by John Booth
“Cam, I overheard a conversation you will not believe. But if you carry on talking loudly, we are both going to end up dead.”
Cam sensed Arnold was being serious and shut up. She had been angry at having to put up with Josiah Green for nearly an hour that common sense had momentarily fled. When she finally found an excuse to get away from the annoying Josiah, she had spent a further half hour searching for Arnold. It was only when she remembered his habit of hiding behind curtains at Hobsgate, that she achieved success.
Arnold briefed her succinctly in a low whisper.
“Stay here,” Cam ordered. “I shall check the coast is clear and then we must leave as quietly as possible. Lord McBride and this Blane character must not suspect you have ever been here.”
Cam slid along the wall, pulling her tummy in tight so she did not rustle the tapestry as she moved. A quick glance told her it was safe to move and she slid further along the wall until she was out in the open. Keeping an eye on the crowd, she signaled for Arnold to follow.
With a heartfelt sigh, Arnold made his way behind the tapestry. Cam chose her moment and then reached for Arnold and dragged him out, engaging him in a passionate embrace.
“What if Dougal McBride saw us just then,” Arnold complained as the two of them stood side by side along the wall, “We are supposed to be brother and sister.”
“I expect such things happen in Scotland too,” Cam replied, unperturbed by Arnold’s comment, “Just so long as he didn’t spot you hiding behind the tapestry.”
“And what are we going to do now?”
“We are going to get into that group of people about to dance,” Cam said as she grabbed his hand and started pulling him across the hall. “You need to be seen somewhere away from that alcove to be sure we have allayed any suspicion.”
“I think I preferred the ‘being killed’ option,” Arnold whispered as he resigned himself to joining the dance. Working as a spy out in the field was turning out to be far less fun than he had thought it would be when he joined Military Magic.
35. Daisy & Dougal
“We really should be getting back to the dance,” Daisy pointed out to Dougal. He had taken her away from the hall to show her around the castle, or so he claimed. Daisy soon found he was more interested in touring her body with his hands than pointing out the fifteenth century arches in the kitchen.
“But I haven’t shown you everything yet,” Dougal protested. “There is still the great library and we have one of the biggest collections in the whole of Scotland.”
“My sister and brothers will be worried about me,” Daisy explained. “And you haven’t shown me the dungeons either. I am beginning to suspect that is where you eventually lure innocent lassies like me.”
“I would never do anything to hurt you, Daisy, and I am afraid I cannot show you the dungeons,” Dougal said in a hurt little boy voice.
“Why ever not? Are you holding prisoners down there?” Daisy asked in outrage.
Dougal laughed in delight.
“Nay, it’s nothing like that. My father has his laboratories down in the dungeons and he does not allow visitors to go down there. He says it is far too dangerous.”
Daisy pouted at Dougal and feigned looking upset. “I am sure you could show me if you really wanted. A hidden laboratory deep down in a castle’s dungeons, why it makes me feel all of a tingle just to think of it.”
Daisy grabbed Dougal’s arm and pressed her body close to his, making sure her breasts were pushed hard against him. “Please let me look at the dungeons Dougal. I would be ever so grateful if you did.”
“You must promise never to say anything of it to anybody,” Dougal said, clearly wavering. He was thankful that the size of his sporran concealed his reaction to being so close to Daisy. “The Laird must never know you have been there.”
“I would never betray you, Dougal. Surely you must know that?” Daisy remonstrated with him and batted her eyelids innocently. “A woman would never betray the man she truly cares about.”
Dougal gulped for air as Daisy pressed her bosoms higher up his chest by stretching up on the tips of her toes.
“Let us go quickly then,” he told her. Daisy held onto his hand as Dougal led her through the castle at very close to a run.
“Where you got these adult spies ‘idden, Tricky,” Alice asked as she looked around the crowded hall. It was bad enough seeing Ebb and Tricky wearing skirts, but seeing so many men wearing them was causing an outbreak of curiosity in Alice. She was pondering the age-old question of what might lie beneath and Alice was not the kind of girl who would let a question like that remain unanswered.
Tricky looked around the hall and could see no sign of Cam, Daisy or Arnold. This was not too surprising, given the number of people crowded into the hall.
“Dunno, I ‘spect they’re around somewhere,” he said after checking a second time.
Lucy and Ebb sat together higher up the spiral of the staircase. As soon as Lucy discovered that Ebb was a Precog, she had wanted to get him alone to talk about their shared gift.
“No, not like you,” Ebb replied before she could utter a word. “I see a few seconds ahead, only all the time.”
“That must be very strange for you,” Lucy replied in a Welsh lilt that made Ebb smile. It was the second time he had heard it and he thought it delightful. “I see things all the time, while I’m awake. Most Precogs have to dream them.”
“Lord McBride collects the strange ones. Thank you,” Ebb said before Lucy could tell him that he wasn’t strange. She smiled as an understanding of what he was doing came to her.
“I’m thirteen, older than Edith, though she looks older than me,” Lucy said shyly.
“I’ll be eleven just after Christmas,” Ebb admitted.
Lucy looked down the stairs at Edith and Gwendolyn, who were engaged in an animated discussion with Tricky and Alice.
