‘Lou,’ he said, rising to his feet. ‘Riley.’ He nodded at me. The other men also began to stand, their hands automatically travelling to their weapons once they caught sight of Luc. But Reece made a calming motion with his hands and they stayed seated.
‘This is Riley’s friend, Luc,’ Lou said.
‘Come and sit,’ Reece said. Some of the men shifted around to make space for us and Luc and I stepped in to join their loose circle. We sat next to each other, sharing a damp floor cushion.
‘I’ll get you some tea,’ Lou said. I watched her disappear into the crowded space and felt more ill at ease without her.
Reece introduced the five men who sat with him, but their names trickled over me and away like running water.
‘We can’t stay long,’ Luc said.
‘Sorry to be blunt, but why are you here?’ Reece asked, turning to me. ‘Was there a problem with our deal?’
‘Not at all,’ I replied. ‘We came to warn the compound that Grey’s army is on the march again. They’ll be passing this way any day. Just thought you’d like to know too.’
Reece swore under his breath and the other men began talking amongst themselves.
‘How come they’re marching?’ Reece said. ‘I thought you were holding Grey prisoner at the perimeter?’
‘We are,’ Luc replied quickly, not revealing that Grey was in fact dead. ‘But his army has a second in command. A boy named FJ. They call him The Voice of The Father. He’s calling the shots now.’
‘Thanks for the heads up,’ Reece said. ‘Appreciate it.’
‘They might not stop here,’ Luc said. ‘They’re coming for us at the perimeter.’
‘All the same,’ Reece replied. ‘It’s good to be forewarned.’ He held out his hand to Luc and they shook.
‘Here you go,’ Lou said, arriving with a tray of tin cups. ‘Nettle tea.’ She set the tray on the rug and plonked herself down next to me. Everyone reached forward and took a cup of the steaming liquid. ‘What did I miss?’ she asked.
Chapter Twenty One
Jamie
The walls were high and their metallic glint made Jamie’s head swim. He needed a drink of water or he would surely pass out. There were no other guards or people in sight. As Jamie and his two robed escorts drew closer to the wall, a door swung inwards and they walked through. No matter what lay on the other side, Jamie didn’t hesitate to enter; he desperately needed to escape the sun’s glare.
Thankfully, they had reached a covered corridor. It was dark and cool and when one of the men offered Jamie a canteen of water, Jamie almost snatched it out of his hand. Why couldn’t he have offered me some of that an hour ago? Jamie thought, gulping down the warm liquid. He could easily have polished off the lot, but thought he’d better not. Dribbles ran down the side of his mouth and he wiped them away with the back of his hand, then handed back the half-full canteen.
As his eyes grew accustomed to the low light, he noticed four more robed men. Three stood to attention, their hoods covering their faces, while a fourth talked in a whisper to his companions, or guards, or whoever the hell they were. They were now leaning over a small wooden table filling in a form. The corridor seemed to curve outwards, following the line of the brick walls – perhaps wrapping itself around the whole compound. Jamie wondered just how big this place actually was.
An inner door opened, letting in a faint glimmer of sunlight. Jamie silently groaned. He really didn’t want to face that heat again, but he had no choice as the two men bade him follow. They walked along another corridor with doors off it and soon the corridor began to open out and the ceiling ended. Jamie noticed that either side of him, and indeed all around him, was some kind of seating arrangement made from stone slabs, topped with grass, which stretched up and around the whole place like an amphitheatre. Maybe it used to be an old sports stadium or something. Finally, he could see where they were and what this place truly was. It seemed the rumours about James Grey were right. Salisbury was not the Godly place of quiet reflection and service it first appeared. For this place was in fact a massive army training camp.
In his head, Jamie swore several times, his jaw slack with amazement. For spread out before him lay a gigantic arena filled with thousands of dark-robed men. At least Jamie assumed they were men; they might well have been women too, for all he knew, as their faces were concealed by the low hoods they wore. The sight was surreal, for they were performing some kind of complex fighting manoeuvres in perfect synchronization, the movements both beautiful and terrifying. All the while, they chanted in a low whisper, weird foreign-sounding words. It gave Jamie chills, and he began to wonder: was he being brought here to be punished by this army? Or to join them?
