Chapter Nine: Control

"The task at hand is relatively easy," Master Sorcerer Sean O'Lochlainn explained to His Grace, the Duke of Cambridge. He smiled as he said this. "In fact, it is the Law of Relativity that most applies in this case." He opened his bag and began to pull out the necessary equipment. The first task was to light the brazier which he did by placing several pieces of coal inside and lighting them with a wick.

"That did not look very magical, Master Sean," teased the Marquis of London.

Master Sean smiled and took a small piece of coal that was still in his hand and swiped it against the boy's nose, causing a black mark. "Oh dear me," he said casually, "Someone had best wash his face and cease bothering the Master Sorcerer at work."

Lord London ignored the hint. "But surely you should have uttered an incantation while lighting the fire?"

"The boy has a quick wit, Master Sean," Lord Darcy commented.

The three men and the young boy were gathered in the library. A stone table had been placed in the room for Master Sean to work. The Sorcerer told his audience that the brazier, in this instance, was only there to supply heat. He then took a small bowl, six inches across and placed it above the brazier. Motioning the boy away to a safe distance, Master Sean picked up a pewter pitcher filled with water, and a wand made of iron. With a glance at the young boy that told the lad to be quiet, Master Sean began to slowly pour the water over the iron wand and into the now heated bowl. As he did so, he began reciting an incantation in old Latin. That task completed, he pulled out two vials from his bag. From one of them he pulled out a pinch of sulphur and cast it into the bowl when he had finished the next incantation.

"Is that all?" Lord London complained.

"I told you it was a simple spell," Master Sean admonished. "We are only trying to find something that is hidden."

Seeing the Marquis' disappointment, Lord Darcy stepped forward with an offer. "If your Uncle is willing, we could take you with us tomorrow when we visit Kings College."

The boy looked up hopefully. "The School of Sorcery?"

Lord Darcy smiled for the answer. "For now, I think Master Sean is correct. You need to wash your face."

"But the spell?"

"He merely drops a pin into the water and it points the direction."

"And I have," Master Sean said loudly. "Your Grace, does the pin point toward the secret passage."

"Indeed it does," the Duke agreed. He looked at the seven-year-old, and noticed that the boy had turned to look at the hidden panel. It had only taken him a week to find it, and that was when he was five. "Roger, you do need to prepare for dinner."

As though waiting for the command, a servant walked in and spied the boy, ushering him from the room while asking about the magic spell and how exciting it was. Once the boy had left, Lord Darcy approached the bowl. "Is the needle pointing?"

"It is spinning, as I assured you it would be, Milord. Your Grace, are you familiar with this spell?"

"In my younger days it was used to trace the course of bullets. If you have one bullet and the revolver which fired it, the needles will point to where the other bullets lie."

"Exactly, Your Grace. In the case of the revolver and the bullets, the spell would take longer to cast because limitations must be placed on the spell. If we failed to do that, the spell would command a needle for every bullet ever fired. I did not need to place limitations in this case because we are dealing with a unique object."

Master Sean noted the needle that he had dropped into the bowl. It was floating on the surface of the water, but it was spinning in a circle. "Instead of the bullet we are using the Traveler Stone as our source object. I spent several hours last night aligning this needle to the stone, a difficult task because I could not use the stone directly, but the Law of Contagion can be very useful."

"And now?"

"And now, Your Grace, I will prove My Lord Darcy's theory. If, as he suspects, the Institute has made a duplicate of the Traveler Stone and they have lost it then they will surely attempt to make another. When I drop this needle into the water, and they point in different directions, we will have our proof. If the needles both sink, we know we are wrong."

Having finished describing the probable results, Master Sean dropped the needle into the water, and stared in surprise. Both needles were spinning.

"Master Sean?" the Duke asked.

"Master Sean," Lord Darcy said easily. "I believe you need to drop another needle into the water."

"Quite right, Milord. I forgot about the first stone they made, the one that was lost. We will now know the location of all three stones."

The needle was dropped and began to spin as had the first two. Then the needles began to orient themselves. The needle aligned to the Traveler Stone pointed in its exact direction. The third needle pointed toward the city of Cambridge. Lord Darcy was positive that it pointed directly at the Royal Thaumaturgical Institute. But it was the second needle that attracted their attention. That needle was pointing to the north. If that needle was aligned to the stone that they suspected the late Lord Robert had used, then it too should have pointed toward Cambridge.

"Milord?" Master Sean admitted his confusion at the results.

"What is it, Darcy?" The Duke demanded.

