by Jane Kerr
“Let me at him. I’ll sort it. What you need is a bit of muscle.”
No! Danny wanted to scream. No! He reached to pull the boy back, but he wasn’t quick enough. The groom was already marching straight at Maharajah with none of the patient care that Sandev had taught.
Maharajah brought down his head and lunged. His roar was echoed by a scream as the lad was flung against the wall. He slumped to the floor, one arm twisted under his body at a peculiar angle. Danny wasn’t sure if he was even alive.
“Good Lord, did you see that? The beast’s a killer.”
The other men had begun backing away. One of them stopped to examine the fallen boy. “Not yet, he isn’t. He’s still breathing. Come on, let’s get him out!”
The injured groom regained consciousness long enough to scream in pain as he was lifted and carried outside. Danny watched them go, but he didn’t follow. He couldn’t leave Maharajah or Sandev.
It was up to him to get them out.
Maharajah’s cries were more subdued now that the stables were less crowded, although he was still thumping the wall furiously. It didn’t seem to bring him any comfort.
Danny held the ankus low to the ground, and out of nowhere, a hum came from the back of his throat. If it had been some other time, he would have marveled at the sound, but now it didn’t seem particularly important.
Moving slowly, he reached for the apple in his pocket. Above them, the building creaked.
It was strange; the noise should have frayed at his nerves, but instead Danny felt calmer. The feeling seemed to spread out from his center through to the tips of his fingers. He was careful not to charge directly at the elephant as the stable lad had done. Instead, he approached from the side, edging closer, inch by inch.
He knew immediately when Maharajah realized who he was. The dazed vision cleared and the gold eyes focused. Raising his trunk, the elephant explored Danny’s face. And for the first time, the bellows stopped.
The relief was overwhelming but Danny stayed unhurried. He continued humming, unsure if it was helping but reluctant to stop. He almost shouted in triumph when the apple was swiped from his hand. Now he had Maharajah’s full attention.
Briefly he glanced to where Sandev was slumped against the wall. He couldn’t risk leaving him here until he came back later. The building was likely to collapse at any moment.
Stooping carefully, Danny wedged his body under Sandev’s arm and pushed upwards. The mahout groaned but stood, leaning heavily against Danny’s side. With luck, they could guide Maharajah through the debris together. It would be awkward but just possible.
Danny wrapped a hand around Sandev’s waist and tightened his grip on the ankus with the other. He took a step and felt Sandev move with him. The pace was slow but steady. Come on, Danny thought, just a little farther. Please.
Suddenly, a blackened timber slipped from its fixture, and the roof groaned. Sandev didn’t seem to notice, but Maharajah’s attention flickered then froze. He rocked his head again.
Forwards and back. Forwards and back.
Danny paused, trying not to panic, but inside he was praying like he’d never done before. Not knowing what else to do, he hummed a little louder. The sound seemed to float above the smoke. Maharajah stopped rocking. Slowly, he lumbered forwards, and together, they reached the door.
Almost immediately, a large wooden beam came crashing down behind them. It was where they had been standing only moments ago. Danny felt his knees buckle.
The smoke was still heavy when they burst out into the courtyard, but it was obvious that the fire was finally under control. The flames had been pushed back to a small area of the stables, and most of the servants were busy clearing the damage.
Danny was relieved to see Mr. Saddleworth kneeling at the side of the injured groom. His medical bag was open. “Looks like he’s suffered concussion and at least two broken bones, but he should be fine. You need to take him to the main house. The village doctor will be there by now.”
He closed his bag and glanced up. “Good Lord!”
Danny could only imagine what they must look like—Maharajah, emerging from the dark like a walking mountain, alongside a soot-scarred boy and a man who was very near to collapse.
“Let me.” Mr. Saddleworth eased Sandev’s weight away from Danny. “It looks like he needs medical treatment.”
“No. No.” Sandev lifted his head weakly. His words were slurring. “I cannot leave Maharajah.”
“You have to, Sandev. I’m not giving you a choice. The smoke’s damaged your lungs.” Urgently, Mr. Saddleworth signaled two nearby footmen. “Take him to the main house. And make sure he sees the doctor. I reckon there’ll be a few more patients by the time this night is over.”
