Page 32 of Calgacos


  Chapter Twenty Two – Expulsion

  It was an eerie walk back to Calgacos. Sellak disappeared into the night leaving Kellas and Lennox. Yet it did not feel as if they were ever alone. Lennox guessed Sellak stayed close, unseen. Don, Duncan, and their guardians were also out under the brittle moon.

  ‘The danger is past,’ Kellas promised her.

  But she could not relax. The land around them was a veneer of calm. She sensed movement, and heard the occasional rustle, or swish from overhead.

  ‘What’s happened to the other animals?’ she asked Kellas.

  ‘Not animals. Guardians.’

  ‘What’s the difference?’

  ‘I am not supposed to talk about them. In fact you are not supposed to know about Sellak either. It puts me in a difficult position.’

  ‘Does that mean you’re going to tell me about the other guardians anyway?’

  He was close by her side. His manner gentle. Slowing frequently, staring at her, unguardedly, as if seeing more than he had ever seen before.

  ‘They are not wild animals. They are not motivated merely by the need to hunt, and eat, like simple animals. They are not in fact animals at all, for they think, and feel, and analyse, just like a human.’

  ‘Humans that look like animals?’

  Kellas shrugged. ‘No, not humans. Guardians.’

  ‘You make it sounds like they are there to protect something.’

  This time he stopped.

  ‘Yes. They protect their human. Sellak’s instinct drives her to protect me, and I want to… protect you.’

  Her questions dried up. She could ask him about the guardians easily. But not about his feelings for her.

  Calgacos was already in sight, when she spoke again.

  ‘And Don, Duncan and the wolves. Why are they determined to attack me… and Mannik?’

  ‘Because they see you both as the weak link. And they are our enemies. Their true purpose is to attack us, and they do that by focusing on the weak ones.’

  ‘Who is us? Calgacos?’ she asked.

  ‘Of course.’

  They were standing in the shadow of the castle walls, their bodies deliberately hidden from the view of any watchers. They had reached a no man’s land. She was still expelled. She had not status here. No right to be here.

  ‘So that’s why you want me at Pineham. You think you won’t have to protect me anymore if I’m not a part of Calgacos.’

  Her body began to shake.

  ‘But you’re wrong. It’s not because I’m weak, well, only partly. Duncan’s not going to give up. Ever. He has different ideas. He’s told me what he wants.’

  Kellas acted swiftly. He took hold of her, and wrapped his arms around her waist, pulled her close.

  ‘It’s your connection to us that makes you a target. At Pineham, you’ll just be a pretty girl. Nothing else.’

  She didn’t believe him, but that didn’t matter, not while he was holding her. Her body stilled, and her breathing deepened. She was overwhelmed by a gathering thrill, a pleasure, at being so close, and so tenderly held, by Kellas.

  When she pulled back to look at him, she found him waiting, eyes blazing.

  ‘But for me, it’s different,’ he told her. ‘Already, I cannot…forget you.’

  He grimaced.

  ‘I swear to you, on my blood, and on my guardian’s soul, and on the blood and souls of my forefathers, that if you need me, I will be there.’

  She was going to protest. She didn’t want his protection. She wanted him. But the chance fell through her fingers. He sealed his promise with another fierce embrace, and this time his mouth pressed against hers.

  From behind, there was a firm cough. They pulled apart as if burnt. In the gatehouse of Calgacos beyond them stood every master, and Horace too. They had seen the embrace and heard his promise. Kearns was shaking his head in disgust. Bambridge looked mildly sickened, Nighten disdainful. Gnarle’s face was carefully inscrutable. Only Horace was smiling, subtly, but definitely.

  Kearns was beside Torkil. He took one step before Torkil’s hand came to rest on his shoulder. He stopped, his lip curling in disgust. Instead, it was Torkil and Gnarle who came towards them.

  ‘You’ve been through a lot.’ Torkil told her. ‘For now, you need to rest and feel safe. Come. Be our guest.’

