The Named

by Marianne Curley

  Outside my bedroom door I bump straight into Jimmy, who shushes me with a sharp frown. ‘Mum’s sleeping, let’s go.’

  ‘Matt too?’

  He shrugs. ‘I don’t know where he is. He’s not in his room.’

  We hurry down the hallway, but once we get near the front door, both of us stop in our tracks. The door is open, yanked off its hinges, smudges of blood on its slanted front. Furniture in the immediate area has been knocked around. Obviously there’s been a scuffle where someone’s been hurt. The last person I know that came to this door was Mr Carter. ‘What happened, Jimmy? Do you think Mr Carter and Matt got into a fight?’

  He shakes his head. ‘I can’t see that happening.’

  ‘How well do you know Mr Carter? Sometimes he acts weird.’

  ‘That’s just him, Isabel. Don’t jump to conclusions.’ Jimmy pushes me towards the opening, then sets the door in place, repairing the hinges and fractured splinters with just the touch of his hand. Even the blood disappears. ‘How does that look?’

  ‘Great.’ I’m surprised at his skill, but then remind myself that Jimmy is the one who set the traps in the ancient city, so the simple fixing of a door shouldn’t really be too astonishing.

  We take off with a run up the hill to Arkarian’s chambers. We meet Shaun at the entrance and follow him in. Once inside the octagonal room, we realise straight away that something is terribly wrong. The first thing is that Arkarian isn’t here, and neither is Mr Carter. Second the 3-D sphere in the centre of the room is black and motionless.

  Jimmy looks particularly concerned, but tries to lighten the tension in the room. ‘How can we form a strategy when our chief strategist has gone walk about?’ He then tells Shaun about the break-in to my place. As Shaun listens, he walks around the room, touching things and looking under them as if Arkarian might somehow appear from beneath his fingers.

  ‘What do you think happened?’ I ask Shaun, with a heavy sense of foreboding.

  ‘We’re not likely to know until we track Arkarian down.’ With these words he glances up and around at the ceiling. ‘Arkarian? Answer if you can!’

  Silence. And then Mr Carter bursts into the room. Even before he says a word, it’s obvious that something catastrophic has happened. He doubles over, his chest heaving. Perspiration is pouring off his face, which is red from strong exertion.

  ‘What happened, Marcus?’ Jimmy asks, helping him to a seat.

  ‘I’ve been running, mostly, after that madman Marduke.’

  ‘He never was one for fair play,’ Shaun says. ‘Did he decide to start the tournament without us?’

  ‘You could say that.’ Mr Carter glances over at me, his eyes ready to impart bad news. ‘And he’s raised the stakes, considerably.’

  I take a deep breath, thinking something must have happened to Ethan. But then he says, ‘I’m sorry, Isabel, but Marduke’s got Matt.’

  His words hit me hard. ‘Wh-what?’ Even though I saw the destruction at my own front door, my mind won’t register that this fight could have anything to do with Matt. He’s not part of this other world. It can’t be him!

  ‘Tell us what happened,’ Shaun urges, grabbing Mr Carter’s forearm in a solid grip. ‘Hurry, man!’

  ‘You know I went to distract Matt—’

  Our nods and grunts urge him on. He sucks in a calming breath, and begins to explain. ‘He’d let me in and we talked for a few minutes. Then suddenly there was a commotion at the front door. Matt opened the door and there’s this giant of a man grinning at him with half a mouth and only one eye. He wasn’t wearing a mask or anything. Obviously he wanted to take Matt off guard.’

  Jimmy puts his hand over mine. ‘He’s been watching you, and he’s seen how close you and your brother are. This is how he works, getting to people through their loved ones.’

  My eyes shut of their own accord. How can this be happening?

  Mr Carter goes on, ‘For a moment Matt just stared in disbelief. Then Marduke made as if to put his hand on Matt’s head. I’ve heard about the power in that creature’s hands so I called out to Matt to get out of the way. Matt’s reflexes are swift. And sensing danger, he moved quickly to shut the door. Not that it would have stopped Marduke, but Matt didn’t know this. Marduke put his foot in the door and, shoving it with his shoulder, knocked it clear off its hinges. His next move was like lightning, striking out at Matt’s head with the back of his hand. The blow sent Matt flying against the door, knocking him unconscious.’

