‘I do thank you,’ Hal said, wary that Maucus was on the brink of attacking. ‘Very much. But where do I go from here?’
‘Tread your own path, coz. You have had enough from me.’
Maucus disappeared so quickly it was as if the little man had decided he would simply no longer be seen. Yet his odour remained for a long while after, and Hal had the uneasy feeling that his former helper was still watching from some hidden vantage point, weighing up whether or not he should teach Hal a very unpleasant lesson.
It worried Hal sufficiently that he packed up his books and dropped them off at the enquiry desk, answering the librarian’s questions about his progress with a blank smile before hurrying out into the bitter day.
The mood after the Cabinet meeting was desolate. The General attempted to hold his head high as he marched out of the darkened room towards the Ministry of Defence offices, but once inside he was crushed by the absolute devastation of his plans. There was nothing good to report; there was no hope that he could see. He’d attempted to put an optimistic spin on the debriefing, but everyone had seen through it. The PM had asked about the deployment of battlefield nukes, and the fact that even the leader was considering such extreme action on British soil showed that they were approaching the last act.
‘General?’
He turned to see Manning, who, for once, had not said a single word during the meeting. ‘Catherine.’
‘I notice you left a few details out of your report. How long before the enemy reach Oxford?’
‘I omitted that strand because to consider it would be an admission of failure. We will stop the enemy long before they reach Oxford.’
Manning’s dismissive shrug made the General burn inside, but he maintained his surface calm.
‘Battlefield nuclear weapons? How many are you planning to use?’ she asked. ‘How many have we stockpiled? You suggested that there appears to be a near-endless supply of the enemy… all flooding over from the Otherworld, I presume. Logically-’
‘I don’t concern myself with theoretical arguments. There are several tactical options we haven’t begun to try.’
‘How long, General?’
The General cursed under his breath, realising why he disliked the woman so much. ‘We can’t estimate anything at the moment. The enemy’s advance has come to a halt just south of Berwick. We don’t know how long they’re going to stay there, or why.’
‘But you have an idea.’
The General chose his words carefully. ‘Intelligence suggests that the enemy is eliminating any potential opposition.’
‘So they’re eradicating the population as they advance, pausing, cleansing an area, moving on. Berwick has fallen?’
The General nodded.
‘We can’t rely on conventional means, General. We have to put our faith in other measures.’
‘No option has been ruled out, Catherine.’
The General was distracted by a young assistant from his offices who was trailing snow behind him as he ran towards them. ‘General, sir,’ the young man said breathlessly as he skidded to a halt. ‘There’s been a survivor, sir. From the rout, in Scotland. He’s on his way in by chopper now.’
The General turned back to Manning. ‘I have to go.’
‘Consider what I said, General.’
But the General was already doing his best to forget her, and all politicians, as he followed the assistant back to the Ministry of Defence offices. All he needed was one break, a single flaw in the enemy’s defence, and he would strike back with maximum force. If the survivor had any new intelligence, he would seize it forcefully and then he would show Manning and all the others exactly what he stood for.
Hunter was in much better shape by the time the chopper touched down in the Deer Park. His amazement at the healing ability of the Pendragon Spirit had been superseded by a long period of intense reflection on what it meant for him to have been chosen to receive such a power. In one instant he had been forced to look at himself and his place in the world in a different light. No longer could he pretend that he was just a foot soldier drifting from mission to mission. He now had a purpose, and an obligation, if only he could decide what they were.
The General met him as he climbed down from the chopper. ‘I should have known you’d be back.’
‘Yes, sir, and thank you for your good wishes.’ The General allowed Hunter some latitude as he always did, but Hunter knew he couldn’t push his superior too far this time.
‘I hope you’ve come back with some useful information,’ the General said.
‘I believe so, sir.’
‘We’ll head straight to debriefing. Your men?’
‘All dead.’ Hunter’s stomach twisted at the loss of those under his command. The hardest to accept was Clevis; his uncomprehending face at the moment of his death was burned into Hunter’s mind.
