“Now, I was informed that you have been studying the period known as the Wars of the Roses. That time in our history is most fascinating, but I think I’d like to jump ahead, if I may, several hundred years to a different battle, one far more relevant to the turbulent times we find ourselves in today. I’d like to discuss the Great War. Who knows to what I am referring?” the schoolmaster asked, looking around the group. Ian knew the answer immediately and shot his hand quickly into the air. “Yes, Master Wigby?”
“The Great War of 1914, sir,” Ian said confidently.
“Very good,” answered Thatcher with a warm smile. “And whom did we fight against in this Great War?”
Again Ian shot his hand up eagerly and Thatcher gave him a nod to answer. “The Germans, sir,” he said. He glanced sideways at Theo and noticed with relief that she seemed to have shaken her worried mood, as she was now writing furiously in the notebook Schoolmaster Goodwyn had given her.
“Very good,” said Thatcher with a smile. “Children, the Great War, as Master Wigby has correctly stated, began in 1914 and continued straight through to 1918. It was a massive conflict, involving all the powers of Europe and the United States, and one that, thankfully, we shall never have to see the likes of again—hence it is also known as the War to End All Wars.”
Just then Theo jumped straight to her feet, her eyes large and round, and Ian noticed with alarm that her small frame was shaking. “That’s not true,” she said to the stunned audience.
“Is there something troubling you, Miss … Miss …?” Thatcher said as he struggled to remember her last name.
“Fields,” said Theo. “And yes, sir, I’m terribly sorry, but you’re … well, you’re just wrong.”
Ian and several of the other children collectively gasped. All around him he could hear the furious whispering following Theo’s rude statement.
Ian tugged gently on her skirt. “Theo,” he whispered, attempting to gain her attention, “sit down and stop being rude.”
But Theo pulled away and glared down hard at him. “You’re wrong, sir,” she repeated, turning back to Schoolmaster Thatcher, her voice wavering with emotion.
“I’m afraid I don’t understand,” said Thatcher, and Ian was relieved to see that he didn’t seem cross, but genuinely curious about what Theo could be referring to.
“You’re a fool to believe that there won’t be another Great War,” she said, and all the children gasped again.
Ian couldn’t fathom what Theo might be thinking, so he stared up at her, and that was when he noticed with shock that her teeth were chattering and her lips looked blue, even though it was a gloriously warm morning. “There’ll be another,” she insisted, nodding vigorously as if to convince them all. “Only, the next one will be far worse than you could ever imagine!”
“I’m glad to see such passion in a student,” said their schoolmaster calmly, although Ian could tell he was a bit rattled by Theo’s sudden change in demeanor. “But as this is a lesson in history, and not a lesson in fortune-telling, I would ask that you please take your seat so that we can return to the lecture, won’t you?”
But Theo refused to sit down. “They’re coming!” she gasped, and to Ian’s shock and embarrassment, she turned to him and shouted, “Ian, they’re coming!” She then pointed down the hill toward the Strait of Dover. “You all think they won’t come after us, but you’re wrong! The man in the chamber, he must be warned!” Theo was shaking violently now as she stared wildly about like she’d gone absolutely mad. All around, the children were whispering to each other and moving away from her. Even Carl had edged back a bit.
Alarmed and frightened by Theo’s outburst, Ian jumped to his feet. He put his arm around her, pulling her close, and whispered, “What’s got into you?”
“Ian!” she gasped, gripping his blazer tightly. “The great wolf will rise up from the east and sweep down upon us, bearing his crooked black cross on a sea of blood! He’ll call himself the Fury and he’ll hang his banner from every hill and building, and where it hangs, all will know that a tyrant of death rules the land!”
Ian’s heart filled with dread. He had no idea what was happening to Theo, but he could feel her terror radiating from her trembling form. He glanced helplessly at his schoolmaster, who looked back now with worried eyes. “Master Wigby, what’s happening?” Thatcher asked him.
