History Keepers 1: The Storm Begins (7 page)

With this, he delivered the decisive blow. Boucicault reeled, and there was an almighty clunk as his head collided with a thick branch. He flew through the air and landed with a thump on his derrière.

‘
Adieu, mon ami
,’ Nathan shouted, sheathing his sword. ‘And once more – it’s 1820, my friend: sleek is no longer a preference; it’s a requirement.’

Half an hour later they stopped on a rocky outcrop suspended above the sea, where a local man was waiting with a carriage. Nathan dismounted, helped Isabella down and went to speak to him. For a moment he chatted jovially in broken French, then handed over his horse and a number of gold coins and returned to Isabella.

‘Jacques here will take you back to your family in Milan. So this, as they say, is farewell.’

‘But, Nathan,’ Isabella pleaded, tears welling up in her eyes, ‘I don’t understand! Can’t I come with you?’

‘No can do, I’m afraid.’ The soft Charleston twang in Nathan’s voice was clearer now. ‘I start work in an hour.’

‘What is this silly job you do, anyway?’ Isabella pouted. ‘This big secret of yours …?’

Nathan took a deep breath, but chose not to reply. He kissed her on the forehead. ‘You’ll get over me sooner than you think,’ he said – and there was a hint of sadness in his eyes.

‘Nathan, I love you,’ Isabella told him.

‘And I love an adventure!’ he replied – then charged towards the cliff edge and dived, arms outstretched on either side, into the ocean.

Isabella watched in amazement, tears glistening on her cheeks, as he swam out into the mist.

The horizon was beginning to blush with dawn indigos and pinks when Jake awoke to the smell of freshly baked bread. A plate of croissants, still steaming, lay on the deck next to him.

‘No doubt you feel like death …?’ a voice commented.

It was Charlie. He was looking out to sea with a telescope. ‘Atomium leaves you groggy at the best of times, but the first experience is the worst. There’s orange juice,’ he said, indicating a china mug beside the croissants, ‘and please help yourself to a pastry. They’re almond and chocolate.’

Jake did indeed feel terrible: his throat was like sandpaper, his muscles ached and his head thumped. He reached for the cup and drank down the juice. It revived him enough to sit up.

‘An East Indiaman, if I’m not mistaken,’ Charlie muttered. ‘Dutch, I suppose. Probably on its way to Ceylon or Bombay.’

At first Jake failed to register what Charlie was saying. Then, through the ship’s rail, he saw a dim shape on the horizon. He leaped to his feet. ‘Is that what I think it is?’

Gliding majestically across the crimson horizon was a ship. Its long sturdy hull was punctuated by a succession of portholes; three enormous masts supported steeply raked sails, each one billowing in the strong wind. Although it was some distance away, Jake could see activity on the deck.

‘Could I please borrow your telescope for one second?’ he asked his companion.

Charlie passed the eyepiece over. Jake took it excitedly and pointed it towards the ship. He gasped in astonishment at what he saw: a group of sailors were standing in the stern, hauling up the last of the sails. All wore the same uniform of flowing white shirts, narrow trousers and boots up to their knees. Overseeing the operation was a distinguished-looking man in a blue tunic and a triangular hat that made him look like Lord Nelson.

This was the proof that Jake had sought, and it left him spellbound. He eagerly examined other parts of the ship. Framed in a porthole was a cabin boy throwing out a bowl of slops; on a raised deck at the bow stood three gentlemen in long coats, holding canes; next to them, a lookout leaned over the side, scanning the horizon with his own telescope. Jake instinctively edged back into the shadow, aware that he might be discovered in his school uniform.

‘You’re treading on my croissants,’ Charlie pointed out. Jake looked down to discover one of the pastries flattened under his heel.

‘Sorry,’ he said absent-mindedly, then immediately returned his attention to the East Indiaman, ‘but this is amazing!’

‘If you look in
that
direction,’ Charlie said, indicating the bows, ‘you’ll get another surprise …’

‘What surprise?’

‘You’ll see,’ Charlie replied with a mischievous wink, and disappeared below.

7 T
HE
C
ASTLE IN THE
S
EA

AT THE PROW
of the
Escape
, Jake waited patiently. Gradually he started to discern the faint outline of land, shrouded in early morning mist. Then, directly ahead, he spotted a faint triangular shape outlined against the rocky coast. At first it looked menacing, like a vast cloaked giant striding out from the shore. But as he looked more carefully, he realized that it was an island, cone-shaped, compact and granite-grey.

