Chapter Eleven

All Saints Day

James woke up to a sombre scene. Rain pounded down on the Orphanage as if the heavens were crying out in protest for the tragedy the night before. James forced himself not to join in. The dark clouds overhead blocked most of the daylight, making it even more dismal. After a few moments of laying in silence, he heard a noise from the side of his bed.

‘Psst!’ 

James looked over, but in the low light of the room he couldn’t make out who was standing there.

‘James?’ came the voice again, and he knew instantly that it was Eligh. ‘James? You awake?’ the boy asked again.

James nodded in the dark; then, realizing that Eligh most likely couldn’t see much either, he replied. ‘Yeah, I’m up,’ he said, sitting up against the back of his bed. He felt Eligh sit down on the foot. 

‘Really bad stuff, eh mate?’ came Eligh’s voice from the darkness.

‘Yeah, terrible,’ James agreed, now able to make Eligh out, as his eyes were adjusting to the gloom. James bit back the question that was on his lips, not wanting to ask. 

‘It was Sam Bartworth; did you hear?’ he said solemnly.

James’ stomach lurched, he recognised that name. ‘S-Sam Bartworth?’ he stammered. 

Eligh nodded. ‘He’s that bloke who let out a giant rat, remember?’ 

James gave a nod, an odd tightness in his chest. He didn’t think he’d ever met Sam; just heard the story about him and the rat.

‘But Preacher says we shouldn’t dwell on it,’ Eligh continued, ‘supposed to celebrate life and try and be happy.’ 

James gave a weak smile. ‘I suppose he’s right then isn’t he?’

James thought he knew what empty words were now.

‘Yup,’ Eligh said standing, ‘and the first step to a happy life is a good breakfast, come on!’

The Main Hall was just as gloomy as it had been in the dormitories; save being brighter. There were quite a few people in the enormous hall when James and Eligh found a table to sit down at.

‘So, what happened to you last night?’ Eligh asked as a large plate of buttered biscuits and jam slathered pancakes floated to rest before him. Another plate of breakfast landed in front of James as he recounted the events of the previous night. Eligh shuddered as James told him, in an afterthought, about seeing the Three Witches walking through the forest.

‘I figure that it was because it was Hallowe’en,’ Eligh professed. ‘It’s the day when the most black magic is performed,’ he added taking a large bite of pancakes. 

Just then Elizabeth flopped down in a chair between the two. She looked tired, as evidenced by the bags under her eyes and her messy hair.

‘Are you alright?’ James asked, catching the plate of food that was destined for Elizabeth and setting it in front of her. 

‘Tyre kept me up for hours last night,’ she said rubbing her eyes.

‘I suppose he’s got a lot to get off his chest,’ Eligh admitted, wiping his face with a napkin.

‘How do you mean?’ James asked, confused.

‘Well, he saw it, didn’t he?’ Eligh explained, looking at Elizabeth who nodded.

‘He saw the-’

‘Murder, yeah,’ Elizabeth said. She sighed, as if physically pained by something, and rubbed her face. ‘Anyways,’ she started, looking at James, ‘there’s going to be a service. I think we should all go.’ She sounded absolutely determined.

‘Yeah,’ James agreed.

‘Of course,’ Eligh added.

By noon, the sky had broken and light slipped through the clouds. The rain had lessened to a light shower and through this the staff and student body made their way across the grounds and along the tree line, past the place where James had saved Tyre. A ways along the tree line the precession started down a path that wound through the woods, finally ending in a small clearing with an old church in the centre. James was sure that the church wouldn’t fit all of the students, but somehow, there always seemed to be an empty pew or two. The work of magic, James assumed. As with the few other funerals James had been to in his short life, an organ played a sombre tune – this organ, however, did not have an organist.

Headmaster Fletcher and the Halig Beorn, Domogart Augustus, were last into the small chapel; which seemed much larger now, due to the fact that there were far too many pews to naturally fit in it. Fletcher walked to the front of the chapel with Augustus, and sat down on a chair facing the rest of the students. Augustus stepped up to a pulpit and spoke.

‘Thank you all for being here,’ he said sombrely; then took a quick glance back at Fletcher, who sat in his chair, removed from the rest of the staff, who were seated on a raised platform facing the congregation. ‘You have all suffered a terrible loss,’ he said looking back across the sea of people. ‘Someone you knew, someone you cared about was taken away from you. It is… unfair.’ 

James looked around; many people were crying, others looking down at the floor.

‘And we find our hearts full of sorrow at the loss; and anger at those who took our loved one from us,’ Augustus went on. ‘The Lord said that we should suffer our enemies, and if we be struck on the right cheek, we should turn also the left.’ 

James felt anger building up inside. The Three Witches had taken something that could never be replaced, never be mended. Now, the words of comfort he was receiving were telling him to suffer it?

‘Not one of us here can go on in the same way now. Though we must march forward, we can never let ourselves forget,’ Augustus’s words continued to ring. 

James noticed the coffin that sat near the far right wall of the church – white, clean, and spotless. He felt the tightness in his chest return as he tried hard to maintain his composure. He didn’t know why this was affecting him so… he’d not even known Sam. He wondered how he’d react if it had been Eligh, or Tyre, or even Elizabeth!

The thought made him sick.