‘You look remarkably hale and hearty. Not even a scratch?’
‘I have very thick skin.’
By the time they reached the debriefing room where most of the top brass had already congregated, Hunter had decided what information he was going to reveal and what he was going to hold back. He described in unflinching detail how the enemy took over the fallen and added them to its ranks, and he watched as faces grew steely when he described the King of Insects and the four Lords leading the attack. His account of what was really causing the arctic weather only added to the dark mood in the room. But there was some talk of a potential ally when he told how the White Walker had helped him to the nearest outpost, where he had rested while he made radio contact and waited to be picked up.
But of the Pendragon Spirit and his role as Brother of Dragons, he said not a word.
After the General had given Hunter a day’s leave to recuperate, Hunter slipped quickly away and sought out Hal, who seemed to have transformed his office into an art gallery. Hunter cast his eye over the large and small copies of the same painting and said, ‘It’s a bit late in the day to pretend you have some culture.’
Hal smiled warmly. ‘I was starting to get worried.’
‘I thought I’d trained you better than that.’
Hal suddenly came alive in a manner Hunter hadn’t seen before. ‘I’ve got something to tell you,’ he said, motioning to the pictures pinned all over the walls. ‘I’m investigating an artefact that Brother of Dragons brought back from Cadbury Hill.’
Hunter perked up at this. ‘Go on.’
‘It links to this painting, and then to a monument at some stately home called Shugborough Hall. I don’t know what it all means yet, but I’m sure it’s important.’ He paused, unable to restrain a grin. ‘More than important.’
‘Right.’ Hunter thought intensely for a moment. ‘You’ve got to keep me up to speed about that. But don’t tell anyone else before you tell me.’
‘Why?’
‘We’ve discussed this. I know best,’ Hunter replied. Hal shook his head wearily. ‘That Brother of Dragons… Mallory. He’s still around? They’ve not carted him off to some arse-end of the country for interrogation?’
‘He was shot.’
Hunter grew grave. ‘Dead?’
‘They thought so, at first. Last I heard he was in surgery in the high-security section. They’re fighting to save his life.’
‘Bloody hell. They couldn’t even take him out of security when he’s at death’s door. They must be scared of him.’
‘What’s all this about?’ Hal said with exasperation. ‘Did you bang your head while you were out playing soldiers?’
‘I’ve got something to tell you. But you have to swear you won’t tell anyone.’
‘Of course. Nothing would induce me to pass on the contents of your sleazy mind.’
‘I’m serious. OK, you might not believe this… in fact, I can guarantee you won’t. I’m a Brother of Dragons.’
The blood drained from Hal’s face so rapidly that Hunter was concerned for his friend’s health. ‘It’s not the end of the world, ma
te. You’d better sit down. The way I see it, it’s a good thing.’
Hal listened while Hunter related all he had learned from the White Walker. ‘So I’ve got this… power in me called the Pendragon Spirit,’ he said finally. ‘If you could have seen how I healed. Bloody hell, I looked like I’d been tossed around an abattoir after the battle. Now I’m back to my fantastically attractive former self.’
‘What else does it do?’
Hunter was concerned at the intensity he saw in Hal; his friend looked as if he was close to desperation. ‘I haven’t worked that out yet, but I reckon there’s some kind of bond between the Five. I know I felt something when I met Mallory, like we had a lot in common, as if I’d known him for years. I need to talk to him again. Decide what to do.’
‘You’re not going to report this?’
‘What, and have them lock me up like him? No chance. The bottom line is, everybody reckons the Brothers and Sisters of Dragons are the last hope we’ve got for surviving this nightmare. And having seen what happened in Scotland, I haven’t got any faith in the conventional force’s ability to hold the line. I have to do something.’
