Felix Jones and The Dawn Of The Brethren

by Julian Roderick

  “Let’s get one thing straight!” exclaimed Felix as Curly skidded to a halt. “While we are here and together I’m in charge. You haven’t got a clue what’s going on, so button it and do as you’re told.”

  “Once we’re back home I’ll get you Jones!” snarled Curly. He had some sense of admiration for Felix and the way he knew about the situation they were in, but he would not lose face to someone who he thought was weaker than him. The pair once again took shelter under the tree.

  “We’ll stay here for the night, when it’s cool, then move on in the morning,” explained Felix.

  “Where on earth are we going?” asked Curly.

  “On the map there is a town about three miles that way,” Felix pointed towards another huge dune.

  “What’s so special about that town?” asked Curly.

  “Well, one, there is a big river going through it and two, there are two red swords there!” answered Felix.

  “So?”

  “Well if we’re in Ancient Egypt there shouldn’t be any Guardians,” explained Felix. “We’ll find out if they are friend or foe tomorrow.”

  He handed Curly his jumper. “It’s too hot!”

  “It’ll be freezing once it goes dark,” stated Felix. “You’ll need it.”

  The sun began to disappear below the dunes. The colour of the sand appeared to change from yellow to every imaginable shade of pink. Even Curly was in awe of the magnificent sight of a desert sunset. Dark descended in an instant and the pair put their jumpers on as the temperature plummeted quickly. They curled up under the tree and after their exhausting day they were asleep in seconds.

  31

  “It can’t be!” exclaimed Poppy.

  “Well, they have to come from somewhere!” replied Tom.

  “Who are the Brethren?” Luther was becoming more and more confused.

  “Trust me you’ll find out. They’re a pest,” whispered Poppy.

  “They want the Book of Words,” added Tom.

  Luther asked the question they all wanted answered, “Why?”

  “That’s what we’re here to find out,” replied Poppy.

  The three of them stood watching the wonder of ancient engineering before them. Pulleys and wooden wedges were being used to hoist the huge statues skyward. The Brethren whipped the sweat-covered slaves to keep them working in the soaring temperatures. If a slave dropped down through exhaustion they were whipped again and dragged off towards a large wooden shed. One of the brutal Brethren turned towards the onlookers and his bright blue eyes stared straight at them. Not a bone or sinew in sight. They were human!

  Tom and Poppy stared in disbelief as the hooded man spoke in a strange language. Luther turned to them and explained that the nice soldier would like to know what they were doing there. Luther waited for a reply to come from Tom. He looked at the Guardian in expectation but the silence was deafening.

  “I can’t speak to you,” whispered Tom through closed lips. “I’m dressed like them. The slaves!”

  “We’re out for a walk, stretching our legs,” said Luther in perfect Ancient Egyptian.

  “Go back to your crops, farmer,” snapped the Brethren soldier.

  “We’re going back over the bridge,” Luther told the others as he turned and began to walk towards the river.

  “I don’t think we are!” said Poppy.

  A large group of angry farmers were crossing the river and waving and pointing at them. At the head of the mob was a small boy pointing and shouting at the three interlopers. They were trapped between the Brethren and the farmers.

  Tom thought desperately, he tried to think of what Felix would do in this situation. All he could think of was to shout, “RUN!”

  Poppy threw her white cloak away and followed Tom. Luther took a while longer to realise that he was actually in danger before he followed, stumbling over his cloak as he tried to take it off. Tom was far ahead of the others, hurdling the rope and pushing the Brethren out of the way. Slaves cheered as he evaded capture. He reached the large building, he could feel the heat reflecting off its walls. It was made of metal. He wondered for a second how the Egyptians had managed to forge this much metal, but the sound of his pursuers made him move on rapidly.