“Gwendolyn’s a Reader and you know how rare they are. It is hard for her to stay in such an old castle.”
“Huh?”
“She touches a wall and sees someone being stabbed a century ago. She looks out of the window and sees a body swinging from a gibbet or hears a girl screaming as she is burnt at the stake. All that swagger of hers and the violence, it is an act to protect herself. She see’s such terrible things.”
“What ‘ave you seen?” Ebb asked quietly. Lucy took his hand in hers, which is the reason he dared to ask the question and they sat without speaking for some time. Then Ebb squeezed her fingers in shock at hearing her answer, triggering her into answering him.
“I have seen the end of the world.”
Tom watched very carefully as two young Scots couples gave a demonstration of the dance he was about to perform. They had lined up in rows, women on one side, men on the other. Laura stood immediately opposite him watching the demonstration with the same grim determination he had. Neither of them wanted to look foolish in front of all these people.
The dance involved the men and women prancing into the gap between them in time to the music and then twirling each other around in a tight embrace. After two turns the men bowed, the women curtseyed and then they swapped places with the person next to them. This left them facing a different partner.
“We have an odd number of couples in the dance, so everybody gets to dance with everybody else,” one of the dancers explained. “Well with all the members of the opposite sex. We had a couple got confused once and men found themselves dancing with men and women with women. It led to quite a fight, let me tell you.”
Everybody laughed dutifully.
“When you find yourself dancing with your original partner the dance comes to an end and we let the next lot of couples have a go. Are you all ready then?”
A cheer of sorts went up from all the dancers in the line while a few catcalls came from those waiting their turn. The musicians started up and Tom stumbled out into the centre only a single step behind the others.
“Chin up, Thomas Merlin C
arter,” Laura told him as he twirled around with her. “And do try to avoid standing on the girl’s feet. They will not have you around to heal their bruised toes later.”
Three girls later, Tom started to get the hang of it and was beginning to enjoy himself. He was no longer having to listen to swearing as he danced onto girls toes. Two girls further down the line, he found himself dancing with Camilla Burns.
“Do pick your chin up from the floor, Carter. People will think you are drooling over my breasts,” Cam said cheerfully.
Tom stared at her in astonishment.
“How? What?”
“Come to rescue you of course. We’ve chased you all the way up the British Isles.”
Then Cam was gone and Tom had to work hard to avoid standing on the next girl’s feet.
Arnold had his eyes firmly on the dance floor, watching the girl’s feet and his own. He was surprised when one of his partners dragged up his head so he was looking into her eyes.
“Camilla has to be around here somewhere,” Laura told him, her eyes twinkling with delight.
“What makes you say that?”
“Because no one but her could have persuaded you to wear a skirt.”
“It’s called a kilt,” Arnold shouted after her, but Laura had already danced away.
Tom found he was twirling Laura again, much to his relief.
“Cam,” he said simply, too exhausted to get more than a word out.
“Arnold too,” Laura said as she pulled him close to her and kissed him firmly on the lips. The music stopped as the other couples bowed to each other. There was a deal of ribald laughter around Tom and Laura as they continued to kiss. Laura had to come up for air eventually and she reluctantly let Tom go.
The dancers left the floor and headed towards the food and drink while the next group of dancers organized themselves on the dance floor. Tom and Laura knew better than to rush over to their friends, while Cam and Arnold strolled equally indifferently across to the nearest table.
“That was quite a dance, I fear I am glowing from it,” Cam said rather loudly. She stood with her back to Tom and Laura.
“But very enjoyable, I found,” Laura replied. Cam turned around at the sound of her voice.
“You were dancing with us just now?” Cam asked innocently.
“She certainly was,” Arnold cut in, “I never forget a pretty face.”
Cam gave Arnold a severe look.
“You must forgive my brother, Arnold. He rarely waits to be introduced when there is a beautiful woman present. My name is Camilla Smith, though everybody calls me Cam.”
“May I present Laura Young,” Tom responded smoothly. “My name is Tom Carter and we are currently the guests of Lord McBride.”
“Indeed you are, laddie,” Lord McBride said from behind him. “It is good to see you mingling with the other guests. I told you the dance would be well within your capabilities.”
“Only two of the girls involved are seeking medical attention,” Blane said dryly, appearing at his Laird’s side as if by magic. “I had not realized that Healers drummed up their own business.”
“Good evening, my lord,” Arnold interrupted hesitantly. “I joined your workforce today, bringing my two sisters and two young brothers with me.”
“Arnold is now the breadwinner of the family, our mother dying suddenly of a broken heart, less than a month ago,” Cam explained.
“I’m so sorry to hear that. What brought on her sad condition?” Lord McBride enquired solicitously.
“Father was killed while fighting for Her Majesty in the Crimea. Florence Nightingale herself nursed him, but to no avail,” Cam said. Laura blinked and Tom worked hard to suppress a laugh. Cam could never resist embellishing a story. “My brother Arnold had just completed his first class honors degree in engineering at Cambridge University…”
Cam did not finish her sentence as Tom dropped his tankard on hearing her spout such outrageous nonsense. The girls scattered as beer splashed everywhere.