‘Our hearts extend to those of us who were close to Sam. We pray that comfort will find them; and all of us in this time of mourning,’ Preacher continued. 

James could hear soft sobbing from many people around him; he looked to Elizabeth who quietly wiped the tears from her eyes.

Yes, she probably knew him… I’ve been out of it for so long. Were they friends?

‘Headmaster Fletcher has asked me to recite a psalm,’ Augustus said, his voice uneven. ‘I’m not sure I should, Tobias,’ he said, his voice cracking as he turned to look at Fletcher. The Headmaster half stood up and whispered something into Augustus’s ear; then sat back down. Fletcher nodded to Augustus and wiped his eyes. 

Augustus slowly turned back to face the crowded church, ‘The Lord is my Shepherd, I shall not want,’ Augustus started, his voice shaking. James had never heard the words before; they seemed strange, he tried to focus on the meaning as Augustus continued, ‘He maketh me to lie down in green pastures. He leadeth me beside the still waters. He restoreth my soul.’ 

The white coffin rose up off of its stand and began to float. It continued until it slowly started to make its way down the aisle. 

Augustus continued, ‘He leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for His Name’s sake. Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil. For thou art with me, thy rod and thy staff, they comfort me.’ 

The coffin passed a young girl, and as it did, she placed a small wild rose on it. 

‘Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies. Thou anointest my head with oil, my cup runneth over.’ 

By the time the coffin passed James, it had several roses on it. James pointed his wand at the coffin and muttered something under his breath. Suddenly, a small, red, flower sprung up from the wood, curled heavenward and bloomed. 

Augustus’s voice was extremely shaky as he finished, ‘Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever, Amen.’ 

The coffin floated out of the church and out of sight. James assumed it was destined for the small graveyard just removed from the building. 

Augustus stepped back from the podium and sat down on the right of Fletcher, who, in turn, stood and approached the small dais.

‘I am sure we all appreciate Domogart’s short epitaph. Now, before we return to our day, I hope that you can all join me in a moment of silent remembrance of Sam Bartworth.’ 

The remaining noise in the church was quelled as Fletcher bowed his head. Many people did the same. 

After a few moments, Fletcher spoke up. 

‘Thank you,’ he said tearfully. ‘Now, our schedule for the day has been wiped clean of all classes,’ he offered, chancing a smile. ‘And tonight we shall have our yearly All Saints Day celebration, in honour of Sam.’

There was applause at this, sporadic and subdued as it was.

As they exited the small church, the sun broke through the clouds, shining down on the wet world below. The muddy trail mushed under James’ feet as they made their way back to the Mansion. The sun felt warm and somehow seemed to raise James’ spirits. Elizabeth and Eligh seemed much happier too as they finally walked up the steps and into the Orphanage and started off towards the portrait of the portly knight. They had reached a curving hallway on the second floor when they met up with Xavier, patrolling in long blue robes.

‘Oh, hello,’ he greeted in his musical voice.

‘Hello Xavier,’ Elizabeth smiled. 

Xavier smiled back, then brought a finger up and taped his temple, saying, ‘I almost forgot, I’ve received a message from Horace for you.’ He reached a hand into a long, seemingly endless, pocket and retrieved a small folded piece of paper. The Centaur handed the scrap to Elizabeth and smiled again. ‘I hope you will join us all at the celebration tonight?’ he inquired of the three. Nods and assurances passed from them. Xavier, smiling once more before he turned, and walked off.

‘What is it?’ Eligh asked at once, referring to the paper that Elizabeth still had clutched in her hand. She unfolded it, her eyes scanning the lettering.

‘Horace wants to have our next lesson,’ she told the two, looking up at them, ‘two weeks from today.’

The rest of the day passed without incident. The celebration in the evening was more than a little fantastic; platters of food floated to tables instead of plates, puddings and cakes of all sorts were saved for after dinner, with a large variety of Never-Melt ice-cream! After the banquet had finished, everyone was let outside to watch a spectacular fireworks display. 

Some fireworks would light up the night sky as if it were daytime – if only for a few fleeting seconds. It was only then, in the midst of a pyrotechnic display of dancing fire that James noticed Tyre was nowhere to be seen. In fact, thinking about it, James realized that he had not seen Tyre since before their lesson with Horace, and suddenly felt terribly guilty. He looked around feebly, but there was no sign of the little creature.

‘James!’ a voice echoed in his head, breaking the silence. He stood there, gazing around, trying to see who had called his name. Everyone’s attention was skyward; no one was even looking at him. Nevertheless, he had the undisputable feeling that someone was standing right beside him, watching him!

‘James, they’re coming. They’re coming to kill you all! The river! At the river!’ the voice sounded again. 

He recognised the voice now; although it couldn’t be possible…

No, not possible!

James felt oddly light-headed as the world around him spun. He stumbled forward and fell to the ground.

‘James?’ Elizabeth called from a distance. He saw her rush up to him and kneel down. ‘James, are you alright?’ she asked as he struggled to his feet, as Eligh rushed over, followed by the small Stone-Hound, Tyre.

‘Whut hapuned?’ Tyre asked, looking gravely at James, for the first time in more than a day.

‘They’re coming!’ James gasped, not knowing a way to explain himself. ‘The Knights! Dad says they’re coming to kill us all!’