He moved his hand and now Alfie saw that he was holding something on the ground. The Raven Banner.
“Oh, and thanks for saving me a trip to get this. I promise I won’t lose it like you did.”
Alfie reached up with a shaking hand and removed his armour. He took a step closer to his brother.
“Richard, are you all right? What are you doing here? What’s going on?”
“Let’s call it a little … revolution,” Richard said, and then jumped over the iron railings and plunged towards the floor.
“RICHARD!” Alfie screamed.
He ran to the railings, just in time to see his brother transform into the Black Dragon, his bones elongating and cracking, leathery wings unfolding and scales growing in an instant, covering his monstrous head and jaws. With one powerful pump of his wings, the Dragon pulled up from the dive, circled the interior of the church, then swooped back over Alfie’s head and smashed back out through the hole in the dome, flying into the storm.
Alfie fell to his knees, trembling, almost unable to take in what he had just seen with his own eyes.
IT’S RICHARD. THE BLACK DRAGON IS MY BROTHER.
* * *
* “SILENCE, SLAVES!”
Alfie had been crying.
He was sitting on the lead roof at the top of the White Tower, the central fortress of the Tower of London, and thinking about the first time he had ever set foot here. He and Richard were nine years old, and they couldn’t have been more excited. The Tower had been closed to the public for the princes’ visit, not that they realized that, of course. This was back when they were yet to learn not everyone gets to be escorted by the police through traffic, and to be greeted by a waiting crowd of well-wishers and beefeaters standing to attention. They had the run of the place, chasing each other through the courtyards and exhibits, wrestling on the grass next to the chopping block, running, screaming, from the ravens after one of them pecked Richard’s finger. Alfie hadn’t even slowed down to look at the Crown Jewels – growing up in the palace, he’d seen plenty of dusty old gems and swords before. But he remembered that his brother had stopped, fixing the display behind the glass with a serious stare, as if he was in a trance. In the end Alfie had grown bored of waiting and left him there to go and check out the toys in the gift shop.
Now, as he gazed south over the river, Alfie wondered if Richard had already started to resent him back then. He had always thought his brother didn’t care about being the “spare”, but what if he had been wrong? What if Richard had always hated him?
Alfie couldn’t get the image of his brother changing into the Black Dragon out of his head – the twisting limbs, the rage etched across his monstrous face. He closed his eyes and gripped the railing that ran around the battlements. This was worse than the feeling he’d had when his father died. Worse than the turmoil of the Succession when he’d been sure he was losing his mind. Worse than when he had found out – thought he’d found out – that his trusted teacher Professor Lock was really a monster and his family were in terrible danger. How could he not have seen what was there right in front of him all this time? Richard had killed their father. He had tried to kill Alfie too, at the coronation. What had happened to Richard? How could the loving twin he had known his whole life have become so evil?
A whistle drew Alfie’s attention to the courtyard below. Yeoman Eshelby was letting his birds out of their cages for the day, patting them on their shiny black heads as they hopped past him. Perhaps sensing someone watching, the Ravenmaster looked up and saw the young king standing on the tower. He gave a formal nod and carried on tending to the ravens. Alfie wiped his eyes. Everyone in the Keep must know by now, he thought miserably.
Car horns blared from the traffic jam on Tower Bridge as if it were just another normal summer’s day. The Vikings hadn’t been seen since they were paid off, and the prime minister was basking in the nation’s praise. “THE DEAD REST IN PEACE!” the headlines shouted in glee as the country heaved a huge collective sigh of relief. The storms had disappeared, the sun was shining again and the only worry on the horizon seemed to be whether Kate Robertson could win her first Wimbledon title. Alfie could only imagine their panic if they knew what he knew. The Black Dragon was still out there, dreaming up dark schemes with Professor Lock, cooking up the next phase of their plan. Something terrible was coming and—
“I’m so sorry.”
Alfie had not heard the Lord Chamberlain come out on to the rooftop. He looked even older than normal. Deep worry-lines fanned across his brow like a crinkled road map.
“He tried to tell me, you know. At Ellie’s party,” said Alfie. “He said it was all my fault. Did I do this to him?”
