A Difficult Night

Chapter Two: Evan

The end of July, just after midnight, in a remote shepherd's bothy up in the fells.

"Dark enough?" asked Simon Wilkes. Evan Rosier let the curtain fall.

"Should think so. There's some useful cloud. We'd better go and meet the others."

Simon did not stir from his chair by the fire. One booted foot kicked morosely at a glowing log.

"Evan," he said, not looking up. "Do you like what we're doing, tonight?"

Evan's head went up in an instant, his hand on his wand. Only after the appropriate precautions had been taken did he cross the floor to stand beside the other's chair.

"Not liking it isn't an option. You understand that, of course."

"Of course." Simon gave the log another hard jolt, watching the sparks as they flew upwards, burnt out. "But I'm still asking you - or is that no longer possible?"

Evan studied him for a while in silence, then said, conversationally, "Merlin had it done once, you know."

"Merlin? When?"

"In rather similar circumstances. He knew, through the Sight, that the child which Morgause of Orkney was about to bear was destined to kill its father, her brother Arthur. So he had all the children in the kingdom born near enough to that time put into little boats and sent out to sea, to drown."

"The Dark Lord didn't tell us about that. I wonder why."

"Perhaps he didn't like the idea of being compared with a half-blood Squib like Arthur, no matter how powerful a king he might have been. Or perhaps he didn't like the fact that Merlin's plan failed: Mordred survived, somehow, and grew up to kill Arthur. I think it could still be a useful story, employed with care. After tonight, when our success is assured."

Simon let out a dissatisfied huff of breath. "History's all very well. I know what you're capable of doing with it, Evan. Only person in a hundred years ever to pay any attention to Binnsy, weren't you? But us, now?"

Evan leant over him. "Simon. Look at me." Reluctantly, Simon met his gaze. His face was reddened, from the heat of the fire. Evan touched his shoulder for a brief moment. "We haven't got time for this. It's not the same as Merlin, anyway. Not a whole kingdom full. How many names are on the list? About fifteen, that's all. Not one little boat full, even. And most of them are half-bloods." He broke off, straightened up with a restless shrug. "Anyway, how much do you think they can really feel, at that age? They can't talk, they can't think. It'll be more like animals, honestly."

"Would you still say that that if it were Isabel's Theodore, a couple of days old?"

"It isn't. The issue does not arise." His tone betrayed annoyance for the first time. "We have to go - are you coming, or..."

"Or what?" Simon got to his feet. "Chuck me my cloak, will you? It's hanging over that chair. Sorry, Evan. Perhaps not the best preparation for a night's work. I just couldn't do this without talking to you." His voice was very even, as he methodically checked his pockets, fastened his cloak. "You don't have to worry, you know. I'm with you and the Dark Lord till the end. But you must feel free to do as you see fit - not that my permission has anything to do with anything."

Evan went to the door and picked up his broom. "Hurry up, or we'll risk losing this cloud. Mask on?"

"Yes, I'm ready now. Do you want me to go first? So that you can watch me?"

"Side by side, Simon. Just as usual."

Together, they renewed the spells of concealment and protection upon the door, and headed out into the dark.

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