If it were ancient, secret wisdom Prunella sought, she must consult that mistress of secrets, that revealer of mysteries, that unparalleled witch, defier of sorcerers and sultans alike—Mak Genggang herself.
•••
DAWNhad begun to unfold its silver light over the Society gardens when Zacharias passed through the gate. He was not surprised to see the figure waiting for him by the doors, though he had told no one of his intentions.
“I had thought I would see you here,” said Midsomer.
Zacharias bowed, though he was chilled by a premonition of disaster. He did not remark upon the curious circumstance of both his and Midsomer’s being abroad so early. Midsomer knew that Zacharias had travelled under darkness in hope of having the chance of speaking to Mak Genggang undisturbed. Zacharias knew Midsomer had hoped to catch him out. It was so unnatural a situation as not to require comment.
“I hope Mrs. Midsomer is recovered from the shock she received yesterday,” said Zacharias. “I am glad she came to no lasting harm from the altercation.”
“God grant that may be the case. It is too early for anyone who has my wife’s welfare at heart to trust that she has indeed suffered no harm,” said Midsomer coldly. “I am not here to discuss my wife, however. I had hoped to have the opportunity to speak to you in private.”
“I have not much time, I am afraid,” said Zacharias. “But perhaps if you came to my rooms later—”
“There is no need. What I have to say will not take much time,”said Midsomer. “I intend to propose to the Committee today that the Society take steps to subdue the witches of Janda Baik, whence came the hag Mak Genggang. Will you support this motion, or not?”
Zacharias’s sense of foreboding grew stronger. “What steps do you propose?”
“Whatever is necessary to ensure they can no longer pursue their evil magics,” said Midsomer. He smiled without mirth. “I admit I have not yet sketched out a plan of attack, but I am sure your imagination can supply any gaps.”
“You mean military action,” said Zacharias. “Have you forgotten our agreement with the French, sir? Thesorciereswatch our movements too closely ever to miss such a flagrant breach.”
Midsomer looked pleased at this response, though he sought to conceal it, affecting a frown.
“It is as I thought,” he said. “You may be so anxious to treat with our enemies that you will swallow any outrage, but I assure you such meekness is not universal. I believe that English thaumaturgy possesses a bolder temper, that will not brook insults to its women, and I intend to test my hypothesis today.”
“I believe the Society knows its duty,” said Zacharias, though he felt little enough conviction on the point. “It knows, as you should, that we have not the magical resource to contend with France’ssorcieres, were they to engage us upon the battlefield. The addition of magic to his arsenal could well turn the tide in Bonaparte’s favour. Consider, sir, what horrors would await every woman in Britain in consequence. It would be imprudent in the extreme to risk so much for an accident that has given Mrs. Midsomer no more than a passing fright.”
But Midsomer was not listening. He had heard what he desired from Zacharias, and had no interest in continuing the argument, but hurried on to his main point:
“So you mean to oppose my motion, sir?”
Zacharias had never liked Midsomer, but he had not thought him so willing to subordinate everything—the good of his country, every dictate of common sense—to his ambition.
“I would consider it my duty to do so,” he said.
“Then, sir,” said Midsomer in triumph, “I must advise you to resign the office of Sorcerer Royal, and forswear the staff.”
Zacharias stared at him, taken aback. Midsomer continued:
“Consider how much trouble your resignation would save. I would refrain from demanding punishment for your failure to prevent the shameful events of last night, and you could hold aloof from our retaliation against Janda Baik, since you hold the hag in such friendship.”
“I will certainly not resign, and I am surprised you should ask it of me,” said Zacharias, swallowing his fury with difficulty. Would Midsomer have treated with such high-handedness a Sorcerer Royal who was an Englishman? There was no need to ask the question. The answer had been made clear to Zacharias, in a multitude of ways, his entire life.
Midsomer shrugged.
“I had little hope you would agree,” he said, with an air of resignation. “I knew we should be obliged to take the staff from you by force, but I had hoped we might be able to resolve the matter peaceably, for everyone’s sake.”
“And am I to accept that my being replaced by you would be for my own good?” said Zacharias contemptuously.
Midsomer blinked. Zacharias had thought it obvious that his own civility was a polite fiction, disguising very different feelings, but he saw that Midsomer had not recognised this. Midsomer had not thought to receive anything but unwavering courtesy from a Sorcerer Royal he had repeatedly insulted. He had no more expected such plain speech from Zacharias than he would have accepted a pert answer from his black footman.
“Say, rather, for the common good!” said Midsomer, flushing. “What did you do to defend Englishwomen from that hag? As muchas you have done to prevent our public humiliation by the Government, and the removal of our privileges!
“Yes,” he added, at the alteration in Zacharias’s countenance, “you believed you had concealed that! It is fortunate I discovered the Government’s intention before the Spring Ball, and did the little required to appease it. That you could not even do so much speaks volumes of your vaunted ability.”
“I never laid claim to any extraordinary ability,” said Zacharias. He was trembling with anger. “But that I refused to stoop to bribery, or bend to illegitimate pressures, I believe speaks for itself.”