  ‘Follow me,’ Gnarle told Lennox, his eyes on the box in her hand, and gladly she did.

  It was strange to be welcomed into Calgacos, when only hours earlier she was being chased from its borders. She looked over her shoulder as she followed Gnarle. Kellas was left facing the Masters alone. Kearns was already by Torkil’s side, his voice spiked, broke the tense silence she had left behind

  Kellas, she guessed, was in trouble.

  She spent the night in her old room. Gnarle ushered her to her door, and took the box from her hands.

  ‘Get comfortable,’ he told her, ‘I need to do something, but I’ll be back soon.’

  He was not gone long. He returned with a small tap on the door, and with empty hands. She was collapsed in a chair by the empty hearth, too tired, abruptly, to do anything else. He took one look and busied himself, starting a fire. He disappeared for a few minutes and then reappeared with hot chocolate and buttered toast. The hot chocolate was simply the best she’d ever had, as thick as melted chocolate, and dark as malt loaf. Gnarle gathered a stool to her side, and settled himself down as she drank.

  The chocolate was too good for her to complain about his proximity. Normally she would have hated the scrutiny. Tonight, she sipped her drink and felt reassuringly, safe for the first time in 2 days, and nights.

  She wallowed in the chair, slipping deeper, her muscles relaxing.

  ‘How do you feel?’ Gnarle asked.

  ‘Fine.’

  But she it was only now she felt fine, and only because she was here, and she knew Kellas was close by.

  ‘Physically?’

  ‘Tired.’

  He stood up, hovered over her, stared at her, picked up her resting, and limp, left hand, ran his fingers over the skin, the nails, then felt her pulse.

  ‘Nothing else?’

  ‘No.’ She sighed. Her eyes were like stones, dragging her down.

  ‘Then sleep.’

  ‘I can’t even move,’ she admitted in a whisper.

  Gnarle snorted officiously, levered her up to her feet, and half shooed her, half pushed her, to bed.

  ‘Come and see me tomorrow,’ he said as he left.

  The day was half gone when she woke. Her room was a cloud of waning daylight. The other rooms on the corridor were quiet. She rose, and looked out. The hills were as bleak as ever. A fitness class, led by Nighten, was winding its way back along the track. The Calgacos routine rolled on.

  On her way back to bed, she noticed someone had left an old set of clothes hanging over the back of the armchair. She stared at them thoughtfully. A pair of jeans, too big everywhere, but at least with a belt attached, a plain black t-shirt, and an old jumper, that looked as if it might have belonged to the old maths teacher. Not one item was part of the uniform. Her heart sank.

  A knock at the door sent her flying across the room and pulling on the clothes in a hurry. They were so ill fitting it was embarrassing, but she had no choice. She had nothing else to wear. The clothes from yesterday were dirty, and her other clothes and possessions were still in her bag left in the corner of the room at Don’s cottage. They were lost to her. She was both penniless, and homeless: adrift, her future in the hands of others.

  Another knock at the door made her panic.

  ‘I’m coming,’ she called, hoping to forestall an entry.

  The next time there was a knock, she was at the door, and ready. She was expecting Gnarle, dreading Kearns, hoping for Kellas. Instead it was the last person she had expected; it was Mannik, his hair a tangle of knots, his pale hands twitching, and clamped on his box, his eyes sliding sideways, then a wisp of a smile.

  ‘Thanks.’
>
  She returned the smile.

  ‘Gnalre brought it to me last night. He said if it wasn’t for you…’

  Which wasn’t true. She couldn’t claim credit. It was Kellas, and his guardian, Sellak.

  She stared at the box, wondering. It was typical of Mannik. Kellas’ guardian was a beautiful, and deadly, leopard, whilst Mannik had a guardian which was green skinned and fitted in a box.

  ‘Why don’t you show me?’

  ‘I’m not supposed to show anyone.’

  She caught herself before she mentioned Kellas’ name. What he’d let her see, what he’d told her, was just between them.

