by John Booth
That was when she heard the shouts of people coming towards her. This was no surprise. A normal pistol shot could be heard a mile or more away and hers was louder than most.
“Thank you, Sir Ernest. I hope you will appreciate the work I am putting into killing you.”
She left the clearing like a ghost making no sound as she slid through ferns away from the approaching men.
The men carried shotguns and looked like typical gentlemen farmers.
“This is where it came from,” one said. He pointed at the drawing of a heart which was still pinned to the tree. There was not much left of it.
“I pity whoever this target represents. That is excellent shooting.”
“I think they’ve gone now, but I’ve got an itchy feeling between my shoulder blades all the same.”
His companion made no comment, but the two set off the way they had come. They appeared to be in a considerable hurry to leave the area.
It was Tricky’s first chance to be alone with Ebb since he had come to the sanatorium. The girls had gone downstairs to eat and he volunteered to stay by Ebb’s side. The nursing staff had left Ebb entirely to the children since they arrived, having given them instruction in how to care for him.
“Tom ain’t gonner get ’ere in time,” Ebb said, cutting off the lie that Tricky was about to utter.
“’e might.”
“At least I’ll see it comin’.”
“Well, that’s a comfort,” Tricky replied, wondering what it would be like to see your death five seconds before it happened.
“Seen it a’fore.”
“You mean when you took that bullet for Laura. But you didn’t die that time.”
Ebb nodded his head and coughed with the effort. “Ah did. Future split into ’undred’s o’ ways, not just one. Most of ’em, I died. Must be ’ow Daisy sees the world all the time.”
Tricky nodded, though he didn’t really understand.
“Where there’s life there’s ’ope,” Tricky said as though it meant something.
“Look after Lucy, after.”
The Hubris rolled completely over and back again as the storm raged around them. Antonia set the power to minimum to protect the propellers from damage and Tom was using what little thrust was available to keep the ship pointing into the wind. Lightning hit the ship but it passed around them without doing much more than making their hair stand on end.
“The lightning is being reflected by the rain pouring over and soaking the hull,” Baum said. He was clinging onto a handrail for his life.
Of the crew only French seemed to be enjoying himself, giving strange yells of ‘yeeehaaaw’ and the like every time they were buffeted or Tom lost control.
“You seem to be enjoying yourself, Mr. French,” Antonia said.
“You ever rode a bull, missy?”
Antonia shook her head.
“You never know if you’re gonna die. See, that bull could shake you off and trample you easy as pie. The only thing you got goin’ for ya is that it don’t happen very often.”
“I don’t know about Antonia, but you have certainly lost me, Jeremiah,” Dougal said tersely.
“It’s about enjoyment. Once you decide you’re gonna ride the bull, you might as well enjoy it, even if it kills you.”
Tom laughed. He was too busy steering the ship to waste much energy, but he suddenly got it. They were fighting for their lives, but they had all made the choice to be here and it was exhilarating.
“YeeeHaaaw!” Tom shouted as the ship rolled over again and when it righted itself, everybody was laughing.
Tom slumped at the wheel totally exhausted. His arms felt like lead weights and every muscle hurt.
“Coffee?” Antonia asked, giving him a tin mug of the stuff whether he wanted it or not.
He took a sip. It was more syrup than drink, but he had never tasted anything so good. It burned into his stomach and the pain in his limbs eased.
Dougal knelt down beside him. “Are you injured?”
“Just exhausted.”
“Franz got a cut on his head, but the bleeding seems to have stopped. Jeremiah is fine and wants to do it again. Antonia and I are both bruised. The ship did remarkably well under the circumstances.”
Tom looked in Dougal’s eyes and saw the worry. “But?”
“We lost a lot of water when the ship turned over. The water collection system did not take the strain and is now odd pieces of guttering hanging from the ship.”
“Do we have enough water to make it to England?”
“Oh yes,” Dougal said. “The problem is my sextant is in pieces and we don’t have a clue where we are. But we will probably make landfall somewhere before the water runs out.”
Corporal Wainwright took the exhausted horses from the returning patrol and walked them around the camp to cool them down. The officer class seemed to have no idea how to look after their horses and almost everything that kept the camp running had been delegated to him.
The men talked incessantly about what they planned to do to Miss Young and Miss Drew when they caught them and it was getting him down. He had not joined the Army to torture women, especially not ones that he respected and even cared a little about.
He joined the army because he hoped it would make a man out of him, joined at twelve years old when he did not even know how to pleasure a woman, let alone what the world was about. Now after twenty-six years of service for which, on the whole, he felt justly proud, he was going to end up participating in the tawdry murder of two girls. It was not right and he felt powerless to do anything about it.
He found himself silently praying that every patrol coming back would arrive empty handed. That the two women had gone in any other direction, but towards this camp. He wasn’t stupid though and he knew they weren’t either. The girls’ only hope was to reach France and all the territory in British hands would be searching for them. They would certainly come this way and it was only a matter of time before the General caught them.
