Chapter 22

MARCH 26TH IN WHITBY

A s arranged, Annice turned up at Griffin's cottage to find Charlus there, finishing up packing a day bag. He was wearing older clothes - so was Griffin, actually, and sturdy boots. Griffin waved a hand from the sofa. "If you don't mind, Charlus thought he'd at least come down with us. If we don't want him on the beach, he can lurk in the pub and be handy in case we need to find another carter."

"Oh, no worries about the carter," Annice said. "So long as he gets paid. It's a friend of one of my cousins. I know his Mam well enough, and she put the fear of everything into him."

"About leaving a cripple?" Griffin said it almost lightly, but there was a sharpness there.

"No. About giving up the coin for the return trip." Annice knew Mrs Gerold would have none of that, not in her household. "He said he'd meet us at the pub. He's got some other deliveries round those parts for the day." Now she watched Griffin relax a little. That had been the right sort of answer. "And Charlus can come with us if you want."

"It's your call, it's your information, your grandad, and all," Griffin countered, and she saw how he must bargain when he actually did. He hadn't with her, that was one thing that unsettled her. She was used to the customers, the tourists, not bargaining, but people in town did with each other all the time. She wondered what it would take for him to bargain with her, to treat her like an equal in that.

She shrugged, leaving the question for the moment. She could decide when they got through the portal to the pub. "Let me check what you've packed, all right? And how was your day in Trellech?" She asked the second part more out of politeness than anything.

Charlus opened up the bag he'd been packing. He had a wool cloak, two flasks, probably with tea, and a couple of pasties, though not with any shape or baker's mark from around these parts. She nodded. "That'll do. And a healing kit? Scrapes and bumps and whatever." She didn't say - she didn't know how to ask - if Griffin needed anything specific.

It was then he spoke up behind her. "The conversation with Lamont was interesting, but he's given me my head in solving this. And a larger budget to apply to the problem, which is an additional sign of trust."

Charlus snorted. "Not that you spend for work without everything documented in triplicate."

"I beg your pardon, I make five proper copies, like anyone sensible ought." Griffin's sounded mock-insulted. Then he was almost laughing as he added, "Annice, there's one clerk who no one has the heart to fire, but certain receipts and forms end up on her desk, and they don't move until quarter end. The sensible among us send one copy to her, and one copy to the next step, and eventually they get clipped together."

She turned around. "That seems very practical. And she doesn't get in trouble?"

Griffin shrugged, but now she could see him. He seemed in a more relaxed mood in general. "She's very good at other parts of her work. And it's a large system. Sometimes you put up with a snag like that to keep the whole thing going. Do you have everything to be comfortable? If it gets chilly, I'm decent at warming charms."

"We're back to me wondering if there are any magic things you can't do, at least a bit?" Annice asked.

It made him laugh. "I was never much of a duellist, and I'm less of one now. Though I got better at some of the protective and martial magics in the War. Seeing as how they were rather immediately of interest." His voice went a little hollow at the end, before he picked up again. "I am in something of a mood. I apologise in advance. If I tease in ways you don't like, tell me and I'll aim it all at Charlus."

Charlus glanced back, then shrugged. He seemed used to this problem, at least, so it wasn't something new and strange to him. "I'm here to fetch and carry. But we're ready when you are. Tea before you go, or no?"

"No, I'm fine." She considered. She had on her own sturdy boots, a basket for the jet, lined in cloth so no small bits would fall out or get lost, and a warm jacket. "We can go to the portal here whenever you like. Coming back, it's a drink in the pub first, but I suspect you've got the right sort of coin for that."

"We do. Both of us, in case Charlus needs to go do something. And I've got your fee for today, if you want it now, or later." Griffin hesitated, then added, "And I'd like to arrange for when you come to Trellech. Later in the week, if today goes well, perhaps starting going down Thursday?"

Annice was nervous about it - still, again, both words applied - but she had said she would. "If that makes sense. Stay overnight. Come back Friday?"

"Something like that. Or rather, we'll make those arrangements, and if something else suits, there's no difficulty with the inn." Griffin shrugged, and then he pushed up from the sofa. He got his hands into the forearm crutches, considering for a moment, and checking the balance. There was something a little different about the bottom, a bigger base. He caught her looking. "Different tips. Better on rough ground, and also a little easier on my hands, more cushioning. Same on the grips." He opened one hand to show that there was something around the grip now that looked like cloth, but apparently had charms or something of the kind doing the work. "Charlus, the door?"