Lord Darcy smiled. "It seems I was right about the Institute. They did reproduce the stone after losing the first one they made. But someone has the first stone, and we know how to find him."

"And Lord Robert?"

"There is always hope, Your Grace. But it is most important that we contact the Crown immediately. Give my apologies to the Marquis but I must hurry with this information. Master Sean, can you give me an idea of how far away the stone might be?"

"As you can see, Milord, how the second needle dips below the water. The stone must be quite some distance away for the needle to reflect the curvature of the earth, but it is still in on this island. The only guess I would make would somewhere between here and Inverness. I strongly doubt that the stone would be close"

Lord Darcy nodded. "Are you able to preserve the needles?"

"Easily, Milord. I will have the needles prepared for travel upon your return. I have planned on the possibility." Master Sean smiled at the look of relief on Lord Darcy's face.

The Duke had already summoned a servant and had ordered his coach made ready. He also gave an order that a luncheon basket be prepared and in the coach as soon as it was ready. He then turned to Lord Darcy. "Good luck to you, My Lord, and let me remind you. You did everything at my behest." The Duke added firmly, "If any error of judgement has occurred it is mine alone."

Lord Darcy smiled in appreciation. As he was not on an official case, his use of Master Sean's skills could be held as a breach of protocol, but not a breach of the King's justice. The Duke of Cambridge, however, had the right to use any means to protect the security of the Traveler Stone. His Grace was not giving him an excuse for his actions. As of this moment, Lord Darcy was acting as the official messenger of the Duke of Cambridge in his capacity of Royal Guardian.

"The coach is waiting as you ordered, Your Grace," a servant said.

Lord Darcy bowed to His Grace, the Duke of Cambridge, and took his leave.

"Your Grace," Master Sean asked, holding a small glass bulb which held a needle. "Do you have an atlas of the British Isles? I thought I would use my time to do some research." He pointed to the needle. "I need to make some measurement and I would try to determine where our quarry might be."

His Grace paused. "Your quarry, Master Sean."

"Forgive me, Your Grace, but as both yourself and Lord Darcy have stated, finding your godson alive was always the slimmest of hopes. If the needle points true, then those who escaped the Armsmen still have the stone in their possession, and they are still close by, in a manner of speaking. I know My Lord Darcy enough to know that we both will be heading north in the near future."

In short order, a map was laid out, and the needle was set on the spot marking the city. The map was rotated to properly face north, and the two men stared in fascination.

"I would say you should start in Edinburgh from the looks of this," the Duke commented. "It is the biggest city along the path."

"The stone does not have to be in a city," Master Sean pointed out. "But I think you have the right of it, Your Grace. That would be a good place to start."

The Duke of Cambridge nodded. "If that is all we can do for the present, I suggest we pause now. It is time to eat, and to explain to an excitable boy that plans have been changed."


Captain Sir Mortimer Sheffield was not amused. As Captain of the Guard for the City of Cambridge it was his duty to investigate every crime that came to his attention, if not directly then through his office. He was now facing the Chief Investigative Officer for the Duke of Normandy who was informing him of events outside his jurisdiction.

"Do you understand now, Sir Mortimer, why I must use your teleson to place a call to London? Or should I climb back into His Grace's carriage and ride directly to London."

"You have revealed top secret information to me, My Lord. Information you clearly do not have cause to have." Sir Mortimer looked with unfriendly eyes at Lord Darcy. "I suspect that I should be the one to make that call." He paused. "Am I correct that you were acting at the behest of the Duke of Cambridge?"

"I am acting in an official capacity."

"All the same, I will have to assume the worst," Captain Sheffield explained. "You will be held until I can verify your statement, but I will also pass on the information you have given me. Hopefully, I can prepare for the best and the worst at the same time."

"Then you do believe me?"

"Your reputation is such that there was never a doubt, but as I have said, My Lord Darcy, you have no reason that I know of to have the information you do, especially if it is true. I must act accordingly."

It was no small irony that Lord Darcy was offered a choice of tea or caffe while in custody, nor was he ever shown to a cell or a locked room. He merely waited patiently. For two hours.

"My Lord Darcy," Captain Sir Mortimer Sheffield said upon his return. "I have relayed the information you gave me to the appropriate authorities. In view of the amount of time that has already passed since the theft of the Royal Thaumaturgical Institute, it has been decided that everyone with knowledge of your experiment should be brought to London forthwith. Do you wish to remain in Cambridge tonight or return to the Duke's estate?"

Lord Darcy smiled. "I assume that Master Sean is to accompany us. Which is why I have my choice of lodgings."

