by P M Cole
“Sorry, I did not mean to pry.”
He shook his head. “It’s OK. Just a place I would rather forget.”
“The orphanage was not a happy place for you? All I hear is good things about Lord Cannington…” I suppressed the instinctual feeling I had on seeing him, instead relying upon what I heard spoken and read of the Lord.
“He is… well, I am glad for my position at the bank. How are you feeling? It is good you felt able to get up!”
He was right, I was happy to have made it across the room, but tiredness was once again making its claim, so I stood and slowly walked back to the bed.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Colin stood awkwardly at the bottom of the bed, his cap in his hand.
“Would you like some tea, Colin?” said Byron.
“I’m fine thank you, sir.” Colin looked back to me. “How are you feeling? I almost didn’t recognise you when I first came here, with that bandage across your face.” He tried to smile, but his anxiety was obvious. He kept looking at the window.
I was sitting up, a pillow across my back. “Hopefully this can come off soon… but I’m OK. It hurts to move.”
Colin stepped to the side of the bed. In his hand was a small pouch. “Olivia made these for you. There are some herbs. She said make some tea with them, and it should help.” He placed the small bag on the bedside table and sat on the stool, which was now nearby. “So… do you remember what happened?”
My eyes shot between the two young men. “Umm… it was… like we have seen before.”
Colin nodded, his concern obvious. He briefly looked over his shoulder again at the window.
“They tried to… take me, but I fought—”
“The men tried to abduct you? You never mentioned this before,” said Byron.
I forced a smile. “I can remember more now. I fought back, injured one of them I think. Then I managed to get back here. If it wasn’t for Mr Ashmore I’m not sure I would have survived.”
Colin looked across to Byron and the two of them exchanged a knowing nod.
“How long have the two of you known each other?” said Byron.
We both went to reply at the same time, but I won out. “Some years. Colin does some errands for Mr Gladwell.”
“I see…”
Colin leaned in to take a closer look at my wounds, his emotion obvious. He looked down at his cap. “I should have gone with you…”
“This is not your fault.”
He nodded but I could tell he still thought otherwise.
A tap came at the window behind him. He turned around. The sound repeated. He sprung to his feet and looked outside.
“What is it?” said Byron.
“Umm… there’s somebody here… somebody important…”
“No…” Byron looked about the room, then moved into the bathroom. I could just see him checking his appearance.
“What is it?” I said to Byron.
He reappeared. “I’m sorry. I did not know he knew—”
The sound of a number of heavy boots came from the floorboards in the hallway outside. We all waited, two of us though, not knowing for what.
The door shuddered. Someone was knocking on the other side.
“Yes?” said Byron.
“My boy! It is Harold!”
Byron took a deep breath, then opened the door.
My heart sunk on seeing the same man from the album standing in the doorway. Behind him, the arms of two others were just visible. Upon his head was a derby hat, while he wore a dark grey Chesterfield style overcoat, which a cape sat upon. In one hand was a walking stick with a silver top piece which I could not make out properly. A short black and grey beard sat amongst a hardened face, which was contorted into a smile.
He held his arms out and walked forward. Byron wavered, then leaned into the embrace.
Cannington pulled back. “You are looking healthy! Enjoying your time at the bank?”
“Yes, I’m lucky to have such a position. Thank you.”
“I’ve heard encouraging things from the director there. You will be rising up the ranks soon!” The Lord then turned to me, completely ignoring Colin. The closer his gaze got to mine, the colder I felt as if I had just stepped into an ice-cold bath. I tried to avoid direct eye contact, but curiosity drew me back.
“And who is this young lady?”
Byron went to reply, but I beat him to it. “Agatha Hoxted.”
“Hoxted, you say?”
I nodded.
“Perhaps this explains why you were attacked. Young women with the same name have been set upon across London. Really a strange ordeal.” He briefly smiled. “But then London is so crime-ridden these days, all we can do is grin and bear it until we reach more enlightened times.”
“H… how did you know where I was?” said Byron.
“I keep a close eye on all of my children…” The words oozed from his mouth, while his eyes remained fixed on me. I resisted the urge to pull the blanket higher.
A strange silence fell upon the room until as if a spark of life restarted his heart, Cannington turned back to Byron. “I will ask my doctor to pay the lovely Miss Hoxted a visit tonight. I presume she will be accompanying you to Grayton manor on the thirtieth?”
I felt Colin’s eyes on me, but my mind was more occupied by the date. That was my birthday too.
“Umm… yes that has already been arranged,” said Byron.
Cannington slammed his walking stick on the floor. The boom rang through me. “Good! Then I bid both of you a good day, and will look forward to the next time we meet.” He walked to the door and briefly turned to look at me once again. My skin crawled.
Byron forced his face to smile, then closed the door as Cannington walked down the hallway, the two large men in tow.
“Your birthday is the thirtieth?” I wanted to confirm it.
“Yes, why?”
“No… reason.”