  Poppy tripped over a rope between two slaves. One of them tried to help her up but the crack of a whip sent him back to his position on the rope. She felt the firm grip of a strong hand on her shoulder, she was caught. The Brethren soldier was screaming at her, spit from his mouth splattered her face. She kicked him in the shin hoping he would release her but it was as if the soldier felt nothing. Two more of the hooded men came and dragged her off towards the white buildings. Luther was being dragged in front of her. He had gone less than three steps before his attempt to de-robe had brought his downfall. At least he had the advantage of being able to talk to his captors. He spoke but they ignored him.

  “Where are they taking us?” cried Poppy.

  “We’re off to see the big bosses,” replied Luther. “We’re strange looking and a threat to them apparently!”

  “Who do they think we are?” asked Poppy as she scowled at the Brethren.

  “They think we’ve come to take away their power,” Luther shrugged, not having the faintest idea what it meant. The Brethren took them in through a huge gold-coloured door. At each side of the entrance stood three guards dressed in Brethren robes and holding long spears tipped with gold.

  “They must get really hot in those leather coats,” said Luther.

  “I must ask them how they cope,” replied Poppy, rolling her eyes at her friend.

  No sooner had they entered the building than the Brethren opened a trapdoor at the side of the corridor and threw them into the dark space below.

  Tom ran far beyond the town and up the nearest sand dune. The Brethren stood at the edge of the town laughing at him. They knew the desert would be as hard a prison as anywhere they could have put him. All he had was the pair of leather shorts he had stolen from the donkey shed. He had nothing to protect him from the sun and no water. Tom realised that he would either become dehydrated and die, or freeze to death as the temperature dropped at night. The sun was getting lower in the sky with every step he took into the yellow expanse of nothingness. He went up and over a couple of dunes. The sand began to turn pink as the sun began to disappear below the horizon. In the dusk he could make out the shape of some trees. He made his way towards the outlines and splash! He walked straight into a pool of cold water.

  Tom thanked whoever was looking down on him for the water that he was gulping down. He started to shiver. He had watched a documentary on survival with Felix a couple of weeks ago and He remembered something about digging out a hole and covering yourself in sand and anything else you could find. He scooped out a hole, wondering whether he was digging his own grave. All around him he found long thick pointed leaves that he could use as a blanket. He had seen Poppy and Luther being dragged off to the white building but rescuing them would have to wait until morning. Tom lay in the hole, buried himself in sand and lay the leaves on top as an extra covering. He soon started to warm up, thoughts of the Brethren began to disappear and before long he was sound asleep.

  32

  The noise of animals shuffling around the oasis for their daily watering gave Felix a restless night. His mind was whizzing with questions and worries. What would they find at the town? Who had The Guardians’ sabres? Would any of these animals eat them? Curly lay next to him, his snores kept most of the nocturnal visitors away. He was at last proving useful. Felix drifted in and out of sleep, the cold kept waking him up. He also remembered the documentary he had watched with Tom and dug a shallow hole and buried himself in the sand. It was warmer but his brain wondered what was going to happen to them tomorrow. Would the town bring safety or danger?

  The silence of dawn was broken by a loud scream. Felix sprang to his feet and grabbed his sword. Curly was rolling around on the floor screaming. His trousers were round his ankles and he was
clutching his leg. Felix looked around to see what could have caused the commotion. There, scurrying off into the desert, was a huge scorpion.

  “It bit me!” screeched Curly, pointing to a red mark on his thigh.

  “What do you want me to do?” asked Felix.

  “You’re the know-it-all,” snapped Curly. He burst into tears. “I’m going to die!”

  Felix opened the Book and asked how he should deal with a scorpion bite. To his surprise, he read:

  Let the big oaf die! Lol

  “You’re dead!” laughed Felix.

  “It’s not funny.” Curly now lay as still as he could. He had seen in a film that blood flowed slower and poison took longer to kill you if you didn’t move.

  “Right! There’s only one thing for it,” announced Felix. “I’ll have to suck the poison out.”

  “What?”

