The Master nods. ‘Indeed. He bathed you in waters from the Sacreds and asked them to protect you from the disease that had killed your mother. He promised them his own life if they afforded you a long and healthy one.’
Gideon’s eyes well up. Once more Nathaniel’s words come back to him: ‘I will willingly give my own blood, my own life. I only hope it is worthy. Worthy enough to change things. To alter the fate that I know awaits my poor, motherless son.
The Master rises from behind the table and walks the chamber. ‘The Sacreds are not monsters. They do not demand arbitrary human sacrifice. It is a fundamental matter of give and take, part of the cycle of life and death. In return for protecting your life, Nathaniel promised them his own. He undertook to become a sacrifice.’
Gideon’s mind goes blank. ‘The suicide?’
‘No. That wasn’t an offering. That was a selfish act of desperation. He wanted to stop the Inner Circle following a course that he didn’t agree with.’
‘What course?’
The Master exhales wearily. ‘Your father made great studies and believed that the unalterable doctrine of the Craft was that those who received the gifts of the Sacreds were the chosen ones, the ones who should be sacrificed. He contested that anyone who had drawn from the divine well and prospered should in their later years pay the divine price. The Inner Circle disagreed. They believed that this ancient practice needed to evolve. That the Sacreds should pick their own sacrifices.’
‘How so?’
‘Easily.’ The Master opens his arms in a relaxed gesture. ‘People are drawn to them. The Lookers — the men who took you from the henge — they wait and watch. When someone is compelled to touch a specific Sacred, one that is in ascendancy in the sidereal zodiac, then they identify themselves as the correct human sacrifice.’
The Master sits on the stone bench next to Gideon. What he wants to say next will unnerve the boy, possibly shake him to his core. ‘The Craft is a democratic body. We follow rules laid down centuries ago. However, the interpretation of those rules is the right and duty of each successive Master and his Inner Circle. When your father took his decision to oppose the Circle’s views on sacrifices, he as good as sealed his own fate.’
Gideon looks lost. ‘I don’t understand. Why was my father’s opinion so important compared with everyone else’s?’
The Master sees that Nathaniel hadn’t told the boy everything. ‘Because, Gideon, when the matter was put to the vote, I wasn’t the Henge Master. He was.’
102
Caitlyn’s screams pierce the foot-thick stone like a high-speed drill. She can’t take any more. The blackness, the stillness, it’s driving her insane. She hammers her fists, knees and head against the rough walls of the vertical tomb.
The two Lookers guarding her rush to the detention crevice. They can’t let her harm herself. She mustn’t die before the chosen time. They trigger the release locks and Caitlyn tumbles out and crashes painfully on to her knees. Her body is a patchwork of cuts and her long black hair is matted with sweat and blood. She snarls and kicks out at them. ‘Get off me. You fucking bastards, let me go.’
The Lookers pin her down on her back. Her face is covered in blood and her manicured hands are cut to ribbons. Her forehead shows several deep gashes where she has crashed her skull against the stones. The men exchange glances. She has gone berserk in there. Thrashed around in some kind of deranged fit and tried to kill herself.
Caitlyn wants to end this nightmare now. Even if it means dying, she wants it to stop. But gradually she calms down. Her mind takes control again and the wild animal inside her is quieted. The men keep pressing her down on the cold stone floor. One is astride her, kneeling on her arms, pinning her wrists. The other is knelt across her ankles. Only now as the bloodrush subsides does it hit her.
They are amateurs.
She has seen Eric and his team carry out restraint techniques. They never do it like this. A twist of a wrist is enough to incapacitate anyone, if you know how. A finger dug into a nerve point can stop a heavyweight boxer, if you know how. These guys don’t. They are completely without ‘know how’. They’re making it up as they go along.
Caitlyn stares into the eyes of the hooded man pressing down on her. ‘Okay. I’m okay now.’
He eases himself off her arms. Stands over her. Wary and ready to pin her down again. ‘We need to take a look at her head wound,’ he says to the younger man.
They help her to her feet and are about to cuff her wrists when Caitlyn pulls her hands away. She drives a knee hard into the groin of the man in front of her. The second Looker grabs her from behind. She leans into him. Uses her body weight to knock him off balance then runs him into the wall behind them. As he hits the stone, she crashes her head up, making sure the back of her skull does maximum damage to his face. It’s a sickening blow. He loses hold and slumps down behind her. His nose is broken.
Caitlyn stands unrestrained in the torch-lit corridor of the Sanctuary.
103
Gideon is filled with a dizzying emptiness. The revelation that his father was once the Henge Master leaves him drained. This is not what he expected to discover. He’d sought the truth. Needed a reason for his father’s suicide. Someone to blame. He hadn’t been prepared for this.
The Henge Master is not concerned with Gideon’s feelings. He merely wants to learn how much Gideon knows, how dangerous a threat he represents. ‘Do you have any idea what this place is? Where we are?’
‘The Sanctuary.’ His voice is flat. His thoughts elsewhere.
‘And do you know its location?’
It’s a tougher question. One that drags Gideon out of his state of shock. ‘My father wrote only about the nature of the Sanctuary, not its location. That said, I haven’t decoded all of his journals. I am sure there will be passages where he gets more specific.’
The Master tries to read the boy’s eyes. It is possible that Nathaniel kept the location secret. It is also believable that his son knows it and understands that to reveal it would be dangerous. ‘You are well informed for an outsider. For a non-initiate.’ He clasps his hands. ‘And that presents us with a problem. What are we to do with you?’
Gideon moves closer to him. ‘Let me be part of things. Let me join you. I don’t know what else I am to do. Given the loss of my father. His vow. I am to be irrevocably linked with the Sacreds whatever happens.’
‘Should we even want to admit you to the Craft, I’m not sure you are ready. Initiation is a searching ceremony. It involves total trust between the Henge Master and the initiate. Trust is all the supplicant has to hold on to as his blood is shed. The pain is excruciating, unimaginable.’
Gideon hangs his head. ‘It is what I want.’
The Master puts a hand beneath Gideon’s chin, raises his face and looks into his eyes. ‘Who is to say you wouldn’t continue your father’s opposition from within our ranks?’
Gideon becomes animated. ‘I don’t wish you or the Followers harm. I want to be welcomed into the fold. Just as my father once was. I want my life to be lived to the full, under the blessing of the Sacreds. I don’t want it to be cursed with sickness. And I certainly don’t want to spend the rest of my years fearful that I may be attacked or have my home set ablaze.’
The Master can see there is good reason why Gideon should be motivated to embrace the Craft. And killing him poses the risk of their existence being made public. The Craft would be exposed and the ritual of renewal interrupted. He paces. ‘There is a way for you to demonstrate your loyalty, your commitment. If you were to fulfil it, I would personally vouch for your trustworthiness And the initiation would begin tonight.’