On the top of the tower the Keeper watched the events below with glazed eyes.
He saw the arrows fly, the horsemen hacking at the door, heard the explosion, and saw the shaft of light that poured out of the door. He staggered back as if struck by an arrow, the tiny pieces of light flashing before his eyes like the shards of a broken mirror.
He sat down on the cold stone while the moon slipped away westward, and he knew the hour was approaching when the horsemen would gather their powers and destroy the very tower on which he stood.
The tide had turned, and was safely edging in. He sat like a child on the top of the tower and the fragments of light whirled in his head.
The gloom was upon the world. The horsemen set up an eerie chant, and began to ride around the tower, quite slowly.
The Keeper knelt by the grey embers on the tower-top, which glowed when the breeze passed through them, and saw ash fly up into the sky, but his mind was in shadow.
The chanting was louder now, and the riders were spurring their horses on to a faster pace.
Then, it seemed, a fragment of light in the old Keeper's mind lit a memory. He gazed into the embers, and though the darkness forbade him to do so, he made faces of the embers, faces familiar to his old self.
Darach, he thought, he is a friend.
No, no, the darkness said, you are a shadow, you hate him. Children, there are children, good children.
No, no, the darkness demanded, the children are vile, they will destroy me.
I will help them, thought the Keeper.
No, cease this immediately, the darkness told him, or you will be punished.
The horsemen were now galloping around the tower, and their unearthly chanting filled the night. The hooves of the horses began to smoke, and hiss as they touched the sand.
Round and round they rode, while the Keeper fought with the darkness on the tower-top.
Round and round, until the hooves burned with black heat and turned from hooves to engines of destruction.
Round and round, while the sea whispered closer and there was a smell of burning in the air.
Still they chanted. Still they rode. And the minutes passed. Suddenly they stopped, and the horsemen surrounded the tower.
They screamed one final chant to the sky, the horses reared and the hooves of doom came down upon tower walls. The tower shuddered as if it had been hit by a huge wave. The stone cracked. The beams shook and creaked.
The horses reared again. The hooves connected with the stone and it shattered. The tower lurched.
Then there was a voice in the gloom. "I renounce you, darkness!" the Keeper yelled, and stood upon the tower and hurled stones and branches from the top, in blind and hopeless anger.
"Stand away, Keeper," said one of the horsemen.
The Keeper didn't listen, but continued to throw bits of stone down.
The horses shied away, and the riders all came round to the front of the tower once more
"Very well," said the horseman, and the three riders took out their bows.
On the other side of the tower, now out of sight of the horsemen, the occupants slipped out into the darkness.
As they pushed the Keeper's little rowing boat into the water they heard the sound of arrows flying. The Keeper made no sound, but fell back dead into the cold ashes of the beacon-fire.
Then the hooves rose and fell against the tower once again, and it toppled and fell with a great roar. There was absolute silence for a moment, and then the sun rose from behind the Cloud.
On the island, the horsemen were standing around the smoking ruins of the tower. The men pulled on the oars for their lives.
"They'll see us," said Benedick. "They're bound to."
He was right. One of the riders chanced to look up from the ruins to see the tiny, over-laden boat escaping from the shore. He let out a shriek of fury.
"Hurry up!" said the Queen.
The boat was small and very low in the water. It rocked and lurched dangerously.
The horsemen galloped down the beach, swords raised, but they had lost their advantage. The sun was up and they were weak. As they tried to coax their mounts into the water, the horses reared and kicked the air, mad with magic, their hooves steaming. One of them managed to drive his horse forward and bore down on the boat, but the water swirled around him, and he was pulled from his mount, and sank beneath the icy tide. The remaining two horsemen watched from the beach as their companion was lost, unwilling to share his fate.
"We've escaped," cried Graham. "We've escaped!"
"Yes," said Darach grimly. "With one dead and one wounded. Remember that before you grow too jubilant."
"I'm sorry."
"We had best head towards the coast," said Darach, "and not risk deep water with such a full cargo."
"I resent being referred to as cargo," said the Queen. "And I'm most uncomfortable."
"Well, Ma'am, I shall arrange for you to disembark as soon as is possible."
"Thank you. Benedick, beat a rhythm for the oarsmen. If we have to travel in such an undignified vessel, let it at least be with a little style."
Benedick began to beat a rhythm on his knees. Slowly the boat edged out of the estuary, until the ruins of the Beacon-Tower were lost behind them.