by carl ashmore
‘Thank you, ma’am,’ Shamus said, pulling at the hem of his jacket. ‘I don’t do stylish, but these rags are reekin’ a bit.’
‘Thank you, Olivia,’ Uncle Percy said.
Olivia Larsen helped Shamus to his feet
Becky watched Olivia Larsen leave with Shamus before she said anything. ‘Will he be memorased?’
‘Yes,’ Uncle Percy replied. ‘And after all he’s seen I think it’s a blessing in disguise, don’t you?’
Becky nodded. ‘Yeah.’
Joe nodded at the dagger. ‘And what’re you going to do with that?’
‘I’m not sure yet,’ Uncle Percy replied.
‘You said the Knights Hospitaller had summat to do with the crusades … Wasn’t Will in the crusades?’
‘Yes. He was in the third crusade.’
‘Then he may know something.’
‘He may do, but it’s a long shot. The Hospitallers existed over a century before Will was even born. However, I suppose it’s as good a place to start as any.’
At that moment, the door opened, followed by the clump of heavy footsteps as Barbie, Uncle Percy’s robot, marched over to them. ‘Good afternoon, sir. Good afternoon, Miss Rebecca, Master Joseph.’
‘Hiya, Barbie,’ Becky and Joe said simultaneously.
‘You’re timing is impeccable, Barbie,’ Uncle Percy said. ‘Would you be a dear and transport us back to the tree house at Bowen Hall? We need to have a little chat with Will.’
‘Of course, sir.’
‘What are you going to do with Beatrix?’ Joe asked Uncle Percy.
‘I’ll worry about her later,’ Uncle Percy replied. ‘Barbie, have you got enough Gerathnium to make the round trip?’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘Excellent,’ Uncle Percy replied, returning the dagger to its scabbard and slipping it into his pocket. ‘Then, Becky, Joe, hold on tight, please.’ He gripped Barbie’s shoulder. ‘When you’re ready, Barbie.’ Becky and Joe held Barbie’s hand. Immediately, the robot’s eyes gleamed emerald; thin tendrils of light illuminated her open mouth.
Before Becky had time to process all that had happened in Balestrino -Shamus, the sickening truth about the Mary Celeste, Otto Kruger’s return - they had gone.
*
The ground hardened beneath Becky’s feet, as carpet became firm earth. A sudden chill clawed at her. Glancing up, she saw sunlight struggle to penetrate the branches of the ancient trees of Bowen Forest. To her left, the wooden platform to Will’s tree house had been lowered to the ground. Then she heard Barbie make a faint humming sound.
‘The Alto-Radar confirms Master Will is on the north bank of Bowen Lake.’
‘Thank you, Barbie,’ Uncle Percy said. ‘If you could return to Balestrino and complete whatever work there is still to do, and then bring Beatrix back to Bowen Hall, I would be most grateful.’
Barbie bowed. ‘Of course, sir.’ A second later, she had gone.
Becky, Joe and Uncle Percy didn’t waste any time. Soon, they were navigating their way along the path that bounded the lake, where they saw Will staring out across the velvety water. The plump figure of Deidre the dodo, her plume of snowy-white feathers fluttering in the breeze, was sitting at his feet, her giant beak nipping gently at his toes. Hearing their approach, Will turned toward them.
‘Hi, Will,’ Joe shouted over.
‘Good afternoon to ye,’ Will said, getting to his feet. ‘And why have you returned from Italy so soon?’
Becky was delighted to see Uncle Percy had made an excellent job of patching up most of his injuries.
‘Yeah,’ Joe replied. ‘We think we’ve had a breakthrough on the next Eden Relic.’
Will looked surprised. ‘Is this true?’
‘Yes,’ Joe replied. ‘And Kruger’s back. He’s been killing again.’
A strange expression flickered across Will’s face, which he seemed to conceal immediately. ‘I should have ended him when I had the chance,’ he growled. ‘Where is he?’
‘In the nineteenth century,’ Joe replied. ‘He slaughtered an entire ship’s crew himself. The Mary Celeste. It’s like this dead famous ship that was found without its crew. Have you heard of it?’
‘I haven’t.’ Will exhaled heavily. ‘That crew is dead because I permitted him to live.’
