Children of the Fountain Read online

  He gave Matthias a friendly pat on the back and said, with an enormous grin, “Come on, it’s in the morning hall. I'll take you there.”

  Matthias sighed and let his face relax from the distant stare and square jaw he realised he had been wearing and followed his roommate. As they walked he tried to remember the corridors they had come down as feeling sure he would get lost returning.

  They eventually reached the hall and it was enormous. Along its walls hung all manner of weapons and armour. Different types of swords at one end, all neatly side by side – there must have been twenty or thirty of each type! Next to them were helmets, breastplates and further along a collection of wooden weapons.

  Near these were a group of perhaps twenty or thirty children gathered; all younger than Matthias, but not much. They were chatting idly amongst themselves. Matthias could see many of them had wooden swords on their belts and all had studded jackets of leather.

  As Harry led them in, some of the children stared and looked him up and down. Matthias made his way to the back of the group and tried to avoid their looks.

  The biggest of a group of three boys turned and said out loud, “Our new teacher looks a bit young!”

  There were a few guffaws but thankfully most of the class ignored him. The boy poked his friend in the ribs and was just about to come out with another jibe when he received a sour look from Harry.

  “He's with me, Walter,” said Harry. He turned, gave Matthias a wink, and then left via one of the other corridors. The other boy turned back to his friends with a sideways look at Matthias.

  Whilst they waited he started to take in more of the scene. Hanging on the other walls were ropes, climbing equipment and harnesses; then, further along, pistols and muskets. The majority of the hall was covered in a thick carpet the like of which Matthias had never seen; it almost made him bounce with each step.

  As Matthias looked around the children he noticed they appeared agitated. Some were fidgeting with the straps on their armour and belts, others simply looking at the floor with gloom. He once again found himself squaring his jaw and setting his shoulders back. Today was all about learning he reminded himself. Pay attention, do exactly as the teacher says and treat him with respect.

  For several more minutes they waited, the air getting tenser. Then, from a far door, a man marched in wearing a thick leather jerkin and trousers. His red face was accompanied by grey hair and an even greyer bushy beard making him look like a knight from the Crusades. He strode over purposefully to the group and barked at them like a general, “Alright everyone. Let's have you.” The children all scurried to line up against the wall and Matthias fell in at the end. The barrel-chested teacher walked down the line looking at each child in turn until finally he came to Matthias.

  “I'm Mr O'Grady, your instructor. Follow my instructions and try to keep up and I think we'll get along just fine.” Up close the man was intimidating. His face had several scars that looked almost as old as him and his teeth were black and broken. A rapier hung at the side of his belt and his fingers danced across the hilt when he shouted. It looked as if he was about to draw it upon one of the children and Matthias wondered for a moment whether he ever had.

  “Walter, Stephen, Raphael. Present!” he bellowed. The three boys who had been sniggering all leapt forward and drew their wooden swords before standing in a line. O'Grady walked up to the wall and took down two wooden swords, one of which he threw to Matthias without a word. He then took off his sword belt and handed his rapier to another student.

  “En garde!” he yelled, and then advanced on the three boys. Immediately the three of them split up so as to encircle the instructor and the other children watched, fascinated. Then, like a snake pouncing, the first of them leapt at O'Grady without fear.

  The boy’s lunge seemed slow and clumsy, or maybe that was just the way O'Grady made it look as he easily flicked the low strike aside and countered with one to the boy’s chest. The boy sunk to his knees in genuine pain from the strike but the instructor was not done yet. The old man swiftly followed up with another crack straight in the boy’s ribs who finally collapsed.

  O’Grady turned to face the other boys but addressed the groaning mass on the floor to his side. “Too easy, Stephen. Very slow, even for you. The strike was too low for a target taller than yourself. Get up!”

  The boy groaned on the floor and Matthias thought he heard a faint, “Yes-sir,” muffled into the carpet. Stephen got on to his knees rubbing his ribs and, with a sullen look, made his way back to the line taking deep breaths.

  The two remaining boys shared a slightly nervous look with each other but maintained their calm and prepared to strike. First up was the one Harry had called Walter. He crept to within striking range of the teacher but merely carried out small thrusts well out of reach, presumably he was testing the range of the man.

  “Come along Walter,” said O'Grady. “Show me your mettle, boy.”

  Walter stepped back and to Matthias’s surprise leapt straight at the teacher, only he went up and up; perhaps twenty feet over the instructor’s head. O’Grady turned to face the boy who had landed behind him. “Good, Walter. But you’ll get nowhere jumping around all day.”

  Matthias turned to look at his classmates; they were all staring intently. Nobody seemed to have notice the boy had leapt the height of a house! Mr Hardy had called the children ‘gifted’ and he was beginning to understand why.

  The boy took barely a step back but leapt again and this time quickly turned and lunged. His strike looked true, but once more O’Grady was quicker, he knocked the boy’s blade aside and thundered into him with his shoulder. The youngster’s breath could be heard leaving his body as he too fell to the floor.

  “Too open Walter! Were you paying attention last week? It’s all about the footwork boy.” He looked up at the remaining opponent who had now turned slightly pale.