  ‘Are you sure he still lives?’ I ask with my heart clambering up my throat. Instinctively, my fingers fly to touch the area as though to calm it.

  ‘Oh, yes.’ Mr Carter looks up at me. ‘Dead, he would be no use to Marduke. The monster flung Matt over his shoulder and started running. I took off after them. He carried Matt up those godforsaken hills all the way to a clearing on the far side of the lake. I thought I would lose them, but then Marduke did something.’ Mr Carter pauses and Jimmy hands him a glass of water. ‘Marduke turned back and I realised he knew I was following him all the time. He raised his hand, creating a brilliant green light, then simply disappeared through it, taking Matt with him.’

  ‘So what happened then?’ Shaun asks with an impatient note in his voice.

  ‘Unbelievable,’ Mr Carter says, taking a sip from his glass. ‘The green light remained for a few minutes. It was like a doorway. I could look through it.’

  ‘What did you see?’ I ask in a whisper, wanting, yet not wanting, to know what Marduke has done with my brother.

  ‘I saw a dense forest where Matt is tied to a tree.’

  Shaun sighs. ‘I bet he’s taken him to France – the Ardennes – to the year after our fight.’

  It’s Jimmy who realises the full horror of Marduke’s act. ‘He has taken Matt’s mortal body to France.’

  ‘What does this mean?’ I practically screech.

  The three men glance uneasily at each other. But then I start to figure it out for myself. Our mortal bodies cannot shift through time – only our souls. ‘How much time does he have?’

  Jimmy’s shoulders lift in a shrug. ‘It’s hard to tell, but Matt is young and healthy. That will help.’

  Silence follows, then Mr Carter goes on with his story. ‘The other five warriors are already there, waiting for us with medieval swords.’

  ‘Of course,’ Shaun says. ‘We’ll have to fight with the weapons of that time. Marduke wants a re-enactment of our duel, but on his terms. A clever and cunning man.’

  Right now I can’t think of complimenting that hideous creature. ‘What about Matt?’ My voice cracks as I fight to hold back tears.

  ‘He’ll be all right,’ Jimmy tells me, though he can’t have any idea whether this is true or not. ‘He’s a strong lad.’

  ‘He must be so confused.’

  ‘The last I saw, he was unconscious,’ Mr Carter says, ‘and if we’re lucky he’ll stay that way until we can get him back.’

  ‘How are we going to do that?’ My voice turns shrill. ‘There are six of them and we don’t have Ethan or Arkarian.’

  Jimmy rubs my arm, trying to comfort me.

  Mr Carter gets up and walks a few paces, then stops and turns. ‘There’s something else I have to tell you.’

  ‘About Matt?’ I ask, almost screeching now. ‘What more can there be?’

  ‘They’re using him … Well, you see, as I left, I saw what they were planning.’

  ‘Out with it, Marcus,’ Jimmy urges.

  ‘They were making a bed of dry wood around his feet.’

  Everyone goes silent. I try to visualise what Mr Carter means. ‘Wood? But why?’ And then it hits me. ‘They’re going to burn him? While his mortal body is trapped in the past? Oh, my God!’

  Jimmy puts his arm around my waist, drawing me to him, as panic starts to swell.

  ‘Marduke means to use him as a threat. To bully us, you could say.’

  For a few moments my strangled gasps are the only sound in the room as
sobs begin to form deep in my throat. Then a whooshing sound draws my tear-stained face from Jimmy’s shirt front. It’s Arkarian, with his arms held out to me. I run into them and they fold gently but firmly around me. Instantly, I feel a calm centre through my entire body. I look up, and violet eyes, shimmering with moisture, lock on to mine; courage and strength fill me. ‘Marduke has Matt,’ I whisper. ‘Trapped in the past.’

  ‘I know. I’ve been briefed. But not for long, Isabel.’

  ‘How can we beat this madman and his warriors? How, Arkarian?’

  ‘With everything we have.’

  ‘I’ll die for Matt if I have to.’

  ‘And I will die for you.’

