Turncoat

by Deborah Chester

  “Yes—”

  “Nonsense. The lieutenant is very ill. And you will be too if you are not quiet.” She gave him a severe look. “I’m out of patience with you, coming here like this, when I’ve got quite enough on my hands already.”

  “Peterson—”

  Her busy hands stilled and she looked away. “I’m afraid he’s dead.”

  “Oh.”

  “We’ll bury him tomorrow when the ground has softened again. It’ll be as Christian and as decent as we can make it. If only it had happened sooner, then no one in town need have known he was ever here.”

  Noel frowned. “Poor devil.”

  “Do not criticize,” she said angrily. “I am doing the best I can.”

  “Are you?”

  “Major Burton was here for dinner tonight, and me with a traitor lying upstairs. It was enough to drive me mad. I tried to cry off and cancel the invitation, but Dr. Selincourt couldn’t run fast enough back to town with his suspicions, and now—and now—”

  A tremor entered her voice and she sat staring into space while her fingers pleated knots in her dress.

  “And now you’re suspect,” said Noel. “Because I brought him here. I shouldn’t have interfered, but two against one was unfair. And he died anyway. I’m sorry.”

  Her lips started to tremble. “I thought the major truly cared—but it’s only been a flirtation, a trifle to him. He said—” With difficulty she bit back the rest of her sentence. “It doesn’t matter.”

  “Yes, it does,” said Noel. Her distress was so strong he couldn’t help but feel sorry for her. “I know I’m a stranger, but Robert trusts me. You can too.”

  She tossed her head. “And I suppose for no other reason than your fine gray eyes?”

  Then she blushed at what she had said.

  Noel had to grin a little. “Why not? No, I really wouldn’t betray you. And you are in trouble, aren’t you, Miss Crewe?”

  Her eyes went to his and she looked as though she would confide in him, then she drew back and tightened her mouth. “It is only a—a misunderstanding. It will clear up by and by. If—if only you hadn’t come, sir, now of all times! I fear he may decide to have the house watched, and with the ball already planned, I—” She gave her head a little shake. “Forgive me. I can be making little sense. I am not myself.”

  “I wish you’d tell me what really happened.”

  “You could not help me, sir. I would rather hear what has occurred between you and the lieutenant.”

  Noel went off into a fit of violent coughing that left him spent for breath.

  “There, your lungs are affected already. I shan’t ask why you didn’t take the bridge. It’s plain you have tried to kidnap Lieutenant Nardek.”

  “Is it now?” said Noel with annoyance.

  “Oh, Robert told me your tale. Only no one could believe such poppycock.”

  “I must take him home.”

  “Honorable men bearing urgent messages from home would go to the lieutenant’s commanding officer, which you did not.”

  “No?”

  “No,” she said coolly. “I asked the major this evening, and he was completely taken by surprise. He said as far as he knew the lieutenant’s only brother was dead.”

  Noel narrowed his eyes. “Not quite.”

  “Well, if you’ve been cast off by your family, I suppose they might prefer to think you dead,” she said matter-of-factly.

  “I’m not a black sheep!”

  “Keep quiet. You will bring on another coughing fit if you yell.”

  Noel turned his head away from her, fuming. If she was trying to distract him from her problems, she’d succeeded. He could care less what trouble she was in.

  “Robert said that you’ve hurt your hand. Let me see it, please.”

  “It’s fine,” said Noel.

  “I doubt that.”

  He glared at her. “Thanks, but it’s fine.”

  “Are you a liar as well as a scoundrel and a kidnapper? Give me your hand.” She met his gaze and a hint of a smile quivered suddenly at the corner of her mouth. “Come, sir. Don’t be such a baby about it. I am sure it does need attention.”

  Wincing, he reluctantly drew his left hand from beneath the covers.

  She gasped when she saw it. “This is very badly burned. How came you by such an injury? Robert said the two of you must have been in a fight, but I do not think so. And this ring must have you in agony.”

  “Don’t touch it!” said Noel so sharply he startled her.

  She stared at him, her blue eyes very wide.

