by Chris Paton
The djinni writhed on the ground, its skin paled with each scream of pain. Hari pressed the djinnlight into his chest and trembled as the tattoo absorbed the energy. He placed his hand upon Najma's shoulder as she cranked the charging handle.
“It is over,” he said and squeezed Najma's shoulder.
“No,” she said and shrugged free of Hari's grip. “It is not.”
“Najma.”
“Leave me be, Nightjar, and let me finish this.”
“No,” said Hari. He jogged to stand in front of Najma, placing himself between her and the djinni. “You have shot me before. Will you shoot me again?”
“Stand aside, Nightjar. Let me finish the djinni.”
“He is finished,” said Hari and gestured at the djinni's pale body as he returned to his emaciated human form. “He is weak, like the girl. There is no fight left in him.”
“Then why were there so many stones piled on the djinn pit? The villagers were frightened of them. They are powerful. They must be stopped.”
“Perhaps they were powerful, once. But no longer, Najma. Show mercy.”
“I don't know,” Najma said. The Jezail trembled in her grasp as the adrenalin coursing through her body cooled.
“Save your shot,” said Hari. He looked up and squinted for signs of the battle of djinn he was certain raged above them. “You may yet need it.”
Chapter 9
Hamburg Dockyard
The German Confederation
July, 1851
The great iron wheels of The Tanfana, the most powerful steam train the German Confederation possessed, squealed on the tracks as the driver shunted the engine into the dockyard siding shed. Wallendorf's men bustled about the cab and cars, loading supplies for the journey north and unloading tents and field hospital equipment to care for the survivors, demon and human, being dragged from the sea. The Tanfana's steam whistle blew with a shrill blast that caused a tremble of excitement among the men and women as they hurried to finish their work. The second blast of the whistle captured Luise's imagination and caused a flutter of excitement that, in the moment, quelled the pain in her abdomen. She reached for Emilia's hand and lifted it to point at the engineering car towards the middle of the train as the men pushed Kettlepot to the door on an iron gurney. In an open car towards the back of the train, Wallendorf soldiers stood to attention as the emissary controllers directed twenty brass emissaries to stand three abreast in the car. A second open car with the same number of emissaries waited on a side track to be coupled to the train as the guard car, bristling with cannons, was uncoupled and dragged to the rear by a mammoth walker.
Luise held Emilia's hand as they walked past the cab of The Tanfana, and on to the first of three passenger cars. Wallendorf's troops and engineers occupied the two cars behind Luise's. After a quick count, Luise confirmed that once the guard car was attached, The Tanfana pulled a total of seven cars behind the great engine and an equally impressive coal car.
“There's only one engine bigger than The Tanfana,” said a familiar voice from behind Luise. She turned to see Admiral Reginald Egmont as he hobbled alongside the engine on his steam-powered prosthetic. Luise thought he looked tired.
“Admiral,” she said and let go of Emilia to give the old man a hug.
“You're well, I trust?” he said as he held Luise in a protective embrace.
“The doctor has helped me to stem the flow of blood, and I expect he will be joining us on the journey north once he is finished transporting Romney Wallendorf to hospital.”
“Yes,” said Egmont. He gave Luise a last squeeze and let go. “Terrible business. But did you get what you needed?”
“A name? Yes. We are looking for a man called Abraxas.”
“A man or a demon?”
“Both, I imagine.”
“Very well. And who is this?” Egmont leaned to one side to look at Emilia.
“Ah,” Luise said and beckoned Emilia forwards. “This is Emilia Ardelean. A very promising young maker, I believe.”
“How do you do,” said Emilia. She bent her right leg behind her left and dipped her knee in what looked like a very rusty curtsey.
“Proper manners, eh? I like you, young lady. But, Luise,” Egmont said and lowered his voice. “You're not planning to take this child to Arkhangelsk, are you?”
“Actually, yes, I am,” she said and patted Egmont's arm. “You needn't worry about her safety, Admiral. She has a bodyguard like no other.” Luise leaned close and whispered in the Admiral's ear, “A sentient emissary.”
“Sentient?”
“I believe so.”
“All the same,” he said. “I can't say I approve.”
“Then you will just have to keep an eye on her. Won't you?”
“Ah,” Egmont said and shuffled away from the train. He nodded for Luise to join him.
“I'll be a moment, Emilia,” she said and pointed at the passenger car. “You'll find me onboard a little later. I want you to tell me all about the Şteamƙin as we travel north.”
Emilia smiled and curtsied again before running along the train to the engineering car. Luise watched her go and then joined the Admiral as he walked towards the dock.
“Smith sends his regards. As soon as we had things organised on The Tanfana, he wanted to get to the hospital as soon as possible to see the demon, Wallendorf's daughter.”
“I understand.”
“He and I, we,” said Egmont with a sigh. “Well, we are getting a little old in the tooth for campaigning, Luise.”
“Nonsense.”
“That's kind of you, but I must admit to having exhausted myself swinging through the rigging and climbing up and down the ladders on The Amphitrite. As exciting as it was, I am just not forty anymore, my dear. And I think you will admit that we have been quite busy these past few months.”