"A Kings Messenger is already on his way to summon the Duke."

Lord Darcy looked surprised. "I appear to have disturbed a beehive. I must also apologize to you, Captain Sir Mortimer. It was not my intention to involve you in this."

"What is done is done," Captain Sheffield told him. "I will look at the bright point. Three of my Armsmen died trying to apprehend those traitors that killed the Marquis' brother. I may have a chance to catch the rest of them. And, I have been assured, His Majesty now knows my name. I will assume that is also a good thing."


The Duke of Cambridge made hasty arrangements for the trip to London. Fresh horses were hooked up to the coach, the pneumatic tires were checked to make sure there was enough air, and a basket lunch was packed. London was close enough that the Duke did not consider taking the train. He could travel faster by taking the King's road directly into the city. Master Sean O'Lochlainn had given his luggage to the coachman and had his personal bag with him, as was usual.

Both men were concerned, but not afraid. It was the seven-year-old boy who was afraid. He was to accompany his great-uncle to London and be returned to his legal Guardian, Lord Bontriomphe. His manner was obvious to everyone.

"You did nothing wrong," Master Sean assured the boy, once the coach was underway. "Something important has occurred and we must return."

"That was a Kings Man," Lord London said clearly. "He ordered you and Uncle to go." His fear was abject. "I do not want to lose anyone else."

The Duke quickly grabbed the boy and pulled him into a hug. "You will not lose anyone, my darling boy. I promise you."

"Then why?" the boy cried. "Why do you have to go?"

"The King commands," the Duke told him in a firm voice, but continued to hold the boy close. "We have discovered something."

The boy's tone changed sharply as he pulled himself from the Duke's hold. "Is it about Robert?" he said hopefully. "You found him?"

The look in his uncle's eyes told Lord London the truth. Then the Duke explained himself. "We have not found your brother, My dear Roger, but we may have found his murderers. We cannot bring him back to you but we can give justice to his death. That is why we are called to London."

"I was hoping," Roger said sullenly.

"As I still hope," the Duke said, forcing the boy to look at him. "It is a small hope but until the complete truth is known it will be there, waiting to bloom or to die. I loved your brother dearly and I will always keep that hope as long as the smallest chance exist."

"Amen," Master Sean said, and was pleased to see a small smile from the boy. Nothing had changed except that Lord London knew that he was not alone in how he felt.


The old year still had several hours left to it when the small group gathered. The Duke of Cambridge led them as a privilege of rank. Not the rank of nobility, but that of the affection of a young boy. They stopped at a door where two of the Kings Men stood at guard. One of the men reached over and opened the door he was guarding to reveal . . . a playroom.

"Off with you," His Grace said to the dour Marquis de London. The boy looked in the room, and his gloomy expression became a smile once again. He bid his uncle goodbye, and almost ran into the room.

"The Duke of Lancaster will appreciate a playmate," the Duke said. "He and the Marquis are close in age."

"It is good to know that one of our group will be happy." Captain Sir Mortimer Sheffield was not convinced that the reason for this meeting was a good one.

"It is curious," Lord Darcy mentioned, "that the younger son of His Majesty should happen to be at Westminster to celebrate the New Year, when the rest of the family is at the Tower."

Sir Mortimer understood the implications. If one of the princes was here, that meant that, seen or unseen, their father was also here. "What have you done, Darcy?"

"Spoken a truth," Lord Darcy answered calmly. "And wrought more than I knew."

The escort led the three gentlemen and the Master Sorcerer into a conference room where three people already sat waiting for them.

"Good Afternoon, Captain Smollett," Lord Darcy said to the Chief of Naval Intelligence. "I thought you would be here."

"Your Grace, My Lords, Master Sean, will you please be seated."

Everyone took a seat around the table but Captain Smollett remained standing. "I must ask that everyone agree that this be an informal discussion, that no one presume upon rank."

The Duke of Cambridge laughed. "If that means I am not obligated to speak, I am for it. It will bring me back to my University days." He looked at the short, thin, middle-aged man in Sorcerer's robes sitting next to Captain Smollett.

Captain Smollett followed the gaze. "This is Professor Gabriel Quirrell of the Royal Thaumaturgical Institute. It seems that there has been a breech of security concerning his work."

"And not the first," Lord Darcy pointed out.

"The person responsible for that," Captain Smollett said firmly, "is now receiving his just reward from his Creator. I have it on good authority that the four of you are aware of information that you should not have. Captain Sheffield, I apologize for the necessity of bringing you here but it could not be helped. My orders were explicit."

