by Arnot, Tim
Flick regained her composure briefly, then exploded. ‘Where the hell have you been?’ she whispered furiously.
It was a mixture of anger and relief. Anger that he’d disappeared, anger that he hadn’t got in touch to tell her he was okay, anger that he’d just appeared here out of the blue, and relief that he was still alive and that he’d come back and found her. But anger won on aggregate. She realised her fists were clenched.
Clunk! Eight wooden staves met above their heads, bringing her back to reality. The Morris men moved back out again. Shea stood there with a look of astonishment on his face.
‘I had to go. Hide,’ Shea said.
The fool interrupted and pushed them apart just before two Morris men skipped between them with a clashing of sticks. Flick stood watching with daggers in her eyes.
Then the fool pushed them together again, just in time to avoid being hit by two pairs of sticks, one in front and one behind.
‘Kingsmen,’ Shea whispered as loudly as he could in Flick’s ear. ‘If they catch me, they’ll kill me.’
Yes, she knew that: so what was he doing in plain sight in the middle of the May Festival? She shuddered, remembering the execution in the town square only the day before.
‘They found your stuff,’ Flick said. ‘Adam was crowing about it for a week.’
‘Who’s Adam?’
‘My brother. Today’s his Choosing. Wants to join the Watch.’
The fool cavorted in again and pushed them to a different position. Two different pairs of dancers clashed sticks.
‘I missed you!’ Shea shouted.
‘Good,’ Flick shouted back. ‘I looked for you.’
Shea grinned. ‘I’m here now.’
Flick frowned. ‘Why?’
‘Why did I run?’
‘No, why are you here?’
‘To see you.’
The dancers weaved around them, pushing them apart. When they finally were pushed back together again, Flick continued.
‘I don’t want to see you.’ She did. She knew she did, but that didn’t mean he could just walk back into her life and everything would be all right.
‘But I thought…’
‘What? That I was a silly little girl out in the woods that you could take advantage of?’
‘No, of course not.’
‘Then what?’ This was the crucial question. The music rose to a climax, the fool whirled them around, and sticks clashed.
‘Come with me.’
What?
The music stopped, and the fool grabbed them, one on each hand, and bowed. Flick and Shea took the hint and bowed too, turning in different directions to face different parts of the audience. Released, Flick made quickly for the anonymity of the trees, followed by Shea. The dancers huddled together, setting up their next number.
Rosie was waiting in the shelter of the trees, and before Flick could demand further explanation from Shea, asked, ‘Hey Flick, who’s your friend?’
‘Good question,’ Flick said, glowering. ‘I thought I knew. Go on Shea, tell her who you are.’
‘I’m a traveller,’ supplied Shea, quickly.
‘Rosie is my little sister,’ said Flick. ‘And my whole life. I couldn’t leave her for anything. Or anyone.’ Her eyes were daggers.
If Rosie spotted the subtext, she showed no sign. ‘You can call me Ro.’
‘What do you ladies say to some of this pig roast?’ Shea asked. They had reached a stall where a large pig was being turned on a spit over a fire. Great slices of pork had been carved off it, and the aroma wafting in the not quite still air was mouth-watering. Smoke from the fire drifted up lazily into the canopy of the trees, where it hung around as if reluctant to leave.
Rosie’s eyes lit up. ‘Can we? Please?’
Flick smiled. ‘Of course we can.’ She handed over some coins, and got back several large pork slices wrapped in bread, which she handed out.
‘Ro, why don’t you go and see what Adam and Dad are getting up to? Shea and I have things to discuss.’ Flick glanced across at Shea, who nodded.
Rosie winked. ‘And you don’t want me playing gooseberry, eh? Okay, see you later.’ She skipped off back through the trees.
Flick and Shea went out into the field beyond the trees and sat on the grass, looking down the hill towards the town.
‘See, there’s no way I can go anywhere with you. You’ve seen what I have here; Rosie and Dad, even Adam. I can’t, I won’t give that up. Not for you, not for anyone.’