‘What can you possibly do? Whatever this Pendragon Spirit is, it doesn’t make you some kind of superhero. You go up against the enemy and you’ll be dead in a minute.’ Hal’s voice was filled with tension.
‘I don’t know what I can do, but I do know I’ve got a responsibility to do something.’ Hunter watched Hal’s face fall and added, ‘Don’t worry, I’m not going to go on some suicide mission. I need to find the rest of the Five-’
‘But one of them’s already dead. You know that.’
‘Yeah, but I’ve got a plan.’ Hunter gave a theatrical smile, but when Hal didn’t respond Hunter said, ‘What’s wrong?’
Hal thought for a moment, then said, ‘I’m scared.’
‘Don’t be. I’m going to do my damnedest to find a way out of this. And now I feel as if I’ve got some kind of chance. There’s a reason I am what I am. If it was all hopeless, there wouldn’t be Brothers and Sisters of Dragons, would there?’
Before Hal could answer, Samantha burst in. ‘I heard you were back.’ Her smile said more than her words.
There was an awkward moment between the two of them. Hal pretended to shuffle through some papers on his desk until Hunter said, ‘So… do you fancy a quick one?’
Hunter saw Hal flinch at the inappropriateness of the comment, while the warmth drained quickly from Samantha’s face. ‘You really are a disgusting pig. I just came to welcome you back and now that I’ve done it, I’m going.’
Even after Samantha had departed, her frostiness still hung in the air. Hal said with exasperation, ‘Why do you do that?’
‘Do what?’
‘You know, Hunter. Act like a moron.’
‘It’s my nature.’ Hunter was not oblivious to the offence he had caused; in fact, he had chosen his words carefully, playing a part that would not raise any suspicion. It also had the effect of keeping Samantha at arm’s length; Hunter knew very clearly what was to come, and suspected the eventual outcome, and it seemed uncommonly cruel to let Samantha think he might be coming back to her. No fairy-tale romance for him.
‘Things are going to change very quickly and I need you to watch my back,’ Hunter said.
‘Change, how? I don’t like change.’
‘I know. Every file in its place. But if we don’t shake things up quickly there’s not going to be any files left to file.’
‘All right,’ Hal said hesitantly. ‘What do you want me to do?’
‘I might have to go AWOL for a while-’
‘You’re mad! They’ll have you shot!’
‘Only if they catch me. I want you to keep your ear to the ground. If they start getting a lead on me while I’m away, do whatever you can to muddy the tracks. I know it’s dangerous-’
‘Of course I’ll do it. You shouldn’t have to ask. But where are you going?’
‘I don’t know yet. I don’t know if I stand a chance of finding what I’m looking for — better men than me have failed. I might be going on a fool’s errand. But I have to try. It feels like… duty.’
Hal dipped into a drawer and pulled out the file of notes Samantha had passed on to him.
‘What’s that?’ Hunter asked.
‘Everything we know about the Brothers and Sisters of Dragons. Might be some use. You’d better thank Samantha for it the next time you see her. She did the dangerous work.’
Hunter felt a critical mass building. Soon events would be running away from him and he would have to use everything in his power to keep up. He worried about compromising Hal’s position — the Government would not flinch from taking harsh action if it saw disloyalty or treason. But he was convinced that Hal had the strength of character to see it through, even though he knew his friend didn’t recognise that strength in himself.
Hunter and Hal shuffled around each other awkwardly before Hunter clapped his friend on the shoulder. The gesture didn’t begin to match their strength of feeling, but they knew each other well enough to comprehend all that was unspoken.
‘Look after yourself,’ Hunter said. And then he slipped out of the door, and with a wink he was gone.
Mallory came to consciousness in the room set aside as an intensive care unit. He was numb from the drugs and strung out from the pain of his wounds and the operation, but still the haunting death image played with his mind. Fire in the dark. It might have been the drugs, or his nearness to death, but now he knew what it was: a gunshot to the head. Suicide. But if he’d killed himself, how could he still be there?
