Maximus Thatcher

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Maximus Thatcher Page 29

by Robert Miller


  “Exciting,” said Gabriel, taking another big puff of his cigar.

  “Very,” Stuart agreed.

  “Do you know my name?” he puffed again.

  “Yes, Sir,” Stuart replied, as politely as possible.

  “What the Minister has given up, sending you to me,” he said with satisfaction.

  Stuart shifted his gaze from Gabriel and back to the floor when there came the announcement of the next event, watching as the archers took their place. A finely-toned woman took the arena. Gabriel’s eye focused on Stuart as he observed the girl’s features. She was the same age as Stuart and looked like something out of a fairy tale. She had perfect features and large, soft eyes which she focused on her target. Her archery skills amazed Stuart, as she drew back on her bow, releasing a flurry of arrows, each striking the target with extraordinary precision.

  “I am the best,” he continued, returning his gaze to Stuart.

  Gabriel nodded towards his guard, who approached them.

  “Will you accompany me to my mansion?”

  Stuart had no choice. If he missed this opportunity it was back to the Ministry.

  “It would be a pleasure,” he replied.

  “This way,” Gabriel countered, following his head of security. Stuart walked beside him as the other security guards engulfed the two of them, forming a circle around them as they headed back down the tunnel.

  Gabriel did not talk; he rather concentrated on his powerful stride as he drew his shoulders back and followed his guards.

  Mid-way through the tunnel a door opened and the guards stood aside as Gabriel walked through with Stuart right behind him.

  The scene changed immediately, with gleaming rubies lining the floor and rich sculptures running through the corridor and dining hall. It wasn’t hard to believe this man was absurdly wealthy.

  Stuart continued to follow Gabriel as he walked up the ruby-set stairs and into his office. The full details of his office took a good minute to take in before Stuart took a seat in front of the huge desk. Behind the desk hung two swords and a shield, symbolising the creation of the games. They were old and had been used by the first champion of the arena, something Gabriel cherished.

  Other feature of the room that caught Stuart’s eye was a big crocodile skull inserted into the wall, with sharp teeth and a wide jaw that made him cringe involuntarily.

  A weapons case filled with old and worn swords, spears, bows and large daggers covered a wide shelf.

  It was quite easy to spot a small keypad and a hand print device on the wall next to the skull. Stuart quickly looked away, aware of the guards’ scrutiny.

  A large fire was lit, providing the necessary heat to the room. Stuart studied the design of the fireplace, with its small, strange creatures on either side, providing support to the structure as if they carried the weight of the stone fireplace. Their bodies were similar to those of humans, but stripped of all hair and horrifyingly ugly to Stuart. The monsters looked up as if the light of the fireplace provided hope for them. Wavy patterns ran up from the creatures to the mantelpiece, where a large painting rested. It appeared to be Gabriel and his family, his wife and daughter embracing him with love. The daughter had all the looks of her mother and a strong expression in her eye that she had inherited from her father.

  Stuart looked up, recognising her as the archer in the arena. In a way it made sense to him; she was only entered into the events where her body was at no risk, probably thanks to her father’s over-protection. She was brought up with archery, provided with the best instructors who shaped her from a young age.

  He could tell Gabriel’s eyes were on him, watching as he studied the painting. He felt uncomfortable and returned his eyes to the desk.

  “You are very observant, aren’t you?” said Gabriel, eyeing him speculatively.

  “I don’t want to miss anything that can help me, if needed,” he replied, cautiously.

  Gabriel leaned back in his chair, satisfied with what the Ministry had sent him.

  “Do you have family?” asked Gabriel.

  “Parents and one brother,” he replied, thinking back to the guard warning him not to bring up anything to do with the subject.

  “The feeling you get to protect them, to fight for them and do anything for them. I want you to have that feeling for me. This will be your family, you will fight for me.” Gabriel looked him intensely in the eye.

  Gabriel opened one of his drawers and revealed an envelope that he slid across the table. Stuart took it and opened it. He pinched out a piece of paper from the envelope and read it.

  It was a mix of letters and numbers eight figures long; at first Stuart didn’t know what to do with it until he realised that it was a code.

  “A little trial. You pass and you’re in. Recover my crate of weapons and use that code to get to the location. There’s another code on the reverse of that paper to get you back. Now, go,” he said laying out the challenge.

  Stuart reversed the paper and recorded the second code. He then looked back to the first and evaporated as he relocated to a dark alleyway.

  Anxiety crept up on him, not only for trusting someone he didn’t know but also for allowing himself to get into this situation in the first place.

  It was dark and quiet as he took his first steps. The rain became insistent and started to get on his nerves as puddles formed throughout the alleyway. He was starting to re-think his idea of Gabriel and their association with every step he took.

  He eased his way to the end of the alley, keeping every sense on high alert. He peered around the corner to see a long street filled with stores. He studied the pedestrians from head to toe. There appeared to be only one type of person walking the streets: the rich and well-dressed, ready to buy whatever interested them. The store managers looked suspicious as they skulked around the customers.

