Felix Jones and The Dawn Of The Brethren

by Julian Roderick

Felix and Curly were woken by an almighty bang that shook them clean out of their bunks. Felix grabbed his guitar case and led Curly up to the wheel house. The black smoke engulfing the starboard side of the bow sent a shiver down Felix’s spine. Captain Smith was standing there with some of the ship’s officers and the four Guardians.

  “You said if we headed south we’d avoid the ice!” he bellowed at Felix.

  “I don’t think that’s the ice,” replied Felix. He stepped aside to give Captain Smith a full view of the smoke.

  “It’s them, isn’t it?” The captain knew that he would soon be in mortal danger. The Guardians drew their sabres and stood in front of the 1912 Keeper.

  “Can someone tell me what the hell is going on?” screamed Curly.

  “You’re about to meet the Typhon’s best friends,” replied Felix. “Just stay close to me and I’ll make sure you get home in one piece.” Felix drew his broadsword and handed Curly his guitar case. Curly stood open mouthed at the commotion.

  “Abandon ship!” shouted the captain. “She’s letting in too much water and we need to create a diversion for them.” He pointed at the cloaked figures walking across the foredeck with sabres drawn.

  “You do know you can’t save everyone?” Felix asked. “There’s not enough room in the lifeboats.”

  “Andrews!” shouted Captain Smith. A man in a suit crept in from the lookout deck. “Is what this man says true? We are able to put everyone in lifeboats, aren’t we?”

  “Well not exactly,” the man stuttered. “We didn’t think we’d need to. The Titanic is unsinkable.”

  “Tell that to those people down there,” said Curly. They looked out of the window at the mass of well-dressed people congregating near the lifeboat muster points. On the deck below that the third class passengers seeking a new life in America were wandering around bemused at the commotion. The hooded figures were climbing up on to the first class deck. They hacked at whatever stood in their way. People screamed and tried to flee from the blood stained silver blades.

  “The Keeper, Edward Smith, where are you?” the low gravelly voice shouted above the chaos in front of them. The Guardians looked at each other, then at Felix.

  “Have you fought the Brethren before?” asked Felix. The silence told him that both he and Curly were in trouble. “Just stand in a line and defend,” ordered Felix.

  “I am going to die one way or another,” stated Captain Smith stoically. “Either they will get to me or I’m going down with the ship. So let’s get on with it.” He pulled out a military sword from under the control counter and led the Guardians onto the deck. Felix followed on behind. Curly was now so frightened that he crouched behind Felix and followed like a puppy. As the first and second class passengers filed patiently on to awaiting lifeboats the Guardians and Captain Smith engaged the Brethren. Felix told Curly to wait in a doorway leading to the dining room and joined the captain in battle. Felix dived in between the Guardians as they bravely thwarted the Brethren’s attack. He drove his sword into the bodies of the first three Brethren monks. Curly couldn’t believe he was watching weedy Felix Jones killing creatures that dissolved into piles of dust and bone. He slapped his face and pinched his legs, he had to check if he was asleep or awake. Wallace Hartley was losing energy and the strength to fight on. One of the monks sensed his weakness and sliced the back of Hartley’s knees making him plunge to the floor. “Please get the captain out of here,” Hartley pleaded with Felix. The Brethren were overpowering the Guardians, whose inexperience was being brutally exposed. “Go!” screamed Hartley. Felix grabbed Captain Smith and slowly backed away from the battle. He collected Curly from the doorway and entered the dining room. He glanced through the window to see the last Guardian slump to the floor. The Brethren looked straight at Felix and strode towards the doorway.

  The ship groaned under the stress of the water flooding its lower decks. A crack appeared in the upper decks as the ship began to break in two. Captain Smith looked at Felix.