Amid this tumultuous swirl of emotions, he realised that the day’s heat had finally dissipated and, as he looked up, he saw why – an arrangement of cloth sails had been drawn across part of the open roof, presumably to shelter the soldiers from the sun. Casting his eyes back down, he saw swirls of red dust spiralling up from the ground as the men moved upon the dirt floor. The whole area must once have been grassed over, but now most of it had been burnt away by the sun to nothing but patches of earth and straw. Surely it would become a mud bath in here when it rained.
As he and his companions skirted the arena, Jamie’s eyes were drawn to a high wooden platform, like a diving board, on which stood a figure who moved with such grace and force that Jamie’s jaw dropped still further. Barefoot and with a shaved head, the man wore loose trousers and a vest. He was too far away for Jamie to make out his features, but his graceful movements were being imitated by the soldiers on the ground.
It gave Jamie vertigo to watch the man. The platform was narrow – about six feet by six – and it must have stood at least twenty five feet off the ground. There was no safety fence around him and no soft landing if the man should fall. Jamie couldn’t even work out how the man would have got up on the platform, as there were no steps or ladder to be seen.
The two men continued to lead Jamie around the arena in their regular unhurried manner, before turning off down another corridor, under the stands, away from the rows of chanting soldiers. Jamie reluctantly turned away from the sight of the man on the platform and followed his companions through an innocuous wooden door set beneath the raised seating.
He found himself in a room, and it took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the dim light which filtered in through a number of open metal grilles in the wall. A large group of men sat cross-legged on the wooden floor, while a robed soldier spoke to them in a quiet voice. The soldier glanced across at their approach, caught Jamie’s eye and pointed to a place on the ground. Jamie’s companions nodded and pointed at the same spot on the ground. Self-consciously, Jamie walked across the room and sat, crossing his legs like the others. They were dressed the same as him, in loose-fitting, brown, homespun trousers and shirt. They were all clean-shaven with closely cropped hair. None of them acknowledged his arrival, but instead kept their eyes focused on their teacher.
Jamie realised his two companions had disappeared. His stomach gave a lurch of aloneness. So was this place to be his new home? Was he to train as a soldier? To become one of the robed warriors like those in the arena practicing complicated fighting manoeuvres? The thought thrilled and terrified him. Part of him would love to be able to move like that and maintain such a level of dedication and control, but the more realistic part of him knew that he was no soldier. That they would soon realise he was a coward and a weakling.
‘I know some of you are wondering why you are here,’ the robed teacher said, mirroring Jamie’s thoughts. ‘But you do not need to wonder. You are here because Our Father has willed it and He believes you are strong enough to endure it. Because ‘right’ is on our side, you will gather your courage and draw up your strength and you will become the strongest army this land has ever seen.’ He spoke in a calm, measured tone without the clichéd yelling or fist-pumping that Jamie might’ve expected from a soldier.
Jamie tre
mbled inside at the man’s words. So he really was to become a soldier. It was all very well this hardened warrior giving a pep talk and trying to inspire them, but there was no way on earth he was cut out for this. He just wasn’t. Glancing left and right, he was disappointed to see every other pair of eyes locked onto the teacher; lapping up his words. Was he the only one with doubts and fears? The man continued speaking:
‘Repeat after me,’ he said. ‘We are of God, and the whole world lies in wickedness.’
‘We are of God, and the whole world lies in wickedness,’ they chanted, copying his low whispered tone. Jamie joined in hesitantly.
‘The wicked shall be overthrown and the house of the righteous shall stand,’ the man said.
‘The wicked shall be overthrown and the house of the righteous shall stand,’ they repeated.
‘God is my Light.’
‘God is my light.’
‘While we live, we serve.’
‘While we live, we serve.’
