The Court of the Midnight King: A Dream of Richard III by Freda Warrington Page B

senses were alive. The grass was thick with buttercups. A layer of shimmering air peeled from the bank and tumbled into the water, full of rippling laughter. Kate glimpsed naiads, transparent and laced with rainbows, like bubbles. She felt the intense shimmer of the hidden world. The veil between her and the faerie realm became cobweb-thin.
    She could simply stay here, never go home again. And then?
    Kate didn’t want to run away. She wanted life to stay as it always had been. Perhaps if she’d grown up in an ordinary household, taught to bow to the will of men, she would accept her fate. But she had not, and felt utterly betrayed. How has Mama become so worn down by struggle that she’d go against all our principles and barter her only daughter?
    Kate half-thought of killing herself. No – she was too full of life to become a martyr. Too angry. Something wild and desperate boiled inside her, impelling her to take drastic action; but not suicide, and certainly not a nunnery, Auset help her.
    She closed her eyes. Her lips moved in a plea to the great Serpent Mother.
    “Sweet Auset, Mother of All, please aid me. If not an answer, give me a sign, a clue, anything. Whatever path you show me when I open my eyes, I’ll take it.”
    Beyond the redness of her eyelids the world grew loud with the sound of trees, insects and birdsong blending into a single roar.
    Her eyes snapped open. Nothing had changed. The meadow was as before: glorious, serene, revealing nothing.
    Kate sighed. She should know better than to expect easy answers from the goddess. She leaned back against the warm trunk, sunning her face. She would go home eventually, but not yet.
    A noise startled her. Animals running through the trees… then a steadier noise. Hoofbeats on dry earth.
    She sat up, infuriated. Had someone come looking for her?
    Along the narrow path on the far bank of the stream came a man on horseback. His horse was magnificent, a glossy bay with an arched neck and a high-stepping gait. A stranger. If she sat still, he might go straight past and not see her.
    Then Mab raised her head, and whickered.
    The man turned and looked straight at Kate.
    She cursed. No one ever came here! Why today? The last thing she wanted was another encounter with a stranger, gentle or threatening. His intrusion echoed the Stanleys’ visit, a reminder of her powerlessness in the outer world.
    Then something extraordinary happened. A furious growling broke out in a copse that lay behind and to her right. Feline squalls tangled with darker snarls. Kate leapt up and ran to quiet Mab who was dancing from side to side in alarm.
    She saw, striped by tree shadow, two astonishing beasts. Both had stepped out of heraldry: one a small lithe leopard, pure white with blue eyes. Silver dapples ruffled its coat and there was an aura around its head, a mane bristling with aggression like a crown of spiked silver. The leopard growled, swishing its tail.
    Its adversary was a heavy, charcoal beast, all bunched muscles. It had a black mane like a lion’s, and an ugly, furious face, all fangs. The beast wasn’t much bigger than the pard but three times its weight. A graylix.
    Kate had never seen one loose before. She felt sick with terror. They could bite a small child in half, or bring down a fleeing horse. Nothing frightened them, and they attacked anything that moved.
    The two beasts stood face-to-face, roaring threats. She saw the brave leopard crouch, ready to spring. It stood no chance. With a flurry of snarls both creatures leapt and clashed.
    There was a whirr, a dull thud. The graylix twisted in mid-air and fell, squealing like a boar, with an arrow in its ribs. Kate glanced round and saw the man riding towards the fight, jumping the stream as he went. Reaching the trees, he leapt off his horse and continued on foot. He threw aside his bow as he went, and drew a broadsword.
    Kate lifted her heavy skirts and ran after him. Twigs cracked under her embroidered slippers. As she