Jamie nodded.
‘And now you are known as Jacob?’ Matthew continued quizzing him. ‘You confessed your sin to me? A particular sin involving a young girl?’
Jamie felt his cheeks colour with shame and nodded.
‘Very well,’ Matthew said, apparently satisfied that he had the right person. He turned to the guards. ‘You may leave him with me.’
They hesitated.
‘Did you not hear me? Leave.’
They turned and walked out of the front door. Jamie didn’t blame them for not wanting to leave Matthew alone with him. How did they know Jamie wasn’t dangerous? They hadn’t even searched him for a weapon.
‘Follow me, Jacob. I have need of you.’
Jamie followed Matthew up the wide wooden staircase, curious, but reminding himself he was here to serve and not to question. The rich scent of wood and polish made him suddenly nostalgic for a forgotten time and he briefly ran his hand along the smooth dark banister, before letting it drop back down to his side.
They reached a wide landing and Matthew walked up a couple more steps and into a room. Jamie followed him inside. The room was beautiful. Gorgeous. The most lovely space Jamie had ever seen in his life, steeped in luxuries from a long ago era. Irrationally, its beauty made him want to weep, but of course he did not.
A huge picture window dominated the room, framed with bronze velvet curtains; a tranquil view of jewel-green grass, trees and sky beyond. The warm elegance of the place was even more startling to Jamie after the basic quarters he’d become used to at the arena. Paintings of landscapes sat inside gilt frames and a long gold mirror gleamed above a mahogany chest. Carved chairs and upholstered sofas sat upon intricate rugs, which in turn sat upon a thick cream carpet. Jamie realised his grass and mud-stained feet were now soiling this impossibly pale floor covering and he wondered if Matthew would notice.
The disciple bade him sit in one of the carved chairs. Jamie did as he was told and watched Matthew walk across to the window and gaze out. He seemed even more imposing than the last time they’d met. More sure of himself, if that were even possible.
‘Tell me your confession again.’
Jamie’s throat went dry and his heart sped up. Again? He thought all that was behind him. That once he’d gotten everything off his chest the first time he would never have to think of it again. That was how it was supposed to work. Right? But then he remembered this morning’s goldfinches trusting to nature, and the promise he’d made himself to trust to God and His disciples, so he choked back his fear and began to talk.
‘I accidentally killed a girl. I broke into her garden. Into her poolhouse.’ Jamie’s voice sounded strange to his own ears. He wasn’t used to talking. ‘She saw me and I was scared she’d run off and get her parents so I tried to stop her, but she fell backwards through the door. It was glass – the door, I mean – and a piece of it fell out of the frame and into her throat.’ Jamie said the words, but he tried not to think of their meaning. He tried to keep the warriors’ chant in his head to stop the image of the girl seeping into his mind. ‘She died. Instantly. And I ran off.’ Jamie bowed his head, shame revisiting him once more.
‘Remind me, where did this happen?’ Matthew asked, still turned to the window.
‘At the Talbot Woods Perimeter.’
‘When?’
‘A while back. A couple of months I guess. It was the day before I met Mr Carter.’
‘Do you know the name of this girl?’
Jamie swallowed. ‘No,’ he said. Did Matthew know the girl? Was that why he was here? Jamie didn’t want to know her name. In fact, if Matthew told him her name, Jamie was quite sure he would break down. But the disciple changed the subject and Jamie was able to breathe once more.
‘You know Our Father has been taken.’ Matthew turned away from the window to face him.
Jamie nodded, twisting his hands in his lap. ‘I’ve been praying for him.’
‘He was attacked. Viciously attacked. His vocal chords are permanently damaged. And now he has been abducted. The people who did this will be punished.’
‘Do you know who they are?’
‘Do not question me.’
Jamie bowed his head, conscious that he had overstepped the mark. But Matthew didn’t seem angry. Strangely, he seemed almost elated.
‘I am The Voice of the Father now,’ he said softly.