Jake remembered that he still had Charlie’s telescope. He held it up and examined the curious triangle in more detail. Its wide, solid base was of natural rock, but on top of it stood what seemed to be a series of ancient
man-made
edifices – buildings erected upon buildings like toy bricks, rising up to a single tower and a sharp, pointed steeple.

‘That’s her,’ said a soft voice behind him. ‘Mont St Michel.’ Topaz came to join Jake in the bows. ‘Point Zero, the headquarters of the History Keepers’ Secret Service.’ She was eating one of Charlie’s almond and chocolate croissants. French people always ate their pastries with such panache, Jake reflected, and Topaz was no exception. Even the simple action of catching crumbs and tipping them into her mouth he found inexplicably dazzling.

As the island continued to materialize out of the mist, Topaz told Jake all about it. ‘Its history as a fortress dates back to the year 808; that’s why the Secret Service chose it as their base. In over a thousand years its walls have never once been breached.’

She explained that the commanders of the History Keepers had not only chosen the safest
geographical
location for their headquarters; they also chose the safest
historical
location.

‘The 1820s is a time of peace,’ she told him. ‘The bloody turmoil of the last two hundred years has passed its worst. The English civil war, the war of the Austrian Succession and the unforgettable French Revolution have all been resolved. The
legacy
of Napoleon Bonaparte, whether he wanted it or not, has brought a spell of harmony to this region of Europe.’

The decade was also free of the perils of the
modern
world, she went on: the coming Industrial Revolution would give birth to many necessary evils, and the development of the steam engine would lead eventually to the ‘diabolical atomic bomb’.

‘The modern times are
merveilleux
, full of magic, but they are also full of danger. The 1820s are safe from all that.’

Once Topaz had completed her whirlwind tour of history, she gave a quick smile. ‘So now you understand the location of Point Zero.’ And she popped the last piece of croissant into her mouth.

Jake didn’t fully grasp it. ‘So the headquarters remains in 1820 –
permanently
?’

‘It stays for the decade – then, on New Year’s Eve 1829, everyone gets on a ship, takes a horizon point back to the first of January 1820, and returns to the island, and so on for another ten years. I know it all sounds mad, but somehow it works.’

Jake decided he would wait and see if everything became clearer in time.

The island had now come into focus. He craned his neck to examine its impressive array of towers and peaks; of flying buttresses, colonnades and giant arched windows. From everywhere came the squawking of seabirds as they flew in and out of the shadows of the citadel. Mr Drake didn’t care for them and kept a beady eye on them at all times.

On a promontory ahead of them stood a group of figures – a welcoming party. If the sailors of the East Indiaman had shown Jake that he was indeed in a different time, this collection of extraordinary-looking figures confirmed it. He had seen people dressed in old-fashioned clothes on television programmes or at fancy-dress parties, but somehow he had never felt convinced that they really belonged to a past era – they were always too neat and artificial. These were different; they looked right.

There were people dressed from every period in history, from the Victorian era back to the age of Elizabeth I and beyond. Amongst them was a middle-aged man in a flamboyant red velvet tailcoat with matching top hat. Clutching his arm was an elegant-looking lady, her skirts ballooning out with crinoline and ruffles. Another gentleman wore a black doublet, a white ruff framing his
stern
-looking face. However, for Jake the most eye-catching figure of all was a tall lady who stood at the front of the group.

She had large silver-blue eyes and long steely grey hair swept back from her proud face. Jake guessed that she must be at least fifty, but she still retained the fine features of her youth. A dark navy cloak hung from her proud shoulders. Standing perfectly still next to her was a greyhound with sleek grey fur and bright eyes.

A soft smile played across the lady’s thoughtful face as, one by one, she took in the occupants of the ship. When those eyes rested briefly on Jake, he felt an uncertain thrill.

‘That’s a very old friend of mine,’ said Rose, joining Jake and Topaz on deck. ‘Galliana Goethe. She’s in charge here, the commander of the History Keepers.’

The ship was moored at the pier, a gangplank was lowered and the passengers began to disembark.