LC moved closer, placing a hand on Alfie’s shoulder. “None of this is your fault. If it is anyone’s, it is mine. I should have seen this sooner. It makes perfect sense now.”
“Sense?” Alfie brushed his hand away. “None of this makes any sense!”
“I understand, Majesty. All I mean is the Black Dragon – how it came to be. It was Richard’s blood, the royal blood that Lock needed to combine the power of King Alfred’s crown with the dragon bones and create a new creature. That was what I was missing. It’s so obvious now.”
“But why hide who he was after the coronation? Richard could have killed me any time he wanted!”
“I don’t know, Majesty. But they went to great lengths to make sure we obtained the Raven Banner for them.”
“What do they want with that stupid flag? It doesn’t even work.”
“Not in the way we intended. But perhaps Lock knows something we don’t. Whatever it is, we must hunt them down before they have time to execute their plan. Defeat them once and for all. Lock and the Black Dragon.”
“You mean Richard?” Alfie said. There was something in LC’s troubled expression he didn’t like at all. “What is it?”
“Majesty, I have known you and your brother since the day you were born. I may not be the best at showing it, but I care for you both, very much. Perhaps if this had come to light earlier, but now…”
“What are you saying, LC?”
The old man stiffened and raised his head, as if addressing the audience at a state banquet. “Prince Richard has made his choice. He is a traitor and must be dealt with as such. The Defender must kill the Black Dragon.”
Alfie felt his legs wobble beneath him. Did LC really just say that to him? “You want me to…” Alfie could hardly bring himself to say it. “To kill my own brother?!”
“He is no longer your brother, sir. He is your enemy. And make no mistake, this is war.”
Alfie pushed past him, towards the door. “I can’t listen to any more of this.”
“Majesty, we must all stand firm and face this battle together!” LC pleaded.
Alfie swung open the door, only to march straight into Hayley. She burst on to the roof, out of breath after running up the staircase.
“Miss Hicks, now is not the time,” began LC.
But she held up her phone, silencing him. “You’d better make time. ’Cos you need to hear this. Both of you.”
She pressed play. At first all they could hear was a low rumble, like engines turning. But then an automated voice spoke:
“Leave your message after the beep.”
Alfie and LC recognized the next voice immediately, even though he was talking in an uncharacteristic whisper.
“It’s me,” said Brian’s voice on the tape. “We have the banner. We’re on the way back from Oslo now. They’re planning to use it at the handover. But keep your distance. I think the girl suspects something. I’ll call again when I can.”
The recording ended. LC and Alfie looked at each other in stunned silence.
Minutes later they sat opposite Brian in the Keep as the message played again. LC had commanded the Yeoman Warders to vacate the room, though he told two of them to guard the doors and listen out in case he summoned them. Alfie was disturbed by what he had heard, but he was sure
Brian would have a good explanation. The phone message came to an end once more, and LC fixed Brian with a penetrating stare.
“Well? Explain yourself, King’s Armourer. For whom were you leaving this message?”
Brian hadn’t stopped looking at Hayley, a cold, hard expression Alfie had not seen before on his bodyguard’s face. Only now did Brian turn to the Lord Chamberlain.
“Sorry, guv, but I can’t tell you that,” he replied.
LC sprung forward. “WHAT DID YOU SAY?!” Alfie actually thought the old man was going to hit Brian. “YOU HAVE PASSED SECRET INFORMATION TO PARTIES UNKNOWN, AND YOU WILL EXPLAIN YOURSELF!”
Brian barely flinched and kept his stony silence. Nearby, Herne got up and paced back and forth, restless. The hair on his back stood up and he growled at Brian, low and deep. Alfie, his head spinning, stepped in between them.
“Please, Brian, just tell us what’s going on and we can forget it.”
Brian leant back in his chair and sighed. “Sorry, kid, no can do.”
“YOU ARE ADDRESSING YOUR SOVEREIGN!”
LC was purple with rage and he coughed and stumbled for a moment. Alfie helped him back to his chair. Hayley kept her eyes on the floor.