  By candlelight his hand looked terrible. Streaked with black, the skin across the back and the palm was red and puffy. His fingers were a blistered mess. Seeing it clearly for the first time made it hurt worse.

  “It—it must be washed and some ointment and bandages applied,” she said softly.

  He drew back involuntarily. “I’d rather leave it for now.”

  “Absolutely not. You cannot go without care. You’ll lose that hand if an infection gets to it.”

  All he needed was to reenter the time stream, and his hurts would be healed, but he couldn’t tell her that. Besides, the very thought of trying to activate the LOC again made him feel weak.

  “You’re tired,” she said, touching his shoulder gently. “You need to rest, sir. But indeed let me do what I can for you first. I know it will hurt dreadfully, but I am a gentle nurse.”

  She was as good as her word, her touch as tender as her tongue was tart. He bit his tongue bloody to keep from yelling, and when she was done he was sweating freely.

  “There,” she said, looking as pale as he felt. “I’m sorry. Would you like some brandy? We’ve used all the laudanum in the house to help poor Peterson—” Her voice caught a little, and she looked very tired and young.

  “Thanks, yes,” said Noel wearily.

  She left the room, and as the door swung closed he thought he heard her crying. In a few minutes, however, she was back with a glass and a brandy bottle. Her eyes were red, but she had washed her face, and seemed her cool, usual self again. She poured him a glass, and while he sipped the fiery liquid, she said, “I’ve been quite wrong, haven’t I? It is you who are the true son, and not the lieutenant.”

  “What’s changed your mind?”

  “The signet you wear. It makes everything clear. I can only apologize for the way I’ve treated you since making your acquaintance this morning. You were so dirty and wild, I thought—But I was mistaken, and I apologize.”

  He couldn’t help glancing at the peg on the back of the door, where Robert had hung his new clothes borrowed from Leon. So a ring and a good wardrobe were all Miss Crewe needed to judge a man’s character? He was suddenly thoroughly sorry for her.

  She was frowning and looked as though she wanted to question him further.

  “I’m tired,” he said.

  She took the hint at once. “Yes, of course. I’ll go and let you sleep.”

  Noel glanced at Leon in the other bed. “Did you drug him? If he wakes up in the night—”

  “You have only to call out, and Robert or I will come,” she said, banking the fire. “Good night, sir.”

  She left, closing the door quietly behind her. Noel frowned for a moment, then threw off the covers and levered himself out of bed. He started shivering again, and his feet were swollen and sore with returning circulation. One-handedly he poured another glass of brandy and tipped it between Leon’s lips.

  “Drink it all, you devil,” he muttered.

  Leon murmured and shifted his head away, but Noel finally managed to get the stuff down him. The brandy would not help Leon’s fever, but if his duplicate couldn’t be tied up, at least let him be drunk. Noel didn’t fancy being attacked in his sleep.

  He searched his clothing for his pistol and put it under his pillow. Spent from his exertions, he climbed back into bed and tried to get warm again. His chest still hurt and he started coughing again. He dosed himself with brandy,
aware that although he’d been packed with all kinds of immunizations and antibacterial agents before he left the Time Institute, pneumonia could still happen. The main thing was to figure out what had gone wrong with the recall sequence. If he could talk to his LOC…but he didn’t dare activate it. No, he would have to reason it out all by himself.

  “Sir! Mr. Kedran!” cried Robert, bursting into the room. “Wake up!”

  Startled awake, Noel sat up with a jerk and pulled out his pistol. “What?” He started coughing.

  “I’m sorry,” said Robert, backing up cautiously and raising his hands. “I didn’t mean to startle you, but—but the redcoats are here!”

  He pointed at the window as he spoke, and Noel crawled across the bed to peer out. He saw a squadron of mounted soldiers and Sally outside arguing with the sergeant in charge of them.

  “Jupiter, won’t she be in a taking,” said Robert worriedly. “I think she cried herself to sleep, for the major has quite turned against her and now we are to be guarded. It’s the most infamous thing.”

