The Water Gate

With a sound like an express train hitting the buffers a section of the great round table of the Star Chamber slid down the stairs and wedged itself hard against the roof door blocking both it and the stairwell below. 'Good! Now let's throw some more stuff down after it!'

Lyra and the king manhandled a massive oaken chair to the top of the stairs and tipped it over. There was another splintering crash from below as it landed on top of the table. The rest of the table and four more chairs followed it, blocking the stairway completely.

'My great-grandmother Queen Charlotte had those chairs made specially.'

'She must be spinning in her grave!' Lyra grinned.

'So long as she keeps us out of ours! Right, now let's put the rest of this furniture down the back stairs.'

Another door was concealed behind the throne. Lyra passed through it and looked down. 'Are you sure we should block this stair too, Alfred? Could we not escape this way?'

'I'm afraid we can't. The Church will already know about it – it's no secret. It comes out at the end of the King's Corridor. According to the plans it was originally built as a bolt-hole for the monarch in case someone tried to assassinate him in Council. I use it to get to and from the Star Chamber without bumping into the other Councillors.'

'I see. The stair goes up, too.'

'Yes. There's a loft above us, and a window leading to a platform on the roof. It's where they go to raise the royal standard when I'm in residence.'

'Did you play up here when you were a boy? What's in the loft? Is it full of boxes and old books? Did you ever go there?'

'Yes, I did. How did you guess?'

'It's just like the roofs of Jordan College. I used to love it up there, miles away from all the dons and professors. There was always somebody who wanted to teach me something. Or wash me.' Lyra sighed. 'I wish we were there now.'

'You can show it to me when all this is over. Look, this throne is much too ugly to be allowed to stay here any longer, even by moonlight. Down it goes!'

Molly sat in the bows of the rowing boat, Arthur on the thwart behind her, pulling on the oars. 'Left a bit, sir. Now right. Steady!'

The gentle splashing of the oars echoed and re-echoed around the vaulted basement as they threaded their way between the pillars which supported the roof, and the great mass of the Palace of Westminster above them. 'Creepy, isn't it, Nicky?" Molly's fox-daemon snuggled close to her. 'Don't worry. Arthur knows what he's doing. Just keep your eyes open.'

'See anything yet?' Arthur called from the middle of the boat.

'Not yet – wait! Keep going straight on – yes! It's right ahead of us. Only another few yards.'

They passed by ten pillars or so and bumped up against a grating. There were no flaring jets of light on these pillars but that did not matter. Moonlight shone upon them, sliced into vertical strips by the iron bars of the water gate.

'That's it.' Arthur clambered into the bows. 'That's the river Isis out there. All we has to do now is get this grille open. Give us a hand, Moll.'

Oh no! Pantalaimon crouched behind a leather-upholstered bench in the corridor outside Lord Dellar's room. Two men, a scarlet-clad guard and a hooded priest, were standing outside the Chief of Staff's door, weapons held ready. It was obvious that they were not there as a courtesy. The Church had moved swiftly to neutralise any possible opposition to its plans.

They'll get rid of the king first, then they'll purge all his supporters if they refuse to change sides. What can I do now? I can't get in there. Even if I could, I wouldn't be able to get Lord Dellar out and he won't be able to get in touch with the forces which are loyal to the king.

Despite his independence from Lyra, Pantalaimon was still at heart her very own daemon. He could not imagine spending any more time away from her dear side than he had to. He turned tail and set off back the way he had come, back to the top of the north-west tower.

Lyra and the king sat side by side on the floor beneath a window. The moonlight poured through the panes above their heads lighting up the now bare and empty Star Chamber. The room looked enormous now that it was empty, fully fifty feet from side to side with a ceiling that was nearly twenty feet high.

It may never be occupied again. If the Church wins this battle the Star Chamber will be abandoned, together with the monarchy. I will be the last King of Brytain.

