The Caged Griffin Read online

  Contents

  Cover

  About the Book

  Title Page

  Maps

  Armouron

  The new generation of the Armouron

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Also by Richard Dungworth

  Copyright

  About the Book

  THE ARMOURON

  They fight for freedom. And the galaxy needs the brave young knights.

  A DERELICT POWER STATION

  A Secret base for those who oppose the Corporation

  GENERAL DECIMAL

  He has a massive army of robots ready to attack the rebels.

  It’s time to buckle on the armour and go into action . . .

  But watch out for the android troops – they are programmed to destroy!

  Far back in the mists of time, an order of warrior knights was forged. They were the Armouron: a dozen heroes dedicated to the ideals of honour and justice. And twelve totems of great power, each borne in the breastplate of an Armouron’s suit, were crafted by these First Knights.

  The order grew steadily in strength and number. The knowledge, skills and experience of one generation of knights passed to the next.

  For millennia, the Armouron campaigned against corruption. But the order came under threat. Giant corporations fought to seize the balance of galactic power. In the struggle to oppose them, all but a handful of Armouron were killed. The survivors were scattered across space.

  Now the galaxy has fallen on dark days. Many worlds, including Earth, have been overrun by the largest of the power-hungry corporations. Perfect Corp, led by the sinister Chairman, controls every aspect of life on Earth.

  Hope still burns, however, in the Armouron medallions. Many are lost. But five of the original Twelve have found their way into the hands of a group of youngsters, living in the city of Nu-Topia, at the very heart of the Chairman’s corrupt regime.

  A new generation of Armouron Knights . . .

  The new generation of the Armouron

  Rake

  Armouron title: Templer, the Fearless

  Role: Strategy and Offence

  Tea-Leaf

  Armouron title: Balista, the Shadow

  Role: Spy and Scout

  Oddball

  Armouron title: Sappar, the Inventive

  Role: Scavenger and Engineer

  Hoax

  Armouron title: False-Light, the Trickster

  Role: Deception and Misdirection

  Snow

  Armouron title: Alida, the Shieldmaiden

  Role: Protection and Evasion

  The Armouron master Salt

  Armouron title: Claymore

  Role: Master Craftsman and Teacher

  The Armouron Code:

  Honour, Duty, Compassion and Justice

  Chapter 1

  Bruisers and Losers

  ‘GET A MOVE on, you idiot!’

  Stamper gave the black-haired boy crouching at his feet an impatient cuff around the head.

  ‘I need to be ready to fight now, not in a week’s time!’

  The boy’s shoulders tensed beneath his tunic. He was struggling to keep his temper.

  What wouldn’t I give to smack him one in his ugly mug, thought Rake bitterly. He snapped shut the last magna-buckle on Stamper’s left leg guard. Half a season in the Arena and he thinks he’s it . . .

  He reached for the matching greave lying beside him – the final part of Stamper’s armour.

  If you can call it that. Rake turned the leg guard over in his hands. Compared to his own unique body armour – which right now was safely stowed in its hiding place – Stamper’s seemed crude and clumsy. This showy stuff was what all the Academy Gladiators wore. It might look flashy, but Rake would take his own ultra-light, ultra-tough suit any day.

  ‘I said, hurry up!’

  A jab from Stamper’s toe-cap brought Rake’s mind back to the job in hand. Trying to keep his cool, he fitted the greave against the Gladiator’s hefty shin and began fastening its buckles. With the last one done, he stood up.

  ‘About time!’ Stamper snarled at him. ‘Just my luck to be kitted out by a dunk-head like you and your klutz of a sidekick!’

  A pale, flame-haired boy stood beside Rake. He was weighed down with the rest of Stamper’s equipment. This included a helmet, a shield and a slingshock – a throwing weapon comprising two heavy balls linked by a length of chain.

  The boy responded to Stamper’s insult with a cheery grin.

  But Rake felt his temper flare again. ‘Great put-down,’ he said sarcastically under his breath. ‘Calling me and Hoax names must make you feel real tough.’

  Stamper lunged forward. His livid face was only centimetres from Rake’s.

