“I am your Executioner,” he whispered. “I’ll make it clean and painless,” he promised.
“Thank you!” gulped Tom. “Any chance you’ll miss?”
“I haven’t yet,” smiled the giant. “As gentlemen, you will have your own weapons by your sides as you walk to your doom. Do not try to use them, or your deaths will not be clean.”
As the boys gulped and rubbed their necks nervously, the giant smiled again and winked, “See you tomorrow.”
“You have a few hours out here,” said the guards. They retreated to the steps leading to the stage and sat down.
Tom and Felix were scared but glad to be in the fresh air after their night in the damp room. They walked slowly in circles discussing the Book and how it was going to get them out of here. One small consolation was that they would have their weapons, but they could not see how they could fight their way out of this one. They looked all over the courtyard for the object that was from their time that they could use to get home tomorrow at noon.
A group of women all dressed in black wandered around the space in silence. The lady in the middle of the group wore the magnificent black gowns of a queen.
“That must be Ann Boleyn,” pointed Felix.
“She on before or after us?” asked Tom. The boys laughed as they walked.
They continued their search but found nothing that looked out of place. The few hours went too quickly and the boys were returned to their room where they spent the whole afternoon before taking what they thought may be their last night’s sleep.
The jolly old lady woke them again and provided a tray of meat and bread. They ate more slowly today as they contemplated what the rest of the morning would bring. The guards appeared with a priest who told them to make their peace with God. They knelt in prayer as it seemed like the right thing to do. There was no point in upsetting anyone else. The priest left after informing the boys that he would be accompanying them on their final journey.
“Well that was cheery,” said Tom trying to lighten the mood.
“Not long now, just keep your eyes peeled when we’re out there. I’ve looked in the Book and it still says today at noon in the courtyard,” ordered a fully focused Felix.
“What if I’m looking in the basket?” said Tom. The boys laughed out loud.
At eleven thirty the priest returned. He prayed for the boys and led them from the room. The boys looked smart in their school uniforms. A guard handed them their swords with a bow, and the boys walked blinking into the bright sunlight. The courtyard was packed with rowdy people. Noblemen stood in their finery and commoners threw rotting vegetables at the boys, most of which hit the priest. The executioner stood on the stage in a black hood that hid his face. In his hand was a large axe.
“Keep looking,” whispered Felix.
“Trust me, I am,” replied a worried Tom.
They followed the priest on to the stage. A nobleman appeared from the crowd. He was the master of ceremonies. He asked the boys if they were guilty. They had been told to say yes or their death would be the more gruesome hanging, drawing and quartering. The executioner asked for their forgiveness and went to take Tom’s sabre.
“I would like to die like a warrior with my sword in my hand!” cried Tom. He gave a look of resignation at his friend and bravely knelt next to the block. A tear trickled down Felix’s cheek as he desperately looked for the object from the future.
Tom held out his sabre and waited for the axe to fall. The gathered crowd were like vampires baying for blood. He looked down into the basket where his head was about to land. It looked odd. It was orange on the inside.
“Get your backside and that flaming book over here!” he screamed out. “It’s the basket. There’s a plastic bucket in it.”
Felix swung his sword at the confused guard. The soldier backed away giving him enough time to get the Book and run.
“Hold on to my legs!” he cried as he jumped into the basket.
The axe whooshed through the air towards Tom’s neck. Tom reached out hoping to grab a leg before the basket was put to its usual use. The axe hit the block with an almighty thump.
12
Had he managed it? Felix looked round the vortex in a panic. Nothing! He feared the worst. Felix closed his eyes wondering how he would explain this to Tom’s mother. He started to well up with tears at the loss of his friend.
“You awake?” came the friendly voice.
“What? Where? How?” stuttered Felix.
“Try Looking up!” smiled Tom.
“Thank God!” said Felix. “I thought you’d missed.”
“Just grabbed your hair as you went into the bucket,” said Tom. The pair laughed with relief at their close escape. They travelled silently along the colourful vortex before the usual blank occurred.
They woke up in the History classroom. They were sat at their desks waiting for the History exams to be distributed. They slid the swords back into their guitar cases and opened the exam paper. The same look of panic came over Tom’s face but this time they faced the music and got on with wracking their brains for what little they could remember about the Industrial Revolution. It wasn’t going to take Mr Taylor long to mark their efforts.
It was Friday afternoon and the boys were relieved that their last exam was completed. Felix and Tom kicked the football round the common as usual. Felix seemed to have something on his mind. He wasn’t very good at football at the best of times but today he was really bad.
Worried about Felix, Tom asked, “What’s up?”
“Nothing,” came the unconvincing reply.
“Is it the close shave? Have you had enough?” Tom was worried the Keeper was losing his nerve.
“No it’s not that!” said Felix. “It’s the whole thing with the Book.”
“Seems we haven’t got much choice with that. We’re stuck with it.” Tom had accepted his new role in life as a Guardian.
“I know that,” snapped Felix. “I want to know why it’s here.”