  “Robert,” said Noel, coughing, “you had better tell me all you know.”

  The boy frowned, plainly hesitant. “There isn’t time for that. If they come into the house, they may want to search it, and if they find the lieutenant here, we’ll all be in jail.”

  “Aren’t you jumping to conclusions?”

  “Not when the word is about town that he’s been captured by the enemy. A search party went out at dawn, and I heard the major’s in a rare pucker. Lieutenant Nardek’s indispensable to him.”

  “I’m sure,” said Noel, thinking of Leon’s ability to read minds. It would be a handy tool in wartime.

  “We’re already in enough trouble, and if you’re found here, I don’t know what will—”

  “Okay,” said Noel, getting up and reaching one-handedly for his breeches. “We’ll clear out.”

  “Too late for that. We’ve got to hide you in the cellar. For now, anyway. When it gets dark, I’ll try to smuggle you out past them.”

  The idea of spending the whole day confined in a cellar did not appeal to Noel, but Robert looked so frightened he didn’t argue.

  Leon was still unconscious since Noel had dosed him with brandy regularly during the night. Dragging Leon from bed, Noel pulled him upright and slipped one shoulder beneath his arm. Leon sagged against him and muttered something unintelligible. He stank of brandy.

  Robert opened the door. “Down the back stairs, sir, and hurry!”

  “Wait,” said Noel, looking around. “It’s obvious this room has been used.”

  “Never mind that, sir. Hannah will see to it.” Robert gestured urgently, and Noel maneuvered Leon out.

  Getting his duplicate down the stairs was a hazardous, exhausting business. In the pantry, Noel froze as he heard unmistakable sounds of the soldiers coming inside the house.

  Robert opened the back door. “Hurry!” he whispered.

  They stepped outside into the cold air. Noel’s lungs seized up, and he nearly choked himself holding back his coughs. The cellar was dug into the ground, with stone steps leading down to the door. Robert opened this and helped him get Leon inside.

  “There’s a lantern and tinderbox. I dare not wait for you to light it. I must lock this door and help Hannah.”

  “Wait—”

  But Robert closed the door and shot the bolt home. Plunged into darkness, Noel struck the rough-hewn door once with his good fist. It didn’t even rattle. He jerked at the latch, but it didn’t budge. He and Leon were effectively locked in.

  “Damn!”

  Leaving Leon slumped on the floor, Noel leaned against the door to catch his breath. How was he supposed to grope around in pitch darkness to light a lantern he couldn’t see?

  “Great,” he muttered, running his fingers through his hair. “Terrific. Yankee Doodle Dandy.”

  He started to activate his LOC, but stopped himself. The LOC would provide him with light yet he didn’t think he could endure the pain that would cause. Not yet, anyway.

  The place was chilly and damp. It smelled of earth, vegetables, and cider. Noel groped his way forward with caution. Just before Robert had shut the door, he’d seen a table standing in the center of the room with a lantern on it. Probably about five steps away. He counted them off and bumped into the table hard enough to make the lantern rattle.

  The Institute had trained him well in all kinds of survival methods. Normally a tinderbox wouldn’t be a problem. But Noel was left-handed, and that hand was out of commission. He fumbled and swore and kept trying through failure after failure until he finally managed to strike sparks.

  Lantern light spread a yellow glow through the room. He found himself surrounded by stone walls lined with shelves containing numerous crocks of preserves. Nearly empty baskets of apples, sweet potatoes, and turnips stood on the floor. There were plentiful jugs of homemade cider. A few twists of onions hung from the ceiling.

  “Some of that cider would be tasty,” said Leon’s voice from behind him. “Why don’t we drink together? Then I can enjoy what you taste.”

  Tensing, Noel turned slowly around and found Leon standing up. Despite his rumpled nightshirt and bare feet, he showed no signs of his previous illness. His dark gray eyes were absolutely clear and cold.

  “That was a fast recovery,” said Noel.

  Leon raised one brow. “In spite of your nursing efforts? What was all the brandy for? I nearly sickened on it.”

  “So you were playing possum?”