It was then, as he walked the horses around the camp, that he made his decision. If the women were caught he would stand with them and try his best to save them. It would get him killed; he was absolutely sure about it. But it would be better than living with the guilt of doing nothing.
18. Lost
When they finally spotted land, Tom was no wiser about where they were than when they were lost at sea. According to his diary, it was the morning of Wednesday the seventh of August 1861 and that was the limit of his knowledge. The coastline below him was impressive though.
Dougal searched through a pile of maps, trying to line up features from the land with them. Tom left the wheel to help him, leaving it tied to keep them on a straight course.
“This is probably the northern coast of Ireland,” Dougal said after much deliberation. That island up ahead is Gola and the one behind it is Umfinn.”
“That puts us several hundred miles off course, doesn’t it?”
Dougal laughed. “Hitting any part of the British Isles is pretty good navigation as far as I am concerned. Changing our course to south east should take us over mainland Ireland and over the Irish Sea to Wales. I will work out a route based on landmarks to get us to London. With any luck we should be there by nightfall.”
Antonia came onto the bridge looking worried. “Andrea has another talk with Eric this morning. He let it slip that General Brent-Smyth means to kill Miss Young and Miss Drew when he catches them. Everyone seems certain they are about to cross the border into France.”
Dougal dropped the maps he had just picked up.
“You are certain about this?”
Antonia bit her lip and nodded. “Eric says he passed on direct orders from High Command to bring her back unharmed, but that the mood among the officers is ugly. Even the French border guards know that Miss Young changed the officers into women and are taunting them.”
Tom felt torn between conflicting desires. Ebb would die if they did not get to him soon, but
Laura could be killed if they did not go at once to Brittany.
“I vote that we change course for Brittany,” Dougal said. “We have already kept the boy waiting for days; he might well survive another or already be dead. I could not live with myself if I failed Daisy.”
“But we know where the boy is,” Antonia pointed out. “How would we find the General, let alone the two girls?”
Tom thought that Antonia had a point, though he felt a sharp pain in his stomach as he realized what he had to do.
“Dougal, do you have any maps of Brittany?”
Dougal shook his head. “Only coastal outline maps of Europe to guide us back to Britain if we became lost. But Antonia could copy a map if Andrea obtained one.”
Tom sighed. “Her maps are good enough to guide us through London because we already know the landmarks. They would be useless across a foreign country. We have no choice, but to go for Ebb first.”
“Are you sure, Tom?” Anxiety rippled through Dougal’s words. “Daisy said to follow your lead, but my heart tells me we must change course at once to save her.”
“I am sure, Dougal,” Tom said, though this was not entirely truth.
Laura and Daisy lay flat in long grass and stared at land ahead. They had been heading north since locating the General’s camp the day before, trying to find where the patrols turned back. They ducked their heads as a pair of cavalrymen thundered past on their chargers.
“Perhaps we should cross now,” Laura suggested. “They will not be back for at least ten minutes.”
“There is no cover on the other side of the border for a mile or more. They might see us. It is much safer to get beyond their range.”
“I could use a bind?”
“You only have two sheets of paper left. I would rather you kept them for emergencies.”
Laura disagreed as she had blisters on her feet, but she knew it was a waste of time arguing with Daisy when her mind was made up.
Daisy was beginning to wonder if Laura was right. All paths forward looked disastrous. Every single vision showed them caught either by the rebels or the General. It was most depressing.
“Come on.” Daisy urged Laura to her feet and they moved back into the trees before following the border north.
The deer trail they followed led to a rutted road. Daisy was wary of using roads. They might come to the border at any moment and find one of the General’s men waiting for them.
“We should stay on the deer trails.”
Laura tried to stomp a foot and squealed when a blister burst. “The road follows the same path we were travelling on. If we hear any horses we can always hide.”
There were so many overlapping pictures of them getting caught that Daisy gave up. Several of her visions could be of the road they were on, but then any rutted road in the countryside looks much like any other.
They came to a bridge over a small river. More substantial than they expected, given the state of the road. Daisy hustled Laura into the bushes as soon as they saw it.
“There’s nobody there,” Laura whispered.
“There could be people on the other side.”
“Then let me write a bind.”
Daisy dithered, though Laura’s way was safest. She should have found more paper while they were in the town. Laura could have written a bind on any paper that would have lasted long enough. Unfortunately she had been too busy avoiding the rebels to think of it.
“Come on, let’s risk it.”
Decision made, the girls hurried across the bridge. As they stepped onto the road on the other side, three rebels and an old woman joined them. The rebels carried rifles and they pointed them at the girls.
The old woman said something in French. Laura was beginning to understand it as it was similar to Latin, though they were pronouncing words completely differently from the way she had been taught. Laura thought the woman said, ‘I told you they would come.”