  “I have to bite in and suck,” declared Felix.

  Just as Felix was about to stick his teeth into Curly’s thigh they heard a familiar but unexpected sound. It was sniggering!

  “Who’s there?” shouted Felix.

  “Never mind that, save me,” pleaded Curly. Tears poured from his eyes.

  The sniggering became loud uncontrollable laughter.

  “Show yourself,” ordered Felix pointing his sword towards the tree. Felix thought it was strange that he was still speaking English.

  Curly screamed as the figure stepped out from its hiding place. It was covered in dirt from head to foot and only wore only a pair of leather shorts. The tears of laughter left white tracks down its face.

  “Tom!” shrieked Felix. He dropped his sword and gave his best friend a huge hug. Curly lay under the tree motionless.

  “Save me!” he whimpered again.

  “You’ll be fine,” said Tom. In his hand he held a leaf stalk. “This is all that bit you!”

  “What?” Curly squeaked. Felix began giggling as he realised what Tom had done.

  “Even the scorpion doesn’t like your taste!” said Tom. “I put it on the sand and it started running then I poked this stalk into your leg!”

  “But! You nearly... I’ll kill you two when we get home!” Curly shouted at Tom and Felix.

  “I thought this was all a dream,” laughed Felix. Curly pulled his jeans back up and stomped off to the pool to wash and drink.

  “How did you get here?” asked Felix.

  Tom spent the next ten minutes telling Felix about Luther and his appearance in the Channel Tunnel. Felix listened quietly and nodded.

  “So where are Luther and Poppy now?”

  “That’s a bit embarrassing,” replied Tom. “The Brethren have them in a town about an hour that way.” He pointed towards a dune. His footprints made an easy path for them to follow back to the river.

  “The Brethren!” exclaimed Felix.

  “They’re real people here- nasty - but real people,” replied Tom.

  “Can we get them out?” asked Felix. As he finished his question a hand grabbed him by the scruff of the neck and lifted him off the floor.

  “Get me out of here!” shouted Curly. “I don’t care how, but get me out of here now!”

  “I can’t!”

  “Use that magic book,” ordered Curly.

  “We have to get Poppy first,” said Tom.

  “I don’t care about her, just get us home now!”

  Felix opened the Book. There were two clocks on the map, right in the middle of the town.

  “The only way we can get home is to go to the town,” explained Felix. “Strange that there are two clocks,” he added.

  “You two will stick out like sore thumbs,” laughed Tom.

  “I’m not wearing a pair of those,” declared Curly pointing at Tom’s leather shorts.

  “We’ll have to find something when we get there,” said Felix.

  “Let’s go,” ordered Curly.

  “Who put him in charge?” asked Tom.

  “I’ve told you I don’t know how many times that, until we get home, do and say nothing stupid. Just trust us!” Felix reminded Curly. “We will get you home but there are rules we have to follow.”

  “If anything happens to me my dad will get you Jones. And you Matthews!” Curly once again stomped off.

  Tom fashioned some water containers out of the dried leaves, the makeshift bowls leaked a little but they would have to do. Curly gratefully took one, he had calmed down and was finally accepting Felix was the only one who could get him out of the desert and Egypt. They set off for the town before the sun had reached its full height, knowing that they would struggle to cope in the midday heat.

  In just under an hour the boys reached the last dune before the Nile Valley. They crawled up to the summit and peered down on the magnificent scene below. The bright sunlight shimmered off the gold roofs of the large white buildings. The reflection from the metal object was blinding. Lines of slaves filed out of wooden sheds and into the large empty space where the ropes attached to the statues lay on the ground. The Brethren, distinctive in their brown hooded cloaks, were cracking their whips already.

  “How do we get across the valley without being seen?” asked Curly.

  “There, where the dune gets right up to the meander in the river. We can crawl down there, cross the river and work our way back up to the town through the crops,” stated Felix.