  The boy was quivering, his breathing quick as he tried to maintain his composure. He looked at the old instructor who stared back with mad eyes. Then, something seemed to snap within him and he lunged. It was clumsy even to a layman and the boy’s sword was wild and high. O’Grady made it look simple when he ducked, disarmed and flung the boy over his shoulder. He landed heavily only a few feet from Matthias.

  “Disappointing class,” said O’Grady, re-adjusting his belt and jacket. “Clearly people haven’t been paying attention. Right here we just saw three prime examples of what not to do. Never miscalculate your opponent’s strengths, never go in open and always watch your feet. Balance is of the highest importance.”

  The class nodded glumly. Then O’Grady looked at Matthias. “You, new boy. What’s your name?”

  “Matthias, sir.”

  “Let’s see what you’re made of, come on. I’ll go easy on you.”

  Matthias remembered he was gripping a wooden sword; though more out of fear than preparation. “Sir?”

  “Come at me. I won’t hurt you.”

  He gingerly stepped forward and held the sword at what he approximated was a fencing stance. “En garde!” bellowed the instructor. They immediately began to circle each other as the boys before had done. “Now remember what you’ve seen here,” said O’Grady, “Keep your balance, attack high and don’t open up your body.”

  Energy pulsed through Matthias as his arms, legs and even his stomach tightened. Somehow his fear had vanished and an animal instinct took over. Every muscle in his body burst into life and it was almost as if time slowed down around him. For a second he thought he saw a small look of confusion cross the instructor’s face. He picked this as his moment to attack and leapt at him sideways with the wooden sword.

  O’Grady instinctively brought up his own to block and disarm Matthias but he had been expecting this and had already planned his next move. The attack was a feint and he used his own motion to spin around the disarming move and turn his back to the teacher. He finally brought the sword up to the teacher’s throat in a sharp thrust. There was silen
ce as the class stood open-mouthed looking at the two in front of them. O’Grady with his arms by his side and Matthias standing in front him, back to chest but with the sword held above his head and poking into the man's throat.

  “Impressive,” smiled O’Grady. “I can see we’ll have some fun.” He started chuckling and Matthias thought he felt him press in closer to the sword.

  “Only one thing.” This time he definitely leaned in to the dull wooden point. “You’re slightly off balance.” With those words he whipped Matthias’s legs out from underneath him.

  He fell to the floor and landed with a thump on his back. Now O’Grady had the upper hand and he didn’t waste a moment. Before Matthias could recover the older man had crossed his own two swords to make a ‘V’ around Matthias’s neck. The crazed eyes glared down at him and the mouth formed a crooked, blackened grin.

  “With a little hard work we can make sure you don’t overstretch yourself, eh?” The teacher stood back and offered Matthias his hand before hoisting him up. Massaging his throat he took his place in line with the other boys and felt a touch of pride as he noticed a few of the looks of curiosity he had garnered.

  The rest of the morning was spent concentrating on footwork through a combination of lectures and then more complex balancing exercises. Once Matthias got to grips with the theory it came naturally to him to be able to follow O’Grady's moves and steps. This soon became apparent to everyone and several of the other boys started to look at him with suspicion.

  At midday they broke for lunch and Matthias followed the flow of children toward the smell of food coming from a banqueting hall. It was there the familiar face of Harry appeared bobbing through the crowds.

  “Ahoy there!” he shouted. Matthias managed a smile and waved weakly. It had been an exhausting morning and he was looking forward to some food.

  “How was the class?” said Harry.

  “It was good,” said Matthias, as they made their way to the queue of children receiving food. “I think I’m going to like it here.”

  “Oh really? I heard you gave O’Grady a few surprises.”

  As they reached the front of the queue they were handed an empty bowl each. This was promptly filled by a maid with a mixture of meat, vegetables and broth. Next to it was a large basket of bread and Matthias helped himself to three pieces.

  “Everyone’s saying you managed to beat his disarming move with your first attempt! I know you’re a little older than the other children in the class but it’s still impressive. I imagine they’ll have you joining the rest of us within the week.”

  “I hope so. I want to learn as much as I can as quickly as I can.” He took a tankard of water and followed Harry to a table. They both started eating; it was good food and he was glad of the bread to add substance to the meal. The banqueting hall bustled with what must have been close to a hundred children all eating and talking excitedly.

  One of them approached the table. He was bigger and older, maybe eighteen, with blond hair and blue eyes that narrowed when he saw Matthias. “Hello Harry,” he said with a big smile. “Who’s your new friend?”

  “Alexander, meet Matthias. Matthias, Alexander.” Harry didn’t even look up from his food.

  “Matthias? An unusual name.”

  “He’s from far away.”

  “Oh, I see. Anyway, I just thought if you wanted me to join you for lunch, I could perhaps sit here?”

  “Not today, thanks.”

  The boy’s smile dropped and he looked crestfallen as he walked away to an empty table. As he turned and walked away Matthias noted the other children seemed to ignore him too.

  “Who was that?”

  “That’s Alexander,” said Harry. “He’s a bit of a strange one. Spends most of his time in the chapel. Doesn’t really have many friends. I talk to him occasionally but only because I feel sorry for him.”

