Podric Moon and the Corsican Tyrant

by Barney Broom

“You’re lying.”

  Podric looked embarrassed.

  “We had a number, didn’t we?”

  Podric didn’t reply.

  “Did we have a number?”

  Partly playful, Catherine laughed – but it was brittle.

  “A computer games number…”

  “But if this world you’re creating is so alternatively real…”

  She was close to him.

  “Podric, that’s not fair. I thought you were going to tell me if you were going in and I was there.”

  “I was – would have. It was a bit sudden, the second time.”

  “You’ve been in twice?”

  “Had to – to check out a problem.”

  “And I was involved?”

  “Uhuh, deliberately.”

  “What happened?”

  “We were in a balloon.”

  “I hate flying.”

  “I know.”

  Podric couldn’t help smiling.

  “But it was alright. Things worked out okay.”

  Partly mollified, Catherine became reflective.

  “Glad they did. I wonder, do you think your…?”

  “UAR. Ultimate Alternative Reality.”

  “UAR – could help Sally?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “She doesn’t know what happened to her. I thought maybe with your computer knowledge, you could somehow find stuff out.”

  “Maybe I can but not with UAR; UAR’s an alternative reality inside a game’s world.”

  Catherine looked thoughtful.

  “Hmm… Be more useful if you could figure things out in this one.”

  “Think so?”

  “Yeah… Well, maybe not. Just don’t do that again – putting me inside without telling me. It’s unfair. Promise?”

  Only a few days previously Podric had extracted one from Archie but now the boot was on the other foot. He nodded.

  “Wouldn’t you like to come in if I’m with you?”

  “I… don’t know Podric. Sometimes I find this life quite challenging enough.”

  “Which is why I invented UAR.”

  “To escape.”

  “Exactly!”

  Pulling his sweatshirt, she became coy.

  “Maybe I do feel a bit different…”

  ***

  Archie was staring. The haughty young woman standing beside the Comtesse Louisa could not be his daughter – she simply could not be. But she was – the look, bearing, her beauty – Archie was transfixed.

  “Are you alright?”

  In his trance-like state Archie hadn’t realised General O’Hara had walked in.

  “I say, Captain Light.”

  With great difficulty, Archie pulled himself together. Unable to take his eyes off the young woman he was convinced was Cosima, Archie was still in a daze as he and the general left the room.

  “You’re as white as a sheet, man – quite ghostly. We’d better let the doctor have a look at you. Perhaps that last raid on the battery caused some internal injury?”

  “No. No – I’m fine.”

  O’Hara led the way to a small ante-chamber. The general sat down on a window seat, Archie slumped on a nearby bench. When he spoke, his voice had a faraway remoteness.

  “What time do we leave?”

  “Dawn, but the Council have agreed your parole; you don’t have to.”

  “I’ll be coming to Paris.”

  Archie stared out of the window. O’Hara looked troubled.

  “We journey together and will be interned till an exchange is agreed. Although there will be a show trial, I fear the dye is already cast as to the fate awaiting the prisoners.”

  Outside the residence, wagons, coaches and carriages were loosely formed up. Military impedimenta required for a baggage train would be protected by a company of cavalry.

  As Archie stood watching, a group of British sailors marched into the quadrangle under guard. Brought to a halt, the men appeared to have complete disregard for their captors, casually talking to one another, and trading tobacco and bits of food. This ill-disciplined behaviour provoked a vigorous response from the French who began firing their carbines in the air. This having little effect, one of the prisoners nonchalantly strolled over to Archie.

  “Nice dog.”

  Archie looked at the young man – no more than a big boy really. The games creator was sure he’d seen him somewhere – some friend of Podric’s perhaps. Friend… Friend…? Or was he…?

  “He bites.”

  “Reckon not.”

  Several French soldiers ran up and were about to manhandle the lad. Dog growled and the caporal dragoons hesitated. Ignoring the French guards, Barney stretched.

  “I was thinking – yer know, going to Paris.”

  The soldiers continued to hover as Dog continued to growl.

  “You’re gonna need someone to give you a hand, look after the animal.”

  “Really? I’m not quite sure what services you could provide.”

  Barney looked down at Dog. Whilst not a ‘horse whisperer’, Dog became strangely calm beside him. The guards saw this and drew back.

  “I’m good with animals – got a way with ‘em. Not birds though; I really don’t like birds.”

  “I’m sure someone will find this information of interest. Where are you lot going?”

  Archie nodded at the motley collection of sailors.

  “Likely into French ships. That’s usually what happens.”

  “Ah…”

  Barney stroked Dog.

  “Were I to bother requesting our captors your company attending the convoy in some capacity, what special reason do you suggest I offer?”

  “How about that I dragged you out from under the battery at ‘Convention’? But if you don’t think that’s appropriate, I’m sure you’ll come up with something, sir.”

  Giving Dog a final pat, Barney turned and walked back to his colleagues who were still carrying on in their insubordinate way. For once, Archie was speechless. The youth couldn’t have been lying. He owed him his life.

  The royalist nobility General O’Hara had negotiated the passage to Paris for were escorted to carriages. Watching the scene, Archie couldn’t fail to notice how quickly these people looked pathetic – as though it was only their fancy finery that had given them any grandeur. Able Seaman Sturridge appeared but had the sense to remain silent, and gently stroked his new charge. Speaking quietly, Archie said, “I’ve got a first job for you. I wish to ride in the carriage of that young lady.”

  He nodded towards Cosima, who stood waiting with the Comtesse Louisa.

  “The elder girl – and if you make the smallest inference regarding my intent, I’ll ensure that you’re pressed into a French ship so fast you’ll make the tide!”

  “Begging pardon, sir, there is none in the Mediterranean – tide, that is.”

  Moving away to carry out the order he’d been given Barney left Archie staring after him.

  “Ah, Captain of dogs. Your duties take you to the capital.” Napoleon appeared. Limping and walking with a cane, he was unable to suppress his excitement.

  “And you to take up your new command in Nice.”

  The recently appointed Brigadier General’s eyes narrowed; his face changed from glee to displeasure in a second. Archie laughed.

