Cloak of Silence (Jake Harding Adventures Book 1)

Father Theo slowly climbed the stairs, feeling rather out of breath. He seldom ventured so far up this tower, the tallest in the monastery. The building had once accommodated over a hundred monks, but now with fewer than twenty, parts of it lay unused.

Taki, who was following reluctantly behind the abbot, wasn’t paying much attention to his surroundings except to realise that he’d not been to this wing of the building before. It made him feel even more disoriented. The abbot had given him almost a day to make up his mind, but when it came down to it, he didn’t really seem to have a choice. 

After climbing another flight of wooden stairs, they arrived at a landing with two doors leading off it. The stairs seemed to finish here, so this must be the top floor. The abbot hesitated for a moment before knocking on one of the doors. He caught Taki’s eye and smiled encouragingly at him while they waited.

Taki acknowledged the smile, but he felt tired on top of everything else. His mind had been in a whirl ever since Father Theo had first spoken to him about this. Only an hour after they had walked back together from the bay, he was summoned to the abbot’s apartment. He looked so unhappy that Taki felt an urge to ask what the matter was. But he held back; that didn’t seem appropriate behaviour from a novice. Father Theo was the abbot, after all.

What Father Theo had told him was brief and to the point. Father John had asked by name for him to join their most holy order. The abbot said that it was high praise to be invited into such an order of monks and an opportunity that only arose very infrequently.

Taki had stared at the abbot in bewilderment.

‘A very rare honour indeed,’ the abbot had said, but his eyes gave him away. Taki had got to know him well over the past nine months. They had long discussions, sometimes late into the evening, not only about holy matters but about life and what he wanted to achieve. The abbot accepted that he would leave Agios Petros after a year, because his dad insisted. He didn’t try to persuade him to stay and Taki appreciated that. They had grown close and he had come to regard the abbot as a wise and friendly uncle. But now he could tell from his eyes that he was unhappy. Very unhappy.

Half an hour ago, he had, as agreed, been back to the abbot’s apartment.

‘Have you slept on the decision, my son?’ Father Theo had asked kindly.

He didn’t feel he could tell him he had hardly slept at all, but he said dutifully, ‘I’ll do whatever you think is best, archimandrite.’

‘It is best,’ he had answered.

When the door eventually opened, Taki’s heart sank. The hulking figure of Father John filled the doorway.

‘Here is your new charge,’ the abbot told him formally. ‘Take the very greatest care of him.’

Father John bowed deeply before standing aside for Taki to enter.

The room was in darkness apart from a candle flickering on a small desk against one wall. The window was open but the daylight had almost gone, leaving only a faint gleam on the sea beyond. Taki looked back to the doorway, but the abbot had gone.

Father John closed the door and sat down heavily at the desk. He smiled at Taki, who was unsure whether he was trying to be pleasant or whether it was a smile of triumph. He told Taki in his deep voice that he was welcome, that they would look after him and they would induct him into the new order in due course but, in the meantime, he must speak to no one outside their circle.

Taki nodded silently while stealing a glance at Father John’s hands. But the sleeves of his robe were long with only his fingers visible; the scorpion was not in view.

When he looked up, another monk had materialised out of the shadows of the dimly lit chamber.

‘I think you know Brother Warren,’ Father John said. ‘You may speak to me and to him and to our two colleagues, Brother Xavier and Brother Ilir; that is our circle. Speak to no others. Is that clear?’

Taki nodded again. The situation couldn’t be clearer. He was relieved that he was at least allowed to talk to someone. When the abbot had told him the news it felt like a teacher telling him to be quiet, except this time permanently.

‘We do good works here,’ Father John said. ‘Brother Warren will tell you what you need to know.’

‘What is it you do?’ Taki asked.

‘I will show you,’ Warren said. ‘Come.’

Taki followed him down three flights of stairs to the ground floor. The visitors had left long ago and the building seemed deserted although the muted sound of prayers came from the chapel.

No prayers for the silent monks. Like me. 

It was a weird thought and he was glad when they eventually reached the monastery museum. Warren took a key from his pocket and unlocked the solid wooden door, which creaked open and closed with a thump behind them.

Warren flicked a light switch, before turning to Taki. ‘By the way,’ he said, seemingly casual, but fixing him with a steely stare. ‘Did you hear what we were saying in the boathouse yesterday?’

Taki met his eyes. ‘No,’ he said and gave a nervous shrug. ‘I thought I heard voices, that’s all, I couldn’t hear what was said.’

‘Swear to God?’

Taki nodded and gave another shrug. ‘Sure.’

‘It’s not good to listen in when people are talking,’ Warren said. He turned on his heel and, ignoring the display cases with their ancient reliquaries and beautiful manuscripts, strode across to the furthest corner of the large room.

Taki looked on in surprise as Warren aimed a kick at the skirting board at the base of a huge stone column. Behind him, a panel in the wall opened with a metallic click.

Taki grinned in surprise, but stopped as Warren laid a firm hand on his shoulder.