“The Sheriff gave it to you. Before he died the Book named you as the next Keeper,” said a confused Tom.
“No not that,” whispered Felix. “Why is the Book important? Why do the Brethren want it? How long have they been chasing it? How can we end it? Has anyone ever tried to end it? What would happen if I just burned the Book? Why me?” he shouted at Tom, almost in tears.
“Enough with the questions! I don’t know!” boomed Tom. “I know my dad died protecting the Book and you - and that makes it important enough for us to keep it safe,” he barked at Felix.
“I’m sorry,” wept Felix. “I’m just scared.”
The boys smiled at each other and walked on to Felix’s house. His mother greeted them with a friendly smile and their favourite meal: sausage, chips and beans.
Full up and content the boys slumped on the sofa. Felix pulled the Book of Words from his blazer and opened it.
“Why am I the Keeper?” he asked.
‘Figure it out for yourself’ was the unhelpful reply on page two.
“Why is the Book important?” was the next question.
‘Find the answer to your first question and the second will be answered too!’
“Great,” said Felix. “Looks like we’ve got some work to do!”
“Eh?” said Tom. “What work?”
“We need to fig…,” he almost managed to answer but Tom got in the familiar reply from the Book first.
“What do we need to figure out?” asked Tom. He suspected the reply would bring more adventure and more trouble.
13
Felix knocked on Tom’s door early the next morning. He had a day of thinking planned for his friend which he knew would test him. A whole Saturday in the library was a suggestion too far for Tom. They arrived at the library just before it opened. Mrs Saunders the librarian was shocked to see them so early in the morning.
“You should be in bed with all the other teenagers,” she laughed.
“Busy day ahead, l
ots of homework,” said Tom, raising his eyebrows.
They planted themselves at the back of the large book filled room. There was a computer station in the corner hidden by the notice boards. Felix pulled out a large notepad and his pencil case. Tom laughed at the blank expression on Felix’s face.
“Where do we start?” asked Tom.
“Let’s open the Book and see if it can get us going.” Felix was desperate to find answers to all his questions.
“Typical!” said Tom. “I can’t see anything in there, you’ll have to read it to me.”
Felix read the first page which told them where they were, the date and which languages they could speak.
“That’s really useful,” said Tom sarcastically.
“Tom, shut up and think,” said Felix with a frown. Next he read the list of Keepers at the back of the Book.
“Just a load of names who are all dead, except you!” Tom laughed.
“There has to be something for us to go on,” whispered Felix anxiously.
“Just names and dates,” Tom replied.
“That’s it, you’re genius,” smiled Felix. “The dates!”
“Eh?” said a surprised Tom.
“We can go back and visit the Keepers,” said an excited Felix. “We need to think who we want to see and find pictures of them or places at that time.”
“You have to make things complicated,” exclaimed Tom. “Where do we start?”
“Remember, The Sheriff is the longest serving Keeper. We should go and see him,” said Felix.
“There are plenty of photos of him around school,” said Tom. “We can use those.”
“There are lots of interesting names on here but we need to go back to the time of the first Keeper if we are going to learn anything.” Felix smiled.
“Remind me who the first Keeper was again,” said Tom.
“Arthur Pendragon 476 – 542 deceased,” replied Felix.
“He’d be one thousand four hundred and odd years old if he wasn’t deceased!” laughed Tom.
“Go and find a book on him, while I look at the other names,” growled Felix, wanting a couple of minutes to himself.
Felix looked the list up and down for any more clues. He gazed out of the window across the common. He could see the small copse where Tom’s father had given up his life in the battle against the Brethren. That night would remain etched on both of their brains for ever. Felix jumped up and screamed, “Tom, get back here!”
“I’ll throw you out if there’s any more noise Felix Jones!” yelled Mrs Saunders. “Ssshhhhhhhh.”
Tom appeared from the other side of the tatty notice boards. He walked slowly with his mouth open and he was white as a sheet. In his hands was a huge book.
“You’ll never believe this!” he stuttered.
“Never mind that now,” said Felix. “Remember that night?”
“How could I forget it?” said Tom as his eyes glistened with forming tears.
“Remember the old man?” asked Felix.
“The one from the hospital?” said Tom. “He was as mad as a box of frogs, fighting the Brethren in his nightdress!”
“Brave though,” said a thoughtful Felix. “Where did his sword go?” Felix opened the Book and looked at the map.
“If his sword was passed on where is the symbol for that Guardian? I can see only two red swords, yours and Buckley’s,” said Felix. Buckley was the school caretaker whose father had tried to protect the boys on their first encounter with the Brethren.
“Perhaps his son lives miles away,” answered Tom.
“Maybe, but I’m sure he had a grandchild in our school,” said Felix. “We’ll come back to it. What did you find?”
Tom had almost forgotten the Book he had brought back from the many shelves in the library. He opened it up with a huge smile on his face.
“Well, 476 was an interesting time,” he whispered. “The dark ages, where they didn’t keep any records.”
“Great!” exclaimed a disappointed Felix.
