‘No, I’m not!’
‘It was prophesied.’
‘Don’t keep using long words to try and confuse me.’
‘Matt was told you’d come here.’
‘How could he have been? I’m not the lamb.’
Suddenly The Kid spoke.
‘He’s not the messiah,’ he said. ‘He’s just a very naughty boy.’
Sam laughed. He’d seen that film, Monty Python’s Life of Brian. It was one of Dad’s favourites. The Kid laughed too. Maybe he didn’t blame Sam after all.
Sharing a joke like this broke the spell, made everything more normal. Sam noticed that even one of the guards was trying not to laugh. They couldn’t actually believe all this rubbish, could they? Had Matt really brainwashed them so completely?
It felt very different in the cathedral when Matt wasn’t around. There was a much more relaxed, normal atmosphere. And now, bang on cue, all ready to spoil the party, he came in. Swishing in through the side door that led to the stairs, followed by Archie and Nathan.
Sam felt the place go cold. The smile died on the guard’s lips.
Matt had his own smile, big enough for all of them. He approached Sam and did a little bow with his head.
‘How are you today, my lord?’
‘Terrible,’ said Sam. ‘I hardly slept at all.’
‘Your mind is troubled,’ said Matt. ‘You are waking up. The light of truth is entering and pushing out the darkness. Maybe it’s too bright for you to sleep.’
‘No, it’s too bloody loud. That so-called music is doing my head in.’
‘The truth is waking inside you.’
‘You twist everything,’ Sam snapped. ‘That’s not what’s happening. Why don’t you just let me and The Kid go? We don’t want to join in your stupid games.’
‘He casts a strong spell over you, the Goat.’
‘He’s not a goat, he’s a kid. He’s The Kid and I don’t mean like a young goat, I mean that’s his name.’
‘His name is The Kid?’
‘Yes, that’s what we call him.’
‘And what’s his real name?’
‘I don’t know, do I? He’s never told me. He’s just The Kid. That’s it. Full names don’t really much matter any more, do they?’
‘You see how he’s deceived you?’ said Matt. ‘How he’s hiding who he really is from you?’
‘No, I don’t see that at all. He just uses a nickname.’
‘But most people with a nickname, they’d tell you their real name, wouldn’t they?’
‘He’s not like most people.’
‘Ah … ’
‘I don’t mean anything like that, stop twisting things. He’s just different.’
‘He is truly different.’ Matt now turned to the cage. ‘Tell us your real name,’ he said.
‘Rumpelstiltskin,’ said The Kid.
Sam saw the mask slip. A flicker passed across Matt’s face and he looked annoyed for a moment. He was used to everyone there listening carefully to everything he said, looking up to him, worshipping him even. The Kid knew how to get to him.
Matt moved closer to the cage, leant towards The Kid. When he spoke, it was quiet and intense.
‘What should we call you?’ he said. ‘What is your true name? Are you the First Beast? The Second Beast? The Whore of Babylon? The dragon? Beelzebub, Satan, Lucifer, Leviathan … ’
‘Dave Dee, Dozy, Beaky, Mick and Titch,’ The Kid interrupted. Again there was a flicker of irritation from Matt before he pressed on.
‘Baphomet, Iblis, Shayatan, Belial, Azazel … ’
‘Pugh, Pugh, Barney McGrew, Cuthbert, Dibble, Grub … ’
‘You see.’ Matt turned to Sam, holding his arms wide. ‘He’s trying to confuse us with his magic.’
‘No, he’s not,’ said Sam. ‘He’s having a joke with you. This is all whack.’
Again Matt spoke to The Kid.
‘Just tell us your real name,’ he said. ‘It’ll save us all a lot of time.’
‘I’m The Kid is all you need to know.’
‘What kid?’
‘The Milky Bar Kid, the Silky Bra Kid, Billy the Kid, Billy the Fish, Super Meat Boy, Kid Jenson, kid leather, I kid you not.’
‘Tell us your name!’ Matt screeched at him.
‘What difference does it make what his name is?’ said Sam. ‘Leave him alone.’
‘The first step to taming the beast is to find out its name.’
‘He’s not a beast, though, is he?’
