Chosen Ones (11 page)

Julia sat down on a log. A dark green tunic, just her size, was draped over its branches. She looked around and noticed that the others were already shedding their black robes and changing into the tunics. Camouflage. The robes were being buried in a shal ow hole back in the trees: they would leave no evidence.

She changed quickly, discarding the heavy brocades of the castle, and turned to continue the journey. Lukas nodded approvingly and beckoned towards another trail leading from the clearing into the denser forest.

“This is the road down which we must travel. We are nearly at our journey’s end, but we must be quiet.

Noises travel, even in the forest. They say that the trees have ears, and no one can know that we have traveled this path. So keep quiet, and fol ow me.” The five travelers moved off down the trail, Lukas leading and his comrade bringing up the rear.

It was not much further before they reached their destination. Julia had no doubt where it was. They were back at the secret garden she and Peter had discovered on their first day on Aedyn. But she tried hard not to think of Peter—it would only make her angry. And anyway, she was sure she would have enough to think about without worrying about his treachery.

The five travelers entered the garden. The monk Gaius rose to meet them, greeting Julia and embracing the four others. “You have done wel ,” he said to them.

Gaius beckoned to them to join him at a table that had appeared near to the throne, covered with fresh bread and luscious fruits. He smiled at his visitors.

“We can talk safely now. We are too deep in the forest for any lackeys of the dark lords to find us.

There are eagles posted throughout this region, and they wil know what to do if strangers approach. We wil have plenty of warning.” He turned to Helen and Alyce, nodding at them. “It is many years since you have been in this garden, is it not?” Alyce smiled up at Lukas. “Not since I was a child, and taken to serve in the castle,” she said. “I never thought this day would come.”

“We’l help the others escape soon,” Lukas said gently, touching her arm. “We would have tonight, had we more horses…”

Helen was looking around, taking in the scene.

“Gaius, it’s ruined! What happened to the garden?

To the fountain? To everything!”

The monk nodded, his expression grim.

“It is as you say. The garden mirrors the condition of Aedyn itself, and it is in a sad state of ruin and decay. But when Aedyn is renewed, this garden wil once more become the place Marcus knew. Even the garden you remember cannot compare to that! And that day is to hand.” His gaze shifted to Julia, who tried al of a sudden to look very smal . “The fair strangers have come,” he said softly,

“and the Lord of Hosts wil visit and restore his people. He has seen our suffering at the hands of our oppressors, and the time has come. He has raised up a deliverer who wil break the power of the dark lords.”

Julia blushed, not precisely sure what to say.

How could she save anyone or anything? Peter always used to tease her for being clumsy and sil y—

and how could a girl of thirteen deliver a nation from such evil? But someone had to do it. Maybe she had yet to discover herself. It al seemed so—wel , so improbable. But how could she walk away when the need was so great?

Gaius nodded at Julia, seeming to read her thoughts. “No one is ever ready for the world to turn upside down, dear one. And so we have brought you here to prepare yourself for what must come.” What must come…the man seemed to speak exclusively in riddles, Julia thought. In anyone else, this would have been intensely irritating. Gaius smiled at her and continued.

“You wil go deep into the forest. During that time, you wil discover whether you real y are the deliverer that we have been awaiting. You wil remain there for a time and then return here, to this garden. It is tomorrow that we mark the Great Remembrance.”

“The Great…what?” repeated Julia. “Is that what you told me about before, when everyone comes to tel stories?”

Helen stepped forward. Her eyes were bright, and for the first time Julia caught a glimpse of the joyful young woman that, in a different time and place, she might have been. She spoke in a voice that was serene, and somehow far away.

“We came out of a distant land, Lady Julia, and were led over the seas to this island. It would be a new beginning for us as a people. We would be the good Lord’s people in a good land. When our ancestors arrived in Aedyn, Marcus told them that they were to mark their safe arrival in the new paradise. Every year, the story of the journey across the sea to this island would be told again. We wil never forget this moment in our history, nor the faithfulness of the One who brought us here. Marcus was the first to tel that story, in the Great Hal of the Citadel of the Lord of Hosts. It is a solemn reminder of our past. Our identity as a people is so closely intertwined with this event that we must never forget it. The dark lords think that they have suppressed this event by preventing it from happening in the castle—they know that the surest way to destroy a people is to erase the memory of their past. But this garden was built as a way of remembering the past and looking forward to the future.” She smiled at the monk. “Gaius is our story keeper, the one who guards our history. We come and remember, and wait for the deliverer.” And then, looking at Gaius, her eyes went dark. “Of course, there are not many who can come to remember. So many of the faithful are enslaved in the castle…” Her voice trailed off, and Gaius took up the story.

“We

need

you

here

for

the

Great

Remembrance, Lady Julia. If you believe that the Lord of Hosts has cal ed you to deliver us from the dark lords, then you wil be acclaimed as our deliverer. And then you must find the answers to the great question of Aedyn. Only then can we hope to break free from the dark power of the lords.” Julia was absolutely baffled.

“Question? What—what question? I don’t know this place wel enough to…” Gaius hushed her.

“Julia, we need to know why Marcus’ most trusted lords betrayed our paradise. We need to know how such evil could arise in this place. Unless we can find the root of the evil, we shal never be able to restore this paradise to what it was meant to be. We must destroy the source of this evil before it can contaminate others.” He smiled at her expression—a look of intense concentration and utter confusion, and took her hands between his. “If you are indeed the deliverer, you wil not struggle on your own. The Lord of Hosts wil be with you. He wil guide you and give you new power as you seek answers.”