  He walked out of the shadow of the alleyway, judging it safe. He took another look at the shops and the street suddenly seemed much darker than he had first thought. He knew exactly where this place was; he had never been here before and hadn’t thought he would have the chance.

  The black market was not something to take lightly and he looked around cautiously, not trusting a single person. He read through the labels: gems, diamonds, blacksmith, dark objects and escaping tools, which he stopped at curiously.

  “Look at this,” said a man walking by. The man’s double-edged sword swung through the air as he pointed out the shop before disappearing out of range of Stuart’s hearing.

  Stuart grinned as he made his way to the only weapons dealer on the street.

  “’Extraordinary Weapons’,” he muttered as he read the sign before walking through the door.

  Shelves and shelves of weapons lined the racks as he made his way to the counter. He had never seen so many different types of weapons and tools, all labelled for show.

  “May I help you?” said a large man behind the counter. Startled, Stuart half-jumped and turned to face him. He was a big man, more fat than muscle and he waddled around from behind the counter.

  “I am here to pick up a delivery for Mr. Gabriel,” said Stuart sturdily, trying to sound tougher than he actually was.

  “Oh, the new shipment of swords,” replied the fat man, looking down at a case on the floor. Gems had been built into the hilts of all the swords, a different colour illustrating which power the sword held.

  Stuart looked down at the sheet explaining each weapon. Red for fire, blue for ice and a white gem for invisibility. They were the best weapons of their era.

  “Now tell me, my boy, who are you?” said the man, whistling sharply. At the tone eight men came in through a door Stuart had clearly missed. They each grabbed weapons off the rack, swiftly advancing on him.

  “I think you have the wrong idea!” Stuart bellowed as he stumbled back.

  “He wouldn’t send a boy to do a man’s job,” the man glared over the counter.

  For the second time that day, Stuart found hims
elf in a situation he didn’t like. He admitted it was a thrill, but eight fighting men approaching with weapons and intentions to kill was no joke.

  He used a couple of seconds to formulate a mental plan as they approached. First, he would pick up the mace on the left to swing and break the leg of the first approaching man. Second, he would throw it, knocking down the second man as the mace hit him in the chest. He would continue to teleport to the left column of weapons, blocking the sword swung by the hilt, flipping the man into the stack.

  The fourth man would attack from the side, allowing Stuart to jump back as the man’s sword hit the rack, giving him the opportunity to strike the man’s mid-section, kicking his feet from beneath him.

  He would then draw another skinny sword from the closest rack and use both swords to block the two men attacking, flicking their swords to the side and slashing at both their mid-sections with a dual movement.

  That meant that two personnel would remain; one running for the door and the other searching for the right weapon. Teleporting to the outside of the door to kick the escapee to the ground, sticking the sword in the wooden floor next to his head.

  Then teleporting again, grabbing the last man by the back of the head and pushing it down towards the sharp swords sticking up.

  Stuart had all the time in the world going over the sequence in his head. He came back to a reality that was much quicker than in his mind, but he went through the entire plan perfectly as if every detail in his mind was set. Panting, he stood before the counter looking at the large man’s shocked face.

  “He sent a man to do this job,” Stuart replied, mocking the man as he walked over to the case of weapons and grabbed it.

  “Mr. Gabriel sends his thanks,” said Stuart, teleporting with the second code. Then he was in the dining hall of the mansion and the guards once again circled him.

  “It’s just me!” he yelled, watching the men sheath their weapons.

  He walked to Gabriel’s office as the guards secured the case. He opened the door after a knock and sat in the same chair as previously, waiting for Gabriel to finish on the phone.

  “No, of course I didn’t send the boy to take you out,” said Gabriel on the phone, going quiet as he listened to the reply.

  “My apologies. Thank you for your services,” he said, hanging up the phone.

  He looked at the boy in disbelief, certain now that he had the right person for the job.

  “You have caused me some trouble. Eight men you hospitalised, and don’t forget the mad owner,” he said sternly.

  “Sorry,” Stuart replied, lowering his head as if he was in a lot of trouble.

  “Don’t be. They were not my men. I need someone like you, Stuart, someone trustworthy and hardworking. What do you say?” he offered.

  Stuart smiled for the second time today, realising now that his hard work had paid off.

  “Thank you, Sir.”

  Gabriel opened the same drawer as he had before, pulling out a bigger envelope and handing it to Stuart. Stuart ripped it open and tipped the contents all over the desk. A very flash phone, two bundles of money and a third code fell out. He looked at Gabriel with a keen eye.

  “I want you to have that phone on you day and night, so if I need to get a hold of you I can. It will also be in your interest to store the codes I give you so you can use them again. The bundle of money in front of you is for a couple of top of the range suits. Keep the leftovers for pocket money. Don’t forget some watches and an expensive necklace, I want the people who work for me to look top drawer,” said Gabriel, satisfied with his brief.

  “What is the third code for?”

  “You have the codes for the black markets, my mansion and the stadium.”

  Stuart nodded as he began putting the contents on the desk and the three codes back into the envelope.

  “Is there anything else?”

  “One more thing,” said Gabriel, handing him another envelope.

