Children of the Fountain

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Children of the Fountain Page 12

by Richard Murphy


  “Blasted pony bolted and threw me!”

  “That’s not all it did,” said Matthias.

  “Can we stick to the matter in hand, please?” said Harry.

  “Of course.” But Matthias let Sophie know with a quick wink he’d share the rest of Harry’s misfortune with her later.

  “I was walking past the stables last night on my way back,” he continued, “when I saw a new coach. A big metal coach with an iron door.”

  “A prison coach?” said Sophie. “They must be taking Nunez on somewhere else.”

  Harry shrugged, “So what’s the plan?” Children were starting to leave for lessons and it was getting empty in the mustering hall.

  “I’m not going to break into the prison,” said Matthias. “It’s too hard. You were right; I’d never get past the guards.”

  “You’re going to hide in the prison coach,” said Sophie.

  He nodded and pointed at Harry. “But I need you to show me how.”

  Sophie now too turned her gaze to their friend. Harry’s eyes narrowed as he digested what had been said. His fingers drummed on the table and he scratched his chin.

  “You want to hide in the coach so that when he’s put in you’re not seen? Then, I’m assuming, when you’re safely away from the castle on the open road you’ll kill him? Finally, the tough part – you’ll need to get out of the prison coach. Did I miss anything?”

  “No,” said Matthias.

  Harry thought for what seemed like minutes before finally answering. “It may be possible. Let’s go and take a look at the coach.”

  The three friends got up from the table and made their way outside towards the castle’s stables. The journey took several minutes as not only was the building on the opposite side, but all the corridors were filled with the usual morning mixture of students and teachers hurrying and barging to get to where they were supposed to be.

  Eventually, they got to the courtyard and as they rounded the corner all three looked up at the enormous and decorative structure. The stables were almost as ancient as the castle itself which some say was hundreds of years old. However, they were of a different construction and had clearly been added on later. Great white stone soared upwards and pillars surrounded the two giant doors at either end. Crows sat idly on top staring downwards and letting out the occasional squawk as the wind ruffled their feathers.

  The door was open and the three headed towards it; trying to blend in with the other children crossing the courtyard. Inside, the palatial roof stretched back above dozens of stalls extended down each side. Each one had a door that split in two across the middle allowing a hatch through which the animals could be looked after.

  “Looks like there’s a class out on the ponies,” said Harry, as the three nosed through the empty compartments.

  It was true, there didn’t seem to be a soul around. Harry popped his head around one door, looked inside and reappeared quickly. "The tack room is empty so I guess Joe the stable master is gone too.”

  “Where was the coach?” said Sophie.

  Matthias pointed to the other end of the great building where another giant door was sealed shut from within. “I saw them wheel it in that end.” The three made their way there, passing more stalls and rooms full of feed and equipment.

  As they reached the end they found a large chamber. In it was the carriage and it was Harry who spotted the tracks on the cobbled floor where dirt and wet had been brought in on the wheels of the giant metal box.

  The three approached softly. Harry was first to reach the contraption. It stood at least as tall as two men and the limbers stretched forward enough for six horses to pull it. The monstrous wagon was not only strong, but fast.

  The door was solid metal with a small grill so the prisoner could be viewed within. It was open and Harry pulled it wide before peering in. Sophie and Matthias stepped closer to take a look. Inside was a single wooden bench attached to the side and nothing else. The metal cell was designed not for comfort, but security. It was square but with a high roof on top of which were seats for the guards and driver.

  “There’s your spot,” said Harry, pointing upwards. Matthias followed his gaze to the dark alcove about five feet above the bench. There a large ledge, presumably for storage and his eyes traced along the wall downwards to an iron ring on the floor; for the prisoners shackles.

  “The roof?” said Matthias.

  “No,” said Harry, “the shelf. Watch.” He leapt inside and spreading his arms and legs hoisted himself up to the top. As he reached it he stretched himself out further using the walls for purchase and finally came to rest flat against the ledge. With a foot in each of the front corners and an arm held against one of the other two he was hardly visible to the naked eye as the cell itself was enveloped in darkness.

