Renegade (10 page)

As I make my way back to the bedroom, I notice a large drying pool of blood in the centre of the room. Faith’s state of mind is perilous enough as it is, so I grab one of the blankets and
throw it over the puddle, before returning to the cellar.

Faith’s gaze is still vacant but she does at least respond to my voice when I say we have to go. Jela tries to help her up but Faith shrugs her off and bursts past me, running through the
door to the outside. She looks both ways and then begins sprinting along the dirt trail. We chase but struggle to catch up and for a moment, I think she is going to continue along the track towards
the town. Apparently on instinct, she sidesteps through a gap between trees and bounds effortlessly up a slope to the side of the wooded area, sending a flurry of small stones and dirt tumbling
down the hill behind her.

The air is so cold it hurts my lungs and as Jela and I support each other climbing the muddy bank, Faith streaks further ahead and disappears over the top of the hill. I cling to a tree trunk
and haul Jela the final few steps, before we stop for a few moments to catch our breath. I am about to ask if Jela can see anyone when something hisses overhead.

Faith is sitting above us in the tree pointing towards the field we crossed to get here.

‘There are Kingsmen all around the field and more surrounding the town,’ she says. ‘I can’t see any on the far side where we left Imrin and the others.’

She sounds completely normal, as she did before the assault on the cabin.

‘How can we get back?’ I whisper loudly.

‘There’s a huge hedge that runs along the side of the field next to the one we crossed to get here. We’ll be really close to the Kingsmen but, if we’re quiet, they
shouldn’t notice us. We’ll pass right under their noses. We’ll have to go under the bridge and through the water, but then we’ll have a clear run back to the others.’
She tails off, before adding: ‘You can swim, can’t you?’

Jela says she can but I have never learned – the gully outside Martindale is a dry lake, filled with rubbish. Faith replies, ‘I’ll get you over’ – and then jumps
down, landing perfectly on her feet, before running off towards the field.

Instead of attracting attention by going over the stile, we slide under it, and run the length of the hedge in exactly the way Faith described. We can hear the Kingsmen’s voices from the
other side of the bushes but instead of cursing us, as I would have expected, they are complaining about the mud and being called out on another false errand.

At the bridge, there are no guards but because of the way the stone structure curves upwards over the water, we could be easily seen by any of the Kingsmen we just passed if we tried to walk
over it. Jela swims across the river first, gasping in shock at how cold the water is, but quickly making her way over to the far bank. I wade in as far as I can until my tiptoes are scraping the
gravelly bottom, unable to speak as the ravaging temperature chills my body. Faith wraps an arm around my chest and drags me across the flowing water until she says I can put my feet down. Her
voice is crisp, as if the chill has not affected her at all.

My teeth are chattering, my body shaking, as we run towards the woods, hurtling past a set of bushes close to the edge until, finally, we reach the spot where Imrin and Hart are sitting on the
ground, hidden by the trees. They are pleased to see us but curious as to why we are drenched. I ask where Pietra is and Imrin points upwards to reveal her hanging in a tree, staring in the
direction from which we came. I want to find out how she got up there but there are so many other questions to ask first.

Imrin throws blankets around the three of us as I tell him and Hart that we were almost discovered by Kingsmen. I quickly add that everyone’s families should have received the warning
message, because Faith’s parents got theirs. I don’t mention what actually happened with her mother and father. I will talk to Imrin when it is quiet but I don’t think Faith would
want me to tell the rest of the group that her parents tried to sell us out.

Faith tells Pietra she can come down and, without waiting for a reply, climbs the tree until she is close to the top, many branches above where Pietra was.

‘It’s all clear,’ she whispers loudly.

She is high enough to give us warning if any guards come close, making this as safe as anywhere for the moment. If we were to leave now, we could end up stumbling into a group of Kingsmen. I
want us to take turns watching through the day but Faith refuses to come down. While the others snatch a few more hours of sleep, I sit at the bottom of the tree waiting for the relative safety of
darkness with my eyes closed, listening to the sounds of the woods and wishing I was home in Martindale.