  “You go, save yourself. I’ll take them away from you and pass this on,” he said as he pulled his Book of Words from inside his jacket. Felix gave him a knowing nod. The cover of the captain’s Book now read:

  The Book of Words

  Keeper Frank Prentice

  Captain Smith ran back out of the dining room and into the path of the monks. He leapt over the metal barrier down to the deck below. The Brethren followed. The captain sprinted to a lifeboat, a member of the crew was being ordered to grab an oar. The front of the ship was almost submerged. The captain handed the crewman the Book and Felix could just make out Edward Smith mouthing, “You’ll figure it out as you go.” The captain moved away from the lifeboat, the Brethren pounced and the captain lay dead, about to go under with his unsinkable ship.

  Curly whimpered, “Can we go home now?”

  Felix fell to the floor as the ship shuddered and began leaning forward in preparation for its last voyage. He opened the Book. The clock was there, but the time was two hours later. Thinking on his feet, Felix started to climb up the sloping floor of the room. Curly once again followed his only hope of survival. Chairs, tables and people slid past them. Felix reached the top of a staircase that almost went horizontally across the ship instead of down.

  “We can’t go down there, we’ll die!” screamed Curly.

  “Trust me!” replied Felix. “It’s the only way out of here.”

  Curly nodded reluctantly and crawled, what used to be down, but was now across, the stairs. Felix was trying to kick down a cabin door. Curly tried the next cabin. Its door was unlocked.

  “In here!” shouted Curly. Freezing water started to fill the room. Felix looked around and let out a laugh.

  “Why are you still holding that?” he asked Curly. Curly patted the guitar case.

  “You told me too,” he smiled.

  They couldn’t have been in a worse place, a storeroom. There were wooden crates all over the place. Felix started smashing them looking for any picture to get them out of there. One crate held crockery, another furniture. The contents of the next stopped Felix dead in his tracks.

  Felix cried, “Come on!” He grabbed Curly and waded towards the window. Curly shrugged his shoulders at the sight before him.

  “Anywhere is better than this,” he whispered as the icy water rose over his waist.

  Felix gave Curly a boiled sweet. Curly hugged Felix as he jumped at the box. The last noise they heard before they disappeared was the hissing as the electric lights on the ship fused and went out.

  29

  Poppy spat the hot, dry sand out of her mouth. Luther looked in amazement at the desolate landscape that spread in all directions, all he could see were towering mountains of sand. Tom was stripped to his waist, his jumper tied round his head to protect him from the blazing sun. He smiled and offered what water was left in his bottle to his friends. Poppy rolled up her trousers and, like an over-protective mother, warned the half-dressed boys about sunburn. They sat wondering what to do next as beads of sweat dripped off their faces.

  Tom glanced at Luther, he knew that Luther was clueless as he had never experienced anything like this before.

  “Come on!” Tom shouted. Let’s get to the top and see what’s around.”

  With great effort, the trio climbed the dune – for every three steps up they took a long slide backwards through the loose sand. It seemed as if they would never get there. Eventually they reached the summit and emptied heaps of sand from their shoes. Desperate for water, the sight that met them was greeted by cheers and a charge down the other side. They ran from barren sand and scrub onto lush green pasture covered in white cows with sagging necks. Lines of crops led them to their goal. They sped towards the sparkling water of the meandering river at the centre of the valley. The parched friends knelt and gulped down handfuls of water before dipping their heads into the cool, refreshing lifesaver.

  “That’s better!” declared Poppy. She smiled at the boys.

  “What d
o we do now?” asked Luther.

  “Check the Book,” Tom ordered Luther.

  Luther opened The Book of Words and stared at the first page. He held it up to show Tom and Poppy.

  “We can’t read it. Only the Keeper can see what it says,” explained Poppy. “Read it to us!”

  Luther slowly repeated what he could see on the page before him:

  Location: Nile Valley, Egypt

  Time: Ancient Egypt

  Languages: Egyptian, Sky

  “Well at least we’re in the right place!” Tom sounded confident but he was never really sure where they would end up on their travels. Luther smiled at the success of his first planned journey as the Keeper.

  “We need to find out where Horus, Seth and Isis hang out,” said Poppy through a grin as she drew her sword and lunged forward pretending to kill someone.

  “We can’t take these anywhere!” Tom held his sabre. “We’ll stick out like sore thumbs and probably end up dead!”