  “I don’t know,” said Matthias, “I can still see you.”

  “I’ll blacken your face with soot and lend you some of my gear. You’ll blend in like a shadow.”

  Sophie looked impressed. “You wouldn’t need to stay there long. As soon as they shut the door and you were on the road you could do it. Then it’s just a matter of getting out.” She smiled to herself, paused for thought and then slammed the door shut.

  The bang made Matthias jump and Harry yelp with surprise. There was a loud clatter which sounded much like Harry hitting the floor of the cell via the bench.

  Sophie pressed her ear up against the door and swung down the bolt outside. “Can you get out?” she shouted, through the grill.

  Harry’s flustered face appeared moments later. “That was unnecessary,” he said.

  Matthias held back laughter as Harry looked with contempt at Sophie through the bars. He rattled the door and looked carefully at the iron rods before disappearing beneath the hatch. There was a loud crack and then a metallic click and amazingly the door swung open. Harry stepped out onto the footstep putting something that looked like a blunt, flat knife back inside his jacket.

  He looked smugly at Sophie and turned to point at the door. “There’s a small gap between the door frame and the lock lever at the bottom.” Matthias popped his head into the carriage and looked down.

  “Underneath the hinges - here.” Harry indicated a small hole in the wooden door just beneath the black iron casing.

  “If you can push up hard enough it’ll unlock the door from within. I’ve seen this kind before.” Harry looked oblivious to the implications of what he had just said but Matthias had to ask.

  “You’ve been in one?” he said.

  “Just the once.”

  He and Sophie waited in anticipation of the story but were cut short by the sound of approaching footsteps echoing towards them.

  Two figures cast a shadow on the far wall as daylight stretched down the length of the stables around them. There was no time to hide so the only option was to try and not look guilty. They relaxed slightly when the scowling figure of Gerard and his friend Evan turned the corner.

  “What’s going on?” he said. The boy’s face was a permanent scowl and Matthias had been trying to avoid him since the fight. His friend Evan’s weasel-like features were a permanent sneer and his greasy black hair lay flat across his forehead. He was wiry and thin but was known to be quick with a blade.

  “I don’t think Mr Hardy would like to know you’ve been sniffing around here,” said Evan, in a raspy voice. His bright green eyes looked at Sophie in a way that made Matthias’s stomach turn. She looked back at him, her own eyes widening.

  Gerard strode forward towards the nearest of the three, Harry, who was perched on the steps of the carriage. “You’ve no business here. Get out before I report you.”

  “Report you?” Harry scoffed.

  “Yes, report. I’m on watch duty for three months.”

  “Ah, so that was your punishment. It’s a shame it wasn’t shovelling dung.” Harry kicked at some straw on the floor, sending it onto Gerard’s boots as he stood up.

  Gerard stepped forward, enraged. �
��If you want to make a fight of this then I’m more than happy.” He put one hand on the knife on his belt, to his side, Matthias saw Evan do the same.

  “Don’t!” warned Matthias, catching Harry’s eye. Although angry, he realised there was a greater quarry. All they had to do was leave and they would arise no suspicion. But then, he saw Harry inhale and puff up his chest squaring up to Gerard. Whether through wanting to prove a point or protecting his pride in front of his friends, Harry was about to cause trouble.

  “Harry,” said Matthias, stepping forward and positioning himself between the two. “Please?” His eyes begged. He turned to face Gerard. “We were just looking.”

  The thug scoffed and looked down at him. He stepped closer, purposefully head to head; so close that Matthias could smell the sweat coming from his shirt.

  “You come here uneducated, untrained and ill-mannered and think to join us? We don’t want you.”

  “Get lost, Gerard,” said Harry, from behind. The brute pushed forward into Matthias who somehow managed to block him.

