Children of the Fountain (8 page)

It took Matthias several weeks to really settle down at the castle. For many nights sleep did not come naturally and more of his dreams were frightening and confused. Dark thoughts of death and violence would criss-cross his mind in nightmarish images. Sometimes he would see the faces of children he knew from the abbey. Sometimes he heard their screams and it was always late at night before he finally drifted away into some form of sleep.

The days, however, were progressing well. He had improved at combat and had heard mutterings from Harry that perhaps he was to be finally moved up to the senior classes. This came as a relief to him as he was older and taller than his classmates and sometimes felt embarrassed at the ease with which he dispatched opponents in fencing, his personal favourite.

However, not all of his peers were at a disadvantage. Quite quickly, he got to learn of the other children who possessed out of the ordinary abilities. Several could leap as high as a rooftop, others like Gerard had the strength of ten men. Indeed, in one unsavoury encounter in the courtyard the bully had upturned a local farmer’s cart with one hand just to show off.

Being bigger, quicker and stronger however held no benefits in Mr Butler’s physiology lessons. With help from his uncle Matthias had been learning to write and had also been practising his reading. The soft-spoken teacher had been kind enough to let him take some of the tests after class in the form of questions and drawings on the board. However, he had struggled. His brain had been unable to retain the scientific language or Latin and without the use of notes to read from it became even harder.

But Matthias found he had tremendous self-discipline and every night after dinner he spent time with his uncle reading and writing in the little study. Afterwards he’d try and fit some time in with Harry, if he wasn’t busy with his own work, and practise drawing. The sketches came easily and he was surprised at how well he had been able to draw the organs that had been handed out in jars. Matthias had received a commendation for his picture of a heart, but was sadly let down by his labelling of the various parts which he couldn’t remember even after Mr Butler had made him copy them down ten times.

The castle itself had seemed to change around him as the summer drew to a close. More and more lanterns and candles went up as the days grew shorter. Extra blankets had been delivered to his room along with a thick black cloak which, as with all of his clothes now, was adorned with the duke’s emblem. They trained and learned every day except Sundays, which the children had to themselves. Most would go off in search of fun and adventure in the local village or forest but Matthias often went with Harry on walks and the two had become genuine friends.

Every Sunday morning Matthias would attend mass with Father James. It seemed strange the two of them all on their own in the great chapel sitting down to offer prayers and thanks, even taking communion. But to Father James, making sure the chapel was up and running seemed to tie in with his need for being useful. The old chapel and the old man gave each other a purpose.

It was on one such morning that Matthias joined Harry for a walk around the castle grounds. They had wandered a great circle around the orchard and gardens and were just about to turn into the courtyard when they noticed a rider heading up to the gates. Not unusual, but this person was with an armed escort. Four soldiers followed behind as the stranger made his way to the great wooden doors.

“I wonder who that is?” said Harry, tilting back his head. The two upped their pace as they reached the courtyard.

As they drew close they spotted the familiar livery of the duke on the soldiers’ chests. The uniforms were bright blue and each man carried a sword and rifle. The horses were powerful specimens and as they dismounted and organised their packs in the courtyard the two managed to catch a glimpse of the stranger who led them.

A gallant, muscular man dressed in fine gentleman’s clothes that hung on his frame, highlighting his physique. He brushed idly at his black riding boots and started to remove his saddle from the horse. He turned and smiled at them and from underneath his hat Matthias saw straight long red hair. His eyes were a pale green and his face was freckled and pale. He smiled and spoke, “Boys, would you inform Mr Hardy that Mr Cook has arrived?”

“Yes sir,” said Harry, and the two headed off to fetch the master. They didn’t need to go far however as they nearly ran into him turning the corner of the corridor to his office.

“Mr Cook has arrived, sir. He said to inform you.”

Mr Hardy smiled. “Excellent. Did he have any men with him?”

“Four, sir,” said Matthias.

“Follow me. You can help with the horses.”

They walked back to the courtyard and the two gentlemen greeted each other like old friends. Servants were sent for to see to the men’s baggage and Mr Hardy introduced Harry and Matthias as two promising students.

“Good to hear it,” said Mr Cook. “I’m glad there’s such talent coming through the ranks.”

“Thank you,” said Matthias, feeling more than a little awkward. He had still not received any of his social training from Lady Taylor, whom he had yet to meet. But he managed to hold his own in polite company and so far, he hoped, he hadn’t offended anyone.

Mr Hardy cast Matthias a quick glance before saying, “Matthias is Michael’s son.”

Mr Cook’s eyes opened wide immediately, “A good man and a good friend. You were at the abbey?”

“Yes, sir.” Matthias noticed the curiosity on Harry’s face.

“Alonso happened to have been in the area at the time,” said Mr Hardy.

Mr Cook smiled, “Alonso is still searching for a special child?”

“You know Alonso. He is away following up some information we had on the episode. We believe it was Balthazar.”

Mr Cook looked grave, “I thought he was in hiding?”

“We thought so too,” said Mr Hardy, and there was a brief silence. “Come, let us get you refreshed. We have much to discuss and these boys need to get your horses to the stables and then I’m sure they have some work to do.” The look Mr Hardy shot them implied that if they didn’t he would find some for them. Both boys took their leave and went over to the horses.

“He knew my father. Who do you think he is? Surely not a teacher.”

Harry started to gather the reins of the three nearest beasts; all fine stallions. “Don’t know. But four soldiers? He must be pretty important.”

“I wonder what he meant about a special child.” Matthias, less confidently, pulled at the reins of the remaining pair. They didn’t look like they wanted to move and the two horses started to inspect the floor with interest.

