The Calling

by Philip Caveney

  ‘And my dog,’ added Ed.

  ‘Yes, and his… er, dog. There are five men in there, all armed with guns…’

  ‘What kind of men?’ asked William.

  ‘They are… bad men,’ said Sherlock.

  ‘Englishmen?’ growled William.

  ‘Er… yes. They are Englishmen, actually. Bad Englishmen.’

  ‘Is there any other kind?’ murmured William.

  ‘Well, yes there is, but that’s a very complicated discussion, best kept for another time. This boy here, he’s been treated most cruelly by these villains. With your help, I wish to bring them to justice.’

  ‘So… you’re telling me that you’ve managed to work out who the boy is,’ said the Colonel, looking impressed. ‘And you’ve brought him back to his home, just as the king asked you to.’

  ‘That’s right,’ agreed Sherlock.

  ‘Using witchcraft,’ said William.

  ‘No, I promise you it’s not witchcraft, but of course, it must seem pretty fantastic to you. Suffice to say that James Clerk Maxwell has invented a method of getting people from one place to another…’

  ‘Clerk Maxwell?’ muttered William. ‘I’ve heard all about him. He’s a dark magician!’ He spat on the ground.

  ‘He’s not,’ interrupted Ed. ‘I’ve met him. He’s just… very clever. And the machine he made really does work.’

  There was a short silence while the two men considered this information.

  ‘So… what do you want us to do exactly?’ asked the Colonel.

  Sherlock pointed once again to the house. ‘I want you to attack that house…’

  ‘Yes! Why didn’t you say so earlier?’ William pumped a gloved fist into the air. He looked as though he was about to race straight across the road and go to work, but Sherlock managed to restrain him.

  ‘Wait! Wait just a minute! I need to explain the situation to you both. It’s not as straightforward as you might think.’

  William scowled but turned back to listen.

  ‘I want you to overpower the five men in that house. But at the same time, you must protect the boy’s father. He’s the one who is tied up in there. Seriously, no harm must come to him.’

  ‘Or my dog,’ added Ed.

  ‘Yes, please watch out for his dog too,’ added Sherlock. ‘He’s very special.’

  ‘Is the boy’s father an Englishmen?’ asked William slyly.

  ‘Er… no, he’s Scottish, born and bred,’ lied Sherlock and ignored the incredulous look that Ed gave him ‘Though his accent may sound a little bit English due to the fact that he’s lived here for so many years.’

  ‘Hmm.’ William looked far from impressed. ‘We all make bad choices in life, I suppose. And the bad men? Are we allowed to…’ He made a hacking motion with his sword.

  ‘Oh no,’ said Sherlock hastily. ‘I don’t mind if you thump them a bit but I want them alive, preferably tied up so they can’t do any harm.’

  ‘And where are you going to be, Mr Holmes, while all this is going on?’ enquired the Colonel.

  ‘I’ll be right behind you,’ Sherlock told him. ‘Ordinarily, of course, I’d have taken them on myself…’

  ‘Oh, I’m sure you would,’ sneered William.

  ‘Yes, really, but I have to be sure that neither the boy or his father…’

  ‘Or his dog!’

  ‘Yes, thank you, Ed. I have to be sure that none of them are injured. And I can’t guarantee to do that when there are five villains to take care of. They may have orders to harm the boy’s father if anything goes wrong. Or indeed, the boy himself. As a father yourself, Mr Wallace, I know you’ll appreciate how awful that would be.’

  William looked suddenly rather misty-eyed. ‘It’s a terrible thing, the loss of your loved ones,’ he said. ‘The worst thing that can happen to a man. It can unhinge you. It can make you demented. It’s the only bit of the film they got right,’ he added mysteriously. Then he coughed, as though embarrassed to have shown a more human side of his nature. ‘I appreciate your concern,’ he said grudgingly. ‘Don’t worry, I’ll ensure all innocent parties remain unharmed. But if those Englishmen push me too hard then, by heaven’s flames, I shall…’

  ‘Just be circumspect,’ Sherlock advised him.

  ‘I don’t know what that means,’ said William, looking baffled.

  ‘I didn’t either,’ Ed reassured him. ‘I think it just means “careful”.’

  ‘Er… yes, quite. Be very careful.’ Sherlock clapped his huge hands together. ‘Now, William, if you would be good enough to cover the back of the house. And Colonel Alexander, if you would take the front?’