"I thank you for that reassurance, Captain Smollett, but I must admit that while I know WHAT, I do not know WHY."

Captain Smollett gave a short glance at a partitioned wall then looked back. "Lord Darcy, I believe you would be the best person to give the explanation. How did you find out about the control stone?"

"I did not," Lord Darcy said with some surprise. "I deduced that the Institute had duplicated the Traveler Stone and had Master Sean perform a test to prove my theory. I contacted you because of the unexpected results."

"Did you use the Goulding Test?" Professor Quirrell asked suddenly of Master Sean.

"I did, and without restraint, which appears to have been the cause of our mixed fortune."

"But you did record three stones?"

"We did," Master Sean said, his excitement matching that of Professor Quirrell. "The first needle pointed to the Traveler Stone. The second needle is pointing somewhere to the north . . ."

"And the third one to the Institute, of course." Professor Quirrell was smiling as Master Sean nodded. His smile became bigger when Master Sean made his next statement.

"I saved the needles in solution and I made an attempt to triangulate."

"Where is the stone?" Quirrell asked anxiously.

"I am not sure how accurate I am but it seems to be in Scotland, somewhere north of Edinburgh. It is hard to be accurate using an Atlas and a compass. The distance between Cambridge and London were not great enough to cause a significant change in the angle of direction."

"We could go to Wales?" Professor Quirrell suggested, forgetting about everyone else as he studied the problem.

"Aberdeen," Captain Sheffield said suddenly. "You'll be closer to your quarry at that point, and if you are traveling as a group of any size you will call less attention to yourselves if you begin your wanderings in Scotland by going to Scotland. You will gain a better angle as well. It will narrow your search more quickly."

"Yes, quite right," Professor Quirrell said, nodding his head.

"Excuse me," Lord Darcy said at this point. "I understand your excitement, Professor, but you called this stone a control stone. Could you clarify this point?"

Professor Quirrell looked to the man seated next to him, a priest in plain robes, who nodded.

"Everyone here knows about the Traveler Stone," Professor Quirrell began as he went into his lecture voice. "The Traveler Stone was made in the distant past by an agent of God, seemingly for the good of all men. To touch the stone places the person in another world where they are expected to come to an understanding of themselves. This would seem an example of the shamanism found in pagan tribes in New England except that, with the Traveler Stone, their counterparts also come here. Experiments with the Traveler Stone proved this point centuries ago.

"What we have done is study the Thaumaturgic nature of the Traveler Stone. We cannot turn its off, so to speak, but scientific evidence shows a means of redirecting the power, of controlling the stone. As we were prepared to make our first tests, the Control Stone was stolen. We assumed it was lost but that, since access to the Traveler Stone was restricted, the loss was not dangerous. It would be nothing more than a pretty jewel to whomever found it."

"Are you sure about that last part?" Lord Darcy asked.

"We have not made tests," Professor Quirrell said. "There is always room for doubt. Why do you ask?"

"If I may, Milords," Master Sean asked, looking both at Lord Darcy and the Duke of Cambridge. When both nodded, he continued. "Gabriel, have you read the report on the late Lord Robert Cahill?"

"Why, no."

"The body was never found."

"But that would mean . . ."

"Is it possible that because the Control Stone is attuned to the Traveler Stone it need not be in contact to work?"

"In theory, yes. But, as I have said, it has never been tested."

"It may be a vain hope," Master Sean said, "but we believe it has."

"That is wonderful if it is true," Professor Quirrell chortled.

"It is not," Captain Smollett said. "If it is true, it means that the Control Stone was tested by agents of His Slavonic Majesty."

"You see the conundrum, Captain," Lord Darcy said with a smile. "If the stone is being used and in foreign hands, then why does the Goulding Test show it to be in Scotland?"

Captain Smollett eyed Lord Darcy carefully. "What do you presume happened?"

"Lord Robert Cahill's body was not found, but some few agents managed to escape at the last minute. I should also note that a Master Sorcerer was found dead on the scene but was not killed by any of the Armsmen. I presume in his case he had outlived his usefulness to the Poles. If Master Sean's suggestion is not correct, then we could speculate that one of those who escaped must have been Lord Robert. It is well known what the uses of sorcery are if one should dare anything."

"You are talking about Black Magic," the priest said, speaking for the first time.

"That is precisely what I am talking about, Reverend Father. I do not know if this Control Stone has been tested or not but, if this theory is correct, I suspect that Lord Robert is still useful to the plot. I am not an expert in the field of intelligence but I am an expert in the criminal mind. I am of the opinion that whomever is in possession of the stone is biding their time."