With an effort, he thought through this cloying barrier to the surprising realisation that his plan had worked. Deep inside him, the Pendragon Spirit was doing its work, knitting flesh, repairing organs.
When he had forced the guards to shoot him, Mallory hadn’t known if his injuries would be beyond his healing ability. He had long been aware that minor cuts and bruises faded fast, that he fought off colds and viruses easily, that exhaustion came much later than it would to anyone else. But could major organ damage be repaired, and could it happen quickly enough for him to see his plan through?
As he sat up, pulling off wires to the monitors and removing a drip, he was forced to acknowledge how bad he felt. But he still had more strength than he should have in the circumstances. Though the next few hours would probably be agony — with the prospect of causing himself even more serious harm — he felt he probably had enough strength to see it through.
His vision washed back and forth drunkenly. Shakily, he lowered his legs to the floor, convinced they’d buckle under him. After a few seconds’ rest he managed to stand up, but then some stitches pulled on his abdomen and warm blood seeped into the bandages bound tightly around his middle.
Yet the more he moved, the more strength flowed into his limbs, as if the act of fighting made the Pendragon Spirit come alive. With an effort of will, Mallory forced his pain into the background and proceeded slowly to the door.
The corridor was empty, but Mallory knew it wouldn’t be long before he encountered some resistance. His footsteps echoed softly along the starkly lit passage, but as he rounded a bend he noticed something curious: the lights had grown dimmer. With a shiver, he realised that the temperature had also dropped several degrees and that he could now see his breath.
He advanced uneasily, for there was no obvious explanation for the changes. Peering around the next corner, Mallory saw a lone guard standing outside a door white with hoarfrost. It was from here that the cold was emanating and in the vicinity of the door there was a deep, suffocating gloom. The guard wore arctic fatigues, thick gloves and boots, a parka with the hood up and a scarf wrapped across his mouth. From the measured rise and fall of his chest, Mallory could tell he was either asleep or close to it.
Mallory weighed his options. It was a long way back to attempt to find another route out, but the chances of any path being free of resistance was slim
. Yet he knew he still wasn’t up to any hand-to-hand fighting, even if he could get close enough to commence it.
Before he could make his decision, he was grabbed from behind and pulled back up the corridor, a hand clamped across his mouth to prevent him from making any noise. Then Hunter stood before him, one finger pressed to his lips.
Mallory couldn’t understand why Hunter hadn’t raised the alarm, but he didn’t have the strength to resist. Hunter pulled him through an open door and into a darkened, empty cell.
‘What do you think you’re doing?’ Hunter said in an attempt at mockery, though he was clearly impressed. ‘You’re dead on your feet and you’re about to take on the British Army.’
‘Come closer. I’ll show you what dead means.’
‘Big talk. But now that we’ve got the macho posturing out of the way, we need to discuss something of importance.’
‘I don’t want to talk to you.’
‘You’ll talk to me because you and I are cut from the same cloth.’
Mallory instantly saw in Hunter’s eyes the unimpeachable truth of that statement. That single moment of contact between the two men ran so deep that it changed both of them for ever. ‘What do you mean?’
‘I’m a Brother of Dragons.’
‘No.’ Mallory knew his denial was a lie the instant the word left his lips; a veil had been lifted and he could suddenly see Hunter as he truly was. It was all there — Mallory could almost feel the Pendragon Spirit radiating out of Hunter, like a dull heat.
‘Sorry,’ Hunter said. ‘Looks like they let anybody in the club.’
After his exertions, Mallory suddenly felt profoundly weak and had to lower himself into a chair.
‘I know it sounds like a coincidence-’
‘There aren’t any coincidences.’ Mallory took a deep breath to steady himself. ‘The Pendragon Spirit, the Blue Fire — call it what you will — it runs through everything. It’s the structure behind the surface of the universe. It arranges things.’
‘So it made sure I was in the right place at the right time. Or wrong time, depending on which way you look at it.’
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