Charlus obligingly opened the door, letting Annice go out, then Griffin behind her, then locking up. They made an agreeable enough procession down to the back pub that had the portal here, down a little ghault with just a few buildings. They knew this one, of course, but let Annice open it to the other portal. There were three default settings, for Robin Hood's Bay, for Trellech, and for York itself, as the nearest big city. Anything else people had to know how to set themselves, or get Harry, the pub keep, to set for them. He had a little book tucked away for it.

She went first, mostly to make sure the space was clear around the other end. No one was in the back room, thankfully, and she took a step or two back. Griffin came first, then Charlus, looking around. A rather weatherbeaten pub wasn't his usual setting. She was pretty sure of that, even without the posh way he spoke and moved.

Once they were out in the main room, she immediately spotted her target. "Bobs!" She called it out, pitching to carry over the usual Saturday morning chatter. Bobs looked up. He was too young to have been in the War, but he'd picked up as a carter in the last years of it, doing his bit to keep his Mam and brothers fed and a roof over their head. She jerked her chin to show he should come out, and he promptly drained his beer. He'd been quick about it; the pub had only been open a quarter hour. Once they were out in the courtyard - where the donkey and cart were amiably waiting - she nodded. "Mister Pelson, Mister Edwards, this is Bobs Matson, who'll take us the rest of the way down." It was all formality, because that was the right show here.

Charlus helped Griffin up into the cart, and then they bumped along, sitting on benches on either side, with Annice craning her neck as the road turned. They moved from where she could see through to the ocean. Then they wound on a steep descent around through the village, before the sudden turn at the end that brought them right to the beach level. She heard Griffin gasp and then chuckle. Annice glanced at him.

"I said to someone yesterday that Whitby had a number of charms and surprises. And this is one more." He waved a hand. "That's delightful. But I would not want to walk it, no. Bobs, when do we expect you back?"

Annice cut in. "We have two choices there. The pub closes at three, and low tide's at two. So either around two, or we wait until half-five to go through. We want to be heading off the beach by five at the latest."

Griffin went quiet for a couple of breaths. "I ought to say two. But half-five sounds better. Meet us here at, mmm. Half-four? Is that enough time to get back up without straining the donkey?"

"Aye." Bobs was never one for much conversation, though he looked to Annice for confirmation. She supposed they could find a rock to sit on, off the beach, and it didn't look much like a storm was going to change the tides. She nodded, and he confirmed, "Half-four."

"Excellent." Griffin dropped a couple of coins into Charlus's hand. Charlus went around to give them to Bobs. The carter, predictably, tested them in his teeth and looked pleased, then tapped the donkey with the whip softly to get her to walk off.

Charlus asked once he was gone. "Should we be offended? The coin?"

"No." Griffin's voice was firm. "He was testing to make sure it wasn't lead. Or illusion. It's fair. Someone cheated him in the past, Annice?"

"More than one." Annice had heard a few of the stories. "He'll pick up some work along here for the day, and five's giving him more time. Why did you say you should go for two?"

Griffin nodded down at his own feet. "Yesterday had all the travel. I'd be more sensible to stay put today, not go out on the beach, but this is important. And also, I want to. And I am sometimes a small insistent child inside my head, screaming at the top of my lungs that Griffin can do it." He pitched the last very much like some of her younger cousins, and Annice had to laugh at it. She liked that he said that sort of thing, even when it was confusing, because most people wouldn't.

Charlus was considering this, then asked softly. "Another lesson, sir?"

"Oh, that one's at least three." Griffin shrugged. "Anyway, I'm assuming there's somewhere we can sit, or maybe even somewhere we could sit and get food down here, possibly."

"Pub." Annice said. "There's a pub. There's always a pub. Can't get drinks, off-hour, but the one down here will do sandwiches and tea in the snug in the afternoon."

Griffin snorted. "See? There we go. Now, do you want Charlus to stay or go amuse himself elsewhere?"

"You're welcome to come. And we might want someone to go ahead and test the sand some places." She took a breath. "The beach huts, first. I have Grandad's key."