Not far away was a table reserved for the Dark Lord’s henchmen. Og-Grim-Dog sat on a bench next to Gurin. Opposite them were Simba and Brother Kane. Underneath the table was an invisible wizard by the name of Sandon Branderson. It had been agreed that Sandon would wear Raya’s amulet and stay with Og-Grim-Dog and Gurin, in case they needed his help. It was only at the last minute that Raya had foreseen a problem with this part of the plan. Sandon was both invisible and silent, and would therefore struggle to communicate with them. To solve this problem, he had a parchment and quill with him, and would pass any messages he had on to Gurin.
The first of these was very unwelcome.
Grim could hear the dwarf whispering to Og. Leaving it a while, to avoid suspicion, Og quietly passed on the message to him.
‘Don’t eat the food.’
Sound advice, Grim supposed. The food was supplied by Sheev’s, which if their suspicions were correct, was controlled by Lilith. They had overheard her assuring Samael that the resistance in Fell Towers today would be ‘limited’. What better way to weaken the Dark Lord’s soldiers than poison them at this breakfast?
Nonetheless, Grim gave a deep sigh. Asking Dog not to partake wasn’t going to be easy.
As for Raya herself, she, Princess Borte, Assata and Hassletoff were long gone. They had left not long after Og-Grim-Dog had stumbled upon their rescue operation. It was agreed that they needed to get as far away from Fell Towers as possible before Borte’s absence was discovered. It wasn’t just the danger of the Dark Lord and his forces tracking them down. The Kuthenian army, with Lilith’s ally Samael in tow, were due to arrive at Fell Towers too—and from everything Og-Grim-Dog had overheard, it was not a rescue force. They had come to take over Fell Towers, and their plans for Princess Borte were unlikely to be benign.
The servers arrived at their table with trays of pancakes, bacon and egg muffins, and bagels, with hot coffee and tea. As the feast was laid out, Grim took the opportunity to pass the warning on to his brother.
To his credit, Dog was able to control himself. He said nothing, instead gripping the edge of the table with his hand, until the fingers began to go white.
‘These pancakes smell delicious,’ said Simba. ‘Here you go, Og-Grim-Dog,’ he added, shoving the platter in their direction.
‘Actually,’ Grim responded through clenched teeth, ‘we ate rather a large supper last night. Silly, really, but none of us has much of an appetite this morning. Please, don’t let us stop you enjoying it, though. Those muffins look very tempting.’
Simba gave the muffins a nervous look. ‘I would,’ he replied, ‘but I’m actually trying to cut wheat out of my diet.’
‘You could always scoff out the bacon and eggs,’ Og suggested. ‘No-one here will mind, I’m sure.’
‘Can I pour the drinks?’ asked Brother Kane, who was due to lead the service later that day. ‘Even if you’re not hungry, I’m sure you can manage a nice cuppa.’
‘What a shame,’ said Gurin, looking suspiciously at the pots, steam visibly rising from the spouts. ‘I’ve recently decided to go caffeine free.’
This awkward charade was interrupted by the arrival of the Dark Lord at the table, accompanied by his mother. She had taken the trouble to put on a nice dress for the wedding and Grim thought she had a kind face. However, he could see her eyes widen in horror at the sight of some of her son’s associates. She seemed to like the look of Brother Kane, however, and after her son introduced everyone, she stood next to him, one hand on his shoulder.
‘It must be a very proud day,’ Gurin offered into the silence.
‘Yes,’ she said, ‘though I do wish with all my heart that Jonty’s brother, Fraser, was here. Such a sweet boy, he was. It’s the not knowing where he is that hurts the most.’
‘Oh, mum,’ said the Dark Lord irritably. ‘Knowing Fraser, he’s probably partying in some dive somewhere, perfectly safe, with not a thought for the rest of us.’
‘Yes,’ Og agreed. ‘He’s probably a lot closer than you think.’
The Dark Lord’s helmeted head turned towards Og, and it was easy to imagine there was a withering look on his face. He soon led his mother away, and the henchmen returned their attention to the trays of food and drink on the table, now going cold.
Dog’s hand, still gripping the edge of the table, now began to shake, as he tried to resist every natural compulsion he had.
Lilith appeared, and now she too glared at the food on the table.
‘No-one’s eating?’ she asked, a dangerous edge to her voice.
‘Apparently,’ Simba said, ‘Og-Grim-Dog are too full.’
Lilith turned her dark-eyed gaze to Og-Grim-Dog. ‘I find that almost impossible to believe,’ she said. Unable to look away, Grim found her gaze holding him, searching his thoughts for evidence of treachery. He tried to keep his mind blank—tried to stop it revealing what he knew. But the more he struggled, the more those memories threatened to enter his consciousness. It was only at this moment that Grim got a true sense of the woman’s power, and it was terrifying.
‘On second thoughts,’ said Dog, his hand coming away from the table’s edge, ‘I am getting a little bit peckish.’
He reached for a muffin. Everybody watched, as slowly, he brought the food to his mouth, and let it drop in. Everybody continued to watch, in absorbed silence, as he chewed and swallowed. ‘Mmm,’ Dog said appreciatively. ‘Very nice.’
Lilith relaxed then, and she allowed a satisfied little smile to appear on her face. ‘Good. I am pleased,’ she said, and returned to her place at the top table.
Dog belched loudly.
‘That doesn’t smell too good,’ said Grim, wishing he had a hand to waft away the smell, or to hold his nose.
‘I’m not sure I feel too good,’ said Dog.
‘No, well, you’ve probably just eaten a poisoned muffin.’
Come to think of it, Grim wasn’t feeling too good, either. He wasn’t sure what happened to the food that he and his brothers ate, but he had a suspicion that it all ended up in the same place.
‘We may have a problem after eating that muffin,’ Grim warned Og.
‘Look around,’ said Og. ‘We won’t be the only ones.’
Many of the menials seated at the tables were clutching their stomachs, or grumbling to one another. Any remaining doubts Grim had about Lilith’s plan disappeared at the sight of the Dark Lord’s forces withering before his eyes. And now was the moment Mistress Lilith chose to begin proceedings.
She rapped on the table for quiet. ‘It is time to fetch the new Lady of Fell Towers,’ she announced in a voice that carried around the room. Her words were met by a mixture of polite applause and wind, the latter of which, Grim feared, was emanating from both orifices. ‘Og-Grim-Dog, you have the honour.’
Grim got to his feet and proceeded to leave the Refectory at what he hoped was a stately pace. He felt his stomach roil in protest as he left the Refectory and headed for the trapdoor to the basement.
‘At least we had just the one muffin,’ he muttered under his breath.
‘We’ll be fine,’ said Og. ‘Though I’m not so sure about those menials in the Refectory, who must have ingested much more poison than Dog.’