  He says the words so quickly, so plainly, that at first the intensity of them doesn’t register. He draws away and the moment is lost. His presence gives everyone hope, sets them moving to form a plan. I stand to the side while Arkarian takes control, and Shaun, Jimmy and Mr Carter discuss strategy. Still, I can’t believe we have a chance to beat Marduke unless we’re at full force. ‘Where is Ethan?’

  They all stop for a moment and glance at me, and I see in their faces their own doubts. They know it too, we need Ethan and we need him quickly.

  Arkarian sighs, which only fuels my own worry further. ‘He’ll come.’

  ‘But does he know about Matt?’

  Another intense violet gaze. ‘He will come, Isabel. Trust in him.’

  ‘How long can we wait? How long before Marduke lights the fire beneath my brother’s feet?’

  ‘He won’t light the fire unless he thinks he’s losing.’

  ‘What! So how do we win and not lose Matt in the process?’

  ‘That’s what we’re trying to figure out right now, Isabel.’ His voice is so firm that tears well up in my eyes again. Immediately his whole manner softens. ‘Come and help us. Far better to have your mind focused on strategy than fear.’

  ‘But I fear I’ll fail. And I fear Ethan won’t return in time. And I fear my heart is going to burst from beating so hard. And—’

  Jimmy puts his arm around my shoulders and gathers me near. And as he speaks, his eyes rise up to glance across the top of my head to Shaun. ‘It’s always harder when it’s someone you love that’s in trouble.’

  Chapter Thirty-nine

  Ethan

  Organising the release of King Richard takes longer than I expect, even though time is hard to assess when I’m out of my mortal body. Getting me into Pontefract Castle, where Richard is secretly being kept in isolation, is not the problem, thanks to Arkarian, but talking one of the Lords of the Houses into helping is something else. Again I must thank Arkarian. He pulls some strings and somehow arranges a meeting with Penbarin, the Lord of Samartyne. The Lord is grumpy at having been woken from a sleep with a beautiful woman. He warns me it had better be good. A few minutes into my explanation he’s sitting on the edge of his seat, listening intently.

  ‘Are you crazy, boy?’

  ‘Probably, sir.’ I pause for just a moment. ‘But I’m going to do this whether you help me or not.’

  Penbarin scoffs at my arrogance, briefly looking to Arkarian, who stands away to the side with both hands lifted in a gesture of puzzlement.

  ‘He’s been warned,’ Arkarian says. ‘He knows that the punishment for manipulating the past is likely to be his expulsion from the Guard.’

  Penbarin looks back at me with eyes that seem to see through my brain. ‘And still you intend to go through with this plan?’

  ‘Yes,’ I say plainly.

  Penbarin’s hands fly into the air. ‘If I don’t help you, your precious king will die a very slow and torturous death as every cell in his body struggles to survive outside his own time. The only way a mortal body can survive such a time shift is if he is placed in the sealed chambers here almost instantly.’

  ‘I know, sir, that’s why I’m standing here before you … pleading for you to help me make this happen.’

  ‘Hmm, this is an intriguing situation,’ Penbarin kind of hisses through his teeth. ‘You’d risk your own future for this man?’

  ‘Yes, sir. For this king.’

  ‘And yet you can’t tell me why you do it?’

  ‘No, sir.’

  Penbarin’s eyes roll heavenward, indicating he’s about to relent. I hold my breath until I hear the words themselves flow through his lips. ‘I’ll help you, Ethan, but only because I’ll not stand by and watch a king die an agonising death because some young foolish Guard has a crazy notion to set things right.’

  His words are a great relief.

  ‘But remember this: I’ll not support you at your trial before the Tribunal, which is sure to follow your breach of one of the Guard’s strictest rules – never to alter the past with our own hands.’

  As Arkarian and I leave Penbarin’s rooms, I think about how I will probably be disbarred for ever, which saddens me immensely, and again I have to ask myself, what is driving me to do this? My feelings of friendship for this man, this hugely unpopular king, are not motive enough for such a gesture.

  I honestly don’t know.

  Even though he clearly stated his conscientious disapproval, Penbarin will not back down now that he has given his word. So King Richard II will not die if I can get him out of that castle quickly.