  Poppy dived on the floor with her face down in the crumbling soil. The boys copied her without hesitation.

  “People!” she whispered. “We need to find some clothes to blend in. Jeans, shirts and trainers may be a bit much for Ancient Egypt.”

  Tom raised his head above the crops, took a peak and ducked back down. “Sheets seem to be the order of the day.” He took another look, “Or leather Speedos! I don’t know which looks worse.”

  “Whatever we’re doing we need to move from here.” Luther pointed to the people pouring across a rickety wooden bridge and into the fields. They held wooden tools and looked ready for a hard day of work. Tom began to panic as the Egyptian farmers closed in on their hiding place.

  “Over here!” he whispered as he tapped Luther’s shoulder. The three of them crawled towards a ditch. Tom rolled in without looking. Luther and Poppy burst out laughing as they looked down and saw Tom up to his neck in water, the top of his head covered in plants. The noise of the farmers’ chatter was getting closer. Poppy and Luther slowly slid into the water channel alongside Tom. The channel was as straight as a ruler and went across the valley as far as they could see. Before they could decide what to do, the still water began to flow away from the river. They struggled to hold on to the bank as the initial burst of water hit them. Tom began pulling himself against the current towards the river.

  “Why are we going against the water?” asked Luther. Poppy was equally as puzzled by Tom’s actions.

  “Whatever we need to find is the other side of the Nile across that bridge!” he shouted as he continued the struggle towards the river.

  They could hear the farmers singing as they worked. Poppy and Tom couldn’t understand a word of the strange language. Luther smiled.

  “What’s up?” asked Poppy.

  “They’re singing to the great beings from above and thanking them for the knowledge to produce such an amount of food, I think!” Luther was as shocked as Felix had been when he realised that he could understand and speak any language he heard.

  “Must be singing to the gods!” laughed Tom. He held his finger to his lips as they reached the end of the channel. A big wooden machine was clunking away above them. Suddenly a huge spoon-like object whizzed above their heads and covered them in water that created a wave heading into the valley towards the farms. Once they had got their breath back the three friends looked at each other, wondering what had just happened.

  “Watch out!” screamed Poppy as the spoon poured another load onto their heads.

  “It’s like a wave machine,” Luther said.

  “It’s a Shaduf!” Tom declared. “We did this in History in our first year. They use it to take water from the Nile into these irrigation channels and they use it to water the crops.”

  Once again they were submerged beneath a wave. “What’s that smell?” asked Poppy.

  “It’s the donkeys being used to power the machinery, no electricity in Ancient Egypt!” quipped Tom.

  Tom slowly raised his head over the bank. He could see the donkeys going round and round, turning a wheel that was linked to cogs that made the giant ladle plunge into the river before raising it and dumping the water into the channel. He laughed at his friends getting submerged by wave after wave of newly delivered water. Tom summoned them to follow him and crawled slowly out of the channel.

  He grabbed two of the white outfits that were hanging over the fence surrounding the donkeys. Poppy and Luther joined him behind the water trough. Poppy slipped the white cloak over her clothes, Luther did the same. Tom emerged from behind a stack of hay looking like Tarzan in a pair of tight leather shorts. After the laughter had died down, Tom took the weapons and the Book from his friends and hid them under the trough.

  “We’ll come back once we’ve got a plan.” Tom wasn’t sure what to expect, and without Felix’s logical mind to back him up he wanted to be very careful. They crept towards the small gate. The donkeys, not used to having company, began braying loudly. The animals sped up on their circular route around the wooden cog, much to their keeper’s surprise. The Shaduf began groaning and creaking under the added speed, and pieces of wood splintered from the cogs. People were running towards the commotion. The three intruders slipped through the gate and headed to the rickety wooden bridge.

  They ran across as the locals stood wondering what had spooked the donkeys. Some angry looking men had started some basic repairs to the damaged machinery. Tom led Luther and Poppy to a gap in the large mud bank that lined the river. Beyond lay a bustling town. Small white houses were scattered in no particular pattern along stone streets. People were going about their everyday business, shopping, trading and meeting. Behind the houses were four magnificent buildings, all white with gold roofs, and behind them a massive object that looked as though it was made of metal.

