Arthur and the Fenris Wolf (15 page)

‘It wasn't quite the day I expected,' Cousin Maggie said as she pulled her brown Volvo into their estate. She looked around at Arthur, Ash and Max, studying their faces for any signs of stress. They all seemed, remarkably, to be taking it in their stride – much better than she was.

After Detective Morrissey discovered the black uniforms, half of the Gardaí started to go through the museum with a fine-tooth comb looking for evidence, while the rest interviewed the waiting hostages. Most of the witnesses said the same thing: the raiders burst in through the skylights, herded them together and took what they wanted. No one had much new to offer until they interviewed those who'd been stranded on the second floor. Detective Morrissey listened with rapt attention to the story of the two sentries and how Ex had used a folding chair to shield himself from the crossbow bolt. He was also pleased with Ellie's detailed descriptions of the raiders, their positions in the museum and their weapons. In fact, Morrissey was surprised by how detailed the descriptions had been. She made ‘guess-timations' (as she called them) about the raiders' heights and weights. She even made note of what hand they used for firing their weapons. She'd counted thirty-two raiders in total, not including the man in the Viking Room who had attacked Arthur. As he led them back towards Cousin Maggie, Morrissey complimented her amazing recollection of events. She blushed, murmuring something about being good at noticing things.

‘Hmm …' Morrissey mused to himself when Ex had left the Garda van after recounting his story in as few words as possible.

‘What is it?' asked the Garda working at the bank of computer monitors.

‘Either that boy is exceptionally fast,' he said, ‘or exceptionally lucky.'

‘How do you mean?'

‘I don't think I'd have the reflexes to deflect a crossbow bolt with a chair. Would you?'

The interviews continued for a couple more hours. No one was permitted to leave the enclosure around the museum until they were all done, in case any hostage needed to be questioned again. The Gardaí supplied tea, coffee and sandwiches while the statements were being recorded.

When they were allowed to leave, they all climbed into the Maggie-mobile and she drove them back to Ranelagh. Ellie and Ex made their own way home, hopping on the first bus that passed.

‘Would you like to come in for tea, Cousin Maggie?' Ash asked as her grandaunt idled the car next to the Barry house. ‘Or something to eat?'

‘No thanks, pet,' she said. ‘What I need now is my own bed.' Arthur, Ash and Max all climbed out of the car and gave her a wave as she drove off.

‘I know how she feels,' Ash said, watching her go. ‘I don't want to have to start telling the whole story again to Mom and Dad.'

‘Maybe we shouldn't tell them now?' Max suggested, somewhat hopefully. ‘Could we wait until the morning at least?'

‘Good idea. Cousin Maggie will probably call then to see how we're doing. What about you, Arthur? Are you going to tell Joe?'

There was no response. She turned to find him staring at the green.

‘What is it, Arthur?'

‘There's someone out there,' he said, ‘standing behind that tree.'

She squinted her eyes to get a better look. It was dusk and starting to get dark now. The street lamps blinked on as she looked, buzzing with electricity. Arthur was right. There was a figure there, half-hidden by the trunk of the tree and watching them. Without warning, Arthur strode across the road and onto the green.

Ash was about to call him back, but Max went after him, jogging to keep up, so she did likewise. As they got closer, the figure became clearer and sharper in the twilight gloom. From the build, it was clearly a man, wearing a few layers of bulky clothing by the looks of it. His hair was messy, yellow curls falling over his forehead and around the nape of his neck. His face was unnaturally sallow due to the thick make-up he was wearing.

‘Hi, Eirik,' Arthur said cheerfully to the Viking, breathing a sigh of relief.

Eirik stepped out from behind the tree and met them halfway. He had a longsword strapped to his back; the pommel peeped out above the collar of his coat. He wore a grim expression as he nodded and grunted back.

‘So I'm guessing you sensed we were in danger again,' Arthur proposed. ‘You couldn't get your costume ready in time to help us in the museum but you got there anyway and then followed the pull of the pendant here?' Eirik nodded, looking ashamed.

‘It's OK, Eirik,' Max said. ‘We're safe now.' He looked around him in the darkness. ‘I think.'