*****
After Cannington’s departure, I tried to understand the coincidence of Byron and I having the same birth date, as well as my reaction to a man I had not met before, but failed to find any plausible reason for either. While I slept, Byron had returned to his job in the city for some hours to try and catch up on his work. He returned with a piece of venison and a bottle of fine wine, which we both enjoyed, while I remained in bed, and he eating in his chair nearby.
Once night had fallen and a blanket of fog had dissolved the world outside the window, a knock came at the door. It surprised us both as no footsteps were heard prior.
Byron opened the door. A tall sinewy man looked back at him. He was dressed similar to the Lord had been earlier and removed his hat on seeing Byron.
“I am Doctor Hopkins,” said the tall man, grinning. “I believe Lord Cannington mentioned my arrival?” His words slithered from his mouth.
Byron nodded and stepped back, allowing the man to enter, although he had to duck slightly to do so.
A gust of wind hit the window. I looked across to see the fog now moving past outside in wisps and curls.
“When will this fog leave us, I wonder?” said Hopkins.
“Yes, it has been most persistent,” said Byron.
I had hoped the doctor had forgotten the purpose of his visit, but instead, he swung his head to me. The movement seemed mechanical in nature.
“Hmm… you have been through a frightful time, haven’t you, young lady.”
I looked up at the impossibly tall man, wanting to run from the room.
He looked at Byron. “I’m going to have to examine her… without you being here.”
No.
I looked at Byron, trying to communicate with my eyes for him to stay.
“I… err…”
“I really must insist. Doctor’s work and all that. I hope you understand.”
“I’d much prefer if he stayed.”
Hopkin’s eyes remained on Byron. “If you want me to do my work properly and help this young lady properly, th
en you will leave.”
“OK…” Byron looked at me. “I’ll just be in the kitchen.”
The doctor turned to me as I slunk back in my sheets. “Do not worry. I have a soft touch…”
As Byron moved away. I wondered again why another individual was making my skin crawl. I had always disliked being touched, but this was something else. More instinctive. I slipped my hand down the side of the bed when he was looking away, and placed my finger on the tip of one of the iron nails there.
The doctor put his bag down at the side then sat on the bed.
“First I need to inspect your wounds. If that is acceptable to you?”
I nodded.
He slowly unwrapped the bandage. The last few pieces burned as he peeled them from my scalp.
“Hmm… you took quite a hefty hit to your head, but the injury appears to be healing nicely. I have fresh bandages that I will put on in a bit, but next is your shoulder injuries.”
I gritted my teeth and pulled down my top a small amount to expose the gauze across my shoulders. He repeated the same procedure. As he examined me I examined him. His pupils were large, and his eyes bloodshot, and his skin looked as if it had been tightly wrapped across his skull.
He reapplied the bandages to my head and shoulders.
“Hmm, now I need to see your back.”
“My back? I don’t have any injuries on my back.”
“Best be sure.”
I sighed, turned over, and gathered my top up all the time while my finger touched the top of the large nail, which was now under my control and free of the wood frame.
“Ah…”
“What?”
“I see you have a birthmark.”
“Yes… what does that have to do with my recovery?”
Ignoring my question, he got to his feet. “You may cover yourself up. We are all done.”
He appeared to be in a rush to leave.
“Tell Mr Ashmore you will need a few more days bedrest, and to keep the wounds cleaned regularly. Mr Cannington will be most pleased.”
“What… Mr Canning—”
And with that he turned, taking his hat, and left.
Hearing the door closing, Byron emerged from the Kitchen. “He’s gone? Was he pleased?”
I nodded. “Err, yes I’m fine.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
I waited for the sound of the door, then sat up. Byron had left for his banking job, and I needed to leave. Knowing where he had left my clothes, I retrieved them and got dressed. The motion was awkward as each stretch and pull came with a wave of pain, but I needed to be free of my confines. Finding a small note pad and ink, I left a small message, taking a moment to appreciate the comfort Byron had afforded me, then left his flat.
Despite the chill, I enjoyed a lungful of air and made my way slowly but steadily in the same direction I had ventured four days earlier. I had only moved a small distance when I heard footsteps behind me. I tried to prepare my sore limbs for another attack.
“Miss? Mr Murphy sent me. I’m here to help you back to the tunnels.” I turned. A stout young man stood nearby. I nodded and he moved forward, and I leaned my weight on his shoulder. We were soon back in the sewers, although my descent on the ladder was especially painful. I asked if there had been any news of my employer having returned to the shop, but he said there had been no sign of him.
After an arduous journey, I emerged at the Ratters’ village. Lucas, Bernard, and Colin ran to me, the latter helping the other young man with my walking.
“Help me get her to Olivia’s,” said Colin.
“Was it another of those demonic creatures?” said Lucas.
I nodded, trying not to use my throat as it was dry.
We pushed through the canvas at Olivia’s hut, and they steered me towards the bed, which I gratefully sat on.
Olivia immediately placed a cup of water in my hand, which I sipped from.
“How did you fight it off?” said Bernard. “You left your armour here.”