The men left, propping up Sandev between them. Almost immediately a shout resounded around the courtyard.
“There he is!” The crowd parted, and Lord Cawthorne swept through. Albright followed, one step behind. “This is all his fault.” Red-faced and spitting, Lord Cawthorne jabbed a finger at Maharajah. The elephant had begun an odd nervous sway. “My life’s work ruined, and that beast is to blame.”
“I’m sure you’re right, Your Lordship.” Ogden lined up alongside his master, and Danny’s mouth loosened. “No doubt the animal knocked over a lantern and caused the fire. My staff know better than to do such a thing.”
“And so do mine.” Now Barnabus had joined Lord Cawthorne and Albright. It was beginning to feel like a hanging jury. “My grooms are more careful with the horses than they are with their own mothers. Besides, that animal needs punishing. He nearly killed one of my boys.”
Suddenly Danny realized what this was all about. The Abbeystead staff were looking for someone—or something—to blame. And it was better to point at Maharajah than towards one of their own. They were protecting themselves and their jobs. A small part of him understood, but mostly he was fiercely angry.
“If that’s the case, then I suggest the solution is simple.” Albright stepped into the center of the courtyard. He didn’t need to shout. Abbeystead seemed to have fallen silent. “The creature should be destroyed.”
A kick in the stomach would probably have hurt less, Danny imagined. Everything had fallen into Albright’s hands; he had no reason to keep Maharajah alive. A dead animal couldn’t win the Elephant Race.
“An excellent suggestion, and there’s no need to wait. I’ll do it myself. Get me a gun, Ogden. The largest one from my last hunting trip. It’s in the cabinet.”
“Yes, Your Lordship.” The butler left at a run. Danny could actually feel the panic swelling inside. It seemed to rise up and block his throat. He looked around for help.
Mr. Saddleworth was holding up his hands. “Please, Lord Cawthorne, I ask you to reconsider. Maharajah has never harmed anyone before. I’m sure that whatever happened here was a dreadful accident. This is not the time to reach hasty decisions.”
“My decision is made, Saddleworth. And I’m not in the mood to argue. You know as well as I, that some animals need to be destroyed. Once they get a bloodlust, there’s no stopping them.”
“But won’t you—”
“No. I’m afraid, it’s too late.”
The crowd parted as Ogden returned, the gun cradled in his palms. The barrel was longer than a man’s arm, and the handle had been polished until it gleamed.
Settling the weapon on his shoulder, Lord Cawthorne took aim with the ease of someone who had done it many times before. He cocked the trigger.
And that was the moment Danny stepped in front of the gun.
This time, it wasn’t an impulse—not like at Waverley Station, when he’d grabbed the whip out of Albright’s hands. No, this time Danny knew exactly what he was doing. Because he hadn’t forgotten the Wormwell auction, or his first glimpse of Maharajah. He hadn’t forgotten the curious sense of kinship, or the warmth of being held. And he hadn’t forgotten being rescued from the River Esk. He owed Maharajah his life.
“Don’t be
a fool. Get out of my way!”
But Danny stayed exactly where he was. Because he knew that if he moved, Maharajah would die.
“I said move”—Lord Cawthorne gestured with the gun—“or you’ll get hurt.”
Danny stepped closer. He was within an arm’s length of the barrel. From this position he not only blocked the weapon’s line of sight but he could also push the muzzle off target.
“Obviously, you don’t understand, Your Highness.” Lord Cawthorne’s face was so contorted with anger he was almost unrecognizable. “MOVE!”
He pointed the gun at Danny’s feet, and pulled the trigger. Dirt and stones sprayed up from the ground. The noise ricocheted around the courtyard, bouncing about in the silence.
Danny’s confidence wavered. A damp trickle ran down his spine. He hadn’t really believed Lord Cawthorne would shoot. How wrong he’d been. Then Maharajah let out a deafening roar. His ears fanned out, and he lifted his tusks so they stood up like spikes.
