The Claws of Evil - By Andrew Beasley Page 0,47

life. He thought of the wreckage of his room and the destruction of his few meagre possessions, and knew that it had been the work of the Watchers. He thought of Mr. Smutts and the fire which almost consumed him and knew that the bird-headed demons must have been summoned by the Witch Queen. He thought of little Molly Marbank, and shuddered at her fate in the clutches of the Weeping Man.

So why was there still a small nagging voice at the back of his mind, warning him that he was about to make a terrible mistake?

Ben thought of his brother, Nathaniel, prisoner of the Watchers and the doubt was silenced completely. “Ask me again!” Ben snapped.

“Do you choose to join the Legion of your own free will?”

“I do,” said Ben firmly.

“To be one with us until death and beyond?”

“Till death and beyond.”

Carter gave a nod and Mickelwhite took Ben’s left hand and turned it over so that the palm was facing upwards. “This is going to sting,” Mickelwhite hissed in his ear.

“Welcome to the Legion, Ben Kingdom,” declared Claw Carter, pressing the branding iron into the soft flesh of his upturned hand.

Ben’s world turned white with pain.

“Hello, sleepyhead,” said a gentle voice.

Ben opened one eye, unsure of where he was. Then he felt the raw throbbing of his left hand and it all came rushing back.

“You,” said Ben, as he saw Ruby Johnson leaning over him. “I don’t need your help.” And to prove his point, he swung himself out of the bunk and promptly fell over.

“Take it easy,” said Ruby softly, bending down to help him back up. “Nobody gets up quickly after they have taken the Mark.”

Ben drew away from her touch as if she were a leper and struggled back onto the bed under his own steam.

They sat for a while in awkward silence.

“Why didn’t you tell me that you were following Carter’s orders when you brought me here?” asked Ben. “Why couldn’t you have been honest with me instead of going through that whole ridiculous charade of being my friend?”

“I am your friend,” she replied.

Ben winced as the pain in his palm really began to kick in.

“Here,” she said, “let me take a look at that. I’ve got some salve here that will help the stinging.”

Ben examined his hand for the first time. Burned into the skin was the image of a gauntlet, an armoured left fist. It hurt like anything, but it was a strong emblem, Ben thought. He took Ruby’s pot of greasy ointment and tentatively began to rub it in, doing his best not to wince.

“We all have one,” said Ruby, drawing off her glove to show her own hand. “It stands for strength and power,” she explained. “It reminds us that wherever we are, we will always be part of the Legion.” She trailed off slightly as she said it, making Ben wonder whether Ruby thought that was a good or bad thing.

Ben looked at the mark burned indelibly into his flesh. Despite the pain, he liked it. It reminded him of the tattoos that soldiers brought home from the wars; a sign of their brotherhood and adversities overcome.

“It shows that we belong,” said Ben.

“And that we can never leave.” There was definitely a sombre note in Ruby’s voice now, but Ben didn’t have time to question her because the barracks door opened and Mickelwhite strode in.

“Finally come back to the land of the living, have you?” said Mickelwhite.

“How long have I been asleep?” Ben asked Ruby.

“Hours,” she said. “You’ve missed a whole day. It’s getting dark outside again now.”

Ben shook off his fatigue and forced himself to stand.

“Report to the armoury in ten minutes,” snapped Mickelwhite. “Miss Johnson can fill you in on the way.”

“Where are we going?” Ben asked, still disorientated.

“To rescue your brother,” Mickelwhite answered, “and make the Watchers regret the day they ever heard the name ‘Kingdom’.”

Nathaniel Kingdom was standing on the roof of the Royal Albert Hall. A small pennant snapped in the wind, bearing the symbol of an open right hand; the sign of the Watchers.

There were lookouts high up on the dome itself, but Nathaniel was with the rest of the encampment, safely on the lower tier below. The Watchers had made him welcome, and yet he was still a stranger in their strange land. He wandered around, trying to make sense of everything that the Watchers had told him. He still couldn’t quite believe that the Watchers thought Ben was some sort of