“As you can see, I did not do a very good job of it.”
Olivia sat next to me looking at my bandages. “These have been wrapped well.”
“A strange doctor did that. Went by the name of Ho—”
“Hopkins?” said Lucas. He and Bernard shared a quick glance as if confirming something.
Lucas shook his head. “I should have known he would be involved in this somehow.”
“You know him?”
“Unfortunately. When I was younger, he was something of a mentor to me in the dark arts. That was before I realised how dark his heart really was…”
“I also met Lord Cannington. He too had a strange interest in…” I realised that those around me were quiet as if they were in possession of some great secret.
Lucas sat in the chair near the bed. “Tell me, when you were in Cannington’s presence, did you feel anything?”
“I did… it was a kind of numbness. A chill within me.”
Lucas took my hand. “I don’t want you to be alarmed, but I think that was Hades…”
I pulled my hand from his grasp, my heart beating faster. It made complete sense and no sense. Cannington was a mere man. “But… he was no demon or god?”
“When I came back, I told them about the Lord, that there was something off about him, and Grayton Manor,” said Colin.
“Why is any of that important?” I said.
“We wondered why the Lord would be so interested in you,” said Bernard.
“Yeah, his eyes never left you,” said Colin.
Bernard continued. “So I made enquiries, and we discovered a great deal…”
I felt in my bones that what they were saying was true, but I needed proof. “Such as?”
“He made his fortune from mining. His company was famous for finding rare metals, gold, tin, copper where none was found before. And deaths. It is rumoured that thousands died in those mines. At any rate, he became one of the richest men on the planet from his exploits, money which he used to acquire influence with governments around the world, most prominently the British one. And then there’s the foundation he started. The ‘Awakening Society’—”
“But the foundation does so much good?” It was a genuine question.
“They have been buying up all of the workhouses in London, hostels, and building more,” said Lucas.
“How is that bad?” I asked.
Lucas’s face grew even more grave. “It depends upon what is happening within those institutions.”
My mind returned to the screaming we heard on visiting Finlay. I shivered.
“But still… none of this is direct proof of anything. Even if you are right, how can we act without—” I noticed a number of glum faces around me. “What?”
“After he left, I got some of the Ratters to follow him, Cog,” said Colin. “And… they followed him right to the Whitechapel Workhouse…”
I felt as if I was falling.
“And then there’s your friend, Mr Ashmore…” said Lucas.
Falling deeper.
“Yes? He is a good man. He dislikes Cannington, I’m sure he is not caught up in any of this.”
“That may well be true, Cog, but your strange behaviour in regard to this young man, at first, I thought it was just attraction, but once Colin informed me of the Lord’s visit to Byron, and once we realised who Cannington might be, and the date of the young man’s birthday…”
I crashed into a realisation which hit me harder than the demonic woman from days before. “Oh… Byron is one of the seven…”
*****
I sat, twenty feet up on one of the many ledges, and looked down on the Ratters’ small village. Too many revelations led to me leaving Olivia’s tent and awkwardly making my way up high to be alone. Colin ran out after me, but then fell back on me telling him I needed time. Since then he spied on me, thinking I wasn’t seeing what he was up to.
I watched the Ratters go about their business, fetching water from a clean
intake in one of the nearby tunnels, while others arrived, ferrying food in from the surface. Some sat and talked while others played games. It had been many years since I had seen something similar, but I had never seen such paupers enjoying their existence as they were.
Seeing their contentment helped, but my thoughts were still a whirlpool of disparate images and ideas, and I felt as disconnected from the people below as I did from the person I was just a few weeks before. I doubted every flicker of emotion, not being sure what was real or who was real.
I thought back to the time I had spent with Byron. I felt sure he was not happy with Lord Cannington’s arrival. Did he know of Cannington’s true nature? It was a thought which jarred with my experience of the time I had spent with him.
I saw Lucas leave one of the huts and walk towards me.
“How you feeling?” he shouted up.
“Confused.”
He smiled. “That’s understandable. You remember I said we needed allies?”
I nodded.
“You feel like going to meet someone who might become one?”
I started to climb down.
An hour later myself, Lucas, Estelle, and Colin were still wandering the tunnels, and I was sure the sun had now moved below the horizon.
“How much further?” I said breathlessly. Before we left I had persuaded my sore limbs to climb into my suit of armour. I wasn’t going to be caught outside without it again despite the extra weight.
“We should rest,” said Colin.
Lucas nodded in agreement.
“I hope these people are worth the effort,” said Estelle.
“Person,” said Lucas.
I leaned back against the damp brick. “Who are they anyway.”
“A… man I helped years ago. They owe me.”
“That means they will help against Hades?” said Colin.
“They owe me,” repeated Lucas.
“What’s their name?” I asked.
“Arges.”
After some water, we pressed on. I had been checking my compass and was aware that we had held a steady due northwest direction. Finally, after an hour, and with every part of me regretting the decision to go on this trip, Lucas said we had arrived at the point where we needed to ascend to the surface.