“I know!” Adam said with feeling. Then his face crumpled with pain. “If I weren’t so—owww, that stings!—confident in my talents with a sword, I’d have quite a complex from this. First Frankie and then Theobold.”
The matron finished binding cloth around Adam’s middle and brought him a patient’s gown.
“Ugh, no!” Adam protested. “I’ll wear my shirt.”
“Your shirt’s got a great bloody hole through the side,” Henry reminded him.
“Exactly,” Adam said. “It’s rather heroic.”
Henry helped Adam put on the shirt. It was rather heroic, he had to admit.
“You need to rest,” the sick matron told Adam. “And your friend needs to leave.”
Henry pretended to gather his things, and Adam pulled up the thin sheet and pretended to go to sleep.
Satisfied, the sick matron went into her office and shut the door.
“She’s gone,” Adam said, opening one eye.
“Finally.”
Henry unfastened the neck of his fencing kit and briefly debated whether he should mention that Adam hadn’t been meant to fence Theobold.
“Bloody Valmont,” Adam said. “Did you see his face when he helped bring me here? He was as white as this scratchy, horrible sheet, and he couldn’t say a word for the life of him.”
“I noticed,” Henry said. “But this is really bad. Even for Valmont. I mean, you could have died.”
“Have a bit more faith in my fencing talent, Grim,” Adam said, and then put a hand to his bandaged side. “Against Valmont, maybe. Against Rohan, perhaps. But Theobold? It was a lucky hit.”
“I suppose,” Henry said, still wondering why Valmont had insisted they switch fencing partners. Henry wanted so badly to blame Valmont for everything, but it didn’t add up. He was missing something.
Adam grimaced.
“What?” Henry asked. “Would you like me to fetch the sick matron?”
“Actually,” Adam said, a bit embarrassed, “there’s probably sandwiches right now.”
Henry glanced at the clock. Trust Adam to always know when it was time to eat. “Want me to get you one?”
“If it isn’t any trouble,” Adam said. “Turkey and cheese. But no tomatoes. And if they have apples, but make sure it isn’t bruised. And—”
“What?” Henry asked irritably.
“And thank you for staying with me,” Adam finished, and Henry felt ashamed.
“You’re welcome,” Henry said, hand on the doorknob.
“And if there’s anything with chocolate, some of that too,” Adam said.
Henry sighed.
CHECKMATE
Rohan couldn’t concentrate on his homework and, for that matter, neither could Henry.
“She’s just keeping him overnight,” Henry said.
“I know.” Rohan twirled a pencil between his fingers, the sheet of paper on his desk still blank.
“He’s going to be fine,” Henry said.
“I know, but—”
“He could have died. Well, he didn’t. I’d rather not think about it,” Henry said. “I’m going to the common room. Want to come?”
“No, thank you.”
The common room was full. It was getting colder outside, and a fire blazed in the grate. Games of chess and checkers had been set up on every available surface, and boys who were waiting their turns hovered over the tables, watching those who played.
Henry and his friends rarely ventured into the common room, which was undisputedly Theobold’s territory. Valmont and Luther were hunched over a chessboard in the armchairs by the fire, their sleeves pushed up, their attention focused.
Henry glanced at the game. Valmont was winning. Luther played bravely with just his queen, king, two pawns, and a knight remaining. Valmont, missing only three pawns, a castle, and a bishop, was just a few moves away from checkmate. Henry waited on the game, as he wanted to talk to Valmont.
He watched as Valmont, rather than going for the obvious checkmate, drew out the execution of Luther’s king, removing first the two pawns, then the knight, and then finally ending it.
“Good game,” Luther said chivalrously, standing up.
Valmont yawned. “It was a bore for me,” he said. “But then, it’s not as though anyone can match my skill.”
“Is that so?” Henry asked, with just the hint of a smile.
“This is a chessboard, servant boy,” Valmont said, as though Henry were quite deaf. “You use it to play chess.”
“Well, maybe that’s how you use it. I use it to beat you at chess,” Henry returned.
