by Wendy Reakes
“Sorry about that, Nick. Really! I should have told you I was going off for a couple of days. You know what I’m like.” She laughed. Charlie smiled politely as he offered Nick the remaining chair. Nick took it. “But, as you can see I’m in the middle of writing this week’s column. I’ll have it on your desk in the morning.” She read the title to him. “’Alice Burton. Does she ever say no?’” It’s about how she lets the men bamboozle her. It makes me wonder, Nick, who is in control of the country? What do you think?”
“Where have you been?”
Charlie piped up. “Visiting our grandmother in Cardiff. She’s a good granddaughter, our Char.”
“Cardiff?”
Charlotte nodded. “Yes, she’s not too good. She’s not got many years left, has she, Charlie?”
“Not many. Nine or ten, tops.”
“Nick placed his elbows on his knees and held his hands with his fingers locked together. “The thing is, Charlotte. You were seen leaving Number 10 a couple of nights ago. Under escort.” Nick smiled.
Charlie intervened. “That was a misunderstanding.”
Nick raised his eyes to see Charlie lounging on his unmade bed. “Oh?”
“Yeah, Charlotte got her wrists slapped over me.”
“You?”
“They accused me of being that internet vigilante fellow…What’s his name, sis?”
Nick Vaughan answered for him. “ICE.”
“That’s it. ICE.”
“And are you?”
There was a pause before they all laughed in unison. Charlie wagged his finger. “That’s very funny.”
His chin was raised as he looked at Charlotte. “Why would the PM be interested in ICE?” He turned to Charlie. “Whoever he may be.”
Charlotte answered. “It had something to do with Ben. My husband Ben! As you know he went under the radar a couple of nights ago.”
“Yes, I remember having that discussion with you, Charlotte.”
“Hmm, yes, and I thought I’d follow it up. I thought the PM might know something about it.”
He nodded. “And did she?”
She shook her head. “Didn’t have a clue! Instead I got an ear bashing about that chap called ICE, thinking he was Charlie, here…” She laughed “As if!” She rolled her eyes. “I was a bit put out to tell you the truth, Nick.”
“Is that right?”
She nodded. “I was.”
“So where is Ben?”
Charlotte acted like she was reluctant to divulge. She pouted and sucked her bottom lip. “Seems he’s been accused of taking up with a slut backbencher called Claire. He was told to lay low.”
“So it’s not true? The backbencher?” Nick grinned.
Charlotte shook her head making her hair move. “Not a word of it. We were all wrong on that one.” She rolled her eyes again.
“And you expect him back, when?”
“Tomorrow, for sure.”
“Tomorrow!”
“For sure.”
Nick Vaughan got up from his chair and walked towards the door. Charlie leapt off the bed and opened the door for him. He offered a wave to the two men standing outside. They snarled in response.
“So I’ll see you in the office tomorrow, Charlotte?”
“You betcha,” she called back.
Nick left then, walking down the corridor to the stairs of Charlie Croft’s building, while his two men followed. “Get what you wanted, Nick?”
Nick didn’t respond. All he knew was he didn’t believe one damn word of the crap, Charlotte Croft and her stupid brother just spieled.
Chapter 92
Mark Buzzard mingled with a group of Llyns who had been instructed by the Bird Catcher to guard him from the vision of the king. He had preferred to stay in the palace, especially since the last time when he had been sent to Bedlam, but the Bird Catcher had insisted. If he was to be presented to the king it had to be in the Festival Hall, their most revered of places.
It was the only time the king accepted betrothals of any of his subjects. Since that one concerned his beloved daughter, Wren, it was wise to stick to tradition.
“Do you love my princess?” Byron asked when they were still in Wren’s bedchamber.
He looked at Wren in the corner of the room. She was changing her dress behind a hand painted screen, decorated with the same design as her rail-board, painted by the hand of Whistler himself. “I do. I love her more than anything.”
“Even your own life?”
“Yes.”
“Then prepare yourself to be presented to her father, because you will have her no other way.”
If Mark had had any further doubts, they were soon dispelled when Wren stepped out from behind the screen. Her gown was an empire-line design of the deepest red and shaped beneath her bust, reminding him of Nelson’s Josephine. Puff sleeves caressed her creamy white shoulder and as it reached to the floor, he could see matching slippers adorning her pretty little feet. She wore a tiara over long hair tumbling in waves down her back and on one dainty wrist sat a bracelet of tiny scattered stones.
She was exquisite. Everyone in the room had their eyes on her, but she didn’t notice. Her gaze went only to Mark, and as she crossed the room towards him she said, “Do you like my dress, Mark? It was my mother's.”
“I...”
“Enough frivolity,” Byron interrupted. “These are grave times. There is no room for pleasure.”