As soon as dusk begins to settle, Faith clambers through the branches before landing next to me. I want to ask how she is, but her eyes are focused as she talks me through the locations of the
patrols. Most of the town is surrounded and it is clear the Kingsmen think we are hiding somewhere within the boundaries. The easiest way to get to Middle England would be by passing close to the
town but that is out of the question.

Using the map on my thinkwatch, Faith points me towards another village a few miles out of our way that will add another hour to the journey. Allowing her to guide us, we walk back the way we
originally came, keeping tight to the hedgerows and staying close together but stopping every fifteen minutes to allow Faith to shin up a tree and check for any Kingsmen patrols nearby. Because it
is dark, we are hoping the Kingsmen will be using something to light their path and give their position away.

As we emerge from the woods, we dip into a valley that contains the village Faith told us about. Even from a distance, we can see two different patches of light around the streets, with five or
six distinct torches in each group. I don’t know if they are Kingsmen, or the capture squads that Knave told me about, but we can’t risk going anywhere nearby. What should have been a
short walk turns into a trek that lasts most of the night as we continue heading out of our way for a few more miles until we finally begin moving north again.

At first I think we might have problems judging our position as we have moved so far away from where we were, but then as we trudge over the top of a hill, the wonder of Middle England stops us
all where we are standing.

Although we are still a few miles away, there are four beaming glass pillars of light towering into the air and turning night into day. Nobody speaks; our collective gasps of amazement say
enough about the majesty of what is in front of us.

Each tower sits in the corner of one of the Realms, North, South, East and West, with a spot in the centre that means a person can simultaneously be in all four areas at the same time. The
towers are our main trade hubs with each other.

On the train journey from Martindale to Windsor, I saw them from the ground, soaring so high that I couldn’t see the top. Even from a distance, the way the towers are lit makes it look as
if they are touching the sky; a true testament to what we can achieve as a people if we really want to. As it is, their magnificence overshadows in all ways the towns and villages which have been
burned to the ground on our journey to get here. Many people around the country starve on meagre rations, away from their homes and packed into city centres, even though we still have the
capability to produce something like the towers.

They are both hideous and beautiful – a perfect tribute to our King’s regime.

The light spreads for miles in all directions, meaning there is little point in us moving much closer. Our chances of finding Rom during the night seem minimal too, but Imrin spots some
buildings at the bottom of the hill we are standing on. They are partially caved in – four piles of bricks and tiles in a row that would once have been small houses. A path runs along in
front, connecting the derelict properties, but there are rough overgrown patches of grass on the other side, cutting them off from the edge of the inhabited areas that lead to the towers. At first
I am wary of straying too close to where other people might be, but the surroundings seem quiet and everyone could do with a night under a roof – even one that isn’t completely
intact.

Most of our tinned food has gone but Faith sets a line of snare traps on the edge of the field in the hope that something may stumble into them overnight. The way she ties her knots is so much
more advanced than anything I managed in Martindale and I find myself trying to memorise the movements of her hands as she zigzags and crosses the ropes intricately before expertly concealing the
tripwires and triggers.

Of the four homes, we pick the one that seems to be the most upright. I am convinced we are wasting our time and that there will not be enough space for us, but Imrin points to the corners of
the house which are still in place. We move a few pieces of wood aside and slide through a gap in the rubble until there is enough room for everyone, including Hart, to fit through. Inside, Imrin
is proven correct. Although the edges of the rooms are filled with dust, tiny stones and broken furniture, the centre of what would once have been a living room provides a large enough area for us
to rest in relative safety and comfort.

I want to find a moment alone with Imrin to talk through everything that has happened but it is so cold that we all huddle together under the blankets, using our body heat for warmth. Faith is
the only exception; she curls up silently in a corner away from the rest of us.