‘And you shall know him by what he brings. He shall carry a sword, but that sword shall be broken. By his dress also shall ye know him … ’
‘What are you talking about?’
‘It was all in the prophecy. It was all written down. “By his dress also shall ye know him … ” And see, he’s wearing a dress.’
Sam gave a snort of laughter. ‘Don’t be crazy,’ he said. ‘That just means dress, like in what he’s wearing, not dress as in a dress.’
‘It’s all written down,’ said Matt, ignoring Sam. ‘And it’s also written down that we have to find out his real name.’
‘Where’s it written?’
‘It is written. That’s all you need to know.’
‘I bet it’s not. I bet you’re making it up.’
‘We have to know his name.’
‘Well, he’s not going to tell you, is he?’
‘We’ll get him to talk.’
‘Good luck,’ said Sam. ‘If he doesn’t want to do something he won’t.’
‘The truth is stronger than lies,’ said Matt. ‘It will always win and it will always show itself in the end. Unlock the cage.’
Sam felt his heart lift. They were going to let The Kid out. Maybe Matt was starting to see sense. One of Sam’s guards unlocked the door and swung it open. Matt’s acolytes had come over to watch. Matt spoke softly to them and they nodded.
After a while The Kid got up and climbed out; he looked stiff and awkward and took a few moments to straighten up and stamp some life back into his feet. Sam gave him a hug.
‘Kiss me, Hardy,’ said The Kid.
‘Kiss yourself,’ said Sam.
‘I’ll fettle thee!’
Matt watched them for a few seconds then made a sign and what happened next shocked Sam. One of the acolytes grabbed hold of The Kid and pulled his sleeveless leather jacket off, then two more of them pulled down the top of his flowery dress. This time The Kid struggled, but it was no use, he was overpowered. The acolytes took him over so that he was standing facing the cage. Matt then tied his skinny wrists to the bars with two thick leather bootlaces. They cut into The Kid’s skin and his hands started to go red.
‘What are you doing, you perverts!’ The Kid yelled. ‘Take your stinking paws off me, you damned dirty apes!’
Sam turned to Tish for support, for some sort of explanation; he was too upset to speak. Tish looked embarrassed and slightly ashamed. She shrugged and turned away.
An acolyte passed Matt a horsewhip. Sam couldn’t believe he was going to use it on The Kid. But then Matt stepped forward and touched the tip of it to The Kid’s back.
‘Tell us your name.’
‘No,’ said The Kid quietly.
‘You will tell us or I will beat it out of you.’
‘It’s none of your bloody business.’
‘You can’t hide behind your lies any longer. We will discover the truth.’
‘You can shove the truth up your hairy arse, you church monkey.’
One of the acolytes had gone up into the pulpit and now started to ring a handbell, clang-clang-clang. One by one the children in the cathedral, all except the ones playing the music, drifted over and formed a semicircle round the cage. A sea of green.
‘Only in pain will the truth be revealed,’ said Matt. ‘We must force the demon from the flesh.’
‘If you hurt him I swear I will kill you,’ Sam sobbed.
‘Whoever spares the rod hates his son,’ said Matt. ‘Bu
t he who loves him is diligent to discipline him.’
‘I swear I will!’
‘Tell us your name!’ Matt cried out, his voice echoing in the vast emptiness of the cathedral.
‘No!’
‘You’ll tell us eventually. Tell us now and spare yourself the pain.’
‘Oh bondage, up yours.’
‘Your name!’ Matt brought the whip down and it cracked into The Kid’s back, a deeper thud sounding under the harsh slap. The Kid leapt and writhed, straining at the cords that only cut deeper into his wrists. An ugly red stripe appeared diagonally across his skin.
‘Tell us your name.’
‘No.’
The Kid yelped as Matt brought the whip swishing down again. He sagged against the bars, sweat pouring down his back. He was muttering and mumbling. The second lash made a squashed X on his skin and welts were beginning to rise up. Sam couldn’t move; one of the boys was holding him still. He looked round at the green-clothed congregation. Some looked upset, hands clamped over their mouths, staring wide-eyed; others looked at the floor; a few of them were sniggering and pointing.