Mark offered Wren a loving smile as Byron left them. Then, with an exaggerated frown, he moved the flat of his hand as if it was a gentle wave on the water. “You look okay.”
That’s when she ran into his arms. “Thank you, my Mark. I knew you would like it.”
Later, Cannes had escorted him through the palace corridors and into the bustling city centre. They went unnoticed as they crossed the bridge leading towards the Forest of Birds and when they passed by its entrance, Mark stopped as if he was frozen. He was looking through the entrance to the forest and saw a landscape of such wonder, he thought his eyes were playing tricks on him.
Cannes spoke as his eyes feasted on the forest and the birds flying about the cavernous ceiling. “Listen to me. Go into the Festival Hall. Stay out of sight as much as you can. The princess will arrive with the king soon.”
He left him then and as Mark went through the next entrance and beheld the vision of the hall in front of him, he felt like falling to his knees.
It was the size of the Forest of Birds, except the ceiling was lower, even though it was still thirty feet above his head. The walls on the right hand side were lined with antiquated speckled mirrors in elaborate frames and varying sizes, looking as if they had been taken from a French court in 1666. The candles in the candelabrum around the room reflected in their smoky glass, making a twinkling display of colours and shadows, spreading warmth around the hall and offering an atmosphere of reverence. For there, at the far side, gleaming and reflecting light as if God himself had illuminated it, hung an enormous shiny brass crucifix.
Mark was taken off guard. He hadn’t once considered the religious beliefs of the people who lived down there. It hadn’t occurred to him they would have a religion, as they were so far separated from heaven itself. In fact, weren’t they closer to hell?
In the middle of the room was an enclosed platform like a park’s bandstand made of fine decorative wrought iron, where the king’s throne now sat along with four other empty chairs of distinction. The platform held a harp and a simple stool in its centre where a woman sat and strummed on its harmonic strings.
On the left hand side, against the wall, blackened tubes fell from the ceiling in varying sizes, like the base of a giant organ.
It suddenly occurred to Mark it was Sunday, and that they were now in church, albeit an underground one.
Chapter 93
The email arrived and it carried an attachment. Charlie was reluctant to open it. “It could be a Trojan horse with a tracker.”
Charlotte was shaking her head.
“Well, we can’t just not open it.”
“Hang on, don’t worry.” Charlie opened his telephone drawer, as Charlotte had now dubbed it, and pulled out the metallic blue phone he wouldn’t let her use earlier. He switched it on, went back to his email, and forwarded it to the phone. Charlotte took a sneak look at the address: Fort Knox.
“How do you keep up with it all, bro?”
Charlie tapped his skull with his finger. He was fiddling with the blue phone. “Okay, here it is.” He handed it to her.
The Prime Minister’s name and official address was at the top. Charlotte read aloud. “To Col. Geoffrey Barnes and whom it may concern. Re: The Sous Llyndum Project. As you are aware, my orders to the Jellalabad regiment was to explore the feasibility of implementing the project named above, whereby the government may investigate improving the London overcrowding issue and provide underground housing for its residents of any wealth status. I have previously issued verbal instructions, ordering you to abort the scheme named above and judging by the lack of response to my orders, I have been compelled to offer the same command in writing. The English Heritage organization is supporting me in my decision to delay any further action until suitable arrangements for the civilians of Sous Llyndum can be made. I reiterate. Your orders are to abort.”
“Well that pretty much clears her name of any involvement,” Charlie quipped.
“I don’t care about that. Whatever wrong they do, they still manage to wriggle out of it. ‘Accountability’. That’s going to be the title of my next column.”
“So what now? You’re taking the letter back to Sous Llyndum, right?”
She shook her head. “I can’t go back. They won’t allow it. Besides I have no way of going back. The route I took coming out will be locked and the entrance under Blackfriars Bridge will be sealed. I still don’t know how they opened that.”
“So how?”
Charlotte checked her watch. “Okay, we don’t have very long, but we’ve got someone waiting at Monument Station. We just have to get the letter to him and he’ll deliver it.”
“Who’s that then?”
Charlotte was too embarrassed to say the words. She coughed. “It is the Royal Prince, Heron.”
Charlie chuckled. “No shit.”
Chapter 94
Barnes and his men entered the Festival Hall. The cavern was packed with people now, all milling around talking, but there was no missing the colonel and his men; their uniform did nothing to camouflage their military status in that place down there. He spotted Ben immediately and approached him with a gloating expression on his face. “Mason, where’s that wife of yours? Or did you make the whole ‘abort mission’ thing up?”
“You know damn well I didn’t. You’ve had your orders, Barnes. Time to give it up, man.” How he hated him.
Barnes looked around at the wonders of the Festival Hall, but to him it wasn’t so wondrous. “Show me the proof, Mason. Show me the proof or stay out of my face.”