‘Good,’ the soldier said. ‘These words will sustain you in battle. You will think of them as you fight. You will think of them as you sleep and as you eat. These are the words spoken by Our Father and which will carry you through this world and into the next. We will say these words in our own language and then we will say them in the ancient tongue. You will learn them as they were meant to be spoken. Repeat after me:
‘We are of God, and the whole world lies in wickedness – Scimus quoniam ex Deo sumus et mundus totus in maligno positus es.’
‘The wicked shall be overthrown and the house of the righteous shall stand – Verte impios et non erunt domus autem iustorum permanebi.’
‘God is my Light – Deus lux mea est.’
‘While we live, we serve – Dum vivimus servimus.’
‘Scimus quoniam ex Deo sumus et mundus totus in maligno positus es. Verte impios et non erunt domus autem iustorum permanebi. Deus lux mea est. Dum vivimus servimus.’
Jamie’s voice joined the others as they sat and chanted, their voices merging and whirling, like the whispering of trees or the sighing of the wind. At first the words felt odd on his tongue, like an unknown food or a first kiss. He stumbled over their strangeness. But after a while, he grew used to the sound of them and it seemed as though he might never stop. At moments, the chanting sounded so quiet he could barely make out the words, and other times it would fill his head so it was all he could do not to clap his hands over his ears. But soon, he relaxed into the chanting; his worries dissipated and he lost himself in the sounds, his mind floating upwards and away from himself.
‘Scimus quoniam ex Deo sumus et mundus totus in maligno positus es. Verte impios et non erunt domus autem iustorum permanebi. Deus lux mea est. Dum vivimus servimus.’
Push-ups, sit-ups, squats, leg thrusts, weights. Gone were the lazy contemplative days of life as a crippled kitchen hand. No more weeding and peeling vegetables, or losing himself in idle thoughts. For now, Jamie spent all his days training. He was to become one of James Grey’s warriors.
His head had been shaved to a peachy fuzz and every millimetre of his body ached from the punishing exercises he undertook each day. Those beautiful synchronized fighting moves that Jamie had witnessed on his first day at the camp were not for the likes of him and the other new recruits. Perhaps they would eventually progress to that. But for now, he and the others rose at dawn, prayed, ate and then followed their trainers as they ran, sprinted, stretched, lifted weights, walked with heavy packs and swam back and forth across the river until they were fit to drown.
Occasionally they might have a rest day where they prayed and chanted, but these were few and far between. There was no quarter given, no slacking off, no sick days. You woke, you trained. In the beginning, some of them would throw up or pass out from the sheer physical effort – Jamie included. But there was no sympathy or relief. You pushed on through without complaint.
After several weeks of intense physical discomfort and sheer panic that he wasn’t cut out for this life, Jamie eventually adjusted to the new routine. His leg was now as good as new and his whole body had grown sleek. His previous life on the outside had kept him pretty tough, but now he’d acquired a seemingly unlimited energy that he’d never before possessed. Muscles defined his body and gave strength and grace to his movements. But there was no time to contemplate any of this. No time to worry or analyse what he was doing, or what he was becoming. His thoughts were all about keeping up with the others and making it through each new set of pain barriers. At night, he fell into a deep slumber the moment his head hit the pillow and in the morning he was up and dressed within minutes of his eyes snapping open.
He and his brothers, as he now thought of his fellow trainees, ate and slept on the floor inside the walls of the training camp and they trained outside in the water meadows, whatever the weather. Aside from their trainers, no one else spoke. No conversation lit up the hallways by day, no whispered discussion echoed around their chamber at night. The only words Jamie uttered were prayers or the warriors’ chant, which looped around his brain like a mantra. Jamie couldn’t imagine life without it. The words grounded him and focused his energy:
Scimus quoniam ex Deo sumus et mundus totus in maligno positus es. Verte impios et non erunt domus autem iustorum permanebi. Deus lux mea est. Dum vivimus servimus.
He fell asleep with the words swirling about his brain and he awoke the following morning with the chant fully-formed on his lips. He could not remember their meaning word-for-word, but he knew that there was something in there about ‘the light of God’, and he liked to imagine this holy light was fuelling him on. Infusing his body with purpose and energy.