Matt had a wild look. He was enjoying this. Sam thought this was about nothing more than showing off his power. That and getting his kicks. This was the worst bullying Sam had ever seen. And it was so unfair. The Kid hadn’t done anything. He was a nice guy. To see him beaten like this was more than Sam could bear. He tried to pull away from his guard, to kick his shins. But it was useless. The boy was strong and knew what he was doing. Sam obviously wasn’t the first person he’d held like this.
Thwack. The whip lashed down for a third time and The Kid jumped like a kicked cat.
‘Tell us your name. I won’t stop until you tell us your real name!’
Tell him your name, Sam pleaded silently, please.
‘It’s Angus,’ The Kid wailed as if he could hear Sam’s thoughts. ‘My name’s Angus Day. Now just leave me alone, will you?’
Matt suddenly stopped. His arm went limp. All the kids stood shocked and silent. Sam didn’t know what had happened, why The Kid’s real name was so important.
‘You’re lying,’ said Matt.
‘I’m not,’ said The Kid. ‘Why would I lie? What difference does it make if that’s my name? Angus Day? It’s what you wanted to know, isn’t it?’
Sam heard a girl standing nearby whisper to her friend, ‘We’ve made a mistake.’
Matt scratched his bald shaven head quickly, like a monkey.
A church monkey, thought Sam.
Matt nodded to Archie and the two of them moved away to talk quietly and excitedly with each other. Tish went forward and asked The Kid something. He shook his head. She gently stroked his back, trying to comfort him.
The boy finally let go of Sam, who called him a bastard and a few other things. The boy looked away, not wanting to catch Sam’s eye.
Presently Matt returned with Archie, both looking worried.
‘Untie him,’ Matt said. ‘It’s possible we’ve been deceived. Things might not be as straightforward as they appeared. The Goat is a trickster. He can’t be trusted.’
Sam grinned. They’d bought some time. The Kid’s real name obviously meant something to these children, but he had no idea what.
Matt approached him, stared into Sam’s face, searching for something.
‘OK,’ he said. ‘We need to put them both into the cage.’
35
‘This is your last chance to back out. I don’t want to force any of you to do anything you don’t want and nobody’s gonna say anything or think badly of you.’ Ed looked along the row of familiar faces: impossible to read. They all looked pretty grim, but that could mean anything.
None of them said anything.
‘OK, this is my idea,’ Ed went on. ‘To be honest with you, Jordan Hordern didn’t want me to do this at all. He’d rather I stayed here and didn’t risk losing anyone else. And it is a risk. I can’t lie about that. We don’t know what to expect when we get into the no-go zone. It’s going to be bad, though. We know that much. You all came with me the other day to rescue Tish, which is why I asked you. You know what to expect.’
‘Yeah,’ said Kyle. ‘Sickos.’
‘Exactly,’ Ed went on. ‘We took down a few of them, but there’s gonna be more. So, as I say, anyone have any doubts, you can step down now and that’ll be the end of it.’
Still nobody said anything. Nobody moved.
Ed smiled, his scar pulling his face out of shape.
They were standing by the big black gates of Middle Tower. Beyond those gates was the outside world.
There were five of them in all. They were the first people he’d asked and none of them had refused. They respected him and wanted to help. As well as crazy Kyle, who rarely left Ed’s side, Ed had chosen Hayden as she was the fastest runner in the Tower and had a cool head. Then Macca and Will. The two of them had fought well the other morning and hadn’t panicked. Will was smart; he’d help Ed make any tough decisions. Macca enjoyed a fight, had very good eyesight and was pretty handy with a crossbow. And lastly there was Adele, dressed from head to toe in pink and silver, a ladybird pin in her hair, but you still wouldn’t want to mess with her.
‘OK.’ Ed checked his mortuary sword, hanging from a scabbard at his belt, and tightened the straps. He was wearing his lightest armour and, as well as his sword, he carried a mace in his backpack, the heavy iron head sticking out of the top.