The Duke of Cambridge cleared his throat. "Is this the reason a Papal Legate is at ths meeting?"

The priest nodded. "As you well know, Your Grace, the control of the uses of sorcery lay in the hands of the Church. Efforts to make the Control Stone only began after denotive approval from Avignon. While there are many secular uses for such a stone, it will be controlled by the will of the Pope and his council."

"My interest, Reverend Father, is not to go against the Church or the State for any reason. I am well past my prime, but I still have needs that guide me. I want only to discover the truth about my late nephew, if he is indeed dead. From what I have learned I understand that I may find him alive and wish that it were not so. But for my own sake, I must know the truth."

"It is God's will that we should learn the truth of all things," the priest said sadly, "even those things we would wish never to know." He turned to Captain Smollett. "As the voice of his Holiness the Pope, I tell you this. His Devout Majesty, John IV Plantagenet, has the blessings of the Church in his pursuit of justice in this cause. Let him know that he proceeds with the aid and help of the ever loving God."

"On behalf of his Majesty we thank His Holiness for the confidence he has that we are pursuing God's work."

"Amen," Lord Darcy said in chorus with the rest of the men in the room.

Captain Smollett smiled at his old friend. "My Lord Darcy, would you fancy a trip to Scotland in wintertime?"

"Under the circumstances, I would find it a wonderful vacation."

Captain Smollett outlined his plan. Lord Darcy and Master Sean O'Lochlainn would travel to Scotland in search for the missing stone. They would remain in contact as much as possible, and call the local Armsmen to their assistance as need be. Professor Quirrell would begin his tests with the Control Stone and keep Naval Intelligence and the Papal Legate informed of all results, good or bad. In the worst case, they would need to know as much as possible as quickly as possible.

The easier tasks fell to The Duke of Cambridge and Captain Sheffield. They had to return to their duties as though nothing had happened, but both men would be on call if the need arose. As the meeting was concluded, Captain Smollett asked Lord Darcy to stay behind. He then surprised Lord Darcy by excusing himself. As the door closed in front of him, another opened behind him.

The Lord Chancellor walked forward without any ceremony. "My Lord Darcy. By order of His August Majesty, John IV Plantagenet, you are hereby ordered to take any action necessary regardless of law in the completion of your duties as explained to you by Captain Smollett."

He handed Lord Darcy a parchment sheet with the heavy wax imprint of the Royal Seal.

"I must ask, Your Grace, is such an order necessary?"

The Lord Chancellor gestured toward Captain Smollett. "The Captain is better able to explain the situation to you, although I think you are already beginning to grasp it." Then he took his leave.

Lord Darcy nodded. He had presented three possibilities concerning the control stone, before he even realized that was what he was talking about. The stone could be missing, simply lost. It could be held as useless by whoever had it. The third was the most terrifying. It could be used and someone was using it.


"Can you imagine, My Lord, being able to go anywhere, instantly?" Captain Smollett was making his point but he did not go far enough.

Lord Darcy smiled without humor. "In the worst case, not only anywhere but any world, including a world that discovered the uses of magic so early that what we practice today makes us appear as barbarians. I could not imagine what discoveries their scientists would have made. If Polish agents can and are already using the Control Stone, we may already be doomed."

"I am very happy," Captain Smollett said, "that His Majesty favored you with this task. It is one I did not want."

"Nor I, now that I understand the gravity of what I am dealing with." Lord Darcy paused. "Captain Smollett, I have had a curious thought. Why is everyone certain that the worst possible scenario is the true one? Had the Control Stone secretly been tested?"

"It had not, but there was an incident, with a journeyman. He was handling the stone when he imagined himself as a Master Sorcerer doing research. He claims that the laboratory seemed to blink and that he saw himself in Masters robes. He rubbed his eyes in disbelief and when he opened them he was back in the laboratory again, as normal."

Darcy nodded. "It could have been a daydream, or not."

"He only revealed what happened after we discovered that cell where Lord Robert Cahill had been held prisoner. He is a good man but, until he heard there was no body to be found nor the stone, he thought nothing of it."

"His confession took place in the Institute's medical ward," Lord Darcy said with authority.

Captain Smollett was amazed. "How could you possibly know that?"

"I visited Father Peter Smalling. He gave me a rock, then corrected me. He gave me a stone. I surmise that our History Professor was awake the entire time of his ordeal, and heard and understood the nature of the confession. Fortunately, it was not made to the priest, and thus not under the seal of the confessional."

Captain Smollett smiled. "It is always the smallest details that slip by us."