Renegade (11 page)

The first guard lowers his voice. ‘People are saying the King’s lost it . . .’

‘Which people?’

‘Just . . .
people
.’ There is a definite edge of tension between the guards. ‘They’re saying that, if some girl can take out six or seven of us and try to kill
the King, then something strange must be going on down there. Have you ever seen so much coverage? It’s been on the screen every night and they’ve been giving out weapons so those
capture squads can hunt her as well – not to mention the reward.’

There is a snigger. ‘I wouldn’t mind a bit of that myself. Have you seen what they’re offering? A year’s worth of rations and promotion to Elite.’

Imrin gasps at the revelation, which is enough to make everyone else uneasy. It is perhaps no wonder that Faith’s parents betrayed us given what is on offer. In a warped display of
parenting, they might even have been hoping their daughter would be made an Elite. The other thing that occurs to me is that Knave and Vez’s plan is already in action whether I want to be a
part of it or not. People are already seeing me as something I’m not. I certainly didn’t kill six guards and the tan fruit that paralysed the King was unlikely to kill him. The myth is
already eclipsing the truth.

‘I’m sure we’ll get something if we bring her in,’ the first Kingsman says. ‘Those capture squads are just getting in the way. Did you hear what happened out
West?’

‘I’ve been on crackdown – tell me anyway.’

‘After the reward was bumped up the night before last, the streets were packed. It was hard work around here because there were all these people out after dark. We sent most of them home
because everyone was tripping over each other – but it was worse in other areas.’

‘What’s the point of hanging around the towns and cities? She’s not going to be hiding here, is she?’

I suppress a smile at how close they actually are.

‘You’re probably right but it doesn’t stop everyone trying to find her,’ the first Kingsman says. ‘Someone spotted some girl with dark hair out after sundown. One
guy shouted “there she is” and then all these groups set off chasing her. By the time our lot arrived, they’d strung her up from some pillar outside the town hall. Some bloke was
saying he was the one who killed her, so he deserved the reward.’

‘Idiot.’

‘The girl’s mother came out on the streets and was all over the place. She was grabbing onto the girl’s feet, crying and saying they’d got the wrong person but this guy
was still going on about how he deserved the reward.’

‘That’s what happens when you have these fools trying to do our jobs.’

‘We hung him next to her as a message to tell them all to calm down in future. She didn’t even have that silver streak.’

There is no sympathy in either of their voices for the girl or her mother; instead it is derision that someone has done a job badly. I can barely breathe and feel overwhelmed at the fact a girl
was murdered because she was mistaken for me.

‘Makes you think, doesn’t it?’ the first man says, moving his weight from one foot to the other. ‘We’ve got all these people out on the streets looking for her and
the Minister Prime was up here yesterday too. I saw him going into the North Tower but apparently he spent time in all four. What was he doing? I’ve never seen him here before.’

‘Who knows? It’s been a strange week.’

If what he says is right, it means Middle England is all the more important – although it doesn’t help us to find Rom. Faith crosses the room silently and sits closest to the door.
I’m not sure if she’s trying to hear better, or if something else is going on. She is looking in the opposite direction to where the Kingsmen are standing and I don’t want to risk
making a noise by trying to attract her attention.

‘How was crackdown then?’

The second Kingsman laughs. ‘I was out yesterday in a town just across the border in the East. There were a few problems with food last week so we went in big style to put a few of them in
their places.’

‘I’ve not been on crackdown for weeks,’ the first one replies. ‘You begin to get a bit itchy for it when you’re left on patrol.’

More laughing. ‘You’re right about that. It’s been a quiet month but we made up for it yesterday. We set fire to this house in the centre. As soon as the men came running out,
we were on them. That’s all it takes: make an example or two and the rest fall in line. By the time we were done, there wasn’t anyone complaining about their rations. It was fun while
it lasted.’

The first guard chuckles again but the atmosphere feels different among us. The Kingsmen at the castle rarely spoke but the brutality of these men is clear.

‘Do you think we’ve been away for long enough?’