Jamie looked up at Matthew, who was unable to fully conceal his pride. No wonder the boy appeared so confident and commanding. He was in charge of the whole sodding place. Jamie didn’t know whether to be flattered to have been brought to his attention, or terrified that he was here under scrutiny.
‘Will . . . Will Our Father be okay?’ Jamie asked, unable to stop himself. ‘Will we be able to rescue him?’
‘Yes, when the time is right,’ Matthew replied. ‘But now you may resume your training. It suits you. You will do well as a soldier. I may have further use for you. Expect to return.’ Matthew turned back to the window and signalled to someone outside, beyond Jamie’s view. ‘My brothers wait in the courtyard. They will return you to your duties.’
Jamie stood uncertainly, but Matthew remained with his back to him, and so he left the room and made his way down the stairs, out into the courtyard where the two men were waiting. They accompanied him back to the arena where he rejoined his brothers in the arena to continue praying for James Grey’s safe return.
Jamie still had no idea what this morning’s visit had really meant. Why he’d been summoned to a private meeting with Grey’s top disciple and why he had been asked to repeat his confession.
Jamie awoke to the sound of bells. He opened his eyes. It was still dark. In their damp quarters, his brothers stirred around him. What were those bells? They grew louder. A fire? Some kind of alarm? He sat upright and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. And then the bells stopped for a moment and a voice called out:
‘Awaken, Warriors of Our Father, and prepare for Battle. Awaken, Warriors. To arms!’
The bells started up again, louder still, and a hooded figure appeared in the doorway, holding a lantern and swinging a hand bell. Calling them to battle. The disciple’s body merged with the shadows, making him appear a giant, filling the doorframe, as the bells filled the room with their insistence.
Jamie rose from his place on the ground with a thumping heartbeat and a swooping sensation in his stomach. This was it. After weeks of training, they were finally to go into battle. He and his brothers stood, all eyes on their brother in the doorway. The figure moved away, calling along the corridors, ringing the bells and rousing Grey’s Warriors from their slumber.
So today would be the day they would mount a rescue operation. They would take back their Father and stamp out the hostile forces who threatened their way of life. Warriors and trainees alike were to fight, and this evening they would leave the training ground. To travel by night and rest by day.
In their chilly quarters, Jamie and his brothers spent the morning kneeling on the ground to clean and sharpen their weapons. He found these familiar tasks soothing and he tried not to think too hard about using these deadly arms for real against a flesh and blood enemy instead of the usual cloth dummies and distant targets. But he would do what had to be done. He would make Grey’s abductors pay for their wrongdoings.
They ate lunch in their quarters and then began packing their kit. They were issued with ammunition, new warmer under-clothing and water bottles. Extra ammo and supplies would also be brought along in supply vehicles. The day was almost done and Jamie felt the tension and anticipation in the air around him. No one spoke, but the atmosphere was fevered – part anticipation, part fear.
They were ready.
He and his brothers donned their warriors’ cloaks and packs, left their quarters and made their way out into the vast, cold arena. Jamie’s breath flowed before him like soft warm pillows. But that was something he couldn’t think about, for he had a full night’s march ahead of him before he cou
ld rest his head again. Torches blazed around the outside of the arena, though remnants of light still hung in the sky. Once the day fully gave way to the stars, they would abandon their training ground and head south.
Rising up into the night, the faint sound of the chant began to wend through the ranks. Inspiring and calming. A call to arms. A prayer for the righteous. Along the rows of soldiers this grid of sound, swelling from a barely audible hum into a menacing battle cry. Jamie’s voice merged with his brothers and his mind cleared as he prepared to leave the arena. He would put one foot in front of the other, like his brother before him and his brother behind. A movement in the ranks broke his meditation.
Two robed men. Matthew’s guards.
This could only mean one thing – that Jamie was to be summoned once more for an audience with The Voice of the Father. Was it his imagination or did these guards seem more deferential this time? They did not grab his arms or prod him in the direction they wanted him to move. Instead they had bowed and gestured that he follow them.