‘All we know is that Sam was heading for Buckingham Palace,’ he said. ‘About three or four miles west. The most direct, and the safest, way would be to keep close to the Thames and follow it along. That way we have the river at our shoulder the whole time. No risk of getting lost and no risk of attack from that side. If I was Sam that’s the route I’d’ve gone.’
‘Why don’t we do what DogNut did and take a boat?’ Macca asked. ‘We could skip the whole zone then.’
‘No.’ Ed shook his head and took a map out of his pack. ‘We need to be on Sam’s trail. He might still be in the zone somewhere. We have to follow the way we think he went. Look for signs, anything.’
He opened the map out on top of a collection box that had once taken visitor donations for the upkeep of the castle and pointed out the route to his gang, following it with his finger.
‘We cut along Lower Thames Street into Upper Thames Street then we go along Victoria Embankment until we reach Charing Cross station. That’s where we’ll move away from the river. Up through Trafalgar Square and along the Mall to the palace. It’s almost a straight line. If we keep our speed up it should take us an hour and a half, two hours max. It all depends on what we find along the way. Streets could be blocked, there could be too many sickos, God knows what, so we have to be prepared to change our route if we have to, and just hope that if we come up against anything bad we can ram our way through. From what we know this first bit’s gonna be the most dangerous. Hopefully once we’ve cleared the zone the streets will be safer.’
‘Why do we assume that?’ asked Will. ‘We don’t know anything about what’s out there.’
‘Tish came from some camp near Trafalgar Square,’ Ed explained. ‘And from what Sam told me, some kid turned up where his people were hiding out. He was from the palace and he persuaded all Sam’s mates to go into the centre of town because he said it was safer there. The bit between here and Charing Cross is the bit we don’t know about. The sickos in there don’t follow the rules. They don’t always sleep in the day. They’re smarter and pretty unpredictable. So we go fast, but not so fast that we might miss any signs of Sam and the others.’
‘What sort of signs?’ asked Hayden, who was doing some warm-up stretches as if she was about to run a race.
‘I don’t know, Hayden,’ Ed shrugged, trying not to sound too clueless. ‘Signs of a fight, blood, dead sickos. I can’t say right now. We just have to get a feel for the streets as we go.’
‘So we head for the palace?’ said Hayden. ‘And what do we do if he�
�s not there when we turn up?’
‘We work our way back, I guess,’ Ed replied. ‘At least we’ll have a better idea of what’s in the zone.’
‘So why don’t we just search the zone properly first?’ asked Will.
‘It’s too big, too dangerous and, if Sam did make it through, we’d be wasting our time, putting ourselves in danger for no reason. We can’t try and guess what might have happened to him along the way; all we can do is try and guess the route he took.’
‘Why don’t we just –?’ Macca started to say, but Kyle interrupted.
‘Why don’t we just get going?’ he said. ‘We’re wasting time here. Let’s get out there and crack some sicko skulls.’
He swung his heavy battleaxe and leered at the others with a wicked grin. They backed away from him, some complaining, some laughing, some swearing at him.
A bunch of kids – that’s all they were – getting ready for a school trip.
Ed watched them, hoping that he wasn’t leading them into disaster. They were good kids. Tough. Fit. All fighters. They had a pretty good chance. If only Jordan had let him take more, though. They were hardly an army, barely even a raiding party, but Ed had promised to stick by Jordan’s rules.
He thought about Small Sam, setting off out there with just The Kid and Tish for protection. He was struck again by how brave the two boys were, how lucky to have survived on the streets by themselves. He just hoped their luck was holding out. Hoped they’d be found safe and unharmed at the palace, reunited with Sam’s sister. Feet up, roasting their toes at the queen’s fireplace.
Ed had to accept, though, that this was a fool’s errand, crazy, doomed. The chances of finding Sam if he was stuck somewhere were tiny and the chances of him making it through alive were even tinier.
Ed had to try, though.
Because he’d also made a promise to Sam, hadn’t he?
His scar was throbbing, burning with a cold fire, like it always did when he was tense. Best not to think any more. Best to just get out there and take it moment by moment. He remembered what he’d said to Jordan last night, that the first thing to go out the window in a battle was your plan.
He stuffed the map into the back pocket of his jeans.
The Sacrifice Page 18