There is a shuffling as the first Kingsman raises his wrist to check his thinkwatch. ‘Probably. We’ll head back slowly and say it was all quiet. I don’t know why they think
she’d be out here anyway. If she’s got any sense, she’ll be getting as far away as possible, not heading into trouble.’

I cannot meet anyone’s eyes; the Kingsman’s words make me feel selfish for doing exactly as he suggests – leading everyone into trouble. Imrin shakes his head slightly, reading
my mind, but it does nothing to reconcile my guilt.

The Kingsmen begin to walk away and I realise I must have been holding my breath because I let out a large gasp, instantly feeling better. The guards’ loud, leathery footsteps sound like
thunder retreating into the distance as a sense of calm flitters through us.

I am just about to ask Imrin what he thinks when a deep rasping cough roars uncontrollably out of Hart’s mouth, echoing around the room and escaping into the night.

Hart’s hand is in front of his mouth but it doesn’t stop the speckles of blood from splattering through his fingers onto the floor. There is only one way in and out
of the house and it feels as if everything has stopped for a moment – including the Kingsmen’s footsteps.

The pair of them had been walking away but now a silence envelops us until, terrifyingly, their footsteps begin to edge closer again.

I have often thought how strange it is that time seems to slow when I feel under the most pressure. I wonder if Imrin is seeing the room in the same way I am. Pietra and Jela both look to me,
panicked. Hart is doubled over, trying to stop himself coughing again, eyes bulging in fear and shame. Imrin is reaching for his knife, knees bent, ready for action as I see a vein in his neck
pulsing with adrenalin. Faith is crouching, coiled and ready for action. I reach for my own knife, determined to make sure that, if I am going to be captured, I am going to cause these two
creatures as much harm as I can in retribution for all the people they have bullied and butchered. The rage is boiling through me and yet, strangely, I feel perfectly calm. Each footstep is like a
call to action until the outlines of the Kingsmen are visible again. They stand still, silently plotting what to do, until one of them finally reaches down and takes hold of the wood that separates
us from them.

As it is ripped away, it is like there is a whooshing as time speeds up again. Faith springs forward with a cry of fury, pouncing through the small gap. She elbows the first Kingsman and punches
the second in the stomach before tearing off away from the house, her silhouette lit up by the moon and the bright white of the towers. We are so stunned that nobody moves and then, miraculously,
both Kingsmen turn and run after her. I want to shout after them, to draw them away from the chase, but to do so would bring them back towards more vulnerable people.

By the time I have reached the exit, the Kingsmen are already following Faith along the pathway back the way we came. I edge into the garden, looking both ways to see if there are any other
Kingsmen but the only sign of movement is the blur of the black figures lagging behind Faith. She continues to pull away from them, racing expertly up the bank towards the woods, before veering
sideways, leaping over a metal gate, and heading back towards us on the field side of the hedge.

The Kingsmen follow and after a short time they are out of view. I keep watching the path until they come into sight again, having turned to start moving back towards the house. I duck out of
view, watching their dark helmets bob behind the row of greenery. The others are tumbling out of the building behind me. Hart is apologising repeatedly but the only response I offer is to tell
everyone to go back inside. Faith is my sole concern as I leave the building and race towards the path, pulling off my hat and pocketing it, grasping my knife in the other hand. As soon as the
Kingsmen see my hair, they should switch to chasing me, which will keep the others safe and allow Faith to escape.

As I reach the road, there is a scraping sound and Faith emerges through a gap in the hedge. Her blonde hair is caked with mud and there is a smear of blood across her top lip. She is breathing
heavily, using both hands to carry a pair of swords. I watch disbelievingly as she walks towards me, weighed down by the physical burden of the weapons, before she drops them at my feet, along with
two knives that she unclips from her belt.

‘What happened?’ I ask.

She shrugs. ‘I dealt with them.’

‘Are you all right?’ Jela asks from behind me. Although I wanted everyone else to stay hidden, no one has had a chance to return inside.

I look at the blades on the ground, expecting blood, but they are clean.

‘Come,’ Faith says with a nod of her head, turning and heading towards the hedge.