As I snuggle close to Imrin, so much of my body aches that it is difficult to know if it is solely from the walking or because my injuries haven’t yet healed. At the other end of the line,
I can hear Hart coughing gently but he is so adept at stifling it, no one but him notices how bad it is.

I close my eyes, wanting to drift off to sleep, but the memory of what Faith’s parents did and the way she wrapped herself around me in despair is so fresh that it feels as if her pain is
my own.

Imrin’s breathing quickly changes into the long gulps of sleep as I slowly feel my mind drifting back to the familiarity of the woods outside Martindale.

As I lie on the banks of the gully staring at the sky, I can hear Opie’s lumbering footsteps snapping twigs and scuffing across leaves. It is the day before the Reckoning and he is going
to ask me if I can help him cheat because he doesn’t want to risk being a Trog. He thinks he is sneaking up on me but has never had a gentle way of moving around.

Suddenly, I realise I am half-awake, aware of the room and Imrin’s arm across me and yet Opie’s footsteps still clump in my ears.

I open my eyes, staring towards the hole we created to enter the house, and it is only when I hear a man’s voice that I realise the footsteps aren’t Opie’s. Instead there are
two Kingsmen standing directly outside.

‘Cold tonight, innit?’

The strong, thick voice echoes around our space, waking everyone instantly. It is dark but I see five sets of eyes flash towards the men and then me as the others realise what is happening.
After we entered the dilapidated building, we wedged a piece of wood across the hole, but I thought it would be too much work to completely cover the entrance with stones from the inside,
especially as we seemed to be so far away from the rest of the inhabitants and were only going to be here for a matter of hours. Now I wish we had spent five more minutes concealing our
location.

Although the piece of wood covers most of the entrance hole, we can see the outlines of both Kingsmen leaning against the front of the house, their swords hanging limply from their waists.

‘Did they even give a reason why we all have to be out here?’ the other replies. ‘I can’t be bothered going into the woods. We’ll just say we did.’

The second voice is slightly higher-pitched than the first but the casualness of their conversation is something none of us would ever have associated with Kingsmen. To us, they are authority
figures in black but as they lean and chat, they seem more like men simply doing a job.

‘Just something about being more vigilant,’ the first man replies. ‘It’s been chaos all week since that castle stuff.’

‘I heard the girl was spotted a few miles away this morning.’

‘Silver Blackthorn?’

I feel a tingle slide along my back as everyone’s eyes again turn to me.

‘Aye. They spent hours looking for her but she either got away or wasn’t there to start with. Some of the lads got to tear a few houses down looking for her, mind.’

They both laugh but I cannot stop watching Faith through the dim light as the knowledge sinks in that the actions of her parents have torn apart more lives than we knew. She is still in the
corner of the room, cradling her knees to her chest, staring at the floor in shame.

We watch as the outline of the first man reaches down to scratch his thigh. ‘What do you reckon?’

‘Of the girl? Who knows? I don’t know what all the fuss is about – some kid with fancy hair. What do they think she’s going to do?’

‘There must be something in it. Have you heard the people in the towers talking about the Offering? They’re wondering what happens to all these kids after they get chosen.’

The second guard doesn’t sound overly bothered. ‘Not much you can do if one of them goes crazy and tries to kill the King though, is there?’

‘Did you see what happened? It was really confusing. There was no sound and these kids were on the screen and then the King was choking and coughing. They said she tried to kill him but
she was nowhere near him.’

Even without being able to see them from the waist up, it is obvious the second Kingsman feels uneasy. ‘I try to keep out of it,’ he says, trying to end the conversation.

‘Someone said they’ve taken a handful of us down to Windsor.’

‘Okay . . .’

‘Think about it. We only get new people in when one of us is killed. If they’ve got that many people being sent down there, what do you think happened?’

The second Kingsman suddenly sounds interested. ‘What are you saying?’