  ‘You can trust me.’

  ‘I know.’

  The fingers writhed, the lid creaked open. Inside crouched a frog, grasshopper green, its skin slick with moisture. The muscles in its legs rippled, and Mannik snapped the box shut.

  ‘I can’t control it,’ he explained. ‘Gnarle says I will, in time. But until I do, I have to stay away from the others.’

  He lowered his voice. ‘I can’t even go home…’

  ‘Then why did you want it back?’

  ‘You don’t understand,’ he shook his head miserably.

  ‘No I don’t.’

  He shrugged.

  ‘Neither do I, I just know, it’s a part of me, and I’m a part of … of… her. She dies, and I die. Gnarle says that’s what they were going to do. Kill her.’

  Lennox felt sick. She hadn’t realised. They’d come so close to failure. She couldn’t bear thinking about it. Neither could Mannik, for he changed the subject quickly.

  ‘Torkil asked me to get you.’

  ‘So soon?’

  The words were out of her mouth before she could stop herself. She didn’t want to see the head, or hear what he had to say. She feared it meant the end. She looked around the room, picked up her old clothes and was done.

  ‘I’m ready.’

  It was good to follow Mannik. They passed a few seniors who gave her a double look, as if to say, you, again. But no one tried to talk to them. If it had been Connel, it would have taken twice as long, for he would talked to everyone they met. She was safe behind Mannik’s customary silence.

  The door at the base of Torkil’s tower was open. Mannik sidled up, glancing furtively as he did, then ducked inside. He leapt up the stairs with a curious, comical step, his knees bending high as he did. Lennox might have laughed, if her situation was not so serious. He knocked on the door,

  ‘She’s here,’ he announced softly, then slid out the way, and back down the steps. As he passed Lennox, he avoided her eyes. She knew what that meant.

  Torkil was wearing gloves as she entered. He nodded gently at her, and waved a hand towards his desk. His fireplace was hollow like a cave, and the tower colder even than the castle.

  Lennox settled on a high backed chair, and shivered. She never had enough clothes. She wondered whether she might get to do one last search through the school’s lost property before she was made to leave, again.

  As she waited for him to sit, she stared at the stained windows. She had really looked at them before. She had assumed they were abstract patterns, but now, examining them closely, she realised the colours were not random at all, but representations.

  Torkil sat, and studied her, as she studied his windows.

  The silence became an invitation.

  ‘Why are they always open?’ she asked.

  He knew at once what she meant.

  ‘There are several reasons. For now, it is enough for you to know that I like the feel of the wind on my face.’

  The window just behind Torkil was a scattering of sand and silver panes on the body, she realised, of a large cat like animal. The window next to it was a mixture of greys, and black, all within, she saw, the large, crouching body of an animal on all fours. Her eyes darted from window to window, picking out tails, and eyes, patterns and paws. How had she not noticed this before? A different animal was represented on each of them. Not animals, she told herself, Guardians.

  ‘You know more about us than we would like.’ Torkil said.

  She had not expected such a blunt beginning.

  ‘But we also know a lot about you. The Ice Queen they called you, in your previous school. And that boy you hurt, he was not the first, was he?’

  This was also unexpected. By this stage most headmasters did not care what she had done at other schools, they just wanted her gone; any excuse would do. And that was what she thought this was about. Torkil was going to tell her she couldn’t stay all over again. Whatever she did, wherever she went, she was always the villain.

  ‘Do you know what Duncan did?’ She demanded. ‘What he tried to do?’

  Duncan was the villain. Not her.

  ‘Yes.’ Torkil was curt. He gave the impression this was a conversation he had endured already, and did not wish to repeat. ‘He played a clever game, and he played it for a long time. He has been here seven years and he fooled everyone.’

  ‘Except you.’

  Torkil didn’t answer. Instead his autumnal eyes narrowed.

  ‘You cannot stay here.’

  His calm words hit her like a wave, ripping her feet from beneath her, pulling her into turbulence.

