with a crushed windpipe, would he? It was only a small consolation however, because he would be unconscious in a couple of seconds. Or possibly dead.
All at once, Mickelwhite released him and all the boys stepped backwards, leaving Ben gasping on the floor.
I’ve won! Ben told himself triumphantly as he massaged his bruised throat.
Then he saw why they had stopped.
Then again, thought Ben, maybe not.
Benjamin Kingdom is not best pleased to see me. That was Carter’s first thought, as he stood in the doorway with Ruby Johnson at his side. When they saw him, the young men in Captain Mickelwhite’s brigade slapped their clenched left fists to their right shoulders in the Legion salute, which Carter returned, but his gaze never left Ben.
There was such a lot of anger in that young man. Carter could see it in his eyes and the defiance of his stance. He smiled; that would be a very useful attribute if it could be channelled in the right direction. He remembered the secret writings in the Dark Library; rage had always been a favourite tool of the Legion, and Ben Kingdom was full to the brim. One little push might be all it took for Ben to start irrevocably down the black path that would lead to his destiny as the Hand of Hell. And Carter’s own personal champion, naturally.
The Watchers were very keen on mercy and forgiveness, which some would say was to their credit, but in the matter of war, Carter always found wrath to be a far more effective weapon.
“Benjamin,” he said, performing a pantomime of concern. “Thank goodness you’re safe! I’m relieved that Miss Johnson was able to find you. I have some bad news for you, Ben.”
“I’m listening.” Ben was still incensed, but Carter could see that he had piqued his interest. Carter spun the moment out a little longer, keeping Ben in anticipation.
“It’s your brother Nathaniel, I’m afraid,” he said sombrely. “The Watchers have captured him.”
“What? How? And what do you care anyway?” Ben spat back at him. “When I came to you, you didn’t want to lift a finger for my family.”
“I was wrong, Ben,” said Carter, continuing to pour out soothing words. “I was so excited about the prospect of you joining me in the Legion that I lost sight of what was really important.”
“So you’ll help me rescue Nathaniel? Find my pa?” The tone of Ben’s voice had changed and Carter knew that he was winning.
“I’ll do everything I can,” said Carter, and the look of relief on Ben’s face told him that the battle was his.
“I’m so glad that we are seeing eye to eye again, Ben.” Carter smiled, and for a fraction of a second Ben smiled back. If Ben was going to be the Hand, it was important for the Legion to stake their claim before the Watchers had their chance. He pushed his advantage home. “We will rescue Nathaniel,” Carter continued, “but first I want you to do something for me.”
“Name it,” said Ben. “And then we can get going.”
It was all too easy, Carter thought.
“Captain Mickelwhite, please be so kind as to stoke up the fire.”
“I’m sorry to disturb you, Great Mother, but I bring news.”
Mother Shepherd knew from the tone of Jago Moon’s voice that the matter was grave. She moved slowly, using the time to prepare herself. Age had made a slave of her limbs but that didn’t matter to her; she didn’t have to hurry for anyone. In all her long years, she had learned a thing or two, and if she had any virtues, then patience was one of them. How much of her life had been spent rushing, imagining that speed was of the essence? She knew that it was possible to race your whole life away and never stop for a moment and pause to consider those things that truly mattered.
Issues of life.
And death.
And what comes after.
She supposed that the church they were in must be cold; these huge echoing buildings always were. Yet she did not feel a chill in her old bones. Candlelight warmed a path ahead of her, but the real fire was the one that stirred her heart. The spark of her God, the Uncreated One, inside her soul. She could feel it; a living, breathing, palpable presence. It gave direction to her life and purpose to her steps.
She was content that the eyrie was well placed for the night, safely established on top of the Old Bailey. Everyone had shared