In the field, both Kingsmen have been caught in Faith’s snares. Their legs are entwined with ropes and she has tied their hands behind their backs, stuffed one of their own gloves into
each of their mouths, and wrapped more string around their faces to keep them there.

It would have been impressive for anyone to have taken down two fully armed Kingsmen in such a way, but for a girl half their size, it is astonishing.

I unclip each of their thinkwatches as they stare at me in disbelief, now aware of how close they were to claiming the bounty. The metal is a greyish-black, perhaps borodron but it is hard to
know for sure.

‘What are we going to do with them?’ Jela asks.

‘Just kill them,’ Faith says dismissively.

The lack of emotion in her voice breaks my heart as I remember the girl hugging her mother yesterday. She is staring at the ground, refusing to look at anyone, least of all the two people she
wants dead. Imrin and Hart are carrying the men’s swords and look at each other awkwardly, wondering if they are the ones who should do the deed. The Kingsmen themselves are unmoving. They
know this will be the fate that awaits them in any case, should anyone find out they had been so close to me and let me get away.

‘We’ll vote,’ I say, not wanting to make the decision. ‘Who’s with Faith?’ My anger from a few minutes ago seems so misplaced that I cannot bring myself to
use the word
kill
.

Faith and Imrin put their hands in the air straight away, Jela following suit almost reluctantly, her arm bent at the elbow and barely reaching above her head.

‘Who wants to keep them alive?’

We seem unable to look each other in the eye as, for a moment, I don’t think anyone is going to vote. Hart, whose chin and hands are still a mottled mess of blood, slowly raises his arm
and shakes his head. ‘It will make us like them.’

‘We’re already like them,’ Faith says harshly.

‘Not yet. We’ve only killed when we’ve had to. They do it for fun.’

Pietra peers up from the floor until she is staring directly at me and then raises her arm high above her head. ‘It’s up to you,’ she says.

I think of the Kingsman whose throat I slit; the way the blood dripped and his eyes bulged. I know that if I vote to kill them, I’m going to be the one who does it. I don’t want two
more people’s deaths to be on anyone else’s conscience but mine. Imrin is gripping the sword tightly, ready to do whatever I say, but Faith hasn’t moved.

‘I’m sorry, Faith,’ I say. ‘We’ll tie them up but that’s it.’

I want her to be angry with me, to call me names and say that I’m soft and wrong. Instead, she shrugs uncaringly, pulling a knife from her boot and cutting the Kingsmen free from her
traps. Hart and Imrin use the swords to direct them to the house we slept in. They are emotionless, doing what they’re told and not trying to fight.

Inside, we strip their armour, cover them each in a blanket and let Faith tie them as securely as she sees fit. The biggest surprise is how small the men are. From the curves and shape of the
armour, I would have expected them to be built like Opie: tall, with broad shoulders and a thick chest. Instead, the borodron armour is designed cleverly, giving the illusion the men are far more
imposing than they actually are.

With the two Kingsmen secure, I remove the cord from around their faces and take the gloves from their mouths, nodding towards Imrin and Hart, who are nearby with the swords. ‘Regardless
of how we voted, if either of you try to escape or create any noise, then we won’t hesitate a second time.’

Neither of them acknowledges me but I take a container of water out of my bag and they accept the drink.

‘Who’s Rom?’ I ask.

No reply.

‘How many more Kingsmen are there around this area?’

The one with the higher-pitched voice, who revelled so blissfully in telling the story of the crackdown, has not taken his eyes from me.

‘You’re wasting your time,’ he says firmly. ‘If you’re not going to kill us, then what else are you going to do? We both know you haven’t got the guts to
torture us until we talk.’

He’s right and the mocking tone of his voice slices through me.

The Kingsman’s eyes flicker towards Faith: ‘She’d do it. Why don’t you ask her?’

I reach forward and grab his chin, twisting it until he is facing me again. ‘Don’t look at her.’

His lips curl upwards slightly in a sneer of defiance. ‘Whatever you say,
Silver Blackthorn
.’

Somehow he makes my name sound like an insult.

‘Who’s Rom?’ I ask again.