‘He's right,' Arthur said. ‘We're safe now. So you can go back to the others.'

The Viking shook his head furiously.

‘Eirik, go back to the others!' Arthur said again, with more force this time.

Once more, the soldier shook his head.

‘Why not?'

‘Because,' guessed Ash, ‘he wants to be close by the next time something happens, to protect us. To guard us.'

This time, Eirik nodded and smiled.

‘But where are you going to stay?' Arthur asked the Viking. Eirik indicated the small clump of trees behind him at the edge of the green. ‘You're sure?' The soldier nodded in response.

‘OK,' Arthur conceded. ‘You can guard us then. But just be sure that no one sees you. Especially–'

He was about to say Stace's name but, almost as if she'd sensed it, she stepped out onto the porch and called out. ‘Ash! Max! Come in – your dinner's rea–!' When she saw who was standing with them on the green, the words caught in her throat. She wasn't wearing a jacket, so as she jogged across the grass towards them, shivering, she wrapped her arms around her torso for extra insulation.

‘Hi!' she said when she reached them. ‘Hi, Eirik!'

‘Let's go inside, Stace,' Ash said, taking her sister's arm and trying to lead her back to the house. She wouldn't budge, however.

‘Ash, stop being so rude!' she said, then turned back to the Viking. ‘So, Eirik, are you staying with Arthur?'

Eirik nodded before he noticed Arthur shaking his head frantically behind Stace's back.

‘Oh, you are!' she said, as Max joined in with Ash's attempts to drag her away. ‘Maybe we'll bump into each other some time …'

‘I'm sure you will, Stace!' Arthur said, taking Eirik's arm and leading him away. ‘But Eirik was just leaving now. He has friends to meet in town.'

‘Friends?' she said. ‘Maybe I can be a friend?'

‘Of course you can,' said Ash. ‘But not tonight. Dinner's ready, remember?'

‘Oh, yeah. Dinner.'

Arthur led Eirik around a corner onto the main road and out of sight of Stace, while Ash dragged her sister towards their house. Arthur waited till he heard them go into the house and close the door. Then he gestured to Eirik to stay and walked back around to the green.

‘All safe now,' he called to Eirik. ‘But keep out of sight, just in case. Stay in the shadows.'

As Arthur turned to go he noticed a gemstone in the pommel of the hilt of Eirik's sword glinting in the amber streetlight. He paused for a moment, then said, ‘Eirik, I think we – Ash, Max and me – maybe we should learn to defend ourselves after all. What do you think?'

Eirik looked at Arthur for a beat, as if surprised by the question. Then he nodded enthusiastically. With that, Arthur turned and headed home, leaving the Viking standing in the shadows.

The following morning was bright and chilly as Arthur strolled across the estate to the Barry house. There was a crispness to the air that told him an early spring was on the way. When he reached the house, he realised that the family people-carrier wasn't in the drive. Hoping it didn't mean that Ash wasn't in, he rang the doorbell. Almost instantly, he saw a shadow pass over the eyepiece and then a moment later he heard several locks clicking open within.

‘Arthur, it's you,' Max said, peering through the crack between the door and the jamb. His eyes were bloodshot, with dark circles underneath them.

‘More nightmares, Max?'

The boy shook his head, stepping back to let Arthur in. ‘I didn't sleep at all in case Loki …' He trailed off. ‘You looking for Ash? She's in the living-room.'

Arthur stepped past him and Max shut the door urgently, once more fastening each lock. He sat down on the floor, clutching a hurl tightly to his chest. With one last look at the boy, Arthur went into the living-room. Ash was stretched on her belly across the sofa, twiddling a minute screwdriver at the inner circuit boards of what looked like her new mobile phone. Ice was sitting up on the rug, staring at the television – it was almost as if she was watching the cookery programme that was on. She looked at Arthur when he entered the room, then turned back to the television without greeting him, clearly remembering what had happened the last time he was in the house.

‘Something wrong with your phone?' Arthur asked, collapsing into the nearest armchair.

‘Nooo,' Ash replied, concentrating on the screw she was tightening. ‘Just adding a few extra features.'