‘You mustn’t blame yourself, Will,’ Uncle Percy said quickly.
Will ignored him. ‘Why did he slay them?’
‘He was searching for something,’ Joe replied. ‘Show him Uncle Percy.’
Uncle Percy withdrew the scabbard from his jacket, before pulling free the blade. As he did, the colour bled from Will’s face. ‘God’s blood!’
‘What is it, Will?’ Uncle Percy asked.
‘Mine eyes hath seen it before.’ Will could barely speak. ‘At least, if not this one, then its brother.’
‘Where?’ Joe asked urgently.
‘Twas the property of my companion and friend, my comrade in arms, my cleric … Angus Tuck.’
Joe’s jaw tumbled open. ‘You mean Friar Tuck?’
‘I do...’
Chapter 10
Morogh MacDougal
‘Are you sure, Will?’ Uncle Percy asked.
Becky thought Uncle Percy’s voice contained a strangely dark inflection.
‘I have no doubt of it,’ Will replied.
‘So what’s so special about it?’ Joe asked excitedly. ‘I mean, Kruger offed a load of blokes to get his dirty mitts on it.’
‘I know not,’ Will replied, frowning at the flippancy in Joe’s tone. ‘What I do know is Tuck held it to be his most prized possession. He bore it at his side at all times, even in slumber.’
‘So could this be the same one?’ Becky asked.
Will reached out and took the knife, studying it front and back. ‘I think not,’ he said. ‘I believe the script on the blade to be different.’
‘What was written on the other one?’ Joe asked.
‘I do not know,’ Will said. ‘I know it was a riddle, but that is all. Tuck translated it for me once, but I did not listen. In truth, I rarely heeded the Friar’s words in matters of the dagger, for they were often provoked by large amounts of mead. Still, I am firm these are not the words on Tuck’s dagger. Furthermore, I believe this dagger completes a pairing Tuck often described with reverence.’
‘What d’you mean?’ Joe asked.
‘Tuck claimed his blade to be one of a pair created by Morogh MacDougal, a Scottish noble and respected Knight of the First Crusade. He said that MacDougal had found an artefact on an expedition to the Holy Land – something of enormous power … something that filled him with both wonder and fear. For this reason, he concealed it from the eyes of men, but crafted the daggers as a guide, a pointer if you will to its location, for reasons known only to himself.’
‘An Eden Relic?’ Joe asked.
‘In that time I knew nothing of such objects. I just believed the whole matter a fanciful tale with no foundation in truth. Many people, from peasant to patrician, would talk of finding such divine relics, and I believed this to be just another one of those untrue tales.’
‘Was the object a sword?’ Joe asked, eyes bright.
Will looked shocked. ‘Aye, boy. It was.’
‘Uncle Percy,’ Joe said. ‘Read him the riddle.’
Uncle Percy took back the dagger and translated the Latin text.
‘A fiery blade, eh?’ Will said.
‘Yeah … did Tuck ever mention something like that? Joe asked.
Will nodded. ‘He referred to it as The Sword of Ages.’
Joe’s face lit up. ‘The Sword of Ages!’
‘But more than that, I do not know. In truth, I rarely listened to the story. I had enough problems to ponder upon at the time, I felt no need to entertain myself with stories of fable and legend.’
‘It is all very interesting,’ Uncle Percy said thoughtfully, tenting his fingers.
‘Why?’ Becky asked.
‘As I menti
oned before, I’ve been doing research into possible Eden Relics, but found nothing concrete. However, there is a passage in the bible, in Genesis: 3: 22 -24 to be precise, that says, "So the Lord God banished Adam from the Garden of Eden to work the ground. After he drove him out, he placed Cherubims and a flaming sword to guard the way to the tree of life."
‘A flaming sword?’ Joe said.
‘Yes.’
‘So the Sword of Ages is mentioned in the bible?’ Becky asked.
‘Well, a flaming sword certainly is. But the bible is a complex book, with many authors and penned over a great deal of time. How much truth is contained within it is a matter of faith.’
‘But it can’t be coincidence,’ Joe insisted. ‘We know Eden Relics are real. We’ve got Tuck’s story about that MacDougal bloke, and the fact that Kruger was trying to get this dagger means he must know about Tuck’s story, too.’