  ‘What about me?’ asked Ed.

  ‘You?’ Sherlock looked down at him. ‘You’ll stay here where you’ll be safe.’

  ‘No way! I’m not letting you go in there without me.’

  ‘I really don’t think…’

  ‘Let the lad go in!’ said William. ‘It’s his father in there!’

  ‘And my dog.’

  Sherlock sighed. ‘Oh, all right, but I want you to stay close behind me. The last thing we need is for you to be injured.’

  ‘We’re going to be seen, you know,’ the Colonel reminded him. He indicated the road along which the occasional car was passing. ‘By softies,’ he added, in case anyone was in any doubt.

  ‘I appreciate that,’ said Sherlock. ‘It’s not ideal but I’m afraid that’s something we’re just going to have to accept. Once we’re inside and the villains are safely overpowered, I’ll arrange for a portal to appear inside the house and the two of you will be sent straight back to where you came from.’

  ‘By witchcraft?’ cried William.

  ‘No, by science! I wish you’d stop using that word. It’s most inaccurate. Now, if you’ll excuse me for a moment, I’ve a few preparations to make.’ He turned away, pulling out his mobile phone as he did so. The Colonel took the opportunity to edge Sultan a little closer to Ed.

  ‘So, lad, how have you been since I last saw you?’ he asked.

  ‘Good, thanks,’ murmured Ed.

  ‘Clearly, Mr Holmes isn’t the idiot he’s been painted.’

  ‘Oh, he’s not,’ agreed Ed. ‘He’s… brilliant, really. He worked out everything, just like the real Sherlock Holmes.’

  ‘There was no real Sherlock Holmes,’ the Colonel reminded him. ‘Which is, I suppose, one reason why so many of us statues don’t trust him. But I take your point. And it appears that he’s done a thorough job. I’ll certainly give a good report back to Charlie.’

  Ed made a face. ‘Don’t talk to me about him! He sent a couple of Gormleys after me. They tried to kill me.’

  ‘He did what?’ The Colonel looked shocked. ‘But that’s outrageous! He pardoned you. Everybody in Parliament Square heard him do it.’

  ‘Well, I’m not making it up, honest. They fired arrows at me. If it hadn’t been for Sherlock, I’d probably be dead now.’

  The Colonel tutted loudly. ‘But that’s terrible! A king should never go back on his word. Wait till I tell David about this,’ he added. ‘I’ve no doubt he’ll have something to say about the situation.’ He looked up as Sherlock came back, slipping the phone into his pocket as he did so. ‘The boy gives a good account of you, Mr Holmes,’ said the Colonel. ‘It would appear you have indeed proved yourself to be more than just talk.’

  ‘Thank you,’ said Sherlock, bowing his head. ‘One does one’s best.’

  ‘Don’t give him any more compliments,’ warned William. ‘The man already has far too high an opinion of his own abilities.’

  ‘It’s all arranged,’ said Sherlock, ignoring the jibe. ‘I’ve just spoken to James Clerk Maxwell and…’

  ‘How have you done that?’ cried William. ‘He’s in Edinburgh.’

  ‘I know, but I have a device th
at enables me to speak over long distances. And don’t say that’s witchcraft because I know you must have observed humans using them all the time.’ He looked from William to the Colonel and back again. ‘Now… gentlemen, if you would prepare yourselves?’

  ‘Always ready for battle,’ said the Colonel.

  ‘And always ready to crack some Sassenach skulls,’ added William.

  ‘Just… take it gently,’ suggested Sherlock and then rolled his eyes, clearly appreciating how unlikely an occurrence that was. ‘William, if you’d like to head around the back first? Try to stay out of sight of the people inside. When you hear the sound of Colonel Alexander going in at the front door, you will do likewise at the back.’

  ‘Oh, don’t you worry about me,’ said William. ‘I was born for things like this.’ He turned to gaze malevolently towards the cottage.

  ‘On my count,’ said Sherlock. ‘One… two…’ But William was already gone, racing out of the trees and across the road, passing a couple of startled pedestrians as he did so. He vaulted nimbly over the garden gate, then stooped below the level of the windows and went around the back, out of sight. The pedestrians, an elderly couple, moved slowly onwards, looking repeatedly back towards the cottage as though they couldn’t quite believe the evidence of their own eyes.