His warrior brothers did not so much as glance his way as he was led from the arena. Jamie was used to their apparent lack of curiosity by now. If it had been someone else being taken away, he too would have been careful not to stare. The Voice of the Father had warned him that he would be summoned again, so this shouldn’t have come as too much of a shock. But why now? At this crucial time.
The two guards flanked him as they left the training ground, but it felt like they were accompanying him, rather than guarding. Jamie was dressed for war, with a full complement of weapons, but Matthew’s guards did not asked him to disarm. He was surprised when one of them spoke:
‘The Voice of the Father requests your presence in The North Canonry.’
It was bewildering to him. What could he, Jamie, have to offer at a time like this? What could Matthew possibly want with him?
Out of the arena, without his brothers around him, Jamie felt the full force of the cold night air. It sharpened his senses and set his mind racing. Yet again, something was about to change in his life. He could feel it. But he didn’t yet know if would be a great thing or a terrible thing.
Their footfalls crunched across the frosty ground and the night wind sliced through his cloak. He picked up a familiar scent and, sure enough, three horses had been tethered outside the main entrance. The guards mounted and bid Jamie do the same. He stroked his horse’s nose, put his foot in the stirrup and swung his other leg over the saddle.
‘We ride to The Close,’ one of the guards said, before disappearing across the water meadow.
They galloped through the crisp darkness, stopping only to let themselves through the many gates. Jamie wished they could have kept going all night, enjoying the warm solidity of the horse and the chill wind on his cheeks. But all too soon they were within The Close, trotting along the narrow pathways and cantering over the wider grassy areas. Before long, the horses’ hooves clopped to a halt outside the house Jamie had previously visited. He assumed it was where Matthew lived. The guards dismounted and Jamie did the same, patting the neck of his steed, reluctant to give her up and discover his fate.
Chapter Twenty Six
Riley
‘I bloody hate those wild dogs,’ Denzil grumbled. ‘Give me a bunch of armed raiders any day over a pack of those psycho mutts.’
‘It’ll be fine, Den,’ I said. ‘They won’t be interested in you.’
‘That’s what you say now. But we’ll be out in the open and they’ll sniff out my weakness.’
I laughed. ‘Denzil, what weakness? You’re the toughest bloke I know.’
‘Frickin dogs though,’ he muttered under his breath.
I heard a rattle and a crash behind us and whipped my head around to look out the back window. ‘D’you think the trailer’ll be okay? It’s not liking the potholes.’
‘Yeah, be fine,’ he said, changing gear with a judder, almost tipping the horse box trailer right over.
I was amazed that Pa hadn’t totally ridiculed my idea. Granted, he’d raised an eyebrow a couple of times and wasn’t overly enthusiastic. But, after I’d explained the plan, all he’d done was sigh and say it couldn’t hurt and was worth a shot.
Good enough.
So now here I was with Denzil, outside on the heathland, scouring the frosted landscape for packs of wild dogs. We’d been out for almost an hour and there was no sign of anything. Not even a bird, let alone a dog. Pa wouldn’t be happy if we emptied his AV of fuel with nothing to show for it. Maybe we should’ve turned back and given up before we wasted the morning completely. Truth was, I felt a bit embarrassed about the whole idea. It could turn out to be a total non-event and make me look like an idiot.
‘Over there,’ Denzil said, reluctantly. ‘Lassie and co.’
‘What?’
‘Never mind. Before your time.’
I looked out of his window to where he was pointing and smiled. For off in the distance, a large smudge of canines loped toward us.
‘Turn the AV around,’ I said. ‘Quick.’
‘Thought we were gonna round ‘em up?’
‘We might not have to,’ I said. ‘Look, they’re headed this way anyway. They’re hungry. Coming to see if there’s any lunch.’
Denzil put the AV on a hard lock and turned it around so the horse box now faced the approaching pack. I opened my door and hopped out, revolver aimed in front of me. Then I jogged around to the rear of the trailer and began fumbling with the ramp. Denzil joined me, his weapon trained on the dogs, who had now broken into an all out run, yipping in excitement.