“I don’t know,” Ian admitted, hugging Theo protectively. “I think this could be some sort of aftereffect of the attack from the beast.” But the truth was that he feared it was much more. He couldn’t help thinking that Theo’s mind might have snapped, and that she’d suddenly gone insane. “Sir, may I please be excused to take Theo to Madam Dimbleby?”
“Yes, of course,” said Thatcher, his face filled with concern.
“Do you want some help?” asked Carl meekly. Clearly he felt ashamed of how quickly he’d scooted away from poor Theo.
Ian shook his head. Theo had been his responsibility since he was five years old; he’d take care of her. “No thanks, mate,” he said. “I’ve got it.”
“I’ll take notes for you, then,” Carl offered as Ian swiveled around and, still holding tightly to Theo, picked his way through the children. He had to half carry, half drag her along, because her legs were shaking so badly that she was struggling to walk, and all the while she sobbed inconsolably into his chest.
When they got inside, Theo’s carrying-on bordered on hysteria, which sent Ian into a state of panic himself. He’d never seen her behave like this, and he couldn’t imagine why a simple history lesson would have sparked such a reaction from her. He looked desperately about the large sitting room, trying to decide what to do. Finally, he moved Theo to one of the couches and sat her down. Easing a throw over her lap, he gave her arm a squeeze. “I’m going to find Madam Dimbleby You stay here and I’ll be right back.”
Theo didn’t answer him, her hysteria rising. “The Fury is coming, Ian,” she wailed. “He really is, and we’re all doomed!”
Ian blinked hard against the moisture forming in his own eyes. He loved Theo more than anyone in the world, and to see her like this was almost more than he could bear. With one final squeeze of her arm, he bolted from the room and ran down the hallway, looking for anyone who might know where he could find Madam Dimbleby. As he was running toward the kitchen, he slammed headfirst into Binsford.
“Oomph!” said the castle’s head butler.
Ian stepped back quickly. “I’m sorry, sir!”
“What on earth are you doing running through these hallways?” demanded Binsford, gripping his stomach.
“I need to find Madam Dimbleby!” Ian said. “It’s Theo. Something’s terribly wrong with her!”
Binsford straightened up from the slightly bent position he’d been holding. “Is she ill?”
“Yes, sir,” Ian said with a nod. “At least I think so. She’s been crying and saying things and shaking all over!”
“Bring me to her,” directed Binsford.
Ian obediently led the way back to the sitting room, and to his immense relief he saw that Madam Dimbleby was already beside Theo, holding her close and rocking the child back and forth as she tried to calm her. When Madam saw Ian, she said, “I found her like this alone on the couch. Ian, what happened?”
“I don’t know, ma’am,” he answered, his eyes wide with alarm as he sat down on the other side of Theo. “We were having our history lesson and she just stood up and started going on about some furious man with an army and how he was going to bring his cross to hang on the hillside—”
“No!” Theo interrupted, pulling away from Madam Dimbleby’s embrace. “You’ve got it wrong, Ian!” Turning to Madam Dimbleby, she pleaded, “Madam, you have to believe me! The Fury … he’s coming! And no one will be safe! His army is going to bomb the shores and the towns and kill all the people! We’ve got to warn them! We’ve got to warn everyone!” Theo screamed the last part and Ian felt his heart beat with panic. His little Theo had indeed go
ne completely mad.
“Child!” said Madam Dimbleby, shaking her gently by the shoulders. “Listen to me! You’re safe. You’ve been through a terrible fright and you’re having a waking nightmare—”
“I’m not!” she insisted, yanking out of Madam Dimbleby’s grasp. Theo jumped up from the couch, her body trembling in earnest. “It’s true! What I’ve said is true! It will happen!”
Ian got up himself and tried to put a soothing hand on Theo’s shoulder. She brushed it away but grabbed at his shirt desperately. “Ian, you’ve got to help me warn them! They’re all doomed unless we tell them!”
“Who’s doomed, Theo?” he asked her.
