Chapter one: Old Poets

Old Poets

The frost had come down from the mountains, covering Andorra in a thin crust of ice, transforming it into a bleak wonderland. It was a thin facade over the decaying body of the city. Something cold pecked my cheek and I looked up to see the first snow of winter beginning to dot the sky around me. Like ash after an explosion, they moved past the dull dilapidated buildings dusting them with white, and then disappearing as they settled.

My legs moved stiffly and cautiously, the ice was the dark treacherous kind... just invisible enough that you could slip at any moment. I continued my tight, awkward steps along the concrete street and into our designated school building.

There was nothing glamorous about my life. Everything was ordinary. My name was ordinary; Lena Everest, no need for a middle name. It was typical for an Andorran, as was my life. Finding my classroom was easy, there were only a dozen rooms in the school. Being on the very outskirts of the territory we were about as far from the Governments mind as we were from them geographically.

Master Knowles was already jotting the bullet points of today’s lesson onto the ancient blackboard as I sat down in my chair. He moved slowly and tiresomely like an old dog resigned to his increasing inadequacy. Unlike the other teachers he didn't scare us. Still I would not miss him when I left next month.

From his writing it appeared the next hour would be spent mercilessly dissecting the words of Shakespeare to eventually and inevitably getting to the answers that awaited us in the textbook. It was so rare we strayed so far from the prescribed learning standards, the governments interpretation of education was numbingly conventional.

I emptied my books onto my desk as Eve sat down next to me. “Today is going to be murder” She complained.

“Is it?” I asked. She threw her bag onto the desk and tossed her hair back.

“I'm done with these pointless lessons, Lena. I already know what I'm going to do and I can guarantee you it has absolutely nothing to do with Shakespeare.” She scowled and pulled out her pencil case.

Our teacher clapped his hands.

“Alright, settle down and read the work on the board” He said monotonously. I set my eyes ahead of me, scanning the words for a second time whilst Eve pulled her phone behind her bag and began texting furiously.

“Who are you texting?”

“Jasmine...” she said without looking up “there’s meant to be a new person in our class today.”

I glanced around the room for an unfamiliar face.

“I don’t see anyone?” I frowned.

“That’s why I’m texting her” She sighed rolling her eyes.

"Eve stop texting please..." Master Knowles instructed, with all the enthusiasm expected after having to repeat his words a hundred times this term.

I wondered what had caught her attention but gave up on the thought quickly. My head was still throbbing from lack of sleep, every thought was unusually taxing. For weeks I'd been plagued by nightmares, knowing exactly their source didn't seem to stop them. I rested my head on my forearms and closed my eyes, barely hearing the sound of the classroom door opening and confident footsteps making their way across the floor. An eerie hush descended over the room.

"Hamish Knowles? I'm Gideon Hawthorne."

That voice... A shiver ran down my spine and I looked up. A tall guy, a good few inches above six foot stood in front of the teachers desk. His back was turned.

His physique struck me first. His shoulders we strong and broad, his body lean and muscled. His hair was wild and dark and he was dressed head to toe in black.

Master Knowles starred up at him speechless.

“I was told you knew I was coming...” He said again. His voice was deep and smooth. It struck the deepest parts of my mind like an alarm bell. I couldn't shake the feeling I'd heard it before.

“Yes. Of course, Mr Hawthorne” Master Knowles said almost nervously, he cleared his throat “Do you have your lessons card?”

He took it out of his pocket and handed it to him. Master Knowles flicked his glasses up his nose and took it.

“Let’s see, shall we...” He studied it, still a little shaken “Yes, all there. Would you like to take a seat next to Lena she has a spare."

He looked round, his eyes immediately connected with mine. They were a startling blue.

Gideon walked towards me stopping before my desk to shake my hand.

“You're Lena, right?” he raised his eyebrows.

“It's likely." I nodded and reluctantly gave him my hand.

He grinned flashing shark white teeth that looked halfway charming and half way formidable.

"That it is..." He pulled the chair out from its space and sat down. His long legs dwarfing the desk chair.

My phone buzzed and I whipped it out of my pocket a little too fast. It was Eve.

Hot.

I smiled at the one word then texted back.

How old his he though??

Eve reached across the desk.

"Hi I'm Everlyn," She offered her hand out to him.

Gideon smiled and took it, "Pleasure."

Eve grinned "You're new right? Where are you from originally, you don't look Andorran?"

"I spent the last year in Iceland..."

Eve frowned, as did I. Iceland wasn't strictly governed territory, it wasn't a place you wanted people to know you came from.

"So you went to school there?" I asked.

Gideon shrugged in passive agreement.

"You look crazy old," Eve blurted out. "What are you, like thirty?"

He laughed "Not quite thirty..."

"I'm guessing mid twenties? So you must be really dumb to still be in school right?"

I choked on a laugh.

He barely seemed fazed. "I have some catching up to do."

Eve smiled pleasantly, she seemed satisfied with her interrogation "Well welcome to Andorra, Gideon Hawthorne. The crap-heep of the empire."