  ‘We’ll give him a few moments to take up his position,’ suggested Sherlock.

  The Colonel nodded. He reached out a gloved hand and stroked Sultan’s neck. ‘Reminds me of the old days,’ he said, softly. ‘It’s been a while since I was involved in a glorious charge. Shame there’s just the one of me. It would have been nice to ride alongside some of my old comrades.’

  ‘I’ve no doubt you’ll be more than enough,’ Sherlock assured him. ‘Ready?’

  The Colonel nodded.

  ‘Go!’ The Colonel spurred his mount and Sultan took off through the trees, heading straight towards the cottage. As he crossed the pavement onto the road, he narrowly missed colliding with a car, which blared its horn, but kept on going. Sherlock winced. ‘That was too close for comfort,’ he said. He glanced down at Ed. ‘Stay right behind me,’ he warned the boy. And he too strode towards the cottage with Ed hanging on to the back of his coat. As they crossed the road, Ed peeped out under Sherlock’s right arm and saw that Sultan had just taken a mighty leap and cleared the garden fence. He came down hard on the path, the impact of his bronze hooves cracking the concrete, but he didn’t slow his pace and thundered headlong towards the cottage door. There was an ear-splitting crash and it smashed open on impact, the lock shattered. The Colonel ducked his head and he and Sultan raced inside.

  Almost instantly there was another crash from the back of the house, closely followed by shouts of alarm and the sound of guns firing. By then Sherlock was kicking open the gate and running up the path. Ed stayed with him, matching him step for step. They went through the open doorway and found themselves in a scene of complete chaos. Sultan looked huge in the tiny lounge and the Colonel was leaning over in his saddle, mostly to avoid banging his head on the low ceiling. As Ed watched, the Colonel knocked a burly-looking man flat on his back with one almighty punch. Over at the equally shattered back door, William Wallace was in the act of picking a muscle-bound fellow up by the scruff of his neck. William gave a great bellow and flung the man clear across the room. He crashed into a wall behind Ed and came down in a tangle of arms and legs, taking a rather nice painting with him.

  There were shouts of alarm from upstairs and William made a beeline in that direction, racing up the staircase with his sword held in front of him. There was a brief commotion up there, the sounds of things being smashed and, moments later, a third man came tumbling head over heels down the stairs before crashing headlong into the banister rail at the bottom. He groaned, tried to stagger to his feet, but sank down again and lay still.

  ‘Everybody freeze!’

  Ed snapped his head around and saw his father, still sitting on the sofa, his hands tied in front of him. A fourth man, a big, bearded fellow in a red t-shirt was sitting beside him, a brawny arm around his neck and a gun held to his head.

  For a moment everything was silent. The bearded man was looking around in evident terror, clearly unsure of what was happening here but determined to save his own skin by any means possible. The gun in his hand was shaking and looked as though it could go off at any moment. Dad’s expression was also one of astonishment. He was staring around the room and seemed barely aware of the gun jammed against the side of his head.

  ‘The jig’s up,’ said Sherlock, speaking with surprising calmness to the bearded man. ‘Put the gun down and come quietly.’

  The man shook his head. ‘Stay back,’ he said. ‘Stay back or I’ll shoot.’

  ‘That would be a mistake,’ said Sherlock. ‘You’re outnumbered, you can’t hope to…’

  ‘Back away from the door! I mean it. Me and him are walking out of here and if anybody tries to

  stop us, they…’

  He broke off in surprise as suddenly, shockingly, Lucky leapt over the arm of the sofa and fastened his jaws around the man’s gun arm, wrenching him hard to one side. The weapon went off with a loud bang and a brief flash of light but the bullet thudded harmlessly into the floor by Dad’s feet. Then Lucky had the bearded man down on the floor and was tearing at his arm as though it was a juicy bone. He bellowed in pain and fright.

  Sherlock stepped forward and brought his fist down hard on the gunman’s head, knocking him senseless. He slumped, unconscious, and Lucky backed away from him, growling at the back of his throat as though daring him to get up again. Sherlock crouched and removed the gun from the man’s hand. There was one last shout from upstairs, a couple more gunshots, then a long deep silence. Everybody’s gaze snapped to the top of the stairs. After a few moments William appeared, a no-nonsense expression on his face.