One of the men bound their hands behind their backs while the other two kept them covered. They were pushed and shoved further down the road until they got the idea and started walking.
“Next time I tell you not to write a bind, do it anyway.”
Laura had already reached that conclusion, but it was good that Daisy agreed with her.
The tension on the bridge between Tom and Dougal was almost visible. Dougal stood brooding over the map table and snapped at anybody who spoke to him while Tom’s hands attempted to crush the polished oak wheel.
Antonia left the bridge to return with French in tow.
“Tom, let Jeremiah try his hand at steering the ship.”
Tom shrugged and released the wheel. “Just keep it on the present course and give me a shout when we go over the sea to Wales.” The hidden request that Tom did not have to make was, ‘inform me if Dougal orders a change of course.’
Antonia led Tom out of the bridge and through the observation room. They nodded at Baum who was staring out of the windows and didn’t notice them.
“Where are we going?”
Rather than answer directly, Antonia led Tom into one of the small bunk rooms for the crew and began to unbutton her dress.
“All this stress is going to kill you and I know the perfect cure.”
Tom put his hand on hers, stopping her. “We are nearly back home. It is time I started being faithful to Laura.”
“Are you sure, Tom?”
He kissed her passionately and she responded, his hands holding on to her shoulders. After a long minute they eased apart.
“I am certain,” he said and left the room.
Antonia sat heavily on the bunk and a tear ran down her cheek. Then she hit the mattress with closed fists.
“No, I am not going to remind him what he promised you. You will have to fight that battle yourself.”
A moment latter she grinned. “I doubt very much that Eric would satisfy you. Your desperation is showing.”
Tom went to sit by Baum who still stared out of the window.
“I had dreams of flying as a child,” Baum said quietly. “It used to frighten me when my dreams took me high in the air and there was nothing under my feet, but it also made me determined to build a ship like this. To defy gravity and float with my feet still on solid ground.”
“This is a wonderful craft. It is a shame that governments will use it to fight wars.”
Baum turned to Tom excitedly.
“I knew you would understand. I think you and Miss Wright are the only ones who do.”
“Dougal and Jeremiah are good men.”
“But they are men of war, Tom, men of war.”
Laura and Daisy were taken to a hut and their bound hands fastened to the walls. The door was closed and barred.
“Do you think they know who we are?” Laura asked.
“If they ask us, tell them that you are Daisy Drew and I am the Spellbinder. They have less reason to kill me than you.”
Laura was horrified. “I am not lying to put you in harm’s way. What I did was my fault and if they ask me, I shall explain it to them.”
“The issue is hardly likely to arise as none of them speak English. If they know who we are, or even suspect, they will probably kill us.”
The ropes allowed them to sit on the ground, though it meant having their hands in the air. Laura sat and tried to pull her boots off. Her feet were aching.
After a lot of squirming and not a small amount of swearing as her blisters squashed, Laura finally got both feet free of the boots. She sighed with relief.
“I wish Tom were here. He would touch my feet and all the pain would vanish. Where do you think he is now?”
Daisy had an ominous vision of standing against a wall and being shot. These were overlaid with others where they were being beaten to death. There were incongruous flashes of a future for both of them beyond those events, but Daisy could make out nothing of them. Since they were unlikely to live much longer, Daisy decided to tell Laura what she knew.
“Doug
al made a request for him to come to America. He may still be there or they may be on their way home.”
“Why would he do that? And why would anyone agree? Dougal betrayed us all at the hearings.”
Daisy sighed. “I told Dougal to say what he did so he would be offered the job in America. He did not betray us; it had been decided that our version of events would be rejected long before he spoke.”
“But Sir Ernest lost his job.”
“Even that is not what it seems. I think he decided retirement was a good idea and went along with it.”
“What is so important about this job in America?”
“His father financed certain inventions and persuaded the military to join him in many strange ventures. The one in America involves making a balloon that could be steered across the sky.”
Laura giggled, “Tom is up in the air in a basket?”
“He and Dougal were supposed to fly it back to England to save young Ebb who is very ill.”
Laura laughed at the absurdity of it. “And this is what you have been keeping from me? A balloon crossing the Atlantic to save Ebenezer? How utterly ridiculous.”
“He would have arrived at Sir Ernest’s wedding to take us away had everything gone to plan. There will be trouble there, mark my words.”
Laura shook tears of laughter from her eyes. “Daisy, this is nonsense. Your talent must be fading or perhaps your fears have taken over. There is no such thing as a balloon that can travel across the Atlantic and there never will be. If Dougal has really called Tom to America then at least he will be safe there.”
“There is an airship, Laura. I have seen it in my mind many times.”
“Well, if it turns out there is, I will apologize profusely. But until I see it with my own eyes, I will not believe you.”
Daisy laughed and decided to say nothing about the blonde haired twins and what Tom had been up to with one of them.
When Tom returned to the bridge it was late afternoon. French grunted and offered him the wheel.