Felix Jones and The Dawn Of The Brethren

by Julian Roderick

  Felix Jones

  and

  The Dawn

  Of

  The Brethren

  A Felix Jones Adventure

  Julian Roderick

  Copyright © 2016 Julian Roderick

  KINDLE Edition

  All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book, or portions thereof in any form. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored, in any form or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical without the express written permission of the author.

  This is a work of fiction. Names and characters are the product of the author’s imagination and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

  PublishNation, London

  www.publishnation.co.uk

  For Matt and Tom who, at the age of 13, are fast becoming historical advisors for The Felix Jones Adventures and who keep reminding me not to mess with religion!

  To all those people, friends, family and complete strangers who have been pestering me for the third adventure. Thank you for your support, I’m glad you’re enjoying the books.

  Thank you to Vicky for listening to my random ideas for Felix, Tom and Poppy at the strangest times of day and night. Vampires are now a distant memory!

  And once again, huge thanks to my little sister Claire and my father Ken, for proof reading my scribbles so efficiently and for giving me many hours of amusement choosing between the use of language - ancient or modern?

  Titles by this author:

  The Felix Jones Adventure series

  Felix Jones and The Book of Words

  Felix Jones and The Honour of the Keeper

  Felix Jones and the Dawn of The Brethren

  Felix Jones and the Treasure of The Typhon

  Visit the author

  Twitter: @RoderickAuthor

  Facebook: J Roderick Author

  1

  The crowd went wild as they played their final number. Felix and Tom stood on pedestals playing to the screaming dancers below them. The end of term Christmas concert was always a hit at Queen Anne’s School. Their guitars pointing to the ceiling, they fell to their knees for the final chord. That was Poppy’s signal to dim the lights and start the indoor fireworks. The band and the stage were lit like a Christmas carnival. The explosion sent the crowds into raptures of applause. White smoke from the dry ice billowed over the ecstatic students. It was the black smoke creeping from the caretaker’s storeroom that caused the guitarists to leap from the stage into the crowd. Felix and Tom knew the quickest way to the changing area and storeroom was to crowd surf. Their fellow students obliged, passing them enthusiastically over their heads. Within seconds the pair retrieved their swords from the guitar cases and had joined Poppy and Young Buckley at the back of the school hall.

  As the crowd filed out into the cold evening air they were oblivious to events unfolding at the back of the dimly lit school hall.

  “The Keeper, Felix Jones. Where are you?”

  The low gravelly growl always sent a shiver down Felix’s spine. He knew that his broadsword was the only weapon capable of halting the monsters that were about to burst through the door. The responsibility he felt to protect his friends sometimes got the better of him. Officially they were the Guardians of The Book of Words and the Keeper but Felix did not want them to do as their ancestors had vowed and die protecting him and the Book.

  “Here we go again!”

  Tom rolled his eyes at Poppy, who relished every battle. Ready for action, she smiled back at him.

  The Brethren burst through the door, smashing it and the frame into splinters. Their hideous faces stared intently from below the brown leather hoods. The sabres they brandished were stained with the blood of centuries of battle. Before Felix could blink Poppy had sprung into action and charged at the monks.

  “Come on Buckley!” Tom shouted as he joined her.

  If they could hold the doorway only a few of the Brethren could get through. Felix could then pick them off one by one. The clash of steel once again rang in Felix’s ears. He stood behind the brave Guardians who fought with sabres they knew could not harm their foe. One of the Brethren struck young Buckley across his stomach. His blood dripped onto the wooden floor. Tom and Poppy forced the front row of three monks’ swords up above their heads. Felix dived through and with one swipe across all three midriffs brought the screaming monsters’ lives to an end. Their skin and muscle melted until all that was left was a pile of grey bones on the floor.

  Felix retreated and left Tom and Poppy to thwart the next line of the half human, half skeleton attackers. He ripped off the sleeve from his shirt and handed it to the prone caretaker.

  “Hold this on the cut and press down.”

  Felix looked worried. Buckley’s father had died to protect him, and he did not want Mrs Buckley grieving another loss because of him.

  “I’ll be fine,” croaked Buckley.

  Sure that the caretaker would survive, Felix swung back into action. Poppy was laughing as she fended off the relentless blows from the Brethren. Tom gave the signal to push up and Felix pounced again. It wasn’t long before all that lay in the doorway was a pile of bones, in a river of Buckley’s blood.

  “How many of these things are there?” asked Tom.

  “Twelve less than there were!” Poppy wiped her sabre clean and put it back in her hockey stick bag.

  “This has to stop!” said Felix as he returned to Buckley’s side. “You OK?”

  “Just a scratch. Don’t know how I’ll explain this to my mother though!”

  “You’ll think of something.” Tom said reassuringly as he helped Buckley back to his feet.

  “I’d be more worried about explaining the damage to Mr Moreton!” Poppy was picking up pieces of wood which had once been the storeroom door.

  Felix looked inside the storeroom. “Boiler explosion! They came through the pipes to the boiler this time.”