  Leon smiled a taunting, wicked smile. “Your reference has no meaning for me. But it is not important. I—I think it is time to reevaluate matters.”

  His head twitched violently as he spoke, and he frowned a moment as though trying to bring himself back under control.

  “We’re hiding in the cellar while soldiers search the house,” said Noel. “Your presence here would be an embarrassment.”

  Leon smirked and started pulling on his clothes that Robert had brought. “I’d still like some cider.”

  Noel poked around and found a couple of tasting mugs. He filled them with the aromatic liquid, careful to keep his eye on Leon. Then he sat one mug on the table and backed away.

  “You act like I’m going to attack you,” said Leon, picking it up and drinking deep. He paused. “At least sip some of it. I’m sure it tastes delightful.”

  Noel took a swallow and frowned as Leon let his eyelids fall half-shut in pleasure. “I thought you were past that type of symbiosis. You haven’t been so dependent on me in our last few encounters.”

  Leon frowned as though he’d forgotten. “Haven’t I? It is not important. Did you hurt yourself?”

  Noel lifted his bandaged hand briefly. “Yes. Don’t you feel it?”

  “Why should I?” asked Leon, then looked confused.

  “That’s right, copy,” said Noel harshly. “You’re supposed to feel my pain. Symbiosis, remember? You’re not acting this part very well.”

  Leon’s face turned red. He twitched and started to fall, then caught himself with a jerk. “I can—I can!”

  “Can what? Fool me?” taunted Noel. “I don’t think so. For better or worse, I know my duplicate too well. Why don’t you leave him alone…Qwip?”

  Leon stiffened board straight, then his eyes rolled back in his head. A ghostly shape swirled from him to hover in the air, and Leon collapsed in a heap.

  “Clever,” said Qwip to Noel’s mind. “Your intelligence quotient has been underestimated.”

  Noel stared at the creature hovering before him, trying to absorb what had happened. It had only been a guess. He was shocked to find it was true. “You’ve been trying to go to my future. Why?”

  Qwip shimmered before him, a ghostly outline and nothing more. “This is your theory?”

  “No wonder the recall sequence failed,” said Noel. “Your kind of matter won’t travel along our time stream. You can’t enter our dimension, can you?”

  Qwip did not reply.
<
br />   Noel’s spirits rose. “Then recall can still work. As long as we’re rid of you, we have a chance to repair the—”

  “The contact point will remain open,” said Qwip.

  “Not if Leon and I can recombine. I explained that to you before.”

  “And I did not fail to understand. We understand even more now.”

  “Like what?” Noel said impatiently. “What are you getting at?”

  “Your words are imprecise—”

  “What’s your point?”

  “When you drifted toward our dimension and began to intrude, we feared destruction. The crossing of dimensions is dangerous.”

  “Yeah, so?”

  “But destruction did not occur. Now we wish to explore. This has presented us with many fascinating opportunities.”

  Noel stared at the thing. “You want to visit our dimension?”

  “I am already within it.”

  “Not completely,” said Noel. “You’re not corporeal.”

  Qwip laughed. “I told you I was showing you a representation of my appearance rather than the truth.”

  Noel was beginning to get a very bad feeling about this. “Who’s we?”

  “Is that not obvious? We have learned many things from your duplicate’s mind. We will learn more from yours.”

  As it spoke Qwip separated into three entities, then five, then seven. They surrounded Noel, and suddenly the tiny room seemed filled with them.

  He tensed, trying to watch all sides. His heart started beating very fast.

  “Merge,” commanded Qwip.

  They came at him, all at once. Quicker than thought, Noel raised his left hand and shouted, “LOC, activate protection mode!”

  Blue light flashed in response, sheathing him. Noel gritted his teeth, and his eyes watered in pain, but he held on, knowing he was safe inside the energy barrier the LOC had created. The entities swarmed about him, but they did not possess him as they had Leon.

  Just when he was wondering how much longer this standoff would last, the entities merged back into one vaporous form. It surged toward Leon’s body.

  “No!” shouted Noel. “LOC, protect Leon too!”