“I’m so sorry, my hand is still trembling from the exertions of the dance,” Tom said hurriedly. He glared at Cam as he spoke.
“First class honors, you say?” Lord McBride said thoughtfully. “We have been looking for a man of your caliber. I’m surprised my staff did not bring your papers to my attention.”
“That is because we saw no such papers,” Blane said smoothly, “Which I must say I find very strange.”
“We were recruited by Angus McKinnon,” Cam said before the situation could get out of hand. “Your son said he was prone to forget to post them.”
“He never forgets to collect his wages on time,” Blane said dryly, “But he is remiss with his paperwork on occasion. Do forgive my overly suspicious nature.”
“Never mind all that,” Lord McBride said impatiently. “Arnold Smith you said your name was?”
Arnold nodded.
“Report to my laboratory at nine o’clock sharp, tomorrow morning. Any of the staff in the castle will tell you how to find it. Gordon has been moaning at me to find a qualified assistant. I think you’ll do just fine.”
“Thank you, my lord,” Arnold said formally and bowed. He planned to say some choice words to Cam when he got the chance, but now was not the time.
Lord McBride nodded in return and strode away from them, with Blane following a short distance behind him.
“You said you had sisters and brothers with you?” Laura asked politely.
“My sister Daisy is off with Lord McBride’s son, Dougal, even as we speak,” Cam told them, “I am hoping they have not become smitten with each other.”
“I am sure that Daisy is far too sensible to do any such thing,” Laura replied, smiling at Cam.
“We also have our two younger brothers with us, Ebenezer and Tricky.”
Cam stepped back quickly from Tom who had another full tankard of ale in his hand. Tom grinned at her and wiggled the tankard from side to side, showing Cam he could only be caught out once by her unexpected revelations. Unfortunately, in the process he managed to splash ale down his hand, causing him to curse.
“You do seem to have had an industrious father,” Laura commented.
“Mother and father visited Crouch End for a time and they were the result,” Cam replied.
“Does the rest of your family know your brother has taken this job?” Tom asked. He had visions of Trelawney waiting with the cavalry only a short distance away.
“We meant to tell Uncle Ernest, but his son James has a way of spoiling things,” Cam told them. “So we thought it best to come here first and inform him later.”
Tom hid his disappointment at the news. Still, it hardly mattered. With Arnold, Daisy and Cam as support, getting out of the castle and escaping should be easy.
“It would be nice to get away for a holiday,” he said carefully.
“Not possible, I’m afraid. The work here has become far too important.” Cam shook her head. She looked at the clock that hung at one end of the wall and saw it was a couple of minutes past midnight. Perhaps she was wrong. If the bomb had not worked, they could escape with Tom and Laura, and have Lord McBride arrested later.
A flash of light lit up the hall bright as day. Conversation halted as everyone stared out of the windows wondering what had caused the amazing burst of light. Conversation had just begun to start up again when a bang louder than any cannon or thunderclap shook the hall, followed immediately afterwards by a powerful rushing wind.
Several of the Laird’s staff rushed to close doors as a gale struck around them. The castle was buffeted for over a minute before the wind died down as quickly as it had started.
“You see what I mean,” Cam said in a whisper as she nodded towards the windows. “We have to stay or the next time that will be London.”
36. Hellfire
“Did you note the time?” Lord McBride asked Blane. McBride’s face was flushed with excitement and his eyes were bright.
“The flash occurred at six minutes
past midnight, Laird,” Blane told him. “I suspect our little Dutchman’s watch was slow when he set the timer.”
“Nay man!” Lord McBride said angrily. “I meant the time between the flash and the blast.”
“Ah, that time,” Blane replied knowingly. “That particular time was one hundred and seventy three seconds precisely.”
“About thirty three miles away,” Lord McBride said contemplatively. “That would be almost exactly correct.”
“So it would seem. I dare say that those in Inverness probably lost a few walls and maybe the odd rickety buildings. I wonder if any living in Forres or Nairn survived.”
“There are always casualties in war,” Lord McBride said brusquely. “Their relatives will thank me when the British Empire is under Scottish control. Besides which, they should have survived. Hans assured me that the destructive force of the bomb would be survivable at less than five miles.”
“It is amazing the damage that one little European with a silly moustache can do,” Blane informed his laird. “You must dispatch him upon his return, Laird. We cannot risk such dangerous knowledge falling into the wrong hands.”
“You worry far too much, Blane. I will get rid of the man when he has completed the second bomb and not before. He is the only man who can be certain of its making.”
“Aye, you may well be right,” Blane conceded, though he looked unhappy at the delay.
Daisy was down in the dungeons when the vibrations from the blast caught her and Dougal by surprise. He had just placed his first kiss upon her lips.
“They say the Earth moves when a man does that, but I must admit I was not expecting it to shake the lamps as well,” Daisy said as she pulled sharply away.
“It must have been an earthquake,” Dougal replied. “Though there has not been one in Scotland since my grandfather’s time.”
“Let us return to the dance, Dougal. I am suddenly feeling vulnerable with these tons of ancient stone wobbling above my head.”