“I wil do my best, Gaius.”

“I know you wil .” He squeezed her hands as his eyes smiled at her. “You wil leave this garden in two hours and go deeper into the forest, but now you must rest. You wil need al your strength for what lies ahead.”

P
eter, as he accompanied the captain of the guard to the Great Hal , was feeling immensely pleased with himself. Now that Julia had escaped, he thought, he could give the lords a faulty design for their cannon without worrying about her safety. He had recal ed something from one of his grandfather’s long talks—lectures, more like—about Lord Nelson’s naval strategies at the Battle of Trafalgar. If cannons were not made properly they exploded, kil ing those who loaded and fired them.

His idea was simple—simple but bril iant, he told himself. He would get the lords to make a clay cannon and clay cannonbal s. Clay could never withstand the force of an explosion. The weapon that the Lords of Aedyn hoped to use against their enemies would destroy their own guards instead.

There was, of course, the simple matter of his own escape, but as they approached the Hal he put it out of his mind. Al would be wel . He was sure of it.

Al three lords were waiting. One of them gestured to a table that had been set up with paper and ink and Peter, understanding, made a hasty but complete sketch of a cannon. Finishing, he brought it to the lords.

“You put the gunpowder al the way down here,” he said, pointing. “And the cannonbal —those are the clay bal s I told you about—is placed on top of it.

Then the gunpowder is ignited through this little opening here. It explodes and propels the cannonbal into the distance.”

“And how far does it travel?” asked the Jackal.

“It al depends, my lord,” Peter replied. “That’s part of the testing process. But it wil go far indeed—

farther than an arrow.”

“But surely the cannon itself wil explode? How could clay withstand the pressure?”

“The barrel of the cannon is very thick, and the cannonbal does not stay inside for long,” Peter said self-assuredly. “The ful force of the explosion wil propel the cannonbal forward, not shatter the cannon barrel.”

“I do hope you’re right,” said the Wolf, speaking for the first time. “If not, you can expect to die a particularly unpleasant death. You!” He addressed a swarthy man who was standing back in the shadows

—the potter, and most likely another slave, Peter thought. “Can this be made?” The Wolf took hold of Peter’s design and shook it at the man. The potter nodded mutely and gave a grunt that must have been assent, for the lords seemed to relax.

“Until tomorrow, then,” said the Wolf, and swept his arm in a gesture of dismissal.

Peter returned to his rooms, locked in with a guard stationed outside the doorway. He paced back and forth in front of the windows, no longer able to push out of his mind the question of his escape.

Surely, surely there had to be a way to get out of al this. A way to get away from the castle and find Julia and get home to Oxford!

It was just then, as he looked out over the castle ramparts, that the shadow of an idea slipped into his mind. He walked up and down more heavily, mul ing it over. It would depend ninety percent upon careful planning and ten percent on blind luck, and Peter knew that one cannot plan to be lucky. But the risk was stil worth taking. He thought furiously. The plan had so many loose ends, but it was the only one he had. It just had to work. Otherwise, he would die a quick death when the cannon exploded…or a slow one when the Lords of Aedyn caught him afterwards.

As Peter paced the room Julia was setting off into the dark depths of the forest.

“How wil I know where I am meant to be going?” she asked Gaius, gripping the new walking stick Lukas had cut for her.

“An eagle wil go ahead of you, and he wil guide you to the place of testing. Look up on that tree, to the right. No, just there. Do you see him? Watch him careful y. When you have arrived at the right place, he wil land close beside you.” Gaius put his hands on Julia’s shoulders and squeezed them gently, just as her father had done when she was smal . “Now go! And may the Lord of Hosts be with you!” There was a fluttering noise from the tree as the eagle launched himself into the air and began to soar upwards, circling. Julia fol owed him along a narrow path which seemed to lead nowhere.

It was late morning, but as she fol owed the eagle deeper and deeper into the forest it seemed that dusk had begun to fal . She found herself deep in the shadowy, wild forest, and had it not been for the dark outline of the eagle above her she would have been lost in moments. Immense, gloomy trees with huge twisted roots soared up to an invisible yet darkening sky far beyond. The tangled maze of leaves and branches were like a thick wal , blotting out what little remained of the sunlight.

She had no idea what creatures might lurk in the darkness beyond the safety of the path, or what wild beasts might live on the island. But she kept her eyes on the eagle, and suddenly the path opened up into a grassy clearing. The eagle waited in the middle of it, cocking its head at her almost inquisitively. Then he bowed—and if you have ever seen an eagle bow, you wil know that it was a very strange sight indeed—and flew into the gathering night. Within moments, he had disappeared from view.

Julia watched him depart—her one link with the familiar. How she wished that she could mount up with the wings of an eagle, instead of being bound to this island and the great unknown!

Alone in the night, this unaccustomed midday darkness, there was nothing to do but make herself comfortable and wait for whatever this test might be.

She stretched out beneath a thick-branched pine at the edge of the clearing and, stil exhausted from her night in the Death Cage and the hard ride after it, waited for sleep to come.

But something else came first.

In front of her eyes the tal grasses between the trees parted, revealing what lay within. A man stepped out from between the trees and held out his hand. “Greetings,” he said with a smile.

H
e wore the dark robes of a slave, but the massive hood was down around his shoulders. His silver hair and hard eyes were al too familiar. Simeon. She hadn’t expected to see him here—he was stil a slave in the castle, wasn’t he? But stranger things had already happened in Aedyn, and so she started forward with a smile. Simeon opened his arms in an embrace.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, her eyes bright. Simeon dipped his head in a gesture that was almost a bow.