‘Would you mind?’ asked Oceane, pushing through to the front. ‘I have a fitting in the costumiery. I need to get out of these dreadful modern clothes.’ She tossed her fox fur over her shoulder as she swept down the gangplank.

As Topaz followed her, the man in the red velvet coat boomed, ‘There she is! There’s our girl!’ immediately jangling his wife’s nerves.

‘Truman, please don’t shout!’ she admonished him.

Topaz approached them, smiling warmly.

‘They’re the Wylders: Truman and Betty,’ Rose informed Jake. ‘Nathan’s parents, and Topaz’s guardians. Truman is just as much a vain peacock as his son, but
she’s
charming. Of course, they’re both from completely different centuries.’

Jake watched Topaz greet them with a hug.

‘How are you, darling?’ Betty gasped fondly as she clasped her arms around her. ‘Good journey?’

Topaz nodded.

‘Let’s have a look at her,’ Truman bellowed as he held her by the shoulders. ‘You’ve grown. Hasn’t she grown, Betty? So tall for fourteen.’

‘Fifteen.’

‘Fifteen? You’re
not
!’

‘I am.’

‘How did that happen? You were just six a few years ago.’

Topaz and Betty shared a fond look.

‘It’s just occurred to me how quiet it is here,’
Topaz
said, looking around at the rest of the welcoming party. ‘Is His Loudmouth indisposed?’

‘Nathan has disappeared on some mission to rescue his latest
amour fou
,’ sighed Betty, with a shake of the head. ‘No doubt she’s fallen head over heels, blissfully unaware that she will be tossed aside like all the others.’

Jake followed his aunt down the gangplank. Galliana’s face lit up as they approached. ‘It has been an age,’ she said, embracing Rose.

Jake could now see that Galliana’s cloak was embroidered with an array of motifs: suns, moons, clocks and phoenixes.

‘It might have been an age,’ Rose replied, ‘but you look as ravishing as always.’

‘Are you sure you don’t mean
ravaged
?’ Galliana replied. ‘I’ve hardly slept in three days. There are bags under my eyes.’

‘But those cheekbones will never let you down.’

Galliana laughed, her face creasing around her twinkling blue eyes.

‘Don’t tell me that’s still Juno …’ Rose looked down at the bright-eyed greyhound.

‘This is Juno’s granddaughter, Olive,’ Galliana replied, running her hand over the hound’s silken
coat
. ‘Every generation they get a little cleverer.’ She turned to Rose’s companion. ‘And this, of course, is Jake.’

Although Jake felt unaccountably shy of this tall, stately woman, he smiled bravely, held out his hand and spoke in the most manly tones he could muster. ‘Pleased to meet you.’

‘
So
well-mannered.’ Galliana enclosed Jake’s hand in her own. ‘I expect there has been an awful lot to take in. But don’t worry – we are going to find your parents.’ Suddenly her expression changed as she spied something approaching across the water. ‘What on earth …?’

There was a murmur of consternation as everyone caught sight of the swimmer churning his way towards the quay. Topaz knew who it was immediately; she shook her head and rolled her eyes.

‘Ahoy there!’ Nathan announced as he pulled himself out of the water with a beaming smile. He had swum fully clothed along the coast for over an hour, but looked as if it were the easiest and most natural thing in the world. He shook out his long hair and briefly checked his appearance in a vanity mirror produced from his back pocket.

Jake’s eyes widened as Nathan swaggered along
the
pier. He was intrigued. The boy could be no more than a year older than him, but he oozed confidence. Certainly there was an arrogance about him, but somehow he made the day seem brighter.

‘I’m sorry I missed the arrival,’ Nathan told them in a deep voice. ‘I simply
had
to save a young damsel from a fate worse than death.’

Galliana was as unimpressed as Topaz. ‘May I remind you, Agent Wylder, that this organization has no time for
personal
heroics. Risk is only acceptable in the line of duty, however glittering the prize may seem. Do you understand me?’

‘Clear as crystal,’ Nathan drawled, ‘but I can assure you, this was for no personal gain. The lady was somewhat … over-enthusiastic. Like so many,’ he added with a shrug.

‘
Mon Dieu
!’ Topaz winced. ‘My brother’s humility knows no bounds.’

Nathan’s gaze alighted on her. ‘Back in one piece then?’ he asked casually.

‘Looks like it,’ Topaz replied with similar nonchalance.