‘I’ll see you around, Mike.’
He just wanted more and more. Billi couldn’t get Mike’s words out of her head. She sat in the back of Berrant’s van, hunched over the small monitor, watching the corridor of the children’s ward in ghostly black and white.
Gareth was sitting in the driver’s seat under a blanket, eyes half closed. He’d stir every few minutes, take a sip of ebony-black coffee, then drift off again.
More and more. No matter how much time she dedicated to the Templars her dad always wanted more. Did he treat the other knights like that? She couldn’t even have a few hours to herself without the Order smashing it all up.
And Mike understood. The only thing good about being on watch was she could go over the date again and again. She really wanted to see him again. But how? Her dad would never let her be free. The harder she worked the more responsibilities he piled on to her. She was trapped.
So I left.
12
Billi got home after the watch and was asleep the moment her head hit the pillow. She made it through the next day only because it was Saturday. She thought about calling Mike, but seemed to have left her mobile in Berrant’s van. And, anyway, what use would it be? But the more she thought about how her dad dictated every minuscule aspect of her life, the more she thought about what Mike had said.
Evening came around too quickly. Billi crossed the dark, empty courtyard and made her way down into the catacombs.
The armoury was alive with the clatter of weapons and thumping of punches and kicks. Billi chucked her bag in a corner and found a spot to perform her warm-ups. Even Kay was here – that was a first. He was red faced and absolutely soaked in sweat, practising unarmed combat with the hulking Bors. There were no weight categories in real fights, so Arthur made everyone train against everyone. Billi winced as Bors slammed his shoulder into Kay’s chest, catapulting him across the practice mat.
‘He won’t be much good as an Oracle if you knock his brains out,’ said Billi. Bors just grunted; when it came to Oracles he felt the same way as Gwaine did. Kay lifted himself off the mat and waved at her. She ignored him.
She looked around the catacomb. Still no Arthur, and Percy was at work fighting Pelleas. Percy wielded a heavy axe as though it was made of balsa wood. Pelleas, bandages now gone, darted under and between blows, weaving a web of steel with his rapier and main gauche. Gareth sat on a stool, carefully wrapping fresh fletching to a quiver of arrows. An array of arrowheads lay on the table. Armour-piercing bodkins, barbed tips, even the forked rope cutters. All brightly polished and razor sharp.
Pelleas broke off and stepped away so Billi lifted up a quarterstaff. The straight two-metre pole was about as thick as her wrist and made of heavy oak. It was smooth and oiled from years of use. Billi raised it over her head and listened to her shoulder blades click.
‘Whenever you’re ready,’ said Billi. She slid the staff through her loose grip and waited. Percy dropped his axe and reached for one of the bokkens. It looked half-sized in his hand.
She went into guard, holding her weapon at waist height, an end pointed at the centre of Percy’s chest.
‘Where’s Dad?’
Percy circled her. He held the sword in a single grip, and tapped it against hers. ‘Out. Where else?’
‘Nice of him to mention it.’
Percy snorted. ‘Why would he do that? You know Art.’
Yes, why would he? She was made to miss out on her own life for these watches and training sessions, but her dad could do what he bloody liked.
‘Has he always been like this, Percy?’
Percy had known Dad since they’d served in the Royal Marines together. He’d been best man at her parents’ wedding and had been chosen to be her godfather. If her dad had a friend, it was this man in front of her. Percy slowly took the sword in a two-handed grip. Billi watched his fingers flex round the hilt.
‘Like what, honey?’
‘Selfish and heartless?’
Percy stopped dead. His grip tightened and Billi saw his jaw stiffen. Then he took a deep sigh, stepped back and focused his attention on his weapon.
‘We’ll start with light sparring. Upper-body cuts first,’ he said. He shifted his position to high guard.
‘Percy, didn’t you hear me?’
‘Left strike to head.’
His kiai shout shook the stones and Billi swept up her staff but even though she blocked the attack the impact knocked her to the ground. Her hands stung. Percy stood over her, sword tip directed at her throat.
‘More flexibility in the shoulders; absorbs the shock better,’ he said.
Billi didn’t get up.
Percy paused. He tucked the bokken under his armpit and lifted Billi up to her feet. He stood in front of her and his brown eyes softened.
‘Billi, I wish it could be different, but Arthur has no choice.’ He glanced up, checking no one was near, then leaned down so he could whisper. ‘Never doubt he loves you. You’re everything to him.’
Then he put away his wooden sword and left.
Two hours later Billi was in the kitchen clearing away dinner when Arthur returned home. He dropped his gym bag against the washing machine and went to the fridge.
‘You were late for watch,’ he said.
Oh, nice to see you too, Dad.
‘Yes. I’m sorry.’
‘I thought I’d made myself clear, right here -’ he pointed at the spot in front of him – ‘about you wasting time in cafes… socializing.’
So Kay had grassed her up. Some friend he’d turned out to be. ‘I wasn’t wasting my time.’
His eyes narrowed and his fingers tightened round the fridge handle. Arthur stood, eyes locked on hers, and Billi marked the paleness in his face.
‘What exactly do you think this is?’ he asked. ‘Some sort of game? That you can drop out of any time you like to go holding hands with a boy?’ He slammed the door shut and the table jumped. ‘Yes, the training’s hard but it’s for your own good.’
‘My own good? This is nothing to do with me! The Knights Templar – it’s all you care about. Everything’s about the Order. You don’t care about me.’
Arthur stared back at her stonily, but he didn’t deny it.
‘You are a Templar, Billi. Never forget that. We, you, have no choice. Deal with it.’
And he turned his back on her.
Percy had been so wrong. Billi slammed the front door and wiped her face. She just had to get out. She didn’t care where, just out.
‘Hey, SanGreal.’
Billi spun around. Mike stood in the shadowy doorway behind her. His eyes shone warmly in the street light.
‘For God’s sake, Mike, you almost gave me a cardiac.’ What was he doing here at this time of night?
He pulled out his mobile. ‘I’ve tried calling.’
‘Sorry, but I’ve lost mine.’
Mike came closer. ‘So it wasn’t because of our talk? I’m sorry if I got too personal. It’s none of my business.’
‘No, it’s nothing to do with you. It’s just… things aren’t that great with Dad.’ Gross understatement.
Mike saw her tear-stained face. He bit his lips and Billi could see he was struggling not to say something. He just nodded slowly. ‘You OK?’
Billi stared at her door. The paint was worn and flaking. She turned towards Mike. God, she so desperately wanted to run away from all this.
‘Let’s get out of here,’ he said, almost reading her thoughts. ‘I want to show you something amazing.’
13
They made their way along the dark streets into the City. It was dead this time of night. Though the oldest part of London, it was a maze of narrow alleys and glass towers, old bones with fresh new flesh. The unlit wine bars, dull pubs, the monolithic Victorian banks, the glass and steel skyscrapers, they all jostled and pushed at each other, vainly reaching for what little sky there was.