  “What’s this?” Stuart opened the envelope and pulled out a code for the location of a small town. Stuart looked at it with some confusion.

  “It is the location of the Dark Lord’s men, which is why you’re here, isn’t it?” questioned Gabriel.

  Stuart looked up in shock, getting ready for an attack. He was sure his pounding heart could be heard from across the desk.

  “I am,” he quivered.

  “And you’re here from the Ministry to keep tabs, aren’t you.”

  “You’re well informed,” Stuart replied, slowly rising from his chair in readiness for escape.

  “Sit down,” Gabriel ordered and Stuart did so, wondering what was happening. “You work for me now. You tell the Ministry what I tell you to say,” he paused, waiting for a nod.

  Stuart was now clear on his outlines. He couldn’t believe how much he knew.

  “Now your first mission is to find Maximus, take him to this address and return on completion.”

  He agreed, this decision outweighing his original remit from the Ministry. He knew his life was no longer in danger. He twisted the door-knob, breathing in deeply as he walked from the room. He questioned whether Max’s location was real or just another trap.

  Chapter 23

  The Island

  Time had continued as Max lay lifeless. A spark flashed through his eyelids, as if trying to kick-start his engine. He drew another breath, a barrier protecting him from any debris from the cliffside above. His skin felt dry, his mouth parched, and his eyelids could only twitch with the passing sun. His powers had been practically torn away from his grasp; his mind scrambled by the overwhelming power of the Dark Lord.

  He inhaled softly, trying to ease the pain from his throat, his chest barely rising with the breath. Consciousness came and went as glimpses of the rocky cliff came into view. Sickness engulfed his body, fighting the need for food and water.

  The poison bubbled beneath the surface of his body, forcing a cough that was as dry as the sand. Max slowly opened his eyes in a squint, barely able to comprehend the picture of two men approaching, too weak to respond. It was finally the end. No regrets, no tears, just the hopeless thought that he had failed to destroy the Dark Lord.

  “Paul,” he whispered, as darkness took him once again.

  He awoke to the soft sensation of a bed, instantly frantic as he came to. His eyes rolled from side to side as he struggled to regain control of his body. It was hard; every muscle asleep from his rest. His body slowly allowed him to his feet but he wobbled, gripping onto the bedpost.

  “Where am I?” he murmured.

  His view of the room was completely blurred and he shuffled around like a blind man, swinging his arms in an effort to find a wall to brace against.

  “Calm yourself,” spoke a soft voice.

  He twisted around to see a small girl, but she must be in his dream, because she was suddenly no longer there.

  He sifted through thoughts of his time with the Dark Lord. His determination had failed him, destroying the simmering hope among every student at the Elementrix that he might save Jimmy.

  He threw himself towards the window, tearing the curtains open. It was dark outside, and he didn’t recognise his surroundings. Panic spread as arms grabbed him from behind, guiding him back to his bed.

  “Get back!” he howled, as he tried to yank his arms free.

  “It’s me!” replied Chris, holding him until he stopped struggling. The girl, who Max now realised was his young sister, returned with a jug of water, pouring two glasses.

  “What happened?” croaked Max.

  “Stuart and I found you at the bottom of the cliff, dying,” explained Chris, going through the sequence.

  “Your body was infected with a rare poison; it took my grandfather days to find a cure.”

  Max sat on the edge of his bed, taking in large gulps of water as he tried to rationalise Chris’s story. He felt drained, with no energy to talk.

  “I’m Lena,” said Chris’s sister, smiling as she refilled his
cup.

  “Rest,” said Chris, quietly leaving the room in great relief.

  Max awoke the next morning feeling better than he had the previous day, following Chris from the room in order to be introduced to his grandfather.

  “Welcome, Maximus,” greeted the old man.

  Max could see the blindness in his eyes and was taken aback when he realised who the old man was. They had met before, on the bridge in the city. He was the blind man who had helped him with his power.

  “Bill!” he laughed, gripping the man’s hand. Chris looked on in confusion.

  “How do you know him?” he asked.

  “Long story,” replied Max.

  Max felt again Bill’s deep wisdom and once again compared him to his Uncle Jade. The feeling of being a student with his master came across Max as he stood next to Chris.

  “How has the ring held up?” asked Bill, inspecting Max’s neck.

  “You can’t see it,” replied Max, pulling away.

  “He can see better than both of us,” replied Chris.

  “Explain?”

  “His power is the ability to sense.”

  “And that’s why I know about your hidden power, why I gave you something to shield you from the darkness,” explained Bill.

  Max had come to realise that the invisible ring had saved him more than once, allowing him to build his power within as he grew stronger and stronger, unnoticed by everyone around him.

  “If the Dark Lord knew what you were really hiding he wouldn’t have left a body,” said Bill.

  Everything suggested to Max that it was more than just a coincidence that he was here.

  “How did I get here?”

  “Once I heard the news that you had gone, I searched. It wasn’t until Stuart pointed us in the right direction that I could sense your presence. It was faint, but you were still alive,” said Bill.

  “From there we brought you back to our safe house,” added Chris.

  “What happens now?”

  “We unlock your potential,” said Bill with a smile.

 

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