“Everyone! Here in Dover, in London, in Bristol, Liver-pool … everyone! It’s the Fury, he’ll strike the lands to the east first and one by one they’ll all crumble underneath him until he reaches our shores!” Theo was hysterical. Her sobs racked her body and made it difficult to understand her. Ian pried her hand from his shirt as he attempted to hold it, and he noticed how cold and clammy it was. He gazed into her panic-stricken eyes, and willed her to stop speaking such utter nonsense.
“Theo, dear,” Madam Dimbleby said urgently, a look of intense worry on her face, “please try to calm yourself!”
But Theo would not be calmed. Instead, she took a ragged breath and shouted, “We’re doomed unless we hurry! We must warn the man in the chamber! The Fury is coming! The Fury is coming!” And with that final desperate wail, she fainted.
Ian lurched forward awkwardly, barely managing to catch her before her head struck the floor. He grimaced when her full weight hit him, as his shoulder was still very sore. Ignoring the pain, he cradled her in his arms while he eased her gently to the floor, but for a long moment he wouldn’t let her go. His mind kept rejecting the reality of her breakdown. How could she dissolve so quickly into madness?
Madam Dimbleby bent down next to him and pulled Ian from his troubled thoughts by gently lifting the girl from his arms. “Let me take over,” she said, and with his help the pair got Theo’s limp form onto the couch.
“Please help her, Madam,” Ian whispered, choking on his own emotions.
The headmistress gave his hand a gentle pat. “Of course, Ian, of course,” she assured him.
Binsford cleared his throat from nearby and said, “Shall I send for the doctor, Madam Dimbleby?”
“Yes, please, Mr. Binsford,” she said, placing a pillow under Theo’s head and brushing the hair away from her face. “And tell him to hurry,” she added.
Ian watched Binsford turn and head quickly to the telephone in the front hallway. He noticed the worried lines on Madam Dimbleby’s face. “She’ll be all right, won’t she, Madam?” he asked, hoping she’d tell him that this was nothing at all to worry about. That the doctor would have Theo back to normal in no time.
But Madam Dimbleby took several moments to answer, and when she did, she avoided his eyes. “I’m sure she will, Ian. Now, go back out to your lessons. There’s nothing more you can do here. I’ll look after her until the doctor arrives.”
Ian hesitated. He didn’t want to leave Theo.
“Go,” said Madam Dimbleby sternly. “Do as I say, Ian, please.”
Grudgingly, he obeyed. “Yes, ma’am,” he replied, getting up and heading gloomily back out to his lessons.
He made his way carefully through the children sitting on the lawn to his place beside Carl, who gave him a look filled with distress. “Is Theo all right?” he whispered when Ian sat down.
“She fainted,” Ian whispered back.
Carl gasped. “What happened?”
Ian shook his head. “I don’t know, Carl. They’ve called for the doctor.”
Carl seemed at a loss for words, and he simply stared straight ahead. Ian too was silent and the two boys sat quietly throughout the rest of the lecture, taking a few notes here and there, but Ian was so filled with fear and worry that he could hardly focus on anything the schoolmaster said.
Finally, the children were allowed to break for lunch and they filed inside. While Ian waited beside Carl to go in, Thatcher stepped up beside them. “How is she?” he asked.
“She fainted, sir,” said Ian.
Thatcher’s mouth pulled down in a frown. “She did? What could have brought that on?”
Ian shrugged. “I don’t know, sir. She kept going on and on about how the fury was coming and he was going to strike to the east before coming here to hang his crooked cross on our hillside. She wouldn’t stop talking about how everyone was in danger. I think she might believe the world is coming to an end or something. …”
The concerned expression on Thatcher’s face deepened. Pulling Ian gently by the collar, he said, “Come with me,” and he led the way down a path to the far end of Castle Dover.
After seeing the look of alarm in Thatcher’s eyes, Ian trailed the schoolmaster nervously. Footsteps behind him caused Ian to look over his shoulder, and he was grateful to discover that Carl had decided to follow as well.
When they reached the west end of the castle, Thatcher paused outside a double set of French doors that Ian was very familiar with. The schoolmaster held one door open for the boys as they trooped inside to the small library that Ian was allowed full access to. The room was filled from floor to ceiling with books alphabetized by author.