One of his men whispered in his ear. He nodded and made a movement with his eyes. The soldier indicated for the other men to follow him and then they all made their way to the entrance.
“Where are they going?”
Barnes grinned.
Ben was just to give him a piece of his mind when the king and his entourage entered the hall in a parade of glory. Cheers could be heard from the people gathered about as music rang out from the bandstand with flutes playing along with the strings of the harp. The king was in front with the Bird Catcher at his side. To his rear, Wren the princess followed. Ben strained his neck to catch a glimpse of Heron, but he was not with them. Ben’s stomach lurched at the thought of them failing in their mission.
Heron should have been back by now and soon it could be too late.
Chapter 95
The king and the Bird Catcher climbed the steps onto the bandstand followed by the princess and two other notables. Ben studied Byron’s face as she stood next to the king, dressed in all his regalia. Ben couldn’t tell what would happen next. Byron hadn’t divulged her plan to him. She had trusted him as much as she could. Earlier in the princess’s chamber, she said it was up to Charlotte now. His wife was responsible for putting an end to the threat hanging over all their heads and that terrified the hell out of him.
Ben pleaded with Byron. “Why don’t you simply arrest him?”
“Because we don’t know what he has planned. If we arrest him, we will have to take measures and if we’re wrong, it could cause an unnecessary war between our two cultures. We do not want that. We have kept our home up to now because we have been peaceful.”
“Except for the last time,” Ben argued. “Barnes and his men had to escape the city.”
“We are peaceful, but we are not weak. This is our domain, ruled by our king. No one comes here without first putting our king’s position at the top of their consideration. Minister Barnes broke the allegiance when he offered to fight our king.” Byron calmed and said, “Besides, he has not been honest with you. It was I who got them out of the city. He could never have fought the king; he would have been thrown into Damnation first.”
“You got them out. What did the king say about that?”
“I told him they had run for their lives and persuaded him he was a lenient ruler, albeit a formidable one. He was content. Any other way would have tested him too much. He could have lost control.”
“What about now? How do you know Barnes won’t trick you all? He and his men may have weapons.”
She shrugged. “We still don’t know what Heron and his friends brought into the city. The foolish boy didn’t even attempt to look inside the satchels. Nevertheless, we will search their chambers when they go to the festival. In the meantime our guards will be watching them. We, too, have weapons, but we prefer no bloodshed.”
Ben had to wonder how much he could trust the Bird Catcher. For all he knew the whole plan was a trap. The only thing he could do now was wait to see what developed, but mostly he needed to keep his eyes on the colonel and hope he attempted nothing to endanger them all.
Chapter 96
Heron felt someone tap him on the shoulder. He was in the middle of a game and he didn’t want to be distracted. “What is it?” He thrust the lever forward and fired towards his target with virtual missiles. He flicked his eyes to the side to see a stranger standing there. The man tapped his shoulder once more. Heron was put off. He missed....He was out....He cursed...He turned to confront his new enemy behind him.
Heron’s friends, Blade and Axel, took a defensive stance behind the man. In turn he regarded their clothes and their unclean faces. He didn’t know what to make of them.
“Are you Mr. Heron?” he asked.
The three youths laughed. Heron pulled back his shoulders and thrust out his chest. He pulled the pocket watch from his waistcoat and checked it out. He didn’t know how to tell the time. Besides, it had stopped working years ago after his grandfather gave it to him. “Yes, my good man. I am Mr. Heron.”
Blade and Axel laughed.
The man held out a letter sealed inside an envelope. “This is for you.”
Heron took it and thrust it into his inside coat pocket.
“You must deliver it to Colonel Geoffrey Barnes. Okay?”
“Yes, on my return.” He turned back to his place at the video machine, but his time had run out and there was a coin stuck in the dispenser. He couldn’t push it in.
“You’ll be going now then will you?”
Heron spun about and slapped Axel on the back before they all took off across the concourse towards the entrance to the platform.
Charlie Croft grinned and pulled the Euro out of the slot. He replaced it with a pound coin and began his own game, firing virtual missiles.
Chapter 97
The service began.
It was no festival. It was a religious ceremony and it was linked up to the same ceremony now going on in St. Paul’s Cathedral. It was Sunday for Christ sake. The whole thing
was incredible. Organ music was filtering through the chimes on the left hand wall and the people were singing hymns, albeit the words were different from the norm. Ben watched the king and the Bird Catcher sing in praise while behind them Wren craned her pretty little neck, trying to detect the whereabouts of her love, the American, Mark Buzzard.
Ben followed suit and searched the crowds to find him. Ben needed an ally and Mark was the only one he could trust. There! He spotted him hidden among some Llyn’s who were singing to their heart’s content. As the music boomed around the room, Ben made his way through the crowds. He tapped Mark on the shoulder.