Alfred did not share his gloomy thoughts with Lyra. Instead he slipped his arm around her waist and pulled her closer to him. She did not resist. Funny. I feel just like a boy with his first girlfriend. Why should that be? Nobody dares refuse the king!

('She would, if she wanted to. You know that,' said Eleanor.)

From below they could hear the sounds of voices issuing orders, and booted feet running up and down the Palace roof. The bishop was getting ready to force an entry to the Star Chamber. Will he have us killed immediately? Or will I be brought up in front of the Court for a show trial?

'Alfred,' Lyra snuggled a little closer to the king. 'Thank you for… for being so brave. I used to think I was brave too, but it's hard to be brave all by yourself.'

'Pantalaimon will be back soon, with help.'

'It's not just that he's not here with me now. He's been away before and I got by without him then.'

'You must tell me some day how that happened. Your having witch-powers, I mean.'

Lyra laughed. 'I don't! If I did, we'd grab a piece of wood, open the window and fly away! They'd never see us leave!'

'Oh well. It was worth a try.'

'I've been alone all my life,' Lyra mused. 'Except once, and that was only for a month or two. Sometimes when I look back it seems longer than that, and then suddenly it's different, and as if it was all over in the blink of an eye.'

Why do I feel jealous?

'He was just a boy. I was only a girl – it was before Pan settled. I loved Will so much, but he was taken from me.'

'He died?'

'No, we had to separate. For everyone's good, the angel said. He got in touch again later, but only through Elizabeth. Then something else happened and we could talk to each other in our dreams, but he got married and I can't – I mustn't – talk to him any more. It's not fair on Judy and John.'

'Could you talk to… to Will now? Summon help?'

'You don't understand.' A tear ran down Lyra's cheek and the king held her still closer to his side. 'He's too far away. He 's farther away than you can possibly imagine.

'They've all been taken from me – my father and mother, Lee, John, Will. I don't see Iorek any more. I think the bears are dying out. There's nowhere left for them to live, only zoos. If I could call Serafina I would, but I don't know where she is. The angels don't visit us. Alfred, all the magic is leaving our world.'

You'll feel better when Pantalaimon gets back, thought the king, but that sounded patronising so he held his peace. Forty feet below them a hollow boom rang out into the night. The Church was beginning its assault on the tower.

It was a risky thing to do, but in the end Arthur had to slip one of the oars under the bars of the water gate. He could see no other way to force it open. One side of the gate was securely chained and padlocked, but it looked as if it would be possible to lift the other side off its hinges. If the oar breaks we're done for! He and Molly took hold of the bladed end of the oar and leaned back, their feet in the water resting on the slimy stonework beneath.

'Ready? Pull!' They both threw themselves backwards. There was an ominous creaking sound from the shaft and Molly slipped and fell backwards into the water.

'Sorry, sir.'

'You all right?'

'Yes. Let's try again.' Molly stood up, her uniform sodden with river-water. In for a penny, in for a sovereign. Arthur took the second oar from the boat and put it through the bars. 'One each, girl. Pull!'

Together they heaved on the oars. The gate slowly lifted, then fell back again. 'Nearly there. One last try!'

They pushed the oars in further. 'Heave!' The gate rose slowly. Their muscles ached. Then the gate was resting on top of the hinges and with a metallic screech it fell off the far side and clanged as it landed on the stone paving below.

'Just a little more.' They pushed on the gate and it scraped across the ground, bending back the bolt which had secured the other side until they had pushed it far enough to allow the rowing boat to pass through. Arthur and Molly pushed it out into the river-channel and jumped in afterwards.

'Can you row, Molly?'

'A little, sir.'

'Then take this oar and sit next to us. Follow my stroke. We've got three miles to row. It's downstream, but the tide is on the flood. The river isn't going to help us. And Molly…'

'Yes sir?'

'If you calls us sir again, I'll push you over the gunwale and leave you to sink.'

'Yes, Arthur.'

'That's better. Now, let's go. And look out for barges – we're Lyra's and the king's last chance. We won't be able to save them if we goes and gets ourselves drowned!'