Revenge of the Brotherhood (Book 3 in the Tom & Laura Series) (11 page)

“Did I do a good thing or a bad thing?” Laura asked Daisy.

“Good. I am sure it was for the good.”

Antonia gave Tom a lingering kiss as they lay in bed together. He had given her levels of pleasure beyond anything she had known, remaining throughout a gentleman, even while doing very ungentlemanly things to her. In Kansas, it was just past midnight, but back in England the next day was well underway and Andrea was at her desk in the office.

[Do not start him off again. If someone comes in while he’s doing that to you they will think I am having a fit.] Andrea complained. [I was lucky to make it to the office last time.]

“I am going to miss him when he goes back to his girl,” Antonia whispered. She could have simply thought it, but she wanted Tom to know how she felt.

[I want him before that bitch gets him. Send him to me first.]

Antonia giggled. “You should be so lucky.”

“Wha’? Me?” Tom was only half awake.

Antonia kissed him on the forehead. “Not you, silly. I was talking to my sister.”

[Tell him about the boy. He may not take it in and then you will have fulfilled our promise and he will still not know.]

Antonia thought that was a highly sneaky thing to do. She smiled.

“Oh, Thomas?”

“Wha’?”

“A young man came to see my sister yesterday. He left a message, apparently someone called Ebb is dying and they want you to come home.”

Antonia stroked Tom’s hair and he began to smile. Then, just as she thought she had won he sat bolt upright.

“Ebb is dying?
 
Who sent the message? How long does he have left?” Tom stopped as he realized he was shaking Antonia by the shoulders and she looked terrified.

Annelise Shultz had searched everywhere she could think of for Cam without success. There was no sign of her near the War Office, nor any of the buildings that spies used. She travelled across London spending a fortune paying people good money, simply to be told that no one like her had passed their way.

She then started searching at the most expensive hotels and worked her way down to the taverns that rented rooms by the hour and often rented the same one three times in the hour as clients rarely lasted that long.

“Haf you seen a girl called Ingrid Brown,” she asked a tavern owner. She was about to give a description when the man responded. “Haven’t heard her use that name in an age. She ain’t your type though, strictly sex with men. Won’t even do a threesome. Shame that, as she’s quite a looker.”

“Spare me your sordid dreams. Vere can I find her?”

Ingrid Brown finished off her client and spat the contents of her mouth onto the cobbles where it formed a slimy pool. “That’ll be a shilling, sir.”

The client laughed. “A shilling for that? You’ll take sixpence and think yourself lucky.”

He dropped the sixpence into the puddle and walked away. Ingrid picked it up and wiped it clean.

“Ingrid Brown?”

The accent was German and so Ingrid slipped into her second tongue.

“Who wants to know?”

“My name is unimportant. The important thing is that I will pay you a five pound note for the right information.”

Annelise waved the note in front of Ingrid and her eyes followed its every movement.

“I’ll tell you anything you want for that.”

Annelise asked a series of questions which Ingrid answered with absolute honesty, the thought of the five pound note blinding her from exercising caution.

“And this man pays you five shillings a month, just for you to use another name?”

Ingrid nodded.

“You have been most helpful and I will give you your reward.”

Ingrid put her hand out for the note and Annelise cut her throat with the stiletto in her other hand. As the girl tried to stem the spurting blood and began to drown in it, Annelise stepped away.

“I vood haf killed you slowly if you lied.”

General Brent-Smyth got off his horse and handed the reins to his aide. The horses were twitchy because of the screaming and weeping coming from all directions in the town. Captain Muldrow walked across the street to greet him.

“It is good to see you, sir. The mission has been a complete success.”

“Were the rebels found as we expected?”

The Captain laughed. “They could not move more than a few inches. We have followed your orders to the letter.”

“Show me.”

The Captain led the General into the first house they came too. A woman and young girl screamed in horror, unable to move. In front of them were two dead men, one an old man with white hair and beside him a younger man. Both had been bayoneted in the stomach and bled to death.

“Excellent,” the General’s eyes ran round the room and saw a boy who could have been no more than eleven by the wall. The boy’s eyes darted around the room and he looked paralyzed with fear as much as by Laura’s bind.

“Give me your weapon,” the General demanded and the Captain drew his sword.

General Brent-Smyth thrust the sword into the boy’s chest and then handed it back to his Captain.

“Shoddy work, Captain. I said kill all the boys old enough to hold a weapon. Consider yourself lucky I don’t put you on a charge.”

“Sorry sir. It won’t happen again, sir.”

“Make sure you drill that into all the men. Then tell them they can have all the women they want once they finish up. Do you think they’d prefer the bind broken for that?”

The Captain considered. “Leave it on, sir. They can still wriggle.”

“I will tear it at dusk if it hasn’t already gone up in flames. Pass my congratulations on to the men. This is a famous victory, Captain. There will be medals for everyone, especially our most talented Spellbinder.”

11.
              
Plots

Daisy woke feeling far from refreshed. Many visions of deaths, including her own and Laura’s plagued her sleep. She felt sure they were approaching a crisis point and Daisy, for once, had no idea how it would work out.