“Alonso?” said Harry, “They say he’s looking for a special child or is it a cursed child? I can never remember; I think Mr Hardy humours him.”

“Humours him?” Matthias tugged again at the reins and the horses reluctantly fell into line behind Harry and the others.

Harry turned and spoke over his shoulder. “Alonso is very superstitious. All mystics are. Don’t you know much about them?”

It occurred to Matthias that he hadn’t really given much consideration to the strange Spaniard who had found him that night near the abbey. “No,” he said, “I’ve never met one of his kind before.”

They walked on around the back of the castle to the stable entrance. Harry looked around, but the yard was empty.

“They come from the highest mountains. Life is hard and cruel up there but the mystics have learnt to adapt. They’re big, strong and fierce fighters. But they can also see things we can’t even begin to understand.”

“What kind of things?”

“Nobody really knows. Some say the future. Others say they get visions. I asked him when he found me and he told me something I’m never to repeat.”

“What?”

Harry snorted, “I can’t say. But what he told me sent fear all the way to my stomach. He said I could never tell anyone. But I’ll tell you this. He knows things. Things we don’t.”

He looked at Harry. The boy’s face was deadpan. There was no hint of a smile or trace of sarcasm. “You’re being funny.”

“Not at all,” said Harry. “You should learn to take me seriously when you need to.”

The stable master, a stern looking man who surveyed them with suspicion, approached to take the horses before disappearing into the colossal stables.

Matthias turned and started to walk back. “I never know when that is, Harry. Come on, we’ll be late.” Both boys returned to their room and changed into their evening clothes for dinner. As they made their way there they ran into Sophie. She was carrying a large basket and seemed to be struggling.

“Let me help you,” said Harry.

She gratefully shared the burden with him and offered her thanks. “Such a gentleman,” she said. Matthias took the other handle of the large basket.

“Where have you been?” he asked.

Sophie started to adjust her dress and took a handkerchief out of a pocket, “Just to the forest, picking specimens.”

Harry turned to Matthias with a questioning look. “Plants?”

“Why yes!” said Sophie. “I found some particularly good examples of long-leafed blackroot bulbs.”

The pair followed the girl to her chamber with the basket. “I’m guessing these bulbs aren’t particularly good for you?”

“Why, Matthias,” she said, “the bulbs are harmless. True they are not edible but they will not kill you.”

They arrived and two boys stopped to stare at the room. It which was much like their own except it was full of plants, jars, potions and pots. There was barely space for a bed but they found it and heaved the basket on top. She didn’t share her quarters it seemed, though this was not surprising. Matthias guessed there would most likely be none willing to sleep and live in her room. She tended to distrust people, and they tended to offer the same sentiment back.

Matthias peered inside the basket and sure enough spotted lots of brown bulbs, each one as big as an apple, amongst other plants and leaves. He picked one up and smelt it but it was odourless. Harry too started to look inside and produced a handful of bright red grass.

“If it’s not poisonous then why do you want it?”

“The bulbs aren’t poisonous,” said Sophie, “but if you boil them and then distil their juices, add a few other herbs, mix with a little yeast and vinegar then you have something that, for all intents and purposes, looks and tastes like mustard.”

Matthias looked at Sophie with a barely concealed smile. “I’m guessing it’s not mustard though.” Sophie shook her head softly.

“What does it do?” said Harry.

Sophie played absentmindedly with a little blue plant that sat on her desk. “It makes your lungs bleed until you drown.”

Matthias felt his jaw slowly fall and he put the bulb back in the basket. He turned to Harry who was looking equally appalled.

They chatted for a while; Sophie explaining about some of the other plants she had gathered and even letting them look at her collection of poisons kept under lock and key in a trunk under her bed.

Afterward, they made their way to the dinner hall in silence. Both Harry and Matthias were quietly contemplating the images in their heads that Sophie had inadvertently put there. Truth be told, Matthias found it all quite creepy. He had yet to really consider the thought that one day he may be ordered to kill someone or indeed take it upon himself to do so.

Meals on Sunday were a formal affair and took place in the dinner hall; a great room in the very centre of the castle. Shields, armour and various trophies of battles adorned the immense walls and large rectangular tables seated the students. The various tutors sat on their own up at the front atop a plinth with two great chairs at the back of them – Harry had explained these were for guests of honour or the duke.

The duke himself had yet to set foot in the castle. Matthias had asked his uncle many questions about him but the old monk seemed reluctant to talk about his father. In the end he had gathered as much information as he could from other students and even snippets from Mr Hardy. Matthias learnt that his grandfather rarely visited and spent most of his time in London. The castle was set aside purely as a training facility and not many even knew of its existence. The duke was now an old man but he was still wise and sharp and he was never seen without his personal guard.

After dinner he decided he was going to ask Mr Hardy if he had news of the duke’s next visit. He was desperate to meet his grandfather, although he had told nobody else yet of this secret under strict instructions from the master himself.

As they ate Sophie and Harry picked up the conversation about the new arrival Mr Cook. Matthias listened but watched across the room as Mr Butler and then Mr Hardy chatted with him. Even toughened old O’Grady seemed to be a friend but the beautiful lady on the end of the table dressed in fine evening clothes was unknown to Matthias. A great blond wig over a foot high sat atop her soft and gentle face and he felt a tingle through his chest as her big dark brown eyes momentarily met his. She too seemed familiar with Mr Cook and smiled at his every word. Occasionally, with a fork, she would pick a little at her food and cast her eyes over the flame haired gentleman.

“Her, I don’t know,” said Matthias. “Another new arrival?”

“That’s Lady Taylor,” said Harry, with an ever so slight sigh. “She teaches etiquette and literature but doesn’t live in the castle.”