“I will return to the High Court and inform them that we have an establishment and that the Eighth Court will leave the High Court by the solstice, as agreed. They will want to see the new court for themselves, no doubt, but that can happen in due course. Before we can accept visitors we need to start acting like a court. We need to take down the National Trust signs, and make it look like someone lives here. We need to secure the bounds of the estate and set wardings in place. For that we need the court to have members.”
“I can bring people in,” said Angela, “provided we can accommodate them.”
“Actually that’s something I meant to speak with you about,” said Lesley to Blackbird. “Niall was suggesting a celebration.”
“I was?” I said.
“It was your idea,” said Lesley, “and once Mullbrook heard about it he was very supportive. With your permission, Lady, we’d like to throw a party.”
“What kind of party?” asked Blackbird, looking between me and Lesley.
“A naming celebration,” said Lesley. “At the same time it will give us an opportunity to bring everyone together for the first time under one roof. We certainly have room — the great hall would be ideal, and I think we could accommodate everyone as long as they’re willing to share.”
Blackbird looked at me, and I shrugged, “I was thinking of a few friends and family. It’s rather gone out of my hands,” I said.
“Very well, she said. “How long will it take to bring everyone together?”
“For a party?” said Angela. “If you’re inviting them, they’ll come.”
“We’re inviting them,” said Blackbird, “by ancient custom, we are summoning the court. Anyone who has pledged allegiance and wishes to take blood oath and become part of the Eighth Court must attend. It’s less of an invitation and more of a summons,” she said. “Do you still think they’ll come?”
“They have nowhere else to go,” said Angela. “They’ll come.”
“Tomorrow is the winter solstice,” said Blackbird. “It’s the shortest day followed by the longest night of the year, the best possible night for a celebration. Lesley, can it be done?”
She nodded. “I think so, provided people are prepared to muck in. Mullbrook will help.”
“That could be problematic,” said Blackbird. “We cannot be seen to use the resources of the High Court for our own purposes. Teoth and Krane will undoubtedly object.”
“Lady, you don’t understand. I don’t think I could stop Mullbrook helping, even if I wanted to,” said Lesley.
Blackbird smiled. “You’re probably right,” she said, “but you might make him aware of the sensitivities and ask him to be discreet.”
“Discretion is his default position, Lady,” said Lesley.
“And if you are going to start calling me Lady,” said Blackbird, “then I am going to start referring to you as my steward.”
At that Lesley smiled, and Dave hugged Lesley.
“Very well,” Blackbird said, “Angela, summon the court.” She turned to me. “Niall, you have until tomorrow to decide what name our son shall have.”
“I was thinking,” I said. “We don’t have a Tarquin in the family.”
“Don’t you dare,” she said.
While Lesley and Dave made their way back from Grey's Court to begin making arrangements for the following evening, I travelled back with Blackbird and Angela.
“You should arrange for people to arrive an hour before dusk,” said Blackbird to Angela. “We will walk the bounds of the Eighth Court together, so you’d better tell them that we’ll be outside — bring boots and outdoor clothes if that’s appropriate. They’ll have opportunity to explore the house a little and find a bed for the night after that. Lesley will be setting up in the great hall, and we’ll begin receiving people at eight.”
“Have you done this before?” I asked her.
“It’s not hard to see that this could turn into chaos if it’s not organised properly. It’s no worse than directing students at college, and frankly easier than organising an academic conference. The trouble with academics,” she said, “is that they can never agree on anything, least of all arrangements. Niall, I will need you in the great hall before eight. Bring your sword.”
“My sword? Are we expecting trouble?”
“We will be swearing blood oaths,” she reminded me. “And that requires blood. Bring your sword and something to wipe the blade that won’t show the stains. You don’t want people fainting when you pick up a blood-soaked rag.”
“We could ask Garvin to do it,” I suggested. “He’s done it before.”
“No, I want you to do it. It’s a symbolic moment and it needs to be done well. I trust you.” She rested her hand on my arm. “You’ll be fine. Just don’t lop anyone’s hand off.”
“No pressure then,” I said.
“We’ll let people meet each other, and then when everyone’s had chance to socialise, I’ll say something to the assembly. I don’t know what, yet, but I’ll think of something.”
“A welcome address, perhaps,” suggested Angela.
“Something of that nature. After that, we’ll name the baby, which means it’s your turn to stand up and say something, Niall. It’ll be the first naming ceremony in a fey court for hundreds of years, so you’d better come up with something good.”
“This gets better and better,” I said.
“Apparently this was all your idea,” said Blackbird, smiling, “so you can’t complain about it now. You keep telling me that’s it’s time our son had a name, and now’s your chance. It’s your choice, so choose well.”
She didn’t say, or else, after that, but I felt that it was implied.
“Speaking of our son, you could relieve Alex from looking after him. Lesley will have her hands full with the arrangements for tomorrow, but you could bring him back here. I need to find him something to wear when he’s presented to the court. What are you going to wear?” She asked me.
“Just Warder grey,” I suggested. “I don’t really have anything else.
“As good as anything, and it emphasises your neutrality. Angela, can you ask Mullbrook if he can have one of the new dresses ready for tomorrow? I’ll need to be presentable, and I’ll need something to wear when we beat the bounds — I can’t do that in a court dress…”
I left them to their discussions and went to find Alex. She was in her room, headphones plugged into her ears while the baby sat in her lap. I had to wave at her to get her attention. She didn’t look very happy at being left with the baby all morning.
“Are you OK?” I asked her.
“Yeah,” she sighed. “I’m fine.” That was clearly not the truth.
“I’ll take him off your hands now,” I said. “Thanks for looking after him. We couldn’t have done what we did this morning and taken him along.”
“That’s OK,” she said. “He’s been no trouble at all.” This time her words rang true.
“Is something the matter?” I asked her.
“No,” she said. She must have heard the lie in her own words, because she added, “Nothing you can do anything about.”
I sat on the bed, gathering up my son, who kicked his legs furiously as soon as he was lifted up.
“You can tell me anything,” I told her. “You know that, don’t you?”
“I guess,” she said. “If there was anything to tell.”
“You should see the new place,” I said, trying to find something that would lift her spirits. “It’s quite something.”
“I s’pose I’ll get to see it eventually,” she said, refusing the bait.
“Sooner than you think. You’re being invited to attend a gathering at the new court, along with all the others. There’s going to be a party. I have to make a speech.” I tried to make it sound impressive.
“You’re not going to be embarrassing are you?” she asked.
“That depends whether you cheer up or not,” I told her, smiling. “I might have to tell everyone how you’re my best girl, my own little angel.”
That was usually enough to get her going, but instead she just shrugged. “If you want,” she said. “Sorry, I’m just a bit down, that’s all.”