“Yes,” Luise said as she slipped her arm around the Admiral's. “It has been quite a ride.” She stopped and held her breath as a spasm of pain gripped her stomach. She smiled and continued walking. “I am all right. You must believe me,” she said as a deep frown wrinkled Egmont's brow.
“I am not sure I do, but I trust you to look after yourself. Now,” he said. “I want you to be careful among our new allies. I have never liked rapid alliances. They tend to be a tenuous affair, complicated by a conflict of interests. However, I have Schleiermacher's word that this young German woman...”
“Hannah von Ense.”
“Yes, her,” Egmont said and continued. “She is very competent, and loyal to the Confederation. But not to the crown,” he added. “Although, I will also admit to having some unfinished business on that account, myself.” He waved his hand as Luise gave him a questioning look. “Never mind. I have the matter under control. But Smith and I, we want you to take care on this adventure, and leave the heavy stuff to the troops and their emissaries. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Admiral,” Luise said as she worked hard to contain a smile.
“I mean it, Luise. No reckless sorties inside the city before it has been declared safe. And,” he continued, “on no account do I want you to be influenced by that Singh fellow.”
“Hari?” said Luise and gripped the Admiral's arm. “Has there been word from Noonan?”
“Yes, he managed to get a telegram to Smith. The Amphitrite picked up Hari and flew him to Afghanistan. He landed safely, just as Smith believed he would. Really, that man has more lives than a cat,” Egmont said, but Luise had long since stopped listening.
Hari is alive, she said to herself, and all of a sudden, the pain in her side seemed to fade, as the excitement in her chest competed with the thumping of her heart.
“The last word from Noonan mentioned that Hari was looking for your brother.”
“Jamie?” Luise said as the mention of her brother caused another wave of emotion to flood through her body. “But I thought he was as good as dead?”
“No, not quite. But I think it best that Singh tell you more about it. I
confess that I do not fully understand what I have been told, although it would appear that young Jamie did in fact complete his mission, and cleared up a lot of questions about Trafalgar. That's another reason I must return to England – more unfinished business.”
Luise's thoughts cascaded through her mind. The beat of her heart pulsed through her body, echoing each new thought with a strong, deafening thump. Hari and Jamie together. The image swirled before her eyes. In Afghanistan.
“...on their way west to Russia, I believe.”
“What?” said Luise. “I beg your pardon, Admiral. I...”
“It's quite all right, my dear. There is much to take in.”
“Yes.”
As they walked out of the siding shed, the Admiral led Luise along the dockside where the last of the boats was tying up at the wooden jetty. Neither of them talked as they watched Wallendorf's men help the survivors out of the boat and arrange the dead in lines to be retrieved as soon as a cart was available. None of the survivors appeared to be demonic, and Luise wondered if the energy the demons had used to create the shield had sapped them of the strength to swim? Either way, she mused, it is perhaps for the best. What would we do with them?
Egmont stopped by a bench and they sat down. Luise waited quietly as the Admiral fiddled with his prosthetic as he often did before saying something he found difficult.
“Damn yard-arm,” he said. What will I do when you're away? Who is going to fix it?”
“You must have it serviced, and then I will see to it when I come back to England.”
“Yes,” said Egmont. He stared out to sea for several minutes before turning to Luise and taking her soft hand in his own weathered and wrinkled one. “I am pleased we talked on The Amphitrite, and that I told you about my feelings for your mother, and the time I spent with her.”
“So am I,” said Luise. “But that is not what troubles you Admiral. Is it?”
“No, it is not.”
“Then you had better just say it. The Tanfana was all but loaded when we walked away from the siding shed, and Khronos has a head start, and...”
“You can't return to Britain, Luise.”
“What?
“When you have found this fellow Abraxas, and you have stopped Khronos...” Egmont paused. “I admit, that won't be easy, but when you have done all that, you must promise me never to return to Britain.”
“Why ever not?”
“Because of your name.”
“My name?”
“Hanover.”
Luise shifted upon the bench and frowned. “Whatever is the problem with my name?”
“Unfinished business,” Egmont said and sighed. “It will be the death of me, but not you.”
“You are not making any...”
“Sense? There is nothing sensible about it. Britain is on the brink of war with the German Confederation. There are rumblings, at least. And, in an effort to distance herself and her family from any connection with the Germans, the queen ordered me to remove any trace of the name Hanover that could be connected to her. She has, as you know, changed her own name.”
“Smith mentioned this in London. Is this the great secret that has been bothering you, Admiral?” Luise said and laughed. “Oh, to think that is all it is.”
“But it is not all, Luise. I was instructed to remove all trace. It was me that sent your brother to Afghanistan on a potentially suicidal mission. And it was me that was instructed to make sure you didn't survive your encounter with the demons in London.”
Luise let go of the Admiral's hand. She clasped her hands together in her lap and stared at him. “Are you saying the queen ordered you to kill me, Admiral?”
“Yes,” he said. “That's exactly what I am saying. And that is why, when you find Hari in Russia, I want you to stay with him, and I want you to disappear, Luise. Forever.”
Luise stood up and took a step towards the dockside. She looked down at the dead below her and turned to face Egmont.