“You’re on.”
Valmont began putting the pieces back in their positions, and Henry helped.
“I’ll play white,” Valmont declared, and Henry took the seat across from him, in front of the black pieces.
Valmont shot a pawn out two spaces, and Henry calmly considered how he wanted to win. Feign losing and then go in for the unexpected kill? Swiftly and suddenly? Laboriously? Should Valmont believe they were equally matched? There were so many possibilities, because Henry was excellent at chess. He’d learned it as a boy from the orphanage priest, playing games between lessons.
Henry chose the move Valmont would be most likely to expect, blocking his pawn.
“So,” Henry said. “Adam’s still in the sick bay.”
“Really?” Valmont asked, eyes scanning the board. “Is he going to be— I mean, who cares? Your move.”
Henry took one of Valmont’s pawns.
“He’s going to be fine,” Henry said.
“Did I ask?” Valmont retorted, a finger on the pawn that Henry wanted him to move.
“You can’t hate all of us that much,” Henry said, capturing the pawn the moment Valmont moved it.
Valmont scowled. “No, I don’t,” he admitted, “just you.”
Henry puzzled over this as they played in silence for a few minutes, glaring down at the black and white spaces. Why would Valmont target Adam and Rohan if he had it in for Henry especially? At first, Henry had been certain that Valmont was the one behind the increasingly more dangerous acts of sabotage, but now he was unconvinced.
Henry forced his attention back to the board. He let Valmont take his castle—in exchange for Valmont’s queen.
“I know it was you,” Valmont said suddenly.
“What was me?”
“The plaster.”
“You deserved it,” Henry said.
“Who are you to judge what anyone deserves?” Valmont asked.
Henry slammed his bishop down.
“Check,” Henry said.
Valmont scowled and again made the move that Henry anticipated.
“You know,” Henry continued, “I wanted to ask you why you swapped with Theobold today to fence against me. And it’s check again, by the way.”
“You’re the one who swapped with Jewish boy,” Valmont said.
“Because you wanted to.”
“No,” Valmont said.
“Check,” Henry said disgustedly. “And yes, you did. You wanted to have a go against me, and if it weren’t for that, I’d be the one gutted with Theobold’s sword.”
“Pity you weren’t,” Valmont sneered, moving his king back a space. “Are you accusing me of something, Grim?”
Not anymore, Henry thought, picking up his queen, fighting to keep his face expressionless.
“Not at all,” said Henry. “I am merely thanking you for saving me from the hassle of having a sword run through my side. I’m sorry I couldn’t return the favor by sparing your king. Checkmate.”
Valmont stared down at the board in shock. “That’s impossible.”
“We took the same exam, Valmont,” Henry said, giving Valmont back his captured pieces. “I scored higher. Why are you so surprised when I beat you at things?”
“Because you’re a bloody servant!” Valmont roared.
The common room quieted as everyone turned to stare.
“And you’re a bloody
sore loser!” Henry retorted, stomping back to his room.
Adam was back the next morning, and woefully unprepared for military history.
“I made sure you had your books when I brought the sandwiches,” Henry accused.
Adam shrugged. “I thought Havelock would go easy on me, considering.”
“You’re joking,” Rohan said. “If you’d lost a leg, Lord Havelock would still expect both of your boots to be shined.”
Henry laughed.
“What are you so cheerful about?” Rohan asked.
Rohan had fallen asleep early the night before, but he was looking a lot better that morning, much to Henry’s relief.
“I beat Valmont at chess last night in the common room,” Henry said.
“Since when do you spend time in the common room?” Adam asked.
Henry shrugged. And then Valmont passed them in the hall on the way to languages. “Checkmate!” Henry called after him.
Adam chuckled, and then put a hand to his side, wincing.
“Avez-vous vue Frankie?” Henry asked his friends in languages, while they were supposed to be having a conversation about supper.
“What?” Adam asked, and then, receiving a glare from Professor Lingua, said, “I mean, pardon?”
Have you seen Frankie around? Henry wrote on a piece of paper.