Imminent danger approached Tom and Dougal, in more than half of her current visions at least one of them died. She could do nothing about that except trust to luck. She felt it was about time some of it came their way.

Daisy was still trying to convince herself of this when Captain Trentwood burst into the room, a malicious grin on his face.

“Time to get up, ladies. The General has already started out and we must catch him up by noon. I am afraid that means you miss your breakfast.”

“Where are we going?” Laura asked sleepily. Captain Trentwood stepped to the bed and put his mouth close to Laura’s ear.

“GET UP.”

Laura sat up in bed, shocked by the venom in his voice.

“You may be a Class A, but I am in command and if you make us late for the General, I shall have you whipped.”

“Get out, Captain,” Daisy said in a voice that brooked no argument. “If you do not, Laura will not perform her magic to the General’s command and I shall inform him it was a result of your disrespect.”

Captain Trentwood stepped forward, raising his hand to strike Daisy. She stood her ground and he thought better of it. “You have five minutes. A second more and I shall send my men to drag you out.” He strode from the room acting as though he had won the argument.

“I think we better get dressed,” Daisy said and Laura nodded. He most probably would send men to get them.

As soon as they stepped from the room the soldiers waiting outside their door hurried them to the same wagon they arrived in. Daisy and Laura were not so much helped as pushed inside it. Daisy ended up sprawled on the floor between the two plank benches that formed their seating. They sat on opposite sides of the wagon so they could talk; sitting at the rear, so Laura could take glimpses of the outside through the canvas flaps as they travelled.

“I think they forgot to load our chests,” Laura said. The wagon rolled from side to side as its wheels crossed the deep ruts in the ground where the artillery wagons had past by.

Visions flitted across Daisy’s eyes. “I think we will not need them.”

When Laura looked at her in query, Daisy shook her head. The visions were changing as they moved and to explain them further would be a mistake.

The road to the town was in an even worse state than the trail to the mansion. It was as much the girls could do to hold onto their seats as the wagon bounced through countless ruts.

By the time they reached the town they were exhausted and tried to catch their breaths as the wagon vibrated over cobbles. Something hit the canvas next to Laura’s head with considerable force and Daisy pulled her into the middle of the wagon.

“Someone is throwing things at us.”

Daisy’s words were confirmed as stones smashed into the wooden frame and canvas. The canvas tore towards the front of the wagon and a ragged cheer broke out, quickly followed by the sound of rifle fire. The girls dropped to the floor.

“Are they shooting at us now?” Laura asked. The shooting ended, to be replaced by female screams and pleas for mercy.

“I doubt it. That was our escort shooting at the crowd.”

“They are shooting at unarmed people?” Laura was horrified.

A piece of tile flew through the tear in the canvas and shattered as it hit the plank seat, scattering shards over them

“Not completely unarmed, it seems,” Daisy said wryly. A ragged salvo of shots from their escort created a renewal of screaming and the sounds of people running.

Sergeant Wainwright poked his head through the canvas flaps and smiled at them. “Trust you ladies are managing all right in here? We had a spot of bother with the locals, but we seem to have scared them off.”

“We are in good health, Sergeant,” Daisy said as she brushed tile out of Laura’s hair.

“Corporal now, Miss. The Captain did not approve of the consideration I gave Miss Young last week.” Despite the demotion, the Corporal seemed happy with his lot.

“Why are they so upset?” Laura asked. “Capturing their menfolk should not merit such anger.”

Wainwright gave Laura a quizzical look and shrugged.

“Can’t say, Miss. Probably get strung up if I did. Glad you’re safe.”

He exited from the wagon and fastened the canvas flaps together from the outside.

“What do you think he meant by that, Daisy?”

It was Daisy’s turn to shrug and quickly look away.

Tricky knocked on the door to be greeted by the same large woman he saw the last time he visited. Her face broke into a happy smile

“Ebb will be so glad to see you. Oh, and I see you brought a friend.”

Alice mumbled a ‘hello’ and they stepped into the mansion that Tricky now knew was a ‘sanatorium’ even though he didn’t know what the word meant. There was a brass plate on the gates they had read. Tricky and Alice bunked-off school to visit their friend as he had memorized the route.

The nurse took them up to Ebb’s room. As on Tricky’s last visit, Lucy was sitting by Ebb’s side. Ebb smiled when he saw them, but it was obvious that even doing that much was an effort. His face was even thinner and his skin had a pallor that reminded Tricky of the way his grandmother had looked just before they closed the lid of her coffin.

“We contacted, Tom. At least I ’opes we did. We ‘ad to use Arnold and you know what ’es like.”

“I ’elped,” Alice put in quickly as nobody seemed to have noticed her.

Neither Ebb nor Lucy seemed impressed with their news.

“A think ’es goin’ to be too late,” Ebb said weakly. “But thanks fer tryin’.”

“You got weeks in yer yet,” Tricky said cheerfully, though he didn’t believe his own words. Ebb looked as though he might not last the night.