All were quiet for a few moments. The Yeoman Warders who had been guarding the doors had rushed in when they heard the shouting and now they stood, pikes at the ready, unsure what to do.
“Is there nothing you wish to say in your defence?” LC croaked.
Brian stared at the wall, unmoved. “No.”
LC wiped sweat from his brow with a handkerchief, his hand shaking. “Yeoman Warders, take the Armourer to the cells,” he commanded. “Inform the Jailer.”
The startled beefeaters exchanged a glance, then walked over to Brian and pulled him to his feet. Alfie looked to LC and Hayley in disbelief, but neither met his gaze.
“Wait!” Alfie shouted. “This is wrong, you can’t do this! If Brian says he had his reasons, then that’s good enough for me.”
But Brian smiled at him. “It’s OK, chief.” And then he allowed the beefeaters to escort him from the Map Room.
Alfie felt numb. First he had lost his brother. And now Brian? It felt like the cornerstones of his world were crumbling into dust, one by one. Unable to hold his tongue, he turned on Hayley.
“What have you done?” he snapped.
“What are you having a go at me for?” said Hayley, shocked. “How about ‘thanks, Hayley, for watching my back’?”
“I told you to drop it, and look what’s happened now.”
“You ungrateful little—”
Yells interrupted them from outside the Map Room. At first Alfie thought maybe it was just somebody else joining in the screaming match, but then he realized it was coming from the direction in which the Yeoman Warders had taken Brian. They rushed into the corridor to see one beefeater lying unconscious on the floor and the other doubled-up in the corner, holding his stomach and groaning.
“What happened? Where is the prisoner?” shouted LC.
A secret passageway was open in one wall, pumping out cold draughts of air. Alfie ran over to it and looked inside. It snaked away into darkness.
Brian was gone.
“And how about the recent supernatural events here in London? Has it been a distraction?”
Kate Robertson smiled at the interviewer and leant in to the microphone. “The only thing that scares me is not playing my best out there today. It’ll take more than a few mangy old Vikings to stop me trying to win this title.”
The spectators watching the replay of the interview on the big screen inside Wimbledon’s Centre Court erupted into raucous cheers. A chant echoed around the arena: “Ka-tie, Ka-tie, Ka-tie.” The Women’s Singles finalists were not due on court for another half hour, but already the atmosphere was electric. Robertson was the first British woman to get this far since Virginia Wade way back in 1977, and no one with a ticket was going to miss this. The sun was shining, the Vikings were history (again) and life was returning to normal.
Princess Eleanor took her seat in the royal box and scanned the rows around her. She was surrounded by familiar faces – movie stars, celebrities and aristocrats – but she wasn’t here to spot famous people. Ellie was all about the sport. She still hoped to compete in gymnastics at the Olympics one day. Superheroes like the Defender were one thing – and he had saved her from the Black Dragon at the coronation – but she couldn’t help feeling that having all those superpowers and gadgets was cheating. Sports stars like Kate Robertson, who got to the top through sheer hard work and determination, were her real heroes.
Ellie’s phone buzzed and she took it out to see the word “Twerp” on the screen. It was her current nickname for Alfie, ever since he’d left her party early and not even bothered to say sorry. She didn’t want to ruin her good mood by talking to him right now, so she let the call go to voicemail and settled back to enjoy the build-up to the big match. Robertson’s opponent was three-time champion Svetlana Volkov, “the Russian Wolf”. Win or lose, this was going to be brutal.
Alfie hung up, frustrated. Why wouldn’t Ellie answer his call? The Keep had been on high alert all night, but Alfie had never felt so alone. He had to see Ellie and warn her about what had happened to their brother. He didn’t know how he could begin to tell her, or how he could even make her believe him, but he had decided that he couldn’t leave her in the dark any longer. Normally he would have talked to Hayley about what had happened with Richard, but Alfie was still too angry with her. The Lord Chamberlain, meanwhile, was busy marshalling the beefeaters as they attempted to relocate Lock and the Black Dragon, to get some sense of when and from where the next strike would come. Every time Alfie tried to bring up the issue of his brother, LC only said the same thing: “Nothing is more important than loyalty, Majesty. Nothing.”