I attempted to continue with the lesson and began my work hurriedly. My hand writing came out shakier than usual as I scrawled some half hearted notes on the early chapters of Romeo and Juliet. Id got half way down the page when he spoke again.

“Need help?” he asked. He’d been looking at my work and now he sat with his arms folded on the table watching me casually.

“Why, do I look like I need help?” I said glancing at him. I didn’t like the way he leaned his body towards me, the way he studied my face with unflinching eyes.

He gave a short amused noise that came deep from his chest “Well do you?”

Master Knowles suddenly towered over me looking down at my attempt at work.

“Miss Everest if you’re struggling, ask Mr Hawthorne, I'm sure he'll help you out.”

Gideon gave me a sarcastic wave. I found myself smiling.

"His records are astounding!” Master Knowles chirped happily as he fanned through the papers in his hands.

Gideon mouthed the word ‘astounding’ so only I could see. I battled with a smile.

“Is that fine with you Gideon? Can I call you that or do you prefer Mr Hawthorne?” Master Knowles grinned. I'd never seen him so pleased.

“Gid is fine.” He said mercifully.

I smiled, I liked that.

He sat up in the chair and dragged it closer, opening the copy of a Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet.

With a husky sigh he flattened the page to the spine and knocked my knee with his “So Juliet... Where do we begin?”

I narrowed my eyes before answering, “Romeo crashes the Capulet ball” I said cautiously.

“Why?” His mouth twitched as he hid a smile.

"He's looking for Rosaline.”

“Why?”

“He loves her.”

Gid raised one eyebrow “Does he?”

“Well he thinks he does. Shakespeare uses Rosaline to reveal Romeo's emotional state at the beginning of the book. He wants to love her, but she doesn't reciprocate, it's false. So when he meets Juliet he falls fast and hard because he was already ready to love her, therefore it's this overmastering and immediate love."

He bit his lip indecisively. “Its a good answer, but not the one I wanted."

I starred back in confusion.

“But thats what we've been taught..." I said, immediately defensive. I knew I'd given a good answer.

"That doesn't matter."

I searched his eyes. Realising for the first time how many shades resided there, it was as if they moved like water.

“Believe it or not Lena people want to know what you actually think. It's a choice you have to make between reciting simple lines or actually letting people know you.”

He held the book folded in his hand waiting for my answer “So what do you think?”

I frowned "I think Romeo is whiney and indulged, an insufferable know-it-all. He has this brooding narcissistic quality that causes him to believe he knows the world and himself. He doesn't."

Gideon grinned and turned back to the desk. He reopened my work book and handed me a pen.

I started at him.

My phone buzzed in my hand. Gideon looked down.

His gaze locked on my wrist, his arm rotating across the desk towards my hand. A darkness had crossed over his eyes like a shadow over a lake.

“Who got this for you?”

My insides went cold, as if all my organs had plummeted into cold water at once. Of all the questions he could have asked me, why that one... He watched it as if it was a snake coiled around my arm.

“Why, what's the problem?” I said covering it defensively.

His eyes held almost parental concern “I’ve seen one like it before.”

“It was my father, he died.” Immediately I regretted my words.

He didn't seem surprised. "You shouldn't wear that."

"What...?"

Gideon didn't move, he seemed to be working something out in his head.

The bell rung throughout the building, signalling the lessons end. After not a moments pause Gid stood up and stuffed his copy of R & J into his bag, swinging it onto his shoulder.

"You should trust me. I'll see you again soon."

And with that he walked from the room.

All around me people hurried to pack up and leave, I watched the space where he had left.

“That was strange” Eve said from next to me.

I nodded.

"We should go Lena, we'll be late."

I nodded again and packed up my things.

Eve gave me a knowing smile and suddenly looked very motherly, I forgot how well she knew me.

“Any news on Finn yet?” She asked, peering at me as if at any moment I could change into something else.

When you’re grieving, people look at you like your hiding a monster under your skin. You become un-relatable. You’re no longer the person they knew, you’re the silent protocol of the How are you? and the I'm sorry to hear about that. and the five hundred over ways to say I have no idea what to say to you anymore.

“No nothing” I said. Finn wasn't dead. But in the eye of everyone in Andorra he was as good as. He'd gone missing a month ago, it was rare but not unheard of. Children were taken from their family's to be added to the military programme. They were always searching for genetically superior people to be trained as soldiers or used to breed more. The Andorran's had always given me and Finn sad glances when we were younger, especially Finn. They had expected him to be taken. What surprised them was how long it had taken. Finn was twenty-one next month.

“And how are you Lena?”

“Good” I nodded.

“How long has it been now?”

“A month to the day” I said without emotion.

“And you still remember nothing?”

I nodded. Eve scanned my eyes, I could tell she didn’t believe me. And to be honest I didn’t blame her. I'd been with him when he was taken, we'd been walking in the mountains. I'd come back, dazed and alone with nothing but a scratch on my arm. And the unbelievable truth was, I couldn’t remember anything at all.