Shea sighed. ‘You can’t fault a guy for trying.’
‘So why is everyone after you?’
‘It’s… complicated,’ Shea said.
Flick raised her eyebrows and stopped eating.
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ she asked.
‘I really can’t say any more than that.’
‘Look… I helped you.’
‘And I’m very grateful,’ Shea interrupted, trying to cut her off.
Flick glared at him and continued, ‘I taught you stuff… trapping…’ I nearly kissed you. ‘…Brought you food…’ want to kiss you…
‘Look, seriously, cards on the table. Am I in trouble with the law because of you?’
Shea was silent.
‘Right. So what sort of trouble am I in?’ Flick’s words were icily calm.
‘Look, no. It’s not like that,’ stammered Shea. ‘You’re not in trouble with the law, at least not on my account. It’s just that… well… that wreckage you found me with… it’s a flying machine, and the Kingsmen want to get hold of it, and me and anyone I’ve been in contact with.’
Flick looked at him askance. Then she laughed so hard she fell over backwards.
‘You cannot be serious! This is what it’s all about? A flying machine?’
Shea nodded. ‘Keep your voice down,’ he hissed.
‘I’m sorry, but really, a flying machine? That’s something out of the Dark Times! Big metal tubes full of people, miles up in the sky. No one can make that kind of thing any more.’
‘Maybe not the big metal tubes, but smaller ones, yes they can. We can–the Scavs,’ Shea hissed. ‘That’s why they want me so badly. And why you should come with me… If they find out you’ve helped me, you’ll be in danger too.’
‘But haven’t they already got it? The wreck I mean. Adam saw the Watch drag it into town.’
She jumped up without warning, causing Shea to fall back in alarm. ‘The Choosing! It must be about to start. It’s Adam’s big day and I’ll be in real trouble if I miss it! Come on!’
She pulled Shea to his feet and ran back to the clearing.
13
The Choosing
ADAM STOOD NERVOUSLY with the other fifteen year olds in front of the maypole. His plan to get the radio to that Kingsman had failed, backfired in the most stupidly annoying way. He’d been pushing through the crowd at the hanging, looking for a Kingsman–any Kingsman–to give it to in the hope that they’d pass it on. One of the mayor’s thugs had stopped him and demanded to know what he was hiding. His hands had been in his coat pocket, protecting the device, and Adam supposed, in hindsight, that’d he’d looked just a bit too suspicious. There had been nowhere to run; nowhere to hide the device, so he’d been forced to hand it over. Adam was fortunate that the thug didn’t seem to know what the thing was, or he’d have been hauled off before the mayor too. Instead, he’d just been given a clip round the ear and told to sod off.
The six fifteen year olds–Ned Elliott, Carolyn Grace (the butcher’s girl), Del, Ron, Colin and Adam–had been herded into the clearing and right now, nothing seemed to be happening.
The mayor climbed onto the stage along with Captain Phillip Marley, the Commander of the Watch, and two black-clad Kingsmen officers. He waved the crowd to silence. ‘Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the hundred-and-second annual Choosing,’ he intoned. ‘Each year our best and brightest are chosen to study the sciences and enter law enforcement, to protect what we have from those that wo
uld destroy or take it from us.’
The Choosing had been established in the early years of the New Kingdom, some fifty years after The Collapse. It was a rite of passage for every fifteen year old, marking the transition between childhood and adulthood. It was also a marketplace where employers came to choose their apprentices. In bigger towns and cities, the Choosing was a major event in its own right, with many trades and professions, but in a small town like Faringdon, choices were limited both for the youngsters and for the tradesmen. For most, the choice was simple; the family trade, or the Watch. The Watch mostly mopped up anyone that hadn’t been chosen for another trade, which gave it a reputation for being an unruly mob of ne’er-do-wells.
Love was often found or lost at the Choosing, and wedding plans made or abandoned as the prospective bride or groom stayed or left town for good to start a new life elsewhere. No surprise that the bitter February month was often a busy time for the midwife.