That’s the problem, thought Alfie. Who am I supposed to be loyal to – my country, or my brother? True, Richard had done something terrible, but Alfie wanted to understand why. Was it his fault? Or was Richard sick? What had Lock done to him? How could LC condemn Richard when they still had no idea how he had turned into the Black Dragon?
Hayley walked into the Mess and a hush descended over the Yeoman Warders in the breakfast queue. She could tell they had been talking about her. She took a plate of bacon and eggs that she didn’t really feel like eating and sat down at one of the long tables. But the beefeaters who had been sitting there got up and moved. Only Brenda remained, but even she looked uncomfortable.
“What did I do wrong?” Hayley pleaded.
“Brian’s one of us, Hayley.”
“And I’m not?”
“That’s not what I said. I can’t explain what Brian’s been up to, but I know one thing – he’s no traitor. I just wish you’d talked to me about it first.”
Brenda drained her tea and left. Hayley was devastated. She’d only tried to protect Alfie, but now it felt like she was losing her family all over again.
LC stormed into the Map Room, arguing with the Ravenmaster. “The ravens can look after themselves for once. I need every hand at their post!”
“My birds haven’t even had their breakfast yet,” protested the beefeater. “Don’t blame me when they start pecking the tourists!”
“We have bigger problems than unhappy tourists, Yeoman Ravenmaster. We must track down the Black Dragon!”
Alfie noticed how LC didn’t use the name “Richard” when he talked about his brother. It was like he didn’t exist any more. Easier to order his death that way, Alfie supposed. For him it wasn’t that easy. Richard was still his brother, no matter what he had done. If he could just talk to him…
“What do you think you’re doing?!”
LC had just discovered another beefeater hiding in a corner watching the Wimbledon tennis TV coverage and scoffing chocolate bourbons.
“Our enemies are out there somewhere plotting heaven-knows-what and you are watching television! All tea breaks are cancelled until further not
ice!”
The Yeoman Warders grumbled with indignation and returned to their desks. Of course, thought Alfie, Wimbledon – that’s where Ellie is! He made for the door, but LC headed him off.
“Majesty, please wait. I have an important mission for you.”
“Sorry, LC, I’ve got my own mission. I have to warn Ellie about Richard. If he tries anything, she needs to be ready.”
“But, Majesty,” spluttered LC, “that would mean telling her your secret, telling her you are the Defender. You can’t—”
“Ellie lost her dad too, and she doesn’t even know why. And if she’s about to lose her brother as well… She deserves to know the truth.”
The Lord Chamberlain sighed. He could see that Alfie’s mind was made up. “Very well. But I implore you, let us bring her here first, for her own safety. I’ll send Chief Yeoman Seabrook to fetch her himself. But in the meantime, I need the Defender’s help.”
Alfie didn’t want to fight LC any more than he had to. At least he was trying to compromise. He turned back from the door with a sigh. “What’s the mission?”
“The prime minister. She is a fool if she thinks the Viking threat has passed. The armed forces should be on high alert, but she has buried her head in the sand. Someone needs to make her see sense.”
“And by someone, you mean…”
“If the Defender were to talk to her one-on-one, to show that his intentions were good, perhaps she would listen.”
“Talking to Thorn is not my idea of fun, LC. But say I went along with this. Where exactly am I supposed to have this meeting with her?”
LC cleared his throat. Clearly Alfie wasn’t going to like the sound of what came next. “Number Ten, Downing Street, Majesty.”
“TEN, DOWNING STREET? You mean, the house where the prime minister lives? The most secure building in Britain apart from this place?”
“If you would just hear me out, sir. We have a plan. Yeoman Gillam!”
A rosy-cheeked beefeater hurried over carrying a leather box. Alfie recognized him as Brian’s apprentice, who spent most of his time polishing the regalia. He was timid for a beefeater, with no hint of a beard, which made him unique among the tower guard, aside from the women Yeomen. Well, most of them.
Dark Age Page 15