  ‘Your father wants you at Pineham. So you must go to Pineham.’

  Lennox was crushed. After everything that had happened, they were still determined to send her away.

  ‘You will leave in the morning.’

  That should have been it. He had said everything he needed to say. But neither moved. The change when it happened did not startle her. In a distant way, she was expecting it. The lines of his aged face cracked open, his eyes changed colour, their sandy, washed out hue was eclipsed by a thick, orange yellow. The whites dissolved leaving only a dark centre, as black as coal.

  ‘I wish it were otherwise,’ he said, but it was not Torkil, the headmaster talking. It was another Torkil. A deeper one.

  Abruptly, the inhuman eyes were gone, and the familiar Torkil was back, his weary, sandy eyes looking at her, and wishing her gone.

  ‘Enough,’ he declared sharply.

  Lennox was not sure who he was talking to, but it did not matter. She got up. Her time here was over.

  Torkil rose as well. When she was at his door, he spoke again,

  ‘Lennox,’ he warned, ‘When you say goodbye to Kellas, say it and mean it. One day he will be one of us. And we Masters do not take women.’

  These were the words that played like a melody in her head as she descended the tower. ‘We do not take women.’ These words, more than anything else he had said. Now she knew the true reason she was leaving. It was nothing to do with who she had hurt or what she had done. It was because of Kellas. They did not want her anywhere near him.

  Mannik was waiting at the base of the tower.

  ‘So…?’

  ‘They’re sending me away, all over again. Apparently my father wants me at Pineham.’

  ‘It’s not so far.’

  ‘Does that mean you’ll come and see me?’

  ‘I’m not supposed to leave the Old Castle. I can’t see them letting me go to Pineham, Besides, there’s a big wall, remember? Pineham don’t seem to encourage visitors.’

  She thought about this as they crossed the courtyard. A group of Perissodactyla were warming up, reading for a late night run. There were no Masters in sight, but Lennox felt watched.

  ‘They all have guardians, all the Masters, don’t they?’

  Mannik threw her a worried look. This was not something he wanted to discuss.

  ‘But they go out. Their guardians are hidden. Somewhere. Why can’t you do the same?’

  Mannik shook his head, looked back up at the tower they’d just left.

  ‘Never mind,’ she shrugged. ‘If I want to see you, I’ll just have to come back.’

  Mannik widened his eyes in alarm.

  ‘They’ll catch you.’

  ‘We’ll see.’

  Man
nik led her back to her room, avoiding the dining hall where most of the rest of the school were eating.

  ‘I’ll bring you something,’ he promised her. ‘Kearns told me he wanted you back in your room. Not on display.’

  Kearns couldn’t get rid of her quick enough.

  ‘You make me sound like I’m for sale.’

  ‘His words, not mine,’ Mannik hastily clarified.

  There was subdued chatter coming from the Feliformia common room, but the stairs were empty, and Mannik was able to escort Lennox, unseen, to her room. Without the students, it was easy to forget Calgacos was a school. It felt more like a deserted home. There were no notice boards, school photos, or fire doors; none of the paraphernalia that marked the corners and walls of institutions. It was as bare as a cave, and cold as ruin.

  She approached her room hesitantly. It had been her home. Her space. Now, she felt as if she were being shunted into it. Not a prison, but a hole, somewhere to hide the unwanted.

  Mannik was gone while her hand was still on the handle.

  ‘You’ll have food, he promised, as he hurried away.

  Inside, it was not what she had expected. The grey walls were embraced by an orange glow. A fire had been re-lit. A tray with food was beside her chair. She paused in the door way, unsure. With those few changes, her room had been transformed. It was welcoming. Kearns, she guessed, was not responsible.

  A touch, soft as snowfall, was on her shoulder. Kellas was standing just behind the door, waiting. For once, his haughty look was gone. Instead, he looked unsure.

  ‘What are you doing here?’ she asked.

  ‘You needed food. I told Mannik I would bring it.’