  “I knew there was a reason I was your mate.” Tom smiled, happy that he no longer had to come up with the plans.

  They kept their heads down and made their way along the dune. When they heard running water they crawled back to the top. There below them was the Nile. Only a roll down the dune and a short swim, and they would have some shelter in the fields.

  “One problem,” said Curly. “I can’t swim!”

  33

  Poppy didn’t know which way was up or down. Their new prison was pitch black. Luther groaned, the fall had shaken him.

  “Luther, is that you?” whispered Poppy.

  “If I’m alive, then yes,” he replied. “Where are we?”

  “I don’t know, but this is either going to be a long stay or a quick death.”

  “If it is anything like our experience, then it will be a long stay!” said a strange but familiar voice.

  “Who’s there?” asked Poppy. A dim light approached and suddenly lit up the small circular chamber. Once her eyes had adjusted to the light, Poppy could see tunnels leading off in different directions. She could make out a hunched, cloaked figure behind the flickering candle flame.

  “Well, young lady you should recognise me. I see you most days,” declared the stranger.

  The penny dropped, “Wonky! I mean… Headmaster!”

  “Yes, it’s me!”

  “What are you doing here?” she asked.

  “If only I knew!” replied the shadowy figure. “Come with me. We’ve made life a little more comfortable down here.”

  “We?” asked Luther.

  They followed Wonky Donkey down one of the tunnels. The air was cold and surprisingly damp. They wandered a little way down the narrow corridor until it opened up into a rectangular shaped cavern. Sitting in the corner with his head in his hands was another prisoner.

  “Where are your manners Beauchamp?” the Headmaster enquired.

  “Mr Beauchamp the fencing man?” asked Poppy.

  “Yes it’s me,” whispered Mr Beauchamp.

  “What are you doing here?” Poppy hadn’t finished asking the question before the fencing teacher started sobbing uncontrollably.

  “It’s his French ancestry. Very emotional the Celts!” explained Wonky.

  “I keep telling you, we’ll wake up and it’ll all be a dream!” cried Mr Beauchamp.

  “No such luck I’m afraid,” Luther piped up. He introduced himself and sat down on a seat that had been carved into the cavern wall.

  “Beauchamp, get our guests a drink,” ordered Wonky. The distraught man disappeared down another tunnel and returned with a jug of water as fresh as the wat
er in the Nile. Luther and Poppy gulped down as much as they could.

  “Well young lady, how did you get here?” asked the Headmaster.

  “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” she replied.

  “Well if it’s anything like what happened to us after going in the pub, we’d believe anything,” shouted Beauchamp.

  “Tell us how you got here,” suggested Poppy.

  “Well if you’re staying for dinner, we may have enough time,” chortled Wonky.

  “I think we’ll stay.” Poppy winked at Luther and joined him on the seat.

  “I don’t know how long we’ve been here, but it’s been a few weeks.” Wonky started his tale.

  “I was working in my office when I received a phone call inviting me to give a talk to our local Typhon group. I’d never heard of them so I asked what they did. I was told they were a group of businessmen who were interested in investing in local charities and schools so I thought why not?”

  “Didn’t you do any research?” asked Poppy.

  “You sound like my old mother!” Wonky’s head leaned to the right, showing he was happy and this was his attempt at humour. Poppy relaxed and listened carefully.

  “I prepared a speech about the good work the school does and our future plans, and I set off across the common to the Railway Public House. As I got there the car park was full of men that looked as if they might be bouncers at a night club. I was a bit worried that they may not be legitimate businessmen. I was ushered into the back room where these four hooded creatures were waiting there with Higgins senior. They thought I was something to do with a Keeper of a Book. I explained I had a library full of books in school. They dragged me back across the common to the school library and tore the place apart, but they couldn’t find the one they were looking for. They went crazy and grabbed me, then ran up to the common and pulled me into the pond. The next thing I knew I was in the Nile Valley and being thrown in here!”