Rohan shook his head and announced in rather tortured French that he preferred his steaks rare, thank you.
That was strange, Henry thought. Frankie would have heard about Adam. The whole school had heard. But she hadn’t come by the night before. Or caught up with them after chapel.
“Non, monsieur, j’ai dit que j’aime le mieux les legumes vert,” Henry said with a sigh.
“Show off,” Adam muttered.
“En français, Monsieur Beckerman!” Professor Lingua shrilled.
“Je suis malade!” Adam protested. “I’m ill!”
“That’s the best I’ve heard you speak French all year,” muttered Henry.
Rohan tried very hard not to laugh.
Something itched at the back of Henry’s mind throughout languages, a thought that he could not quite reach. And as much as he tried to ignore it, the itch commanded attention, until at last Henry grasped upon what was bothering him: the unblunted sword hadn’t been meant for Adam. It had been intended for him. And as it was seeming more and more that Valmont wasn’t the one behind everything, if perhaps the mastermind of these horrible accidents hadn’t yet heard that Adam had been the one injured yesterday, Adam’s intended “accident” could be waiting for him around any corner.
No, the thought was preposterous. Henry tried to dismiss it, but kept coming back to the idea: someone was sabotaging them. Someone who—as much as he hated to admit it—wasn’t Valmont. And it wasn’t just creepy letters anymore. Who knew what might happen next?
Henry was so shaken by the realization that he mentioned it to his friends after languages.
“I dunno about that, mate,” Adam said. “Who would be targeting us?”
“Hmmm, how about Lord Havelock?” Henry asked, realizing how ridiculous it sounded.
“He’s certainly horrible and elitist,” Rohan said, “not to mention a terrible professor. But I don’t think he’s capable of doing these things. I mean, you said it yourself yesterday, Adam could have died.” Rohan paused, and then, as though he didn’t want to admit it, said, “I could have died, with the nuts.”
Henry had rather suspected Rohan’s allergy was much worse than he’d been pretending. But that wasn’t the point. Rohan was right. There was no reason for Lord Havelock to sabotage them.
“I suppose you’re right,” Henry admitted.
“If Lord Havelock wanted us kicked out, all he’d have to do was open our door one night and find Frankie in our room,” Rohan said severely.
“Fine,” Henry said. “I’ll make certain Frankie knows the room is off-limits from now on.”
“Thank you,” Rohan said.
“Just be careful, all right?” Henry urged Adam.
“But why me?” Adam whined. “If anyone’s left unscathed, it’s you.”
Henry and Rohan exchanged a look, and Henry realized that Adam still hadn’t figured it out.
Wishing he didn’t have to speak the words, Henry said, “That sword was meant for me.”
“What?” Adam asked, stopping in the middle of the second-floor hallway, beneath the creepy tapestry depicting a unicorn ramming its blood-soaked horn into a dark-helmeted knight.
“Valmont asked to swap,” Henry said. “I was supposed to fence against Theobold, but we switched.”
“That’s right,” Adam said, shocked. “I hadn’t thought about it, but we did swap partners. And, no offense, but Theobold’s an equal match for you.”
“None taken,” Henry said. “Wait, you’re not upset?”
“Why would I be upset?” Adam asked. “Blimey, that tapestry is creepy. Anyway, it’s not as though anyone knew about Theobold’s foil. Besides which, he scored a lucky hit on me. He really could have killed you. No offense.”
“None taken,” Henry said sourly, and then sighed, raking his fingers through his already mussed hair. “In any case, we’re still missing the most important questions: why are these things happening, and who’s behind them?”
“Maybe Frankie knows something that we don’t,” Adam said.
“Maybe,” Henry conceded.
They’d begun to walk back to their room, as much to get away from the ghastly tapestry as anything.
“We could go see her,” Rohan said as though someone had prodded him with the tip of their pencil to make him say it.
“Good idea,” Adam said brightly.
“Seriously, Adam, you’ll watch yourself ?” Henry pressed.
“Nothing’s going to happen,” Adam snapped.