Once they’d entered, Thatcher shut the door and motioned the boys over to two nearby chairs. “Tell me exactly what she said, Ian.”
Ian ran a hand through his blond hair and blew out a sigh, trying to recall the exact wording. “She said that someone named the Fury was coming here. He’s bringing an army, and something about having a banner or a flag that’s a crooked cross, floating on a sea of blood. When this bloke, the Fury, arrives, many people will die and a tyrant will rule the land. She said that the army would strike somewhere in the east first, then make its way toward us, and bomb our shores and cities, including Dover, London, and Liverpool. She said we’re all pretty much goners unless we can warn a man in a chamber. She was talking nonsense, sir, then she just fainted.”
Thatcher did not immediately respond and Ian became even more nervous as a serious mood permeated the room. He noticed that Thatcher’s face looked deeply troubled and the schoolmaster stared at Ian with intensity for a few moments before speaking again. “Ian,” he said quietly, almost thoughtfully, “has Theo ever shown any signs of having the gift of sight?”
This question caught Ian completely off guard. “Sir?” he asked after blinking in confusion.
“He means, has she ever been able to predict the future?” said Carl. “When me mum was still alive, we lived next door to this old widow woman named Mrs. Timpleton. Me mum was a bit afraid of her. She said the woman had the gift of sight and knew when things were going to happen. Sure enough, the night Mum lay dying in her bed, the widow came to our door and stayed with us until the end. I never knew how that old woman knew Mum was going to die, but she did. She also knew that I’d be sent to two orphanages, and she told me before I left for the first one in Plymouth that I’d only be at that miserable place for a short while before a man with a red beard brought me to another orphanage, where I’d be well cared for.”
Ian felt a new pang of sadness for Carl. “I’m sorry you went through that,” he said, not knowing what else to say.
“S’all right,” said Carl, blushing and looking away. “Anyway, that’s what you mean, Schoolmaster, you’re talking about someone who can predict the future, right?”
Thatcher nodded. “That’s exactly right, Carl. I’m interested in hearing if Theo has ever had the ability to suggest that things were going to happen before they actually occurred.”
Ian thought back through his many years with Theo as his closest companion and all those times she’d had the uncanny sense of knowing about things before they took place. “Yes, sir, she definitely has,” he said. “It’s been little things, really, like she always knows when the earl is going to show up unexpectedly, or when there’s a stor
m coming. And she knew when Alice had fallen out of that tree last summer and broken her finger. Theo and I were helping to clean up after dinner one night when Theo told Madam Dimbleby that Alice had hurt herself, even though Alice was on the other side of the keep, well out of Theo’s view.”
“I see,” said Thatcher, and his worried look intensified.
“She also knows when someone’s lying,” Ian added. “You can’t get away with anything when she’s around.”
“And how long has she had this gift?” asked Thatcher.
“As long as she’s been able to talk,” Ian said, remembering a time when Theo was three and she’d announced, “Rain!” from her crib when he’d finally gotten her to bed. He remembered laughing at her as he’d turned off the light and headed out of the nursery, only to realize half an hour later that an abrupt storm had rolled in from the sea and had begun pelting the keep with rain.
Thatcher got up from leaning against a table stacked with books and began to pace the room. Ian was now very unsettled about revealing Theo’s secrets. “Sir?” Ian said after a long moment.
Thatcher stopped pacing and looked at Ian. “Tell me what you know about the current political situation in Germany,” he said.
Ian and Carl shared a quick look that said, “Huh?” Then Ian turned back to his schoolmaster and answered, “I’m sorry, sir, I’m afraid I don’t know much about Germany other than they were the enemy the last time England was at war. In lessons, we’ve mostly been studying the Wars of the Roses.”
“Yes,” said Thatcher as he tapped his chin thoughtfully. “Would Theo know anything about what’s going on in modern-day Germany? Would she know what the Germans call their leader?”
“I’m not following you,” said Ian, more confused than ever. “Theo prefers Latin and music lessons to current events.”
“I see,” said Thatcher. “Would she know who our current prime minister is?”