‘Such as?'

Ash clamped the cover back on the phone. She threw something across the room to Arthur, which he just managed to catch. It was a plastic sphere about the size of a ping-pong ball and when he turned it in his hand he discovered a lens staring up at him in the front.

‘A webcam?' he asked, looking back at her with raised eyebrows.

She walked over and turned the phone towards him. A live video stream filled the three-inch screen – a close-up of his own chin! He looked down at the webcam in his hand and back at the phone. The stream was coming directly from the camera he was holding.

‘Wireless connectivity between that camera and my phone,' she explained. ‘A makeshift security camera!'

‘Great idea,' he said, admiring the camera once again, with one eye on the video of himself on the phone.

‘It was simple enough. I had the camera lying around, but I added a few extra features to it: GPS, a two-year battery and so on. I still have to get the recording function working but I'm sure I'll manage it.'

‘Cool.'

‘I figured it might come in handy. What with … well, you know.' She didn't feel like saying his name out loud. If she did, it made it real in her mind. Loki was back. She nodded to shut the living-room door. ‘Max has been guarding the front door for hours, ever since our parents and Stace left for the day. He won't move, no matter how much I ask. So what's up with you? Did you tell your dad about yesterday?'

‘Well, luckily he was out late last night so I didn't have to face the Inquisition. I told him this morning before I came over here.'

‘And?'

‘Same as always. He warned me not to get myself into dangerous situations any more.'

‘Our parents were the same when we told them at breakfast,' Ash said. ‘But it's not like it was our fault this time so they kept the nagging to a minimum. So what are the plans for today?'

Arthur was about to answer when he noticed that Ice's attention had strayed from the television and she was watching him with her big black eyes.

‘Um … Ash, can we …' He nodded at the staring pup. Ash instantly understood what he meant and rolled her eyes.

‘Really?' she said, mildly irritated.

‘Yes, really. Please, Ash.'

‘OK.' She sighed, then got to her feet, took Ice by the collar Stace had bought her and dragged her out of the room. She shut the door but Arthur just knew the pup was still waiting outside.

‘You still don't trust her?' Ash asked, exasperated, sitting back down.

‘No,' said Arthur in a hushed tone. ‘I don't.'

‘Why are you whispering?'

‘Because.'

‘OK.' Ash rolled her eyes again but fell into a whisper to appease him. This wasn't the time to be falling out. ‘What's your plan for today?'

‘We should go to the Vikings. And learn to defend ourselves.'

‘You mean with weapons?'

He considered for a beat before answering, ‘With whatever it takes.'

‘But didn't you say–'

‘I know,' he said, louder than he meant to. ‘Weapons are dangerous, blah, blah, blah. But not as dangerous as Loki. Not as dangerous as all those raiders shooting arrows at us. We need to be prepared in case they come back. You, me and,' he glanced at the door meaningfully, ‘Max.'

‘Actually, I agree with you.' She stood up determinedly. ‘My parents and Stace are bringing my granny back to her place so they'll be gone for the day and won't miss us. I'll try to convince Max to leave the door.'

Max didn't take much convincing. He would have happily gone anywhere with Ash and Arthur on that day, but the idea of learning to defend himself made him even more delighted to go. When the three of them were ready, they mounted their bicycles. It was still freezing, but not cold enough for them to choose the bus over the freedom of the bikes.

On the way out of the estate, they stopped by the clump of trees on the green. Eirik was sitting on the ground with his back against a tree trunk when they walked up. He leaped to his feet and stood to attention immediately. Arthur told him to relax and then explained where they were going. Eirik nodded sagely as he listened; he clearly thought it was a great idea. They hopped onto their bikes once more and the Viking waved them off.

Meanwhile, back in the Barry house, Ice was frantically scratching her paws at the front door and yelping to be let out. Her claws dug into the wood of the door, making deep indentations. A rage built inside her at being trapped indoors by herself.

