by Jeff Young
Roderic.”
“Wouldn’t the horses be faster?” asked Kassandra as Bremstrung reached back for his rifle.
“The horses do not have a door that locks,” was his terse reply as he turned to the door.
“Is no one going to tell me what on earth is going on here?” asked Roderic standing behind them with his arms crossed.
Bremstrung turned and said, “No!” Then he relented and added, “Follow us and we have a good chance of saving your life. Otherwise I cannot make promises.” He pulled open the door and grasping the magistrate’s lapels pulled him within.
Cornwell’s eyes darted about the room, “What on earth happened here?”
“It does not matter. Listen to me sir; we need to get Roderic to safety. To do that, we will need a distraction and you shall serve admirably. Magistrate, I need you to rouse the men below and tell them that you heard shots. You must tell them that you believe Roderic has been wounded. Once they discover that we are no longer in the room, keep them searching the lodge as long as possible. Can you do this?” Bremstrung asked, his hands on the magistrate’s broad shoulders.
“Why of course,” was Cornwell’s reply, which was cut off by Bremstrung, pushing the man ahead of him into the hallway.
A moment later they were rushing down the servants stairwell and out through the storm cellar doors into the night. The moonlight was muted by the tall shapes of the hemlocks making them stumble in the darkness until Kassandra saw Bremstrung’s outstretched hand happen upon the wall of the stable. He swiftly ushered them within. Kicking about in the straw, she found her way to the rear of the steam lorry. She withdrew her hand with a gasp of pain. “We’re fortunate. It appears they’ve only banked the coals, instead of emptying the pan. We should be able to get the steam going quickly.”
“So you know how to drive one of these vehicles? Why that’s quite fascinating,” nattered Roderic as he came to her side.
“How hard can it be?” she answered, placing a hand to his shoulder and shoving him toward Bremstrung. Taking the opportunity as it came, the German used the momentum to swing Roderic up into the backseat. Bremstrung clambered up to sit behind the steering wheel and then hesitated. Kassandra turned back to the coal furnace and stirred the embers to life and then tossed on more lumps. Walking around the front of vehicle, she joined Bremstrung in the carriage. “Well?” she asked.
“I will remind you that you are the one who made the comment about the difficulty of driving this contrivance.”
“Really.” Kassandra leaned forward and after tapping at a gauge, she grasped a lever near Bremstrung’s knee. Pushing the caliper at its top closed, the lorry lurched ahead and a broad grin spread across her face. But her happiness was short lived as Saul stepped from the darkness with a shining fox at his side.
Bremstrung did not hesitate a moment. He shoved the lever down and the machine sped forward. Never giving Saul a chance, Bremstrung twisted the wheel and rode the man down. A look of horror past over Saul’s features and then the lorry bore him under with a sickening crunch. Kassandra watched the fox dance daintily to the side and then turn to pursue them. Clearing the doorway of the stable, the vehicle made rapid progress toward the gate with the fox bounding along as well. Looking away from the roadway, Bremstrung shouted, “Rifle,” over his shoulder at Roderic. Kassandra watched the young royal fumble with the large weapon. Bremstrung then turned to her and snapped, “Wheel.”
She looked at him and then the wheel and said in a panicked voice, “You are mad.”
Not giving her a chance, he let go of the steering device and reached for the rifle. The window slid down and Bremstrung shoved the barrel out. Fumbling with the lenses, he brought up the gun. Kassandra spared him only a momentary glance as she struggled to keep the lorry on the ruts of the roadway. Cresting high on the one turn, the lorry jumped and Bremstrung cursed something long and complicated in German. “Keep it steady!” he growled re-aiming. Looking back, Kassandra saw the fox gaining on the carriage. Then the rifle spoke, the interior of the lorry ringing with the sound. A blaze of copper lit by moonlight spun off into the woods, various parts of the automaton scattering across the roadway as the fox came to an abrupt end.
Roderic turned to them with a grin, “Safe at last!”
Kassandra watched Bremstrung toss the rifle over his shoulder into Roderic’s lap and reach to regain the wheel. She did not share Roderic’s relief. There was something bothering her and now that she wasn’t half in Bremstrung’s lap attempting to keep the lorry moving in a controlled fashion, she could spare some consideration. Why had she seen three heads over the first fox and only one on the remains of the broken one at the lodge? Perhaps she wasn’t just seeing just the ghost of the dog, but rather a premonition. She drew in a deep breath in apprehension. “Lock the door and shut the window. Do it now!” In the moment’s hesitation from both of the men, she heard a ripping sound and the leather top of the lorry parted as copper claws showed through.
Reaching over and pulling on the lever by Bremstrung’s knee, Kassandra heard a blast of steam whistle through the exhaust pipes that jutted upward from the rear of the vehicle. A moment later Bremstrung tramped a peddle on the floor and the vehicle skidded to a stop. The mechanical fox came rolling across the top of the lorry to come to a stop hanging in front of the glass windscreen with one paw still caught in the rooftop. The jaws snapped at the window and the claws squealed across the glass.
Kassandra was somewhat surprised by the behavior until she realized that the fox’s eyes were covered in condensation from the blast of steam. “It can’t see,” she cried.
That was the only invitation Bremstrung needed. He stood part way up in the seat, pulling out his pistol. With his left arm he battered at the leather roof until it gave. Forcing his way out of the top, he leaned forward and rapped the pistol once on the windscreen. The head of the fox whipped around and Bremstrung shoved the barrel between its eyes into the copper fur and pulled the trigger. The bullet passed through the head and into the body as cogs, springs and metal fur exploded into the night to land pinging and bouncing across the front hood of the vehicle.
Kassandra sat back with a sigh. When she glanced over her shoulder, she found Roderic clutching the rifle to him shivering. Bremstrung pulled himself back through the rent in the roof and sat down heavily. “That should be all of them,” Kassandra offered sitting up a little straighter.
“Well that was plenty. I suppose we could go back to the lodge.” Bremstrung said brushing bits of copper fur from his coat.
“I, for one, am quite through with anything that has to do with foxes for awhile,” stated Roderic.
Kassandra found it the first sound piece of conversation that he’d offered. When Bremstrung looked at her, she nodded her head in the direction of the road. Without another word, he drove the vehicle into the night, the moonlight occasionally playing over his features as it pierced the shredded roof.
***
Sitting in her father’s garden and considering her future, Kassandra’s gaze lingered over the missive that had recently arrived for her. It bore no other marking than her name. When she unfolded its intricate design she discovered a few lines in a refined hand.
My Dear Madam Leyden,
Many thanks for your efforts on behalf of my recent endeavors. Whilst the experiment was not a complete success, you were beneficial in determining its weaknesses. If you should ever require any future assistance, do not hesitate to seek me out.
ER
Of course a master would not sully his fine boots while performing the unpleasant tasking of slaughtering the dogs to gain their ghosts. He would borrow his protégé’s old and soiled ones. The letter fluttered from her suddenly lax fingers to land upon the ground.
###
(Follow the further adventures of Kassandra Leyden in “Drinking Down Death” available now in the anthology In An Ir
on Cage: The Magic of Steampunk. Coming soon, the collection Clockwork Chaos will include the third story “Ambergris on Ice”. Master Bremstrung will return with Kassandra, et al in the extended work The Emancipation of Maxwell’s Ghosts.)
Connect with the author on Facebook