  “Harry, go!” he said, turning to his friend. “Meet me back at the dorm.”

  “What?” said Harry, taking a step back from the affray. “Don’t you want to teach him a lesson?”

  At this Gerard roared and shoved Matthias aside to get to Harry who promptly darted behind the coach and disappeared.

  “Harry,” shouted Sophie, “there are more important things than this.”

  Gerard began circling the coach. He snarled as he checked under the wheels and round the back. Confused he appeared from the other side and looked up only to see Harry sitting on top of the vehicle smiling.

  “Harry!” shouted Matthias, and this time the boy stopped smiling and looked down at his friend’s face. “Please, let’s go!”

  Harry nodded glumly and slid down off the black metal roof landing like a cat in front of Gerard. The two boys squared up to each other one final time before Matthias finally dragged his comrade away. Sophie followed too, but Gerard and Evan remained behind watching them leave. Suspicious of what they had been up to the two boys turned their attention to the coach. The three friends hurried back through the stables and burst outside.

  “We don’t need that kind of attention, Harry!” Sophie gave him an elbow in the ribs to make her point. “Now Gerard is going to be wondering what we were up to!”

  “Relax, he doesn’t know anything.”

  The clock struck nine signalling it was time for their lessons. Matthias had another session with Lady Taylor for which he was already late; and lateness wouldn’t be tolerated.

  Harry stretched and muttered something about making his way to the firing range and Sophie said she would be in the library. The three parted company and arranged to meet that night. The final part of their plan was still missing though. Now they knew where but they didn’t know when. How could they find out when would Balthazar Nunez would be leaving the castle?

  Chapter 17

  Matthias noticed the morning drag with Lady Taylor. Although he usually found the woman such enchanting company, today all he could think about was Nunez.

  The elegant lady sat at the table opposite him in her chamber where they were practising a formal meal amidst the rich shower of rugs, tapestries and cushions. The gold silks and white laces of her dress ruffled and whispered as she leaned forward in her seat to eat her meal, pecking at it rather like some delicate bird.

  Matthias looked down at the knife and fork before him as if they were some strange objects from a foreign land. He poked the fork at a slice of veal on the plate and brought the knife around in a slow and delicate cutting motion as he had been instructed. Luckily he wasn’t hungry as it was slow progress.

  They were interrupted by Lady Taylor’s servant knocking at the door. He entered with a small silver plate upon which there was a sealed letter. She thanked the man with the softest of smiles and her golden hair rippled like waves as she looked down to read it.

  She broke the wax seal and Matthias noted that once finished, she re-read it and this time followed the words on the paper softy with her lips. When she returned back to the meal her eyes were flat and lifeless.

  “I am so sorry but you must excuse me. I have to leave immediately. Thank you for your time today.”

  She stood up and Matthias immediately raised himself from his seat. She turned and gathered her gowns behind her as she left the room. On her way she threw the letter into the fireplace. Or at least she attempted to. In her haste she didn’t notice it bounce off the side of a lump of coal and float underneath the grate. Matthias waited until he was sure he was alone before he picked it up to read.

  My Lady,

  Your brother Balthazar leaves these walls tomorrow at sunrise. Now would be a good time for you to say farewell.

  Mr Hardy.

  He re-read the letter. His eyes moved to the door where the woman had just vanished and he breathed deeply. Lady Taylor was Balthazar Nunez’s sister?

  He looked at the signature of Mr Hardy noting the way he curled the last letter of his surname. There was no doubt the handwriting was his; he’d seen the signature on many a report. He threw the letter into the fire and hurried out of the chamber heading straight back to his room. Dashing past a confused Harry, who managed a greeting, he ignored it and opened the trunk at the end of his bed. Underneath various kit and weapons he found the books he had taken from his uncle’s study.

  There at the top was the Nunez family chronicle. He opened it and turned straight to the family tree which had only ever really contained one name for him. This time he looked along the branch at the man’s siblings. There she was. Maria Nunez; born 1547. His older sister!