Seconds later, Eirik was stretching his back with a loud creak. He rubbed his belly and looked at the sun through the trees. It was early in the day and his charges wouldn't be home for hours yet, so he could relax because he knew they'd be safe with the others. Back in Scandinavia, when he'd been alive, Eirik had loved to go hunting. He would happily chase down a boar for days through the wild forests of his homeland, never tiring. The hunt gave him strength, gave him an unrivalled energy, adrenaline coursing through his body. He was contemplating going hunting again – even just for a small bird or a rabbit maybe – simply to feel that thrill. As he was wondering if he could find a suitably barren piece of land to hunt in Dublin, something caught his eye on the green.

A little dog was racing across the grass. Only her front legs worked; a set of wheels acted in place of the crippled hindquarters. That was the girl Ash's pup, he knew. The one they had rescued from the frozen lake. He half-wondered if he should catch the dog and return it to the house, but then he remembered that Arthur had warned him not to be seen. So he remained in the shadows, watching it go.

Bjorn grunted happily when Arthur told him what they wanted. After the boy had rejected the suggestion previously, the Viking had been concerned that it was a mistake. He was pleased to hear that the boy had had second thoughts on the subject.

He clapped his leathery hands and snorted a loud command. Three soldiers emerged from the watching mob, each holding a weapon. The one on the left had long scraggly wisps of hair falling from a mostly bare head. He had no beard on his narrow jaw and no teeth left in his dry gums. In one hand, he held a shield: a perfect circle of hard wood with an iron ring around the edge and a matching bump in the centre. Rays of black and yellow were painted on the wood, spreading out from the middle. In his other hand, he held a wooden longsword. Arthur recognised it as one of the Viking Experience props. It was in pretty good nick and with a hilt shaped like a tree, the branches forming the cross guard. The Viking's name, Arthur remembered, was Gunnar.

Next to him was Knut. He also had uncut and greasy hair, as well as a bushy beard. He was shorter than Gunnar but with broader shoulders and muscled arms that hadn't withered much during death. He squinted his eyes continuously, which gave him a fierce appearance. Arthur knew, however, that he could be as gentle as a kitten and loved to play-fight with Max when they visited. Knut was carrying a bow and arrow.

Last in line was the Viking known as Magnus. He was the shortest of any of the surviving men, barely breaking the five-foot mark. But he was also stout, with great thick legs and arms and a barrel of a chest. He was totally bald with a thick handlebar moustache sitting on his upper lip and a unibrow over his eyes. As with the other two, he carried a shield. In his spare hand he held a war-hammer. It was smaller than Arthur's and the iron head had rusted brown over time.

Just then, Arthur's phone vibrated in his pocket. He looked at the screen: an unknown number. Feeling all the eyes around on him, he pressed the little red phone icon, cancelling the incoming call.

Gunnar pointed at Ash and stalked away. With a quick glance at Max and Arthur, she followed him. Knut led Max to the far side of the Viking Experience, while Magnus lumbered away with Arthur. Training had begun.

The day flew past and before they knew it, it was time to go home. The sun was low along the horizon, casting their shadows far inside the Viking Experience. No one else will ever do anything like we did today, Arthur thought as he met up with Ash and Max to leave, although he still hadn't decided whether that was actually a good thing or not.

The three Vikings had begun by instructing their wards about the correct use of their shields. The shields were made from thick timber and iron and felt like they weighed a tonne, so first they were taught how to carry them – the proper way to hold them to minimise the stress on their arms while maximising their effectiveness. The Vikings drilled into them time and time again the importance of protecting their faces, throats and chests. Lunchtime arrived and, before Max could moan that he was getting tired, the soldiers moved on to the second part of the training.

They'd covered the basics of defence, now it was time to start on offence.

Gunnar had taken one of the unused mannequins out of storage and set up a practice area for Ash. He demonstrated how to assault an enemy first. He ran at the mannequin, swinging and hacking his sword through the air and roaring a harsh battle cry. In one swift movement, he chopped the mannequin's plastic head off. It bounced onto the ground with a hollow thud. Gunnar looked down at it and chuckled a throaty laugh, then nodded to Ash, who was holding the wooden sword.

‘I don't want to chop off anyone's head,' she told him. ‘I just want to learn to defend myself if they have a sword.'