Flick caught Adam’s eye and waved. Adam grinned and held both thumbs up. He felt confident.
The mayor’s words were familiar, Adam had heard them many times before, and wondered who these best and brightest might possibly be. Nobody in his memory had ever been chosen to study the sciences, and if law enforcement meant the Watch, well, Adam actually wanted to join! Case closed!
The mayor continued, ‘I will now call out the names of the candidates, and the choices will be made.’ He consulted his sheet of paper and called out the first name, ‘Ned Elliott.’
There was silence as Ned stepped forward and climbed onto the stage.
‘I choose,’ came a call from the crowd.
The mayor pointed, and the owner of the voice stepped forward.
‘Stafford’s the name,’ the man said, ‘blacksmith from over Carterton way. I be needing a ‘prentice.’
The mayor nodded, and the clerk wrote the details down in his ledger. Ned Elliott left the stage for a life of blacksmithing.
The mayor read out the next name, and Carolyn Grace took the stage, but nobody called out, and the mayor said simply, ‘Watch.’ She went to stand by Captain Marley, the disappointment obvious on her face.
‘Derek Murcheson,’ the mayor called, and Del took the stage. Once more there were no takers from the crowd, but this time, the mayor himself looked the boy up and down. ‘I choose him to work as a manual labourer on my estates,’ he announced.
Del grinned and put both thumbs up. Manual labour for the mayor mostly meant bullying, and he was good at that. The mayor took Ron, but Colin was chosen by his father to go into his tailoring business, which just left Adam.
The mayor called his name out, and Adam climbed the steps onto the stage. He stood looking out at the crowd, hoping no one would call out. He looked around nervously and spotted Dad and Flick in the crowd. He grinned and they waved back.
Then Mayor Griffin leaned over to him. With a fixed grin on his face he said, sotto voce, so only Adam could hear, ‘I know about your little toy.’
Adam turned in alarm and saw the radio he’d stolen from Flick concealed in the mayor’s hand. Cold fingers gripped his chest and he had an uncontrollable urge to jump off the stage and disappear into the crowd. He wobbled slightly and hands gripped his arms tightly from behind.
‘We don’t want you falling over,’ the mayor said quietly. ‘It is, after all, such a stressful event, your… Choosing. And thank you for this little toy, it will be most… useful.’
Adam looked around in alarm and saw two of the mayor’s thugs. Now he realised that taking the radio had been the second most stupid thing he’d ever done, after letting the mayor get hold of it. He wanted to find Flick, to tell her he was sorry, to warn her that Mayor Griffin had the radio, and who knew what he planned to do with it. But even though he struggled, the two thugs’ grip held fast and he couldn’t move. Black spots swam before his eyes. He tried to shout, but no words came out.
The mayor puffed himself up and looked out over the audience. Then he shouted, ‘I choose…’
But he was cut off by the sound of his two thugs collapsing onto the stage. Adam just stood, barely aware of what was happening, as one of the Kingsmen calmly announced, ‘Adam Carter will be coming with us.’
Then it was as if the world caught up with his ears and Adam felt the blood drain from his face. People told to go with Kingsmen disappeared just as surely as people they arrested. Adam didn’t know what happened to them, but he did know they never came back. He thought of the Kingsman woman that day in the museum. Why wasn’t she here? She’d know he’d tried to do the right thing, wouldn’t she?
The first Kingsman left the stage and the second prodded him forward. For a moment he was rooted to the spot. He didn’t want to disappear; he wanted to join the Watch; to be with his mates: Fred, Stanley, Bill, Harry, Robby Porter, and even Berry. He never wanted this.
A second prod was all that it took to get Adam’s legs working, and the Kingsmen silently led him down the hill, away from the tower, away from his friends, away from everyone he knew.
Flick turned to her father. ‘What just happened? Did Adam just get arrested?’
‘I don’t know,’ he said, sounding confused. ‘I don’t think so… Why would they arrest him? It looked more like he was chosen for the Kingsmen. But I’ve never heard of such a thing happening.’