And then he opened the door to their room and everyone gasped.
Their room had been ransacked.
Drawers gaped open from the dresser, their contents rifled through and strewn everywhere. Rohan’s trunk was tipped on its side, and the three mattresses lay askew, as though someone had searched beneath them for hidden valuables.
Adam cursed.
Rohan, his lips pressed together in a thin, angry line, got to his knees and rummaged through his trunk to see what had been taken.
Henry, who didn’t own anything valuable anyway, made a halfhearted inventory of his things. His textbooks, spare clothing, and small amount of coins were all there.
“Anyone missing anything?” Henry asked.
“Nothing,” Rohan said, dusting off the knees of his trousers. “And I can’t imagine what they were looking for. My money’s untouched, and my spare pocket watch and father’s books are still here.”
“Adam?” Henry asked.
Adam sat on his bed, a strange look on his face.
“What?” Henry asked.
Adam shook his head. “It was under the mattress,” he mumbled.
“What was under the mattress?” Rohan asked.
“I never should have taken it off,” Adam wailed. “Stupid, stupid Valmont. I let him get to me, calling me Jewish boy. And now my father’s going to kill me.”
“Adam!” Henry said sharply. “What are you going on about?”
“My necklace,” Adam said miserably.
“Right,” Henry said, remembering. “I’d nearly forgotten about that. What was it, again?”
“My chai,” Adam said, and then, noticing his friends’ blank looks, explained. “It’s a Jewish thing. We become men at thirteen, and my father gave it to me at my bar mitzvah ceremony. It had belonged to his father before him, and his father before him, all the way back to Bohemia or someplace. It’s a Star of David with the symbol of life on top. Solid gold on a gold chain. And I took it off.”
Adam put his head in his hands.
“I’m really sorry,” Henry said, sitting down on the bed beside Adam. “But you’re certain it’s not here?”
“It was
under the mattress,” Adam said. “I felt for it every night to make sure.”
Henry felt horrible for Adam. He didn’t know how Adam did it, walking around with his head held high every day despite wearing the yarmulke that set him apart. Or sitting silently through chapel each morning, watching as everyone else recited the prayers they’d known by heart since they were small. No wonder Adam had taken off his necklace.
“Don’t worry,” Henry said with more confidence than he felt. “We’ll get it back.”
“Unless someone’s melted it,” Adam said with anguish.
“No one’s melted it,” Henry said with a severe look at Rohan, daring him to say differently.
“We could have another made,” Rohan offered. “I’ll pay for it.”
“That’s not the point,” Adam said, glaring.
“It was just an offer,” Rohan said angrily.
“Stop!” Henry said. “Look, we’ve got to decide what to do. This isn’t just about Adam’s necklace. Someone’s come into our room and gone through our things. That’s really wrong. We should tell our head of year.”
“We’re not going to Lord Havelock,” Adam said. “Absolutely not. He’s Valmont’s uncle, in case you’ve forgotten.”
“We could tell the headmaster,” Rohan suggested. “After all, it’s a serious offense. Stealing money is one thing, but family heirlooms?”
“That’s not a bad thought,” Henry said.
“Let’s go now,” Adam said, standing up. “We’ve got more than half our hour free left, and we could tell Frankie first. She’d vouch for us.”
“Yes, because I’m sure Headmaster Winter would be terribly thrilled to know that we’re acquainted with his daughter,” Rohan muttered.
“You coming or not?” Adam asked, grabbing his coat.
“I am,” Henry said.
Rohan knotted his scarf. “Let’s go.”
A maid opened the door of the headmaster’s house and stared at them.
“You’ll be wantin’ Professor Stratford again?” she asked, holding the door open.
Henry knew he hadn’t seen the professor for ages, and so he felt guilty when he said, “Actually, we’re here to see—”
“Frankie!” Adam yelled.
Through the foyer, in the small, rose-colored receiving room, Frankie was bent over a tea service. She turned toward them, a look of horror on her face, and shook her head.
KNIGHTLEY ACADEMY Page 15