A shocked murmur rippled through the crowd. Abbeystead’s servants had formed a half circle around them, but now they shuffled farther away, some tripping in their haste. One of the housemaids began weeping.
And at that moment, Danny knew he was completely on his own. Even Mr. Saddleworth was powerless. He’d already tried and failed. There was no one else to turn to for help. Fear fixed him like a nail.
Then the crowd parted for a thin man, wearing a flannel nightshirt and nightcap. Reverend Applerow must have come straight from his bed. Behind him was Mrs. Applerow, similarly dressed. And at her side was Hetty, trembling in the cold. Danny had never been so glad to see anyone in his life.
“Good gracious, Your Lordship!” The vicar stared at the gun. “What in heaven’s name are you doing?”
“This beast started the fire.” Lord Cawthorne was reloading the weapon. He didn’t even glance up. “I’m simply making sure he never causes any more harm. Unfortunately, the Prince appears to be in the way.”
“My dear sir, this is not the way to settle an argument. Threatening a boy and an animal—it’s madness. Have some Christian charity, please.”
“No. And I must ask you to stay out of this, Reverend. It’s none of your concern.” Lord Cawthorne raised the gun again and steadied the barrel.
At his shoulder, Albright nodded. “His Lordship is quite correct. You know nothing about the situation, Applerow. This isn’t the first time the animal has caused trouble. He has a history of destroying valuable property. Why I, myself, have seen him run mad in Edinburgh. On two separate occasions.”
Danny started to shake his head before Albright had even stopped speaking. That wasn’t the whole story. He opened his mouth to shout out a denial but the only sound that emerged from his throat was an ugly grunt.
“Perhaps that’s true, sir.” Reverend Applerow frowned. “But I’m a man of God. And didn’t God create all living creatures—animals as well as humans? No decision over life or death should be made in the heat of anger.”
“You may mean well, Reverend, but do go away.” Lord Cawthorne’s finger tightened on the trigger, and Danny heard the gunlock. “You’re not needed here. This is my animal to kill.”
“No! NO!”
Across the courtyard, Hetty pulled free from Mrs. Applerow. Weaving through the crowd, she ran towards Danny, and before anyone could stop her, she grabbed his hand. Warmth spiraled up into his chest. He wasn’t alone. She’d said so; now he actually believed it. Behind them, Maharajah rocked and bellowed. But Danny felt strangely calm.
“Henrietta, come away. Now!” Mr. Saddleworth didn’t look calm. He looked terrified.
“I won’t, Papa. Don’t make me. I’m staying here.” Hetty twisted her fingers around Danny’s until they were knotted so tightly together he thought it might be impossible to wrench them apart.
“Your Lordship. I’m begging you.” Mr. Saddleworth had spun around, his eyes wide and frantic. “Put down the gun so we can sort this out. My daughter … she’s all I have. And the boy … they’re just children. Please!”
“No. This animal needs to be dealt with. And you seem to have as much trouble controlling the elephant as you do your own daughter. I’ll handle this.” Lord Cawthorne jerked his head at Danny and Hetty. “Now move them out of my way, before I get my men to do it.”
Footsteps stomped across the flagstones, and Danny was dimly aware of people pushing nearer. But they were only shadows at the edge of his vision, because every fragment of his focus was on the gun.
Reverend Applerow was speaking again. “Your Lordship, you may be right. Perhaps the elephant has run mad. However, we need to address the question as gentlemen. I believe everyone deserves a fair hearing. And you have a reputation as a man of reason.”
Danny wondered if that was true. He half suspected the vicar was using flattery because logic had failed. If it worked, he didn’t care. He kept his eyes on Lord Cawthorne’s gun.
“So everyone is entitled to a hearing, are they? Well, in that case, let’s hold a trial.”
“Put an elephant on trial?” The vicar sounded as astonished as Danny. Not since Mr. Jameson had dreamt up the story of Prince Dandip had he heard anything more ridiculous. “You mean in a court of law?”
“Why not? You’re the local magistrate. You could arrange it.”
“But he’s an animal!”