  “They come through the water but how can we stay away from water or pipes?” exclaimed Tom.

  Felix pulled The Book of Words from his back pocket. The tatty old leather book had brought nothing but death and destruction since he had been named as the Keeper of The Book of Words.

  “How can I end this?” he screamed at the Book.

  He turned to the second page and waited for the answer to appear.

  ‘You can only go back to move forward.’

  “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

  Felix threw The Book of Words across the hall.

  Poppy picked it up and gave Felix a huge hug as she handed it back. She placed the boys’ weapons and instruments back in their cases and the three friends gingerly helped Buckley back to the caretaker’s cottage at the top of the school drive.

  “What have you done this time you clumsy oaf?” asked Mrs Buckley.

  “He was hit by wood when the boiler exploded,” explained Felix, hoping that he sounded believable.

  She rolled her eyes in exasperation. “Let’s get you to hospital to get it checked out.”

  “A plaster will do the trick,” said young Buckley. “And a shot of brandy!”

  Exhausted, they bid the Buckleys goodnight and made their way across the pitch black common. Tom and Felix walked Poppy home.

  “Great scrap again!” she declared.

  “At least one of us is enjoyi
ng this!” exclaimed Felix.

  “It is kind of fun,” said Tom smiling at Poppy.

  “We can’t go on like this. We don’t know when they will come again.” Felix was fed up of battling with no end in sight.

  “We don’t even know why they want this flaming book other than to take over the world somehow.”

  Tom began giggling. Poppy was soon in fits of laughter too, leaning on her garden gate for support.

  “What’s so funny? Do you two know how worried I am about you?”

  Felix joined in the laughter as he realised he was sounding like their Headmaster, Wonky Donkey.

  “We’ll figure out what to do next in the morning,” Felix announced.

  “Hopefully things will be clearer after a good night’s sleep.” Tom waved to them both and headed up the alleyway towards his house. Poppy smiled and ran towards the High Street to meet some of her other friends outside the chip shop. Felix walked slowly back towards the common and home. He sensed he was being followed but each time he glanced over his shoulder he could see nothing suspicious. He wondered what tomorrow would bring - he had learned over time that it would definitely be interesting.

  2

  For a change, Felix enjoyed a lie in. It was Saturday and he wasn’t meeting Tom and Poppy until eleven. Tom had a school rugby match and Poppy was shopping with her mother. Felix spent the morning trying to put together a plan to put an end to the Brethren and their raids to capture him and The Book of Words. They had gone back in time to find the first Keeper, King Arthur, and found that he had experienced the same problem. The Brethren kept turning up time after time, using water to travel to where they found clusters of Guardians. If only he had managed to keep the map and the page of the Book ripped out by Arthur’s son Mordred. He knew the Brethren wouldn’t be able to find them if they hadn’t been given that page. In Berlin 1944 he had stolen the page back from Hitler only to lose it whilst escaping with Emile. How could he stop them?

  Felix arrived first and took up his usual position sat on the old tree stump at the edge of the common. It was eleven o’clock exactly. Poppy arrived soon after him and they could see Tom rushing up the school drive covered in mud after his match. He looked really odd with his rugby kit and a guitar case strapped to his back. Tom and Felix had always been inseparable and now Poppy was like their adopted sister.

  “Sorry I’m late!” said Tom. “Taylor wouldn’t blow the final whistle until we had won.”

  “Well done mate.” Felix was always there to support Tom.

  “We didn’t win! They got the ball and scored again so Taylor gave up.”

  The three of them laughed as they wandered towards the high street for a lunch of fish and chips.

  “Have you heard the news?” asked Tom. “Wonky Donkey is missing!”

  “What? First our fencing instructor and now Wonky!” exclaimed Felix.

  “What’s going on? That’s five people gone missing over the last month from around here!” Poppy knew there would be no answers.

  “That’s all we need!” stated Tom.

  “Just ignore them. It’ll be fine.” Felix knew the chances of passing Curly’s gang without incident were minimal. Curly Higgins was one of the school hard knocks who had a flock of equally nasty kids who followed him like sheep. Usually the gangs just sparred with each other for top dog position but when none of them were around anyone was fair game.

  “I just wish we could get out our swords and stick it to them!” Poppy was always ready for a scrap. “I know, keep my mouth shut and keep walking.” Felix had developed a stare that said ‘Don’t you dare!’

  Tom began brushing mud off his face and straightening his matted floppy hair.

  “There she is!” Tom was goggle eyed and staring into the chip shop.

  Poppy rolled her eyes at Felix when she saw ‘The Barbies’ queuing in front of them. Tom was head over heels in love with Emma, their nominal leader. Felix shoved Tom in the back to bring him out of his trance.

  “She’s gorgeous!”

  The Barbies were the ‘It’ girls of Queen Anne’s School. Mostly long blonde - dyed or natural - hair, caked in make-up and dressed like wannabe models in short skirts and high heels.

  “No chance the state you’re in!” Tom could always count on Felix for a reality check.