“So this is goodbye?” she said as the first tear ran down her cheek.
“Yes,” said Egmont. “Our last goodbye.”
Chapter 10
The Great Southern Plain
Arkhangelsk Oblast
July, 1851
The mist hung over the Laya River and reminded Stepan of gunpowder clouds. It clung to his jacket in tiny beads as he drank black tea from a tin mug. The thick crust of bread in his hand sagged beneath the slab of salted pork. There was no butter, but Stepan chose not to complain when the cook had spread the fat of the pig over the bread with a broad-bladed knife. If this was how the Cossacks had started every morning of the campaign, Stepan thought, it is little wonder it dragged on for as long as it did. He took another bite, chewed and washed it down with a slurp of tea.
The Cossacks around him stirred at the sound of a horse on the far side of the river. The rapid beating of its hooves upon the ground suggested an urgency that encouraged one of the men to wake Ivan and Lena. Stepan smiled at Ivan's belligerent response to being woken, and he added a few more choice words to his personal Cossack dictionary. Ivan staggered from the campfire to the breakfast table and grunted as someone pressed a mug of tea into his hand. He took a long draught, slapped the mug into the man's hand and walked down to river bank. Stepan and a small group of Cossacks followed him.
The horse slowed, tossing its head from side to side as it emerged through the mist. The rider slid out of the saddle and let go of the horse's reins. The beast continued down the bank to the river and drank.
“What news?” shouted Ivan.
The rider cupped his hands to his mouth and shouted. “Russian troops are approaching.”
“How many?”
“One company...”
“That's one hundred and ten men,” said Stepan.
“...with four walkers and the rest on horseback.”
Ivan turned from the bank and looked for Stepan among his men. “How many men in a walker?”
“Twenty, perhaps,” Stepan said with a shrug. “They were dismounted when Lena and I met them.”
“And the rest on horses,” Ivan said and wiped the previous night's stupor from his face with a dirty hand. “Fifty horse. Hm,” he grunted.
“There's more,” the scout called from across the river. “Kapitan Bryullov leads the company.”
“Bryullov?” said Ivan and laughed. “Now this is interesting. What do you say to that Stepan Skuratov?”
“Say to what?” said Lena, stifling a yawn as she passed through the men gathered around her father.
“Our friend, Bryullov, has followed our trail,” said Stepan.
“He took his time,” she said and took a mug from the Cossack closest to her.
“How far away?” Ivan asked the scout.
“Bryullov sent a platoon to the east, the south and north. The one that went north will find our camp in an hour or less.”
Ivan yawned and shook his head. He stepped into the river, the water lapping the toes of his leather boots. He crouched and splashed several handfuls of cool water upon his face. As the water dripped through his beard he gave the first orders of the day.
“Mishka, mount up and take your men to meet that northern platoon. Stop them or slow them down while we get organised here.”
“Da, it is done,” said Mishka. He slapped the man next to him on the arm and they ran back to the stockpile of ammunition and weapons to prepare.
“I want a patrol going west and east to stop us being flanked.”
“I'll do that, Ivan,” said the large Cossack standing next to Stepan. He had spent the night watching Stepan become familiar with the long rifle. Stepan was impressed that the man did not yawn once.
“Good, Yurii. Send young Andrei to the west. It will be good for him, and have Kateryna Shkuro lead the patrol to the east.”
“Da,” said Yurii. “Consider it done.”
As Yurii left to organise his patrols, the Cossacks crowding the river waited for further instructio
ns. Ivan ordered the scout to cross the river and eat before turning to the men.
“Our friends have not arrived yet, so we will have to deal with these Russians ourselves,” Ivan said. He grinned as the men cheered. “I will lead, together with my good friend Bohdan,” he said and slapped the small Cossack standing next to him on the back. The man reeled and spilt his tea on the ground. The men laughed and cheered again. “Friends, we have a sniper among us.” Ivan pointed at Stepan. “My daughter will ride with him, and they will make mischief from somewhere high up...”
“Difficult on the plain,” said Lena to Stepan.
“Today marks a new dawn for Cossacks. Today we ride with the Wolf of Arkhangelsk and not against him. May his teeth flash twice as sharp as they did when we saw him last and we were the prey.” Ivan clapped his great hands together and the men hurried from the river to prepare for battle. Ivan strode up the bank and spread his arms wide to grip Lena and Stepan around the shoulders. He steered them towards the activity around the supplies and horses.
“Daughter,” said Ivan. “Keep this man alive. I don't fancy telling the beautiful Anna that her man is dead.”
“Da, father.”
“And Stepan?”
“Yes, Ivan?”
“Watch my daughter. Don't let her do anything foolish. She can be...” Ivan paused as he searched for the right word.
“Impetuous,” said Stepan.
“No, that's not it,” Ivan said and frowned. “Hotheaded, is what I mean.”
Stepan smiled as Ivan let go of his shoulder and gripped his daughter in a powerful embrace. Lena rolled her eyes at Stepan and waited for her father to let go.
“I only have one daughter,” Stepan heard Ivan say. “For once, child, don't do anything stupid. Listen to Skuratov. Do what he says.”
“Father?”