“Oh yes, my genius friend. Arthur Pendragon is all over the Books of that time.” For once Tom knew more than his high flying friend.
“Who the hell was he?” Felix was getting annoyed with his smug friend.
“Arthur Pendragon died in 542,” smiled Tom. “He is the most famous person from that time.”
“Just tell me.” Felix screwed up his face to show his impatience.
Tom laughed and blurted out, “He’s King Arthur!”
14
With a bag full of books on King Arthur the boys went to their Saturday evening fencing class. They placed the bag and their guitar cases in a corner. The pair donned their fencing clothing and joined the others in the community centre hall. They went through the ritual of welcoming new members and split into their training sections. In the intermediate lesson a girl who had seemed familiar to the boys kept glancing over.
“She’s after you!” quipped Tom.
“You, more like,” said Felix. “All the girls fancy you.”
They continued their lesson learning how to carry out a ‘corps a corps’, body to body contact during a fight. At the end of the session the boys sat down exhausted. They chatted and wiped themselves down with a towel.
The fencers slowly began filing out. On the far side of the hall sat the girl. She was as tall as Tom, with short, dark hair. She wore tracksuit bottoms and a rugby shirt. She was busy packing a small sports bag, they were surprised to see that she also had a hockey stick in its cover at this time of year. Tom nudged Felix and nodded towards her. Felix went bright red and rushed out of the door. Tom followed his friend laughing as he ran to catch up.
“Not your type?” asked Tom. Felix, embarrassed, remained silent.
The boys walked across the common laden with guitar cases and books on King Arthur. Felix was keen to go home and prepare for his next journey. He didn’t want any surprises and he especially didn’t want to be in any unnecessary danger.
A voice screeched, “Tom! Wait!”
The boys looked back to see the girl running after them.
“Told you!” mockingly whispered Felix.
“That’s all I need, another groupie!” Tom punched his friend on the arm laughing.
“I thought it was you,” she gasped as she caught up with the boys. “I hoped I would see you at the fencing club.”
“Why did you think that?” asked Tom hesitantly.
“I’m a Guardian like you.” Her face beamed with confidence.
Felix got out the Book and looked at the map. There were still only two swords, Tom’s and Buckley’s. He shook his head at Tom.
“No you’re not!” came Tom’s sharp reply.
The girl pulled a sabre identical to Tom’s out of her hockey stick cover and whispered in Tom’s ear, “Yes I am!”
“This isn’t a pantomime,” smiled Felix. “If you’re a Guardian, what are you the Guardian of?”
“The Keeper!” she blurted out at the disbelieving boys.
“Do you know where he is?” Tom asked dismissively.
“That’s why I’ve come to you,” she replied. “I know your father was a Guardian and he died so you took the sword. You can help me find the Keeper who we have to protect.”
“How do you know all this?” Tom boomed at the intruder into their new world.
“My grandfather told me,” she replied, almost in tears.
“Who is he?” asked Tom.
“He’s the one who died with your father!” she screamed.
The boys stood there in stunned silence.
“How are you a Guardian if your grandfather was one? What happened to your father?” Tom enquired more politely. Felix remained quiet as he knew that the girl didn’t have a clue that he was the Keeper.
“He died when I was little,” she muttered quietly. “I’ve got the sword now!”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” said Tom. “But how do we know where the Keeper is?”
“I don’t know,�
�� said the girl, sensing she wasn’t getting anywhere.
“You can’t be a Guardian,” said Tom. “The sword is passed on to the first born son and unless I’m mistaken, you’re a girl!”
“I want to be one. It’s in my blood and you know I can use this,” she said waving the sabre over her head.
“It’s not that straight forward,” said Tom. “It’s dangerous and you have to have the gift.”
“I’ll be a good Guardian but I need you to help me find the Keeper!” she screamed at Tom.
“Never going to happen!” He laughed in the girl’s face.
Tom didn’t have time to think before he blacked out.
15
Tom started to wake up. He couldn’t remember why they were time travelling this time. He couldn’t hear the wind whistling past him and something else was strange. His head ached. It had never done that before in the vortex. He tried desperately to recall events before he had jumped into the picture - but what picture? Confused, he realised he had to open his eyes to see where he and Felix had landed. Felix must be there or he couldn’t have gone on this journey. Only the Keeper can use The Book of Words to time travel.
He slowly sat up and looked around. All he saw was a giggling Felix sat beside him and the girl. What was she doing here? She stood with her arms folded staring straight at him, her face was bright red with anger.
“Where are we?” he asked.
“About 3 yards from where you were last stood,” Felix chortled.
“What? How?” Tom mumbled to himself.
“If she can’t use a sword she’s got one hell of a left hook!” Felix chortled.
“She knocked me out?” Tom whispered to his friend.
“Yep, good and proper!” Felix laughed as he helped Tom to his feet. “You OK mate!”
“Didn’t feel a thing, just faking,” Tom said out of embarrassment.
Felix Jones and The Honour of The Keeper (Felix Jones Adventures Book 2) Page 4