‘Shit,’ Denzil said. ‘Hurry up, girl. Them dogs is hungry. They’re liking the look of my tasty black ass.’
I spluttered out a hysterical giggle. ‘Shut up,’ I hissed. ‘Stop making me laugh. I can’t concentrate.’ Finally, sweating and shaking, I managed to undo the latch, and the ramp dropped down to the ground with a crash. We’d already placed a couple of dead cats into the trailer to lure the pack in, and now I tossed a couple of mutton bones from my bag onto the base of the ramp.
We backed out of the way around the side of the trailer and waited. Yelps and growls preceded the hysterical pack. They looked even meaner than the last time I’d seen them. As they approached, they slowed, warier now that they were up close to us. I aimed my gun. The scary part was waiting to see if they would go straight for the bait or try to attack us instead.
But our plan appeared to be working. Inanimate food seemed to be preferable to live prey. Thankfully, the dogs began growling at each other rather than at us, as they stalked the mutton bones, ears flat, eyes narrowed. Each one working out if it could get to the food before their pack mates. A brindled mutt made a dive for the largest bone and suddenly they were all on the ramp in an all out dog fight. Tearing at the bones and tearing into each other.
And then they scented the dead cats. A moment’s hesitation before most of the pack tore up the ramp and into the trailer. A couple of them had remained outside with the mutton bones and now trotted off, away from us, to enjoy their meaty prizes. Tails wagging, snarls forgotten.
Denzil and I cautiously made our way around behind the horsebox, weapons drawn. It was carnage inside the dark trailer and the dogs paid us no attention whatsoever. There must’ve been at least thirty of them, all climbing over each other to get at the meat. Between us, Denzil and I heaved up the ramp and closed up the trailer with a satisfying clang.
‘Perfect,’ I said.
‘Not bad,’ he replied.
A loud bang from inside the horse box made me jump.
‘They’re gonna kill themselves in there,’ Denzil said, shaking his head.
‘I hope not,’ I replied. If they did, it would all have been for nothing.
‘Better get back quickly before they do.’
We returned to the AV and Denzil started her up.
‘What do you think, Denzil? About all this stuff with FJ?’
‘It is what it is,’ he said. ‘We’re doi
ng what we can. If he turns up, we’ll take him down. I think it’s better this way.’
‘What do you mean, ‘better’?’
‘You don’t want the likes of FJ out there. Doing God knows what. Getting more powerful. This way, he comes to us and we eliminate the threat straightaway. It’s better.’
I hadn’t thought of it like that. What Denzil said made some sense. We had to treat this as an opportunity, not a threat. ‘I just wish we had extra time to prepare.’
‘No,’ he said. ‘Extra time to get scared, more like. We need to get this done as soon as possible. Anyway, we’ve already got a massive advantage.’
‘How d’you figure that?’
‘Well, FJ doesn’t realise we know he’s coming. He thinks he’s gonna turn up here and surprise us, unprepared. But we’ve had a few days to get sorted. Get provisions. Build our defences. Liss did us a massive favour by warning us. FJ’s gonna be pissed.’
‘True,’ I said.
‘Too right it’s true. And believe me, that stacks the odds in our favour. Way, way in our favour.’ He nodded and started to hum a tune under his breath. I sank back into my seat feeling slightly more reassured than I’d felt on the way out.
During the brief journey home, I scanned the curve of the land, keeping a look out for Luc and Eddie’s trucks returning, but there was nothing to see. Not even a speck on the horizon.
To look at them now, you wouldn’t have thought these were the same wild creatures that had been out on the heath that morning. They were now lying in an open barn in one of the farmer’s livestock pens, docile as anything. Only a couple of dogs showing any sign of agitation, skirting the perimeter of their spacious quarters in a frenzied attempt to find a way out. But I bet if we’d thrown any food in there, they’d have gone mental.
After our first successful trip out, Denzil and I had brought the dogs back and then returned to the wilderness, heading in a different direction this time. We managed to track down another large pack. Then another. And another. Each time, capturing them had been as straightforward as the first, and we now had well in excess of two hundred dogs.