‘Does that mean Adam will be going away?’ Rosie asked.
‘Yes honey, I expect so,’ her dad said. ‘They’ll go away for training, but I expect he’ll be back to visit. Come on, we can go and talk to the Kingsmen and they’ll tell us all about it.’
Shea tapped on Flick’s arm, gesturing for her to stay.
‘Er, I’ll catch you guys up in a minute,’ she said.
‘Don’t be too long!’ Rosie called as she and her father pushed through the milling people to get to the stage.
Flick turned to Shea. ‘Was that anything to do with you know what?’ she hissed.
Shea shrugged. ‘Dunno. I doubt it though. The Kingsmen don’t work like that. If they want you they just take you away, or you disappear. I think he’s one of them now. But remember what I said before. I think you need to be even more careful now.’
‘Are you suggesting Adam would…’ Then she thought about how Adam had reacted when the wreckage had been found.
‘Look, I really don’t think you should be here. I don’t know what tomfool idea made you come here in the first place, but wherever you’ve been hiding, you really should go back, before someone spots you. Now I have to go and say goodbye to Adam. I don’t want to find you still here when I get back.’
She turned to look for her father and Rosie. She spotted them in front of the stage, talking to Adam. The two Kingsmen, still on the stage were chatting animatedly to the mayor, who nodded vigorously.
She was about to go when the Town Crier’s voice boomed out across the clearing. ‘All persons here present shall hearken and pay attention to His Worship the Mayor.’
It sounded very formal, so she stopped to see what was going on. Mayor Griffin stood on the stage, waiting for people to settle down. Flick thought he looked flustered, and briefly wondered why. Then he looked around the clearing, with a grave expression on his face.
‘It has come to my attention,’ he shouted, ‘that there is a dangerous criminal at large.’
‘Well, there are plenty of those,’ muttered Flick under her breath, ‘not least the one that’s talking now.’
Mayor Griffin continued, ‘And not just in the area. There have been reports that this… criminal… has been seen here, today. At this very festival.’
He paused for effect, and there were a few gasps from what remained of the crowd. Then he continued, ‘If you see this person, you are not to approach him, or talk to him, but come and find me, or a member of the Watch, or one of these two fine Kingsmen here.’
‘This is the man.’ He nodded to the two Kingsmen, who unrolled the large canvas they were carrying, to reveal the rough sketched portrait of a man.
Flick recognised the face instantly: it was Shea. She turned back to confront him, but he was gone.
14
Safe House
MAYOR GRIFFIN’S WORDS struck like blows from a fist. Shea quickly realised that his only chance to stay free, to stay alive, was to disappear, and fast. It was lucky that much of the crowd was already drifting back towards the town, but that poster would soon be on display everywhere. He had to admit that Flick was right; he never should have come here, and he cursed himself for his stupidity.
He carefully crept back into the cover of the trees and from there worked his way around to the side of the hill farthest from town. Here, a narrow track led down the hill towards the main road. Shea made a dash down this track, running with all his might, until he reached another break of trees. When he was safely back under cover, he paused, panting hard and wondering what to do next.
The Safe House! If anywhere was going to be safe, it was the Safe House. It was not far away, but it was also close to the mayor’s mansion and from what he’d heard, the mayor had lots of thugs who were probably out looking for him right now. He hoped they would be mostly up at the folly, and not looking so close to home. Shea smiled at the irony and set off through the woods.
He reached the door in Church Street some twenty minutes later, and knocked in a particular pattern; first once, then twice, and then finally three times. He stepped back and looked up and down the street, making sure he wasn’t being observed. Behind him was the churchyard, quiet and gloomy, the ancient grave stones sticking up like malevolent teeth, glowing red as they caught the late afternoon sun.
The door opened a crack and a middle aged woman peered out.
‘Yes?’ she asked.
‘A weary traveller seeks rest,’ Shea said, reciting the first part of a pass phrase he’d been taught in training.
‘There are inns for those that need them,’ came the reply.
‘For others there is no room,’ Shea said.