  And so Arkarian and I hurry.

  I’m fully aware of just how little time I have to pull this off. And my guilt at leaving the others to battle Marduke without full numbers weighs my thoughts down so heavily, it’s a wonder I can think straight at all. Leaving them short was never my intention. I just have to do this deed as quickly as possible. I’ve been away too long already, with my emergency trip to Athens, but without that detail organised there’d be no point to what I’m doing: it has to be all of Richard’s body and soul that I shift through time. And I cannot just rescue him and set him free to roam around in his own time, for surely he’ll gather support and try to take his crown back. And this is not the way history unfolds.

  No way.

  Arkarian leaves me in order to return to the others and prepare for battle. Meanwhile I shift through time to Pontefract Castle in Yorkshire – landing on a putrid stone floor full of dirty straw and rats’ droppings.

  King Richard looks up from his position slumped on the floor. His eyes are bleary, surrounded by dark circles, his face pale and gaunt. ‘Hugo? Hugo Monteblain? How did you …?’ He glances around the otherwise empty room. ‘I’m hallucinating again.’

  I squat down beside him. ‘You’re not hallucinating, Your Majesty.’

  He waves a weak hand in front of my face. ‘Haven’t you heard the news? Hal of Bolingbroke now sits on the throne,’ he says bitterly. ‘I should never have gone to Ireland. They tricked and deceived me there, you know. I had no choice but to abdicate. And now I am to die here – I, a king, left to rot among foul garbage and vermin!’

  I take his shoulders and give him a strong shake. ‘You’re not going to die here. I’ll not allow it.’

  His dark eyes lock with mine, but still his voice is piteous. ‘And how are you going to get me past those guards, hmm?’ He points over his shoulder to the thick wooden door with the small iron grille window.

  ‘The same way I got in here. Now, can you stand up?’

  A brief spark lights his eyes as he starts to believe. But a thump on the door has us both ducking to the ground. ‘Who are you talking to in there?’

  With a finger to my lips I give my head a quick negative shake. Richard replies, ‘You leave me no choice but to converse with my own self to keep from going insane.’

  The guard laughs, but not a friendly one. ‘Wallow in your own medicine,’ he says sarcastically and walks off.

  ‘Quickly,’ I whisper.

  At the sound of retreating footsteps, Richard struggles to his feet with my arm for support. I take the silver cloak Penbarin gave me for the job, wrap it around the king, and call Arkarian.

  Nothing happens.

  The guard hears me ca
ll and comes back, thumping again on the door. ‘What’s that strange name you call?’

  ‘What?’ King Richard snaps at the guard. ‘I call no one. Dreaming is all I do. Who do you think would help me in this godforsaken hole?’

  I see the guard peering through the bars and hold my breath, while hanging on to Richard and trying to conceal myself between the folds of the wide cloak. I need to call again, as nothing has happened as planned, but to call again will surely raise this guard’s curiosity too high.

  ‘What are you doing there?’ the guard asks, seeing Richard standing in an unusual position with his back to the door and wearing a strange silver cloak. ‘Something is going on.’

  The sound of the key going into the lock has me deciding quickly to risk calling Arkarian again.

  Nothing.

  Oh, hell! I never meant to kill us both.

  ‘Arkarian! For God’s sake, where are you?’

  ‘You do have someone in there.’ The door now opens wide. ‘You! Who are you? Where did you come from?’

  ‘Arkarian!’

  The guard draws his sword. I manage to hold Richard up with one arm and draw my sword with the other. Just then I feel the familiar sensations of imminent transportation taking hold. But I can’t allow this guard to watch us disappear. Surprising him, I aim a sharp kick to the back of his head, and he falls to the ground out cold an instant before my body begins to shift.

  At last, the king’s prison cell fades from view.

  Chapter Forty

  Isabel

  Marduke’s tumultuous roar fills Arkarian’s chamber, letting us know our wait is over. The unnerving sound causes chills to slice through my body, and the others feel the same, I sense. Our eyes shift to each other around the room, understanding that we can’t wait any longer for Ethan to appear, and that we must go into this battle disadvantaged.