  ‘Don’t get smart with me, cadet!’ he spat. ‘You may think you’re some sort of big-shot, but until you make Gladiator – if there’s any chance a nohoper like you ever will – you’re just here to do my dirty work. Understood?’

  A hush had fallen across the Attiring Chamber. Half a dozen other Gladiators were getting ready for the day’s programme of beast-battling, competitions and one-on-one combat. They each had a pair of cadet attendants to assist them. All had stopped working to watch the promising face-off between Rake and Stamper.

  But a moment later the tension was broken by a loud buzz that filled the chamber – the first time signal. On cue, a group of seven low podiums rose smoothly from the chamber floor. Each was brightly lit from underneath.

  ‘You’re on, big fella!’ beamed Hoax, offering Stamper his equipment.

  Stamper held Rake’s fiery gaze for another long second, then pushed him away with a dismissive grunt.

  ‘Later, loser!’

  He snatched his helmet from Hoax and put it on. Grasping the slingshock’s chain in one heavy fist and his shield in the other, he strode towards the glowing platforms.

  Stamper and his fellow Gladiators each mounted a podium. The buzzer sounded for a second time. Seven circular apertures opened in the chamber’s high ceiling. Through the openings, the noise of the excited Arena crowd could be plainly heard.

  The glowing podiums began to rise, carrying the Gladiators up towards the Arena above. As they ascended, each fighter struck a commanding pose – chest puffed, chin high, feet planted wide.

  Within seconds, they had disappeared from view. The sound of the crowd dropped in volume as the podiums plugged the ceiling holes. Even so, the cadets could still hear the enthusiastic yells, screams and applause that greeted the arrival of the Gladiators.

  Rake listened to the excited cheering.

  They wouldn’t be so impressed if they knew the whole thing was a sham.

  Before his enrolment as an Armouron knight, Rake’s ambition had been to become the most famous Gladiator the Arena had ever seen. Now he knew that the Gladiators’ celebrity was built on a lie. Their fights were fixed.

  From here on in, although he still wanted to win every Gladiator medallion he could for competition and achievement, he was going to fight for more than a phoney trophy. He would fight for the Armouron ideals: Honour, Duty, Compassion and Justice. And maybe one day, the people of Nu-Topia would chant his name, as they were now chanting Stamper’s . . .

  A dig in the ribs from Hoax put a stop to Rake’s daydreaming.

  ‘Come on, let’s get som
ewhere we can watch!’

  The other attendants were now making their way out of the chamber’s main exit. Rake and Hoax quietly headed for a second, smaller passageway. As they did so, they were joined by another cadet – a girl, younger than either of them, with a slight build and striking white hair.

  ‘Hiya, Snow,’ whispered Hoax. ‘Coming to see the show?’

  The girl nodded silently.

  ‘Count me in too!’

  All three cadets started at the sound of a voice right behind them. A tanned, wirily built girl of around Rake’s age stepped out of the shadows near the chamber wall. Unlike the other three children, she wasn’t wearing the standard white tunic of an Academy student.

  ‘Tea-Leaf! What are you doing here?’ hissed Rake. ‘I thought you were supposed to stay down in the Old School!’

  ‘Yeah, yeah,’ said Tea-Leaf. ‘But Salt has had me polishing shield studs for about a century now. Soooo boring! He’s busy in his workshop, so I thought I’d sneak up and grab a front-row seat with you lot.’ She dismissed Rake’s frown. ‘Don’t worry! Nobody’s seen me but you. Stealth is my thing, remember?’ She struck an exaggerated pose and whispered dramatically, ‘I’m Balista, the Shadow . . .’

  Hoax and Snow grinned, but Rake looked unimpressed.

  ‘I heard Stamper getting stroppy just now,’ continued the newcomer. ‘He really has got it in for you, hasn’t he, Rake?’

  ‘Er, not now, Tea-Leaf,’ warned Hoax, sensing the rising flush in his best friend’s cheeks.

  But Tea-Leaf didn’t take the hint.

  ‘I mean, there’s no way I’d let him talk to me like that.’