  ‘Piece of cake,’ he said. ‘They barely put up a struggle.’ He looked hopefully around. ‘Anybody else need thumping?’ he asked hopefully.

  Ed finally had time to turn his attention to the man on the sofa. He was looking around the room in sheer open-mouthed disbelief as though he’d suddenly found himself rescued from one nightmare and plunged straight into another one. Ed stepped out from behind Sherlock and his father’s gaze finally found his.

  ‘Sam!’ he cried.

  The boy who was once called Ed, looked up at Sherlock and grinned. ‘Sam,’ he said. ‘Now I’ve heard it, I know it’s right.’ He ran to the sofa and threw his arms around his dad. A moment later, Lucky was there too, licking Sam’s face and yelping with delight.

  William came slowly down the stairs and leaned on the broken banister rail, gazing proudly around at the cottage’s wrecked interior. ‘Now that’s what I call a result,’ he said.

  Twenty One

  Aftermath

  There wasn’t an awful lot of time to sort things out. Sherlock got straight back on the phone and asked James to provide a portal. William Wallace chose to go back first, but not before he’d given Sherlock a meaningful look. ‘You owe me now,’ he said. ‘Don’t think I’m going to forget that.’

  ‘I’m sure you won’t,’ said Sherlock.

  ‘The next time we meet in Edinburgh, I’ll expect you to come out and face me man-to-man.’

  ‘You can depend on it,’ Sherlock told him. He reached out and shook William’s hand. Then he indicated the portal, which was shimmering and rippling in mid-air in the centre of the lounge. Meanwhile, Sam and his dad sat on the sofa, watching in silence. Dad’s expression was still one of total disbelief.

  ‘I just… step through it?’ muttered William.

  ‘That’s right,’ Sherlock assured him. ‘It won’t hurt a bit.’

  ‘Witchcraft,’ said William and he spat on the carpet to make his point. But he turned towards the portal and started singing as he walked towards it.

  ‘I have brought ye t
o the ring

  Now dance if ye can!

  I have brought ye to the revel

  Now see if ye can…’

  He passed through the portal and was gone in a flash of light. Sherlock turned his head. ‘Colonel Alexander?’ he murmured. ‘You’re next.’

  The Colonel edged Sultan closer to the portal. He paused for a moment and looked down at Sherlock. ‘Well, Mr Holmes, it’s been a brief but pleasant interval. I shall report back about Charlie’s devious ways. I’m sure it won’t sit well with a lot of statues.’ He glanced over at Sam. ‘As for you, young man, it’s been a pleasure to make your acquaintance. I’m glad you got yourself sorted out.’

  ‘Thanks, Colonel,’ said Sam. ‘And say hello to David for me.’ He turned to look at his dad. ‘That’s David Livingstone,’ he added. ‘He saved me from having my head chopped off.’

  ‘Did he?’ said Dad. ‘That’s nice.’

  ‘Giddy up, lad!’ The Colonel urged Sultan towards the portal and they leapt through the opening. For a moment he was frozen in the entrance, looking every inch the heroic cavalry officer, then he too was gone in another flare of brilliant white light. Sherlock stood for a moment and looked quickly around the room, appraising the situation. The place looked like it had been hit by a bomb and the five unconscious villains were stretched out where they’d fallen, each one of them tied with a length of washing line that William had foraged from the back garden. Sherlock looked apologetically at Sam’s dad. ‘I’m sorry about the mess,’ he said. ‘I had hoped it wouldn’t be quite as bad as this. But the main thing is, you’re all unharmed and I’ve no doubt your possessions must be insured.’

  Dad was finally trying to find some words.

  ‘I don’t … what… I mean, what the… who the… what is this?’ he cried at last. ‘What’s going on?’

  Sherlock smiled. ‘I’m sure Sam will explain it all after I’m gone,’ he said. ‘Though I’ll tell you now, it isn’t going to make an awful lot of sense. You know what they say. Life is infinitely stranger than anything which the mind of man could invent.’ He glanced towards the shattered doorway. They’d managed to close it after a fashion, but through the front window of the house they could all see a small group of curious people gathered at the end of the garden path, alerted by the sounds of gunfire from within the cottage. ‘Somebody must surely have called the police by now,’ added Sherlock, ‘so I daren’t stick around for very much longer.’ He gestured towards the portal. ‘And I do have a few things to sort out at home.’