  She looked again at the tray. A box of fine crackers, small rounds of delicate cheese; not the sort of food which came from the school kitchens.

  ‘Eat,’ he told her, and gestured towards the chair.

  She was overwhelmingly hungry. It had been more than 24 hours since she had last eaten.

  ‘Only if you do.’

  She hated being watched, by anyone.

  He took the chair opposite, Mannik’s chair, but whereas Mannik had curled up into a shell, Kellas occupied all the chair. He sat back deep, relaxed. The last time they had been together, and truly alone, the sky had been the ceiling. He had pulled her close and promised to look after. Now, it was hard to believe that had happened. He was untouchable, sat across from her, and still godlike in his good looks.

  ‘What did Torkil say? Exactly.’ He asked.

  ‘That I was leaving. Again. I’m going to Pineham.’

  He nodded. He knew this already.

  ‘And…’

  She knew what he was after.

  ‘He told me when you say goodbye to Kellas, say it and mean it. One day he will be one of us. And we Masters do not take women.’

  Kellas’ hands gripped the edge of the hand-rests. His relaxed air dissipated.

  ‘That’s the real reason I’m leaving isn’t it? It’s nothing to do with my father wanting me to go Pineham. I bet he’s never heard of the place. They just don’t want me here, anywhere near you.’

  She had reason to say this. He had promised himself to her though now he sat across from her as if a chasm were between them.

  ‘I’ve wanted to explain that to you for a very long time,’ he said.

  His hands uncurled, his fingers flexed. And a smile surfaced on his lips, brief and weak.

  ‘When you first came here, I thought you would run away that very first week,’ he told her. ‘I remember clearly when I first saw you. No-one had warned me. I was out doing fitness. We all were. It was a clear day. I wanted to run fast, on a day like that. But I’ve been warned, from the very beginning, not to show what I can do, not to let others know. So I was forcing myself to run, like others swim, as if through water, when I saw you.’

  The smile reappeared, spreading like dawn across his features, and he lowered his head in shame.

  ‘I nearly stopped dead. I couldn’t believe you were standing there. It was unreal. Preposterous. I even wondered, briefly, if you were a ghost, because I just could not accept a girl, any girl, but especially a girl like you, could be here at Calgacos.’

  ‘You didn’t even look at me.’

  She remembered it well. He had run smoothly past, and she had watched in awe.

  ‘You didn’t see me look. There’s a difference. I was careful.’ His head was back up, he was looking at her now, intensely, studying her reactions. His own emotions, his smile, were hidden again.

  ‘But Horace had overheard some Aves seniors talking. He told me there had been a mix up, and you weren’t staying. My run that morning was ruined. All I could think of was you. I arrived back determined to try and stay as far away as possible from you. I thought if you were only staying a few days, I could manage it. ’

  Neither had moved, but the chasm between them was narrowing.

  ‘But I couldn’t even manage a few days. Gnarle asked me to take you to his surgery for your test, and I didn’t even try to refuse him. I wanted to have the chance to be near you. Afterwards, when I heard you were staying, that Torkil wanted to keep you, I was glad.’

  She was reminded suddenly of Torkil’s unnerving gaze, like a midday tropical sun. Kellas was not just looking at her. He was looking for something.

  ‘Do you know why Torkil wanted you to stay? He asked.’

  She nodded. No one at Calgacos had ever spelt it out to her, but Don had made it plain. It was the only good thing to come from her capture.

  ‘Because of my mark. It means I might be one of you. But Don said it was not a mark, just a…’ She baulked at repeating his words.

  ‘It’s not a mark yet!’ Kellas clarified. ‘But Torkil wanted you here because we think it will become a mark. One day, you could be another master. That’s why Calgacos exists. It is the Masters’ home, where they train future masters. All the other students here are just cover.’

  ‘But not everyone wanted me here.’

  ‘No. Not everyone. But they were overruled. Torkil is the leader. He made the decision to keep you.’