  The anger that Rake had been bottling up now came flooding out. He confronted Tea-Leaf furiously.

  ‘Is that right? So what would you have done, exactly?’ His voice dropped to an angry whisper. ‘Used your Armouron training to lay a few moves on him, hmm? Or do you not think there’s a teensy chance that doing that might have blown our cover, and that maybe that would have been a bit stupid?’

  Tea-Leaf had touched a nerve. In truth, using his new skills to take down Stamper was exactly what Rake would have instinctively liked to do. But he was already developing a sense of the responsibility that came with his Armouron role. In joining the order, they had become part of a noble, timeless tradition. Its teachings weren’t to be employed lightly, in the heat of a petty squabble.

  Tea-Leaf looked taken aback.

  ‘No . . . I didn’t mean . . .’

  ‘Good!’ snapped Rake. ‘Because Salt told us not to draw attention to ourselves, remember? Which is why right now you should be down in the Old School, or hanging out with your precious street-friends, instead of risking—’

  ‘Time out, you two!’ protested Hoax. ‘If we don’t get a move on, we’ll miss the start. Come on!’

  Rake, still looking heated, turned away from Tea-Leaf and followed his friend down the narrow service passage.

  Tea-Leaf raised her eyebrows at Snow.

  ‘Someone’s a bit grouchy today, aren’t they?’

  Snow grinned at her. They set off after the boys along the passageway, one of several that crisscrossed beneath the Arena.

  ‘Pen Four is empty,’ said Hoax, as he led the way. ‘I checked earlier.’

  He ducked down another passage, branching to the left. Before they had gone far, it opened into a large, white-walled chamber. Its smooth floor and ceiling sloped to a wide opening at its upper end, which was blocked by a grille of fizzing blue plasma bars.

  The four children scrambled across to the mouth of the chamber and threw themselves down in a row. Like the entrances to the other three beast pens, it was set in the high wall that encircled the Arena’s combat area. Through the bars, they had an excellent view of the stadium beyond.

  And what a scene it was.

  Beyond the high inner wall, endless tiers of seating rose up and back. The vast, sophisticated amphitheatre could hold hundreds of thousands – and for today’s competitions, every seat was full. A giant holographic projection hovered above the central fight stage, showing close-ups of the Gladiators.

  Directly opposite the children’s secret vantage point was another beast pen. Above it, a grand balcony jutted out from the stands.

  There was a sudden fanfare of electro-trumpets. A group of a dozen important-looking Corporation officials, flanked by White Knight bodyguards, emerged onto the balcony. They were led by a short, rather plump man with a big false smile on his face.

  ‘Here he comes,’ said Rake darkly. ‘The universe’s number one slimeball . . .’

  As the rest of his party came to a halt, the man advanced to the front of the balcony, waving majestically at the vast crowd. He addressed his audience, his voice echoing from the stadium’s hi-tech sound system.

  ‘Friends! Nu-Topians! Citizens of our Perfect World!’

  His greeting was cheered enthusiastically.

  ‘As Chairman, it is my pleasure to welcome you all to today’s Gladiatorial Games! In a moment, our valiant contestants . . .’

  He gestured to Stamper and the other Gladiators, who were strutting around the centre of the Arena. The crowd gave another appreciative roar.

  ‘. . . will begin today’s much-anticipated third round of the Perfect Corporation Gladiator Cup!’

  Yet more cheers.

  ‘But before we proceed to the entertainment . . .’ The Chairman’s expression became uncharacteristically grave. ‘I have an important announcement to make. Some breaking news that concerns us all.’

  A hush settled over the crowd.

  ‘General Decimal, my Chief of Peace, has recently informed me of a possible catastrophe in the region outside our city’s western quarter. There is a derelict power station situated just beyond the Limits. It dates from the pre-fusion nuclear days of the Old City. Regrettably, it has begun leaking toxic radiation.’

  Murmurs of concern rumbled around the giant amphitheatre. The Chairman held up his hand to restore order.