  “She does like you,” blurted Poppy. “I heard them talking in the toilets the other day.”

  “Hi Emma!” said Tom as he caught her eye. He went bright red.

  “What do you want, sad git?” Emma snarled at Tom. She didn’t take her eyes off him.

  Curly and his minions barged past Tom to join the queue behind the girls. The showing off soon began.

  Curly pushed his chest out like a strutting peacock ready to impress the ladies and anyone else watching. He summoned Bingo his right hand man to buy him a bag of chips, Bingo passed the order down the chain of command. Curly turned and stared straight into Emma’s blue eyes. He ran his fingers through his greased back hair.

  “Helllloooo ladies!” Curly sounded about as smooth as sandpaper.

  The girls giggled and turned red. ‘Why do the girls always go for the idiots?’ thought Felix.

  “Coming down the common to the stump?” Curly continued.

  “Yes!” replied Emma eagerly. “Can all my friends come too?”

  “Of course!” Bingo jumped in much to Curly’s annoyance. He received a winding blow from the gang’s leader for his mistake.

  “Sorry!” he whimpered. Bingo was doubled over trying to catch his breath as the rest of the gang and the Barbies pointed and laughed. Tom was bristling with anger at Curly trying to get the girl he had always fancied. Felix once again gave him the ‘Don’t’ look.

  “What you staring at you big fairy?” Tom reached for the zip on his guitar case. Felix knew he had to do something before Tom turned the chip shop into a wrestling ring.

  “Stop it Curly!” pleaded Felix. “We only came in for some lunch.”

  “That floppy haired freak is asking for it,” came the stern reply.

  Felix heard the zip undo a little further. “You’re a first class muppet,” suddenly came flying out of his mouth. The girls screamed as Curly punched Felix square on the chin. Felix didn’t flinch, much to everyone’s surprise. Curly tried not to show that he was embarrassed, his victims usually ended up on their backsides. In a flash he had put Felix in a head lock and dragged him out onto the pavement. Poppy grabbed Tom’s hand as he was about to draw his sabre.

  “Not here! He’s in no real danger.” She ran through the door and charged Curly away from Felix. Curly was bright red with anger at being moved by a girl. He swung a punch at Poppy but Felix, returning her favour, blocked the punch and tripped Curly to the floor. The rest of Curly’s gang, fearing that they would be in the firing line if they did nothing, joined in. Bingo threw Poppy to one side, even he knew fighting girls just wasn’t on. Lofty jumped on Tom and Felix found himself under a pile of four bodies all scratching and pulling at him.

  The unexpected “Wooooooooo” of the police car siren brought the melee to a halt. They looked up to see two stern looking constables waving at them to clear off. In the back sat a bald man with a scar down his right cheek. He smiled proudly at Curly and gave him a thumbs up as the car crept slowly past the chip shop.

  “Dad’s being taken in again!” Curly laughed mockingly at the policemen. “They can never find anything to send him down. The new gang he’s in sorts that.”

  Curly’s father was one of the area’s renowned criminals. You name it he’d done it. It was rumoured that he, along with his cronies, had been involved in several mysterious disappearances. His son was trying to live up to the family name with his gang of layabouts. Curly clicked his fingers and his followers fell in to line behind him.

  “You’ll get yours, and soon, Jones!” Curly looked menacing as he led his troops off towards the common. Emma pulled the Barbies into line and they followed like ducklings.

  That w
as all Felix wanted - another enemy. He already had enough trouble with the Brethren.

  “My Dad and his mates were talking about you lot last night!” Curly shouted as they disappeared into the woods.

  “Idiots!” shouted Poppy.

  “He’ll have you like the rest!” Curly gloated.

  “Why were his dad’s gang talking about us?” asked Tom.

  “Maybe they’re after the money we got from the King Arthur coins,” replied Felix. “We’d better watch our backs, fronts, sides, ups and downs!” He chortled nervously knowing that this could mean even more danger would come their way.

  Their mood was lightened when Tubs, the fattest member of Curly’s gang, bumbled out of the chip shop with two carrier bags full of food. “I’ve missed the ruck again!” he sighed. “Where have they gone?” Felix pointed up the High Street away from the common. Being none too clever Tubs thanked them and waddled off munching on a battered sausage.

  Poppy, nursing another black eye, went back in to get them some lunch. They made their way to the children’s playground and sat on the swings quietly reflecting on what had just happened.

  “He’s just a big fat bully!” Poppy blurted out.

  “Yep, with a weak punch and a nutter of a dad,” said Tom.

  The playground at the end of the common nearest the shops was full of mothers with small children. One person stood out, a small skinny man in a suit. He was sitting on one of the wooden benches quietly smoking a cigarette and reading a newspaper. “He was over the road from the chip shop,” cried Felix. “I’m sure he walked past when we were in the queue!”

  “What’s he doing here? He’s got no kids with him!” Poppy asked.

  The man began fidgeting when he realised the three older children on the swings were staring at him. He rolled his newspaper, tucked it under his arm and left.