  Matthias watched as the boy drifted to an empty table at the edge of the room where he sat down to eat his meal alone before turning back to Harry.

  “So what have you been doing today?” he asked, between mouthfuls.

  “Ballistics.”

  Matthias looked puzzled.

  “Shooting?” said Harry. “It’s pretty easy once you get the hang of it…rather boring actually. But after you’ve completed your apprenticeship, that’s when selection happens and you become a Journeyman.”

  “Journeyman?” Matthias realised in all his eagerness to take up arms he’d forgotten to ask any of the basic questions of how long he would be here and what exactly his training entailed.

  “Yes, Journeyman,” Harry took a swig of water from his tankard and wiped his mouth. “Everyone starts their apprenticeships first. Maybe half a dozen or so out of each class complete and then they get to become a Journeyman.”

  “You mean it’s not like joining the army?”

  Harry scoffed and returned to his bowl. “No, this is an academy. You have to pass all the tests for each discipline – swordsmanship, shooting, physiology, chemistry…”

  “Physiology?” said Matthias.

  “Yes,” replied Harry, “The study of the body; I know, I’d never heard of it either.”

  “I don’t understand. Why study the human body? I thought I was here to learn how to fight?”

  “But you are,” said Harry, “and for that you have to understand how the human body works. Where all the organs are; weak spots, veins and arteries. You need to know all this when you’re making kills.”

  Matthias looked around. All the children were laughing and chatting away, each with a bowl of broth in front of them. He looked back at Harry who was finishing off his food and wiping the bowl with the bread. “I thought this was like the army?”

  Harry looked at Matthias for a split second and then chuckled. “The army?” said Harry, holding another chuckle. “Who told you that?”

  “Well, I just thought…Mr Hardy said I would be trained in combat. I thought this was, well, an army?”

  Matthias suddenly felt very unsure of himself. What was the word Father James had used? Assassins. At the time he had pressed on with his questions about the Legion never asking for an explanation of the word. He hadn’t wanted to admit he had never heard it before.

  Harry looked at him and put the last of his bread in his mouth. He narrowed his eyes as if looking for something. “You really don’t understand do you?”

  He shook his head before Harry offered a smile. “Finish that and follow me.” Matthias put the last piece of crust in his mouth and followed Harry out of the hall and up some stone stairs. They continued up several floors and then came to a wooden door. As they opened it Matthias was blasted by bright sunlight and blown almost off his feet by a strong wind. They were stood on the battlements of the castle.

  Harry leaned over the high stone wall and looked down. Matthias did the same and started when he saw the ground far below. Harry put his arm out to help him back.

  “I’ve never been this high before,” snapped Matthias. He crept cautiously to the edge and again looked over. The sight was truly impressive. Below him was the great courtyard of the castle where children scurried around on their way to classes. Two coaches were arriving and further out, stretching all the way to the horizon were fields, farms and forest for as far as he could see.

  The bright sun beat down but a harsh wind was also pounding them. Harry had to shout to be heard as he spoke. “This is just a small part of the duke’s lands. Look around you!”

  Again his eyes turned to the landscape. The fields swished violently as the wind hit them. Even the forest flickered and changed colour as gales sent the trees first one way and then the other.

  Harry stepped close to Matthias and looked him in the eye. “Armies only fight other armies. Our war has no armies,” he shouted.

  “Then what are we doing here?” bellowed Matthias, the wind howling at his ears.

  “All this is just basic training. Combat, fitness, biology, even etiquette classes for some. All
training to separate the chaff from the wheat.”

  “So what happens to the wheat?”

  Harry stood close next to Matthias and held his shoulders. “You’ll be an assassin,” he said, and offered a strange smirk.

  “I don’t know what this word means.”

  Harry looked confused and his eyes flickered as if something was finally registering. He nodded to himself.

  “You’ll be taught to kill and then be sent to kill. In secret, abroad or at home. In the houses of kings or the cottages of farmers. You’ll usually not know them and you’ll rarely know why. But you’ll do it; without question, without hesitation.”

  Matthias’s head rocked back. He knew a little about what an army was, how they worked and what they did. He had even imagined himself in battle but this was something different. The wind had died down now and the skies were darkening. Matthias was still getting buffeted though and he struggled to stay on his feet but he wasn’t sure whether it was the wind causing this anymore.

  “Do you understand now?” Harry said.

  Matthias nodded weakly. Harry shouted, “Isn’t it exciting?”

  And then he started to laugh. Loud and heartily and long and hard. Matthias couldn’t join in and just stood there as this boy laughed and laughed like some crazed clown. After a while they made their way back down the stairs in silence. At the bottom Harry informed Matthias that his next class was to be physiology and he gave him directions. As they turned and parted company, Matthias stopped and asked him one last thing. “Who do we kill?”

  Harry looked at the floor for a moment and appeared to turn this question over in his head. “You never know until you’re given the order. It could be a footman; it could be a lord or a lady. You just do it.”

  Matthias nodded slowly and looked down the long dark corridor ahead of him to the classroom. As he started to walk he heard Harry whisper, “After a while, I hear you start to enjoy it.”