“You have to keep on fighting,” Lucy said, taking Ebb’s hand in hers. “If you give up on me and die, I shall never forgive you Ebenezer Sweeting.”

“Mi mum and dad ‘ill be ‘ere tonight,” Ebb said. “Be nice to see ’em one last time a’for I go.”

Lucy squeezed fingers hard and Ebb winced.

“Knew she’d do that. Couldn’t get mi ‘and away in time.”

“Then you should not have said it,” Lucy said primly. “I did not come here to waste my time watching you die.”

“Best be off then,” Ebb said in a whisper.

Tricky expected Lucy to squeeze his hand even harder, but she surprised him by leaning over the bed and kissing Ebb on the mouth. It was a lingering kiss.

“Knew that was goin’ to ’appen too,” Ebb said when she finished. He smiled and looked more animated, but that faded in seconds.

“I am not leaving until this is over,” Lucy said. Tricky saw a tear run down her face. “One way or the other.”

Tom was out of bed as soon as the sun rose. Antonia, a natural early riser was still in the process of waking up. She struggled to think.

“There is no hurry; you cannot get back to England in less than three weeks and by then the boy will be dead.”

“The Hubris could do it in three or four days.”

Antonia sat up, her mouth hanging open in surprise. “You cannot possibly mean to steal the airship.”

“Ebb put himself between Laura and a bullet that would have killed her. What do you think I should do?”

“But you cannot even fly the thing.” Antonia paused. “You cannot fly it, can you?”

“It seems simple enough. I shall ask Dougal to let me take the helm today.”

“Stealing it with a crew on board will not get you very far. Even you must sleep.” Antonia could still not believe Tom would steal the airship simply to save a child. They would hang him for sure.

Tom gave the matter some thought. “Not today, but tonight when no one is aboard. It really takes two to fly it though. The navigator at the helm, and another controlling the engines and the ship’s attitude.”

Antonia had a short sharp mental conversation with her sister.

“Take me with you today and I will learn how to help you.”

It was Tom’s turn to express surprise

“You realize we will both be shot when they catch up with us?”

Antonia laughed, “They may shoot you, but Telepaths are kept as virtual prisoners at the best of times. We are far too useful and in much too short a supply to kill. I will simply be reassigned to continue relaying messages.”

“But why would you help me?”

Antonia got out of bed and came to his side. She was naked and a thrill went through his body as she hugged him. Her breasts pressed against his shirt and he could feel her nipples were hard.

“Because it will be fun. However, my sister has set a price for her silence in this matter.”

“And what is that?” Tom’s hands strayed while they talked, Antonia had so many delightful places.

“You must do to her what you have been doing to me, and do it to the best of your ability, if only the once.” Tom pulled gently at her hair.

“
Yes, a lot of that sort of touching
. I am relaying her words.”

“Very well. I agree to your terms, provided I am not in a military prison awaiting execution,” Tom said. He considered Andrea’s proposal ludicrous and was sure it would never happen, so it did not matter if he agreed to it.

“Then I had better get dressed. Tell me what you know of what the man controlling the engines does.”

Sir Ernest Trelawney offered Belinda a glass of Brandy, which she refused, preferring to continue with her knitting. For the first time since he met her she seemed to be knitting something he could recognize. It appeared to be an item of baby clothing. A fact that left Trelawney nonplussed.

Thus it was Belinda who spoke first.

“What does Camilla plan to shoot us with?”

“She will use a four shot pistol with an extended barrel for added accuracy.”

Belinda smiled. “I take it that there is such an item missing from the gun room?”

“One should only be shot with the very best of weapons, my dear. It would have been ungracious not to let her select one when she visited.”

“Will Miss Shultz be joining her in this enterprise?”

“There is that risk. I will arrange for Arnold and others to stand close in the moments after we are shot.”

“And Camilla?”

“A door at the side of the church will be left open for her.”

Belinda nodded, though she was still concerned for Camilla’s safety. Who knew what the police or an MM3 operative might do? She would have to rely on the incompetence that seemed to be the general standard of both organizations. However, there was something else she wished to raise with her husband to be.

“On another matter; I understand that there was a break-in at Mercury House. My contact in MM1 suggests that a man was involved. Do you think that…?”

Trelawney smiled, “I do not believe we should speculate on the matter.”

Belinda said nothing, returning to her knitting.

Trelawney sipped his brandy and smiled. “It would be good to think my harsh words had something to do with it. At least I would know that my talents have not yet fully deserted me.”

“Permission to bring Lieutenant Wright onto the bridge, sir.” Tom said as he stepped onto the bridge. Dougal turned from looking out of the window and smiled.

“I’m surprised that she wants to go anywhere on this ship after what happened to her last time. But I grant her permission. I think we have proved that the Hubris is safe enough to risk a Grade 1 Telepath in it.”

Antonia smiled as she came onto the bridge in her army uniform. Tom thought she looked particularly pretty in it. For practical reasons her skirt fell to just below her knees, showing more leg than was usual in Victorian society.