  Next to her name was another; that of her husband, Frederick Taylor. Born 1544 died 1572. They were married in 1568. She was a widow! Matthias sat on the end of his bed with a soft thud as he tried to make sense of the facts.

  So there was a Nunez amongst them. Teaching them! How could these people be sworn enemies? He had half-forgotten Harry was even there when his friend asked him what was the matter.

  “Go fetch Sophie. She needs to hear this.”

  Confused, Harry nodded and darted out of the room. Whilst he was gone Matthias contemplated what the reaction would be to him taking this man’s life. He was so fond of Lady Taylor, but this felt like a betrayal. How come Mr Hardy hadn’t mentioned it? How certain could they be of where her allegiances lay? Maybe she was a spy?

  Sophie arrived after being dragged from her chemistry, a flask of some foul liquid still in her hand.

  “This had better be important,” she said, “I was in the middle of researching something which may help your plan.”

  The three sat down and Matthias told them of the note but didn’t mention the books of Father Morant as he had still not told them who his own father was.

  “I can’t believe it!” said Harry. “A Nunez here, in the castle? Right under our noses!”

  Sophie shook her head. “Mr Hardy is obviously aware of who she is. He must trust her. Perhaps she has no fondness for the Legion’s work either?”

  “No matter,” said Matthias, “this letter tells us he leaves tomorrow. We must act tonight.”

  “Agreed,” said Sophie, and with that she decided to tell them what she had been researching; but when she enlightened them the two boys shrugged.

  “Flash powder?” said Matthias, “I’ve never heard of it.”

  “Nor should you have. Its exact formula is a very well-kept secret.” Sophie reached inside her leather satchel and produced a tattered dusty book. The letters on the front looked like none Matthias or Harry had ever seen before.

  “It comes from Arabia,” she continued. “Its chemical formula, in essence, is very similar to gunpowder except more volatile. It can be ignited kinetically.”

  Matthias and Harry stared at each other blankly. Sophie sighed and gave a sideward grimace. “I mean you can explode it just by throwing it. You won’t need a pistol or rifle.”


  Matthias sat up. “I can use it on Nunez?”

  “Yes and no,” said Sophie, confusing the two boys even further. “Flash powder was the creation of the Hashshashin.”

  “Who are they?” said Harry.

  “They were a secret society of assassins from Arabia who were created around the time of the crusades hundreds of years ago. Some say they are still alive, though they lay silent since the Holy Wars but will one day rise again to destroy the wicked infidels of the west.”

  “The who?” said Harry.

  “I think she means us,” said Matthias, nudging him in the ribs.

  “Thought I’d check,” said Harry. “So what can this powder do?”

  “If used in the correct quantities you can make bombs that, although small, can achieve significant effects. Blindness, confusion even loss of hearing.”

  “Why not make a bigger one?”

  “It’s too volatile. But get it right and you can leave your foe completely at your mercy and they are easy to conceal about your person.”

  Matthias sat back and thought for a moment. If Sophie was right this could be just the distraction he would need in order to catch Nunez off guard. He’d thought about pistols or a rifle but getting hold of the equipment, let alone the powder and charge, would have been difficult and could arouse suspicion.

  “I’ll need to practice,” he said.

  “Of course,” replied Sophie. “I’ll have some ready for this evening. Maybe we could sneak into the forest?”

  “But we’re locked down?” said Matthias.

  Harry nodded. “I can help you there. I know a good way out around by the kitchens. Even under lock-down it’s easy. The trouble’s getting back in. We’ll need someone to stay behind and lower a rope.”

  “I’m happy to do that,” said Sophie. She got up and smiled at the two boys, “I don’t like loud bangs anyway. I’ll meet you by the kitchens at eight.”

  As Sophie left Harry got up to follow her and grabbed his satchel. “I have to go back to the range. Wilson reckons I’ve been losing my concentration so he wants me to take some extra practice.”

 

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