  ‘Kearns didn’t want…’ She began

  ‘No,’ he interrupted. ‘No he didn’t. From the very beginning, he said you would cause trouble. And he was right. I couldn’t stay away from you. Neither could Duncan! And, worse, every time they saw me with you, they knew what was happening! They knew I couldn’t resist you. So every time I got close, I brought you closer to leaving.’ He shook his head, miserably, ‘It was an impossible situation.’

  ‘I thought you saw me as a mistake… unworthy of Calgacsos.’

  ‘No,’ Kellas stood up abruptly. ‘Never.’ He pulled her to her feet and held her close, fitting her body to his like a robe, and brought his face to hers, and his lips to hers, and kissed her so gently, and so long, that there was nothing left in the world, but where they met, and touched.

  Eventually he pulled away, firmly, from her lips, and from her body.

  ‘Torkil wanted you as a master, but not as a woman. It is my fault, my touch, my feelings, my desire for you, which has condemned you. You have done nothing wrong. I’m sorry.’

  ‘Don’t be. I want you more than I want Calgacos.’

  He sighed, ‘I feel the same. That is why this is not permitted. One day I will be a master, and as a master, my loyalty has to be to Calgacos, not to you, or any other Master. You make me at war with myself.’

  He looked at the door, uneasily.

  ‘I shouldn’t have come. They know I’m here. Torkil expects me to say goodbye. And if I stay too long…’

  Lennox reached for him, grabbed hold of his clothes, tried to pull him back towards her.

  ‘No,’ he told her. There was iron in his voice. Unbending. He had made up his mind.

  ‘But when will I see you again! Tomorrow I will be sent to Pineham.’

  ‘I will visit…’

  ‘…but the walls are high, and the security tight…’

 
Kellas laughed once without mirth.

  ‘That is the least of my concerns.’

  ‘What then is your concern?’

  And Kellas stilled, and eyed her cautiously.

  ‘Don,’ he said. ‘…and Duncan.’

  Lennox shivered. She saw again the house, the room where she had been put, the open door, and across the hall, Don’s open doorway.

  ‘At Pineham you will be safe.’ Kellas promised. ‘But don’t ever leave the site, not without me.’

  There was a lot she wanted to say but suddenly her mouth had become dry, words caught, like wool, on barbs, in her throat.

  ‘If I stayed here…’she began.

  ‘They won’t have it.’ He was brusque, and icy calm. ‘You have to go to Pineham and when you’re there I want you to find someone you can trust, someone who can help us, someone who will pass a message on, if you can’t find me, or I can’t find you. Someone a bit like Mannik, except…’

  He stilled. His mouth was parted, slightly. He was a statue but bright with life and perfection.

  ‘I have to go…’ he stood up just as there was a discreet knock on her door; gentle, three raps, and then a gentlemanly pause.

  Kellas was already moving, not towards the door, but to the window.

  Another knock. And this time a polite inquiry.

  ‘Lennox. It’s Master Torkil. May I come in?’

  ‘…well…’

  Kellas had the window open. He did not look back at her. In one motion, he climbed out, onto the ancient stone sill, and was gone from sight.

  ‘…I guess so. Yes.’

  The door opened.

  ‘Lennox,’ Master Torkil said, staying resolutely at the doorway.

  ‘Yes?’

  Before she walked over to him, she turned and shut the window.

  It was as good as a confession, and they both knew it.

  ‘Tomorrow when you go to Pineham in the taxi, I will take you. This time, there will be no mistakes. You will be safe. I have just been on the phone. All is arranged.’

  Stood in the doorway, he appeared normal, diminished, simply a plain, washed out old man. Smaller than Lennox, and weaker, his clothes long faded, only his eyes burnt. It was strange to believe he was the leader of the indomitable masters.

  ‘Thank you.’ She said.

  With that, Torkil was done. He gave her a creased smile, and left her in peace. No mention had been made of Kellas, or the open window. But the message was clear. Kellas was out of bounds.

 
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