One warm September morning, Jamie awoke as usual and dressed in his loose trousers and tunic. He and the others knelt on the dusty wooden floor to pray, but instead of their trainer leading them in prayer, he issued a curt command:
‘All stand and follow me. Stay in line.’
Jamie and the others did as they were bid and filed out of their quarters. As they exited the room, others joined them in the corridors, everyone moving slowly and surely toward the outdoor central arena.
Once Jamie and his brothers reached the arena, it quickly began to fill up. More trainees joined them, along with the robed warriors and their trainers. Row-upon-row of them. Hundreds became thousands. Only inches separated each person and it soon became warm. Uncomfortably so. The smell of earth and sweat hung thick in the air, and dust fogged Jamie’s vision where so many feet had disturbed the dry earth. A relay of barking coughs started up and then gradually grew silent. There was no murmuring or whispering speculation as you might expect. The soldiers remained still, eyes facing forward. Then, through the heavy silence, the loudspeaker squealed to life.
Chapter Twenty Two
Riley
Despite the apparent civility between us and the gypsies, Luc’s left heel jigged up and down – a sure sign that he wasn’t relaxed. This small show of insecurity endeared him toward me again and I remembered the Luc who was my friend, the Luc I trusted, before all the weirdness had started up between us. And now I’d brought him into this place. A place he didn’t want to be. But he’d come anyway. Because of me.
I tried to catch his eye, but he was on alert, scoping out the immediate vicinity while keeping one eye on Reece and his buddies. His jawbone flexed and his eyes narrowed. I could see him working out escape routes and contingency plans in his head.
‘Riley, got a minute to talk?’ It was Reece.
‘Yeah, sure,’ I said. I felt Luc tense up some more.
‘Alone,’ Reece said.
I raised my eyebrows, not sure how to answer.
‘Why alone?’ Luc asked Reece, his eyes narrowing further. ‘Why can’t you say what you need to say here? In front of me.’
He ignored Luc, his eyes resting on me, waiting for my reply.
‘It’s okay, Luc,’ I said. ‘I’ll only be a sec. Okay?’
Luc scowled as Reece and I rose and
left the circle. Reece led me a little way off, out of earshot of the rest of them before speaking. He leant in close, his breath warm on my ear.
‘What’s the deal with your friend?’ he asked.
‘Who? Luc?’
‘He doesn’t like me,’ Reece said. ‘And he doesn’t like you being here. Is he going to cause us any trouble? Should we be worried about him?’
‘Luc? No, definitely not. He’s just looking out for me, that’s all.’
‘You and him together then?’
I considered his question – were Luc and I together? No. I didn’t think we were. The thought made me die a little inside. I wondered why Reece was even asking me such a question.
‘No,’ I said. ‘No, we’re not together.’
‘Good,’ Reece replied. And then he smiled, his shoulders relaxing. ‘Send him home and stay a while. I’ll drop you back later.’
Why was he being so nice? And then I realised . . . Oh no, did he like me? No. He couldn’t. This was Reece, who’d made it abundantly clear he didn’t want me around.
His invitation to stay here without Luc made my stomach flip, but not in a good way.
‘Thanks,’ I said, ‘but I can’t. I have to get back. My Pa . . . There’s too much to do at home.’
‘Just one drink then. One for the road. Lou can entertain your friend while we talk.’
‘I don’t think Luc will want to . . .’
‘Lou!’ Reece called out, cutting me off. ‘Give Riley’s friend a tour of The Walls. Show him the sights.’ And then he casually placed his arm around my shoulders. I froze.
‘Another time, Reece,’ I stammered. ‘I really have to get back.’
‘You really don’t,’ he whispered in my ear.
Whatever I’d thought about Reece before – about his charm and his looks – I definitely wasn’t feeling it now. His arm around me felt proprietorial and threatening and I was pretty sure it was only done to piss Luc off.
It worked.