  “That’s where we need to be,” said Poppy as she charged down the street. She always became more confident in dangerous situations, and the boys struggled to keep up. Luther’s legs kept getting tangled in his flowing robe and Tom was worried that his shorts would fall apart. The sweating trio tore around a corner and came to an abrupt halt. In a vast open space before the gold topped buildings stood lines of men, all clad in leather shorts, all holding a rope and heaving in the same direction. At the end of the rope were three huge intricately carved colourful statues. Each was at a different angle as the ropes pulled them skywards at different rates. Tom’s jaw dropped. He realised that the slave drivers whipping each line into shape were men dressed in brown leather cloaks. He turned to Poppy and they both announced to Luther, “The Brethren!”

  30

  “Please wake me up!” pleaded Curly.

  The sweat poured off his nose as the burning sun blinded the boys. The scorching sand began to burn their legs as they sat pondering their current situation. Felix stripped down to his shirt and rolled his trousers up to his knees.

  “How many times? This isn’t a dream!” Felix was losing his patience with his oafish companion.

  “I’m going to kill you when this is over Jones!”

  “If the desert doesn’t kill us first!” replied Felix in despair. “You got any water under your blazer?”

  “Do I look like the sort of bloke that carries lunch?” snapped Curly.

  “Great! We’re going to die and the last person I get to see is you!”

  “Use your flaming magic book to get us out of here!” spluttered Curly. His tongue was so dry it stuck to the roof of his mouth. Felix sighed and pulled The Book of Words from his pocket. He opened it and threw it at Curly.

  “You know I can’t read it,” croaked Curly as he threw it back. Felix was fading fast in the scorching heat and his travelling companion was making him wish he’d stayed on the Titanic. He wearily opened the Book to the first page. The information came as no great surprise to Felix but Curly wanted to know what it said. Felix whispered the Book’s revelation:

  Location Sahara Desert, Egypt

  Date Ancient Egypt

&n
bsp; Language Egyptian, Sky

  “What the hell is Sky?” asked Curly.

  “Never mind that, we need to find water,” replied Felix. He turned, more in hope than expectation, to page two, where he normally found a helpful map. Felix thought it would be blank as the Sahara was a featureless expanse of sand. What he saw made a huge smile returned to his face.

  “What now?” Curly put his face in his hands and began sobbing.

  Felix took a deep breath and started climbing the dune behind them. Curly, lacking any get up and go, crawled slowly after him.

  Felix reached the top and screamed, “We’re saved!” Curly stood up and ran as fast as he could up the sand hill to join Felix. The pair sat for a moment to take in some air and empty their sand-filled shoes.

  “Come on!” beckoned Felix. He opened up his guitar case, pulled out his Keeper’s sword and laid the case on the sand. He gave his guitar to Curly. The pair squeezed into the case and used it as a sledge. They hurtled down the dune towards the oasis that would save their lives.

  The small pool was surrounded by palm trees. Curly jumped straight in and began slurping mouthfuls of water. Felix knew what was likely to happen and slowly sipped handfuls of the life-saving liquid. As Felix had predicted, Curly ran towards a tree and threw up all that he had drunk.

  “Take your time!” said Felix. “We’re in no rush.”

  Once the pair of sun-scorched travellers had quenched their thirst, they relaxed in the shade of the palm trees.

  “What now? Do we sit and wait for a plane to fly over and light a fire?” Curly asked with enthusiasm.

  “Which part of Ancient Egypt didn’t you hear?” snapped Felix. “We’re more likely to see pigs flying than an aeroplane you muppet!”

  Filled with rage, Curly stood up and dragged Felix into the open.

  “Nobody makes fun of me and gets away with it!” he screamed. Covered in sweat, even before he had moved one step, Curly charged at Felix. The Keeper stepped to one side, Curly stumbled and fell face first into the sand. Even more enraged he charged again. Felix ran to the tree and stood waiting with his sword pointing purposefully at Curly.