“You just said God made animals as well as humans. Then they should obey the same laws as the rest of us.” Lord Cawthorne made the idea sound almost reasonable. Moving his finger off the trigger, he lowered the gun slightly. Danny’s breathing came a little easier. Beside him, Hetty squeezed his hand.
“Agree to put the animal on trial for starting the fire, and I’ll put the gun away. Then when he’s found guilty, I’ll kill him myself. That should satisfy the courts. And the Church. In fact, I imagine the whole country will be grateful to me.”
Danny looked down. The gap between his chest and the gun was very narrow.
“Very well. If it’s the only way that we can settle this as God-fearing Englishmen. I shall speak to the judge in Lancaster. The court of assize is currently sitting. We may be able to arrange it quickly.”
“The sooner the better. A message can go out tonight from Abbeystead. I want that animal dealt with.”
Abruptly Lord Cawthorne tossed the gun at Ogden, who staggered under its weight. Danny released a deep breath. The tight feeling around his chest loosened.
“Saddleworth, I’ll have to withdraw my invitation for you to stay. I suggest you all find alternative rooms in Lancaster for the trial. And I must insist that the elephant is chained and guarded, because it’s obvious he can’t be trusted. I’ll have my men deal with it.”
Hetty let go of Danny’s hand only when Lord Cawthorne had disappeared from sight. “You did it!” she shouted. “You saved Maharajah.”
“Don’t you dare celebrate, Henrietta Saddleworth. That was the most stupid, foolish, reckless …” Mr. Saddleworth was struggling for the right words. “Don’t you realize how dangerous it was? You could have been killed. Both of you.”
“But we weren’t, were we? And if Danny hadn’t stepped in, Maharajah would be dead by now. He’s a hero …”
Danny didn’t feel like a hero. Every nerve was stretched tight, his heart hammered, and the backs of his knees felt soft. He wanted to sink into the ground. But Hetty wouldn’t let him. She swung her arms around his chest and held on. And oddly, the prickling feeling that usually came whenever he was touched wasn’t there.
But Mr. Saddleworth was frowning. “I’ll have to send a telegram to Manchester at first light. Mr. Jameson needs to get here as soon as possible.” He shook his head and took a deep breath. “I’m sorry, Danny, you may have saved Maharajah tonight but we’ll still have to fight for him in court. And even if we win, he has to reach Belle Vue in little more than two days. I’m afraid everything’s against us.”
There was already a crowd outside Lancaster Castle when Danny arrived the next mo
rning. He couldn’t have dreamt of anywhere more intimidating to hold the trial.
The huge stone castle loomed high on top of a hill. Two towers sat on either side of the arched doorway and, tucked away at the back, was a small cobbled square where murderers and thieves were taken for hanging. It was gray and cold and frightening.
Outside, a small group of people were waving placards and shouting.
“Maharajah must die!”
“Kill the elephant before he kills us.”
One old man shook his fists at Danny and he had to jump back so as not to be hit. “That beast is one of the devil’s creatures. He be possessed by an evil spirit. I’m warning you. Death will follow you. Death and damnation.”
Danny wanted to scream at them to go away and to take their lies with them. The sick, anxious feeling had formed a hard ball in his stomach. He rubbed the spot where it hurt the most, but nothing he did seemed to make a difference.
“Come on, Danny. Don’t let that nonsense bother you.” Mr. Saddleworth pushed him past the protesters and through the castle gates. Crimple followed alongside Sandev, who had recovered enough to walk—if not to talk.
Hetty scurried after them. “Yes. There’s no need to worry.” She touched his arm lightly. “Everything will be fine.” But Danny could tell she didn’t really believe it. Her face had lost its normal brightness, and her freckles stood out like warning signs.
Inside, the courtroom was even more impressive, with high walls of polished wood, and a judge’s chair as big as a throne. It was already overflowing with people. Danny stopped and stared.
There were a few familiar faces—some friendly, some not. Alfred Kibble sat in the press box with the rest of the reporters. The Applerows had squeezed into the public gallery. And, of course, Arthur Albright had managed to grab a front-row seat.
Right at the front was Mr. Jameson, who had just arrived from Manchester. He and Mr. Saddleworth were talking in hushed tones.