  ‘I have the General’s assurance that there is no cause for panic. A task force of four thousand White Knights is now getting ready to deal with the situation. Their job is to secure the disaster area, contain the spread of toxins, and stem the leak itself. The Corporation would, however, ask all citizens to avoid the West One region until further notice.’

  His artificial smile returned. He raised his arms theatrically.

  ‘Now – let the Games begin!’

  The cheering erupted once more. As the Chairman took his seat, the central holographic projection burst into a blaze of light and colour.

  Below the corporate balcony, the plasma bars blocking the mouth of Beast Pen One blinked out. A moment later, a huge, bear-like creature came lumbering from the opening. It had massive forelimbs, three monstrous eye-clusters and jaws lined with lethal fangs.

  ‘A prawlkon!’ enthused Hoax. ‘Excellent!’

  ‘You have to hand it to the Chairman’s lot,’ admitted Rake. ‘That’s one realistic robot.’

  The children were well aware that the so-called ‘beasts’ were as phoney as the rest of the Arena pantomime. The ‘wild alien creatures’ were in truth built to order, in the same top-secret android-manufacturing plants as the White Knights – the Corporation’s supposedly human police force.

  The prawlkon was now advancing on the Gladiators, who had drawn their various weapons in readiness. As the boys eagerly watched the fight unfold, Tea-Leaf spoke quietly to Snow.

  ‘What did you make of all that “catastrophe” stuff? Sounded like a load of dunk to me. I reckon he’s up to something.’

  Although most of the population of Nu-Topia were happily going about their lives believing everything the Chairman told them, the young Armouron knew better now than to trust what he said.

  ‘What sort of something?’ asked Snow.

  ‘Dunno,’ admitted Tea-Leaf. ‘But if he’s mobilizing four thousand Kettles, I’ll bet it’s for more than just a clean-up operation. Chances are some
body is in for a thumping—’

  She broke off as a particularly loud cheer went up. One of the Gladiators had scored a hit. The prawlkon was moving awkwardly, dragging its left hind leg.

  Stamper had so far concentrated on dodging the robotic foe. Now he began to twirl his slingshock in slow circles, in preparation for an attack. As its twin weights gathered speed, they crackled with electric charge.

  ‘I wish he’d get a thumping,’ said Rake bitterly. ‘I notice he’s waited for someone else to disable the thing before he gets involved. Coward.’

  ‘It’ll be programmed to lose the fight, anyway,’ said Snow. ‘To make Stamper and the others look as good as possible.’

  ‘For sure,’ agreed Rake. ‘And the one-on-ones will have been fixed as well. There hasn’t been a fight for months that wasn’t rigged. And of course Golden Boy is in with all the right peo—’

  He was interrupted by the sudden dramatic arrival of a fifth person. A stocky black teenager burst into the pen from the service passage. He was breathing heavily and his peculiar goggles were a little steamed up.

  ‘Oddball?’ said Hoax. ‘What’s up?’

  ‘I thought . . . I’d find . . . you lot here,’ panted the newcomer. ‘You’d better get a shift on – Brand is on the warpath. Says all cadets have to report for a dormitory check in the next five minutes. Come on!’

  Brand was one of the Academy’s strictest supervisors. It didn’t pay to keep him waiting. Besides, they were still wearing their cadet identity belts. It would be all too easy for him to check the belt tracking system to discover their whereabouts.

  As they hurried after Oddball, back the way they had come, Hoax spoke encouragingly to Rake.

  ‘Cheer up, mate. What you said about the fight-fixing may be true, but you never know – Stamper might come off worse than you expect.’

  Rake recognized a familiar twinkle in his friend’s eye. Hoax was famous for his practical joking. Rake gave him a searching look.

  ‘What?’ said Hoax innocently.

  ‘What did you do, Hoax?’ probed Rake.

  ‘Do? Me?’ Hoax looked dismayed. ‘Dunno what you mean!’ He adopted an expression of earnest concern. ‘But you know that sling thingy old Numbskull thinks he’s so handy with? Well, I had a good look at it while he was getting ready, and if you ask me, it wouldn’t take much for one of those chain links to work itself loose.’