‘Listen, boetie, that’s a big secret I’ve just shown you. You keep it well, hey?’

‘Okay,’ Taki said, pulling away from Warren’s hand. ‘What’s boetie?’

‘It means little brother, which I think is just right for you,’ he said, and pulled the panel fully open. Lights flicked into life as they stepped into the corridor beyond the panelling.

Warren pulled the panel door closed and remarked, ‘It was good of you to volunteer to help us.’

Taki looked steadily at him. They both knew perfectly well that he hadn’t volunteered at all. But there didn’t seem to be any choice, so there was no point in appearing reluctant.

Warren seemed to be expecting him to protest, almost hoping he would. After a few moments he laughed and headed down a flight of stone stairs into the cellar.

Taki didn’t take in much of the detail of where they went; his mind was turning over the situation he found himself in. Father John with his scorpion tattoo was really scary. Brother Warren was tough and intimidating even though he seemed only two or three years older than he was. He was bossing him around like an older brother might, even calling him little brother in whatever language that was. Taki had the distinct feeling that if he stepped out of line, Warren would take delight in punching him.

Warren had unlocked a door at the foot of the stairs and they were now in the main part of the basement. The lighting was low but he could make out a wide corridor with arches and a series of doors down each side.

Warren chose the second door and flicked on a light switch revealing a big room with a stone floor and cream painted walls. Six metal beds were arranged along each side like an old fashioned school dormitory.

‘There are pilgrims coming tomorrow,’ he was saying. ‘Tonight we get their beds ready and tomorrow we must prepare food for them.’

‘Pilgrims?’ Taki was surprised; he hadn’t heard about pilgrims before.

‘We keep our good deeds quiet,’ Warren said. ‘Mustn’t talk about the pilgrims.’ He turned on his heel and walked across the corridor to an identical room on the other side. ‘Right, boetie, we need to make six beds in this room and ten beds in that one.’

‘But…pilgrims coming here?’ Taki asked slowly.

Warren rounded on him. ‘Yes, pilgrims are coming here and we’re looking after them for a couple of days.’

Taki shrugged. ‘Okay,’ he said casually but wondered who on earth these people were.

‘The bedding is in here,’ Warren said, opening a cupboard door. ‘Sheets, blankets, all you need. I’ll be next door, in there,’ he pointed, then swung his finger around to point directly at Taki’s chest. ‘That room is private, okay? Knock on the door when you’ve finished the beds, but don’t come in.’

‘Okay,’ Taki said again. It seemed that when Warren had said, ‘we need to make the beds’ he meant, ‘you’ll make the beds’.

Taki worked slowly. It was late and he was tired. Also he was trying to work out why Father Theo had handed him over to these two who were not like monks at all. From Africa; maybe that’s the way people behave over there.

His mind wandered to his parents and their divorce. His eyes prickled as he blinked away tears, and he tried to think about something else. Jake had mentioned that his cousin Selena was staying with his mum right now. That would be nice for both of them. He really liked Selena; she was cool. If only he could be home in Athens while she was there. He realised he was feeling homesick for the first time in months.

He finished at last and switched the lights out and closed the doors to the two dormitory rooms. Sixteen beds made but who on earth were the pilgrims?

He was about to knock at the door that Warren had indicated when he heard voices. The solid door was slightly open and, once again, like the boathouse, he heard Warren and Brother John talking. It’s not good to listen in Warren had said, but that was exactly what he was going to do. His jaw set in a firm line.

They seemed to be arguing but he couldn’t make out any words, so he pushed gently at the door. It swung slowly open and he froze, his heart in his mouth.

There was a table down the centre and a row of tall grey cabinets that created a barrier with a separate space beyond. The two monks were out of sight, their voices coming from beyond the line of cabinets.

‘It’s because you put the whole bladdy operation at risk.’ That was Father John’s gravelly voice.

Warren replied, ‘But Scorp, blitzing someone was ridiculously risky.’

Taki’s nerve failed him and he pulled the door shut. It thumped at it closed and he immediately knocked loudly. Moments later it was wrenched open and Warren appeared.

Taki was standing on the opposite side of the wide corridor. ‘I’ve finished the beds,’ he said innocently. ‘I’ll go and tidy the kitchen ready for tomorrow.’

Warren glared at him. ‘Ja, I’ll let you out. There’ll be plenty of cooking to do tomorrow.’

Back in the ground floor main kitchen, Taki checked that there was nobody else around. It was late and almost all the brethren would have gone to their rooms for the night.

He opened the bottom drawer of a large wooden cupboard and from underneath a pile of drying up cloths he pulled out a spiral bound notebook, an HB pencil and an envelope.

He took a crumpled sheet of paper from his pocket and smoothed it out carefully. His brow furrowed in concentration as he stared at the blank page in the notebook and then, consulting the other sheet, he wrote a message slowly in block capitals: A TG IJV T OAFDIP GJIC HQP A GQOP OKDTC PJ XJQ VTAP EJM GD TP PBD UBTKDF NJJM TP EASD KG.