Uncle Percy nodded his agreement. ‘It certainly warrants further investigation.’
‘Further investigation?’ Joe snorted. ‘We need to get to Medieval England pretty damn quickly, find Friar Tuck and …’
‘No!’ Will cut him off like a bullet.
‘Why not?’ Joe said, surprised by the bluntness in Will’s voice.
‘Do not question me on this, boy … You shall not be going!’
‘But we need to –’
‘ENOUGH!’ Will roared, stunning them all to silence. ‘My judgement is final. And there shall be no more talk of it.’ He marched off, his angry footsteps crunching the parched grass.
Becky’s head swirled as she watched him disappear into the trees. She had never heard Will raise his voice before, never mind shout.
Joe took a few seconds to digest what had just happened, before spinning sharply toward Uncle Percy. ‘What the bloody hell was that all about?’
‘I’m not sure,’ Uncle Percy replied, clearly as shaken as Becky and Joe. ‘What I do know is they were perilous times, and no one knows those perils better than Will. He cares for you deeply, for both of you, and I’m sure he just wants to keep you out of harm’s way.’
Joe puffed loudly. ‘They’re all perilous!’ he snapped back. ‘Well, we don’t need him. We’ll go back to Medieval England, anyway. One way or another, we’ll find Tuck, get that other dagger and find out more about the Sword of Ages. Who knows, maybe it’s even there somewhere, locked away in a castle dungeon or summat.’
‘I need to think about this.’
‘What’s there to think about?’
‘Plenty,’ Uncle Percy replied. ‘But first I think I’d better have a private chat with William. I’ll see you at dinner…’
As Uncle Percy left, Joe flopped on to the ground, confused and deflated. He cradled his head in his hands and sighed, ‘What is going on?’
‘I don’t know,’ Becky replied truthfully.
Joe shook his head. ‘They’re doin’ my nut in. Now I’m convinced they’re not telling us everything. Remember what Drake said about us being unwitting pawns in someone else’s game. I’m positive now he was flippin’ right.’
A knot grew in Becky’s stomach. Once again, she couldn’t bring herself to disagree with him.
*
For the next few hours, Becky walked around in something of a trance, like a ghost drifting through the hallways of a haunted house, never quite being able to focus on anything. So much had happened that day, but for all the incredible things she’d seen, one single image revisited her again and again: Will’s expression when Joe suggested they travel to Medieval England. What was going through his head? Fear? Panic? Worry? She couldn’t quite tell.
Will didn’t make an appearance at dinner. Instead, Uncle Percy passed on his apologies for the outburst to Joe, furthering this with his own explanation that Will was out of sorts following his recent accident and not feeling himself at all.
Becky still couldn’t accept it. Devoid of any appetite, she prodded her Shepherd’s Pie absently, until Maria stated her concern that she was becoming “Disblexic”, and that she would never get a boyfriend if she were as thin as feathergrass. At this point Joe coughed the name ‘Dan Hardman’ and Becky tipped a glass of orange juice down his trousers.
The rest of the meal was cloaked in an uncomfortable silence. And it was only when Maria and Jacob left to wash up the dishes that Joe spoke up.
‘So when are we going to Medieval England?’ he whispered to Uncle Percy.
‘Leave it with me, Joe,’ Uncle Percy replied. ‘We’re not doing anything until I’ve done more research.’
‘What’s there to research? We need to find Tuck and see what he knows about the Sword of Ages. Simple as …’
Uncle Percy frowned. ‘I don’t think it is quite as simple as that, young man. And these things take some time to prepare. Now, once again, I’ll ask you to leave it with me…’
Hours later, Becky returned to her bedroom feeling exhausted and drained. The day’s events had finally caught up with her. She washed, cleaned her teeth, and was about to climb into bed when there was a low knock on her door. ‘Come in,’ she said.
The door opened slowly. Joe was standing there in his pyjamas, his face as white as chalk. She knew at once something was very wrong.
‘What’s the matter?’ Becky asked quickly.
Joe didn’t reply. Instead, he held up his hand and waved a strip of salmon pink paper. ‘This…’
‘What is it?’
‘A lottery ticket.’
‘What are you doing with a lottery ticket?’
‘It’s not my lottery ticket.’
‘Then whose is it?’
Joe shuffled over and sat on the edge of the bed. ‘Do you remember on the school roof when Drake grabbed me and said he wanted to give me a message. Well I think he did.’ He stared at the ticket. ‘I think he gave me this…’
‘What do you mean?’
‘I was starving and remembered I’d got some grots in my school blazer pocket. I went to look and found this.’ He passed the over the ticket.
Hesitantly, Becky took it and scanned the six numbers: 13 – 19 – 39 - 41 - 43 - 48. The first three numbers were encircled in green ink, the others in red.
‘Now look at the other side.’
Fingers trembling, Becky turned it over. Five words were written on the back of the ticket in an elegant script.
‘For Harry, England and Saint George …’
Fear scaled Becky’s spine. She recognised the handwriting instantly – she’d seen it before on a Valentines Day card she’d been given on a recent trip to 1920s Chicago.
A Valentines Day card from Emerson Drake.
Chapter 11
Going … Going … Gone
‘We need to see Uncle Percy,’ Becky insisted. ‘And now.’
They wasted no time at all. Tearing out of the bedroom, they hurtled down the corridors and were soon racing into the Entrance Hall.
All the while, Becky felt revulsion grow within. She had no doubt Drake had slipped the ticket into Joe’s pocket … but why? What on earth did it mean? ‘For Harry, England and Saint George?’ She’d heard the phrase before, but had no idea where or why Drake had written it. And what was the significance of the numbers, half circled in green pen, half in red?
They checked room after room, but there was no sign of Uncle Percy.
‘Maybe he’s gone to bed?’ Joe said, after they’d checked the kitchen and parlour. ‘Or maybe he’s in the Time Room?’ He sighed. ‘I s’pose, we’d better wait until morning.’
‘We haven’t tried the library,’ Becky replied.
Together, they sped up the stairs until they reached the topmost floor. Reaching the landing, they spied a soft orange light oozing from beneath the library door. Becky knocked twice. They heard movement and a second later the door opened, to reveal Uncle Percy, wearing a silk dressing gown, a pair of half moon reading glasses bridging the tip of his nose.
‘Becky, Joe, can I help you?’
‘We need to see y
ou,’ Becky said. ‘It’s urgent.’
‘Very well,’ Uncle Percy replied. ‘Please, come in.’
Becky could see at once Uncle Percy had been busy. The circular table in the centre of the room was buried beneath dozens of open volumes, leather bound and brown with age. Nestled between the gigantic bookshelves that filled the room was a writing desk, set upon which were four wrist Portavellas.
‘How’s the research going?’ Joe asked Uncle Percy.
‘Slowly,’ Uncle Percy replied. ‘I’ve been learning what I can about Morogh MacDougal, but it’s not been easy.’
‘Why?’
‘There’s just very little out there,’ Uncle Percy replied, approaching the table and sitting down. ‘I’ve studied the work of Fulcher of Chartres, Ekkehard of Aura, Robert the Monk, Albert of Aix, Guibert of Nogent – all of them historians and chroniclers of this period, but there is little or no mention of Morogh MacDougal. The most useful thing I’ve found was Balderic, Bishop of Dol’s work Historiae Hierosolymitanae libri IV, a detailed account of the First Crusade, including many of the individuals involved, but even then MacDougal is only mentioned in passing.’
‘What about The Sword of Ages?’
‘Not a sausage,’ Uncle Percy replied. ‘No mention, whatsoever. And believe me, I’ve looked. Anyway, to what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?’
Joe’s face darkened.
‘Go on, Joe,’ Becky urged. ‘Show him.’
Hesitantly, Joe held up the ticket. ‘Drake slipped this into my pocket when we were on the school roof. There’s a message on the back.’
Uncle Percy looked like he’d been punched in the gut. He snatched the ticket and studied the back of the ticket.
‘We know it’s from Drake, I know his handwriting,’ Becky said in such a way it was pointless Uncle Percy trying to deny it. ‘What does the message mean? And where have I heard it before?’
‘It’s part of a speech from Shakespeare’s Henry V, Act III,’ Uncle Percy said. ‘It’s one of the most quoted speeches in the English language.’
‘And what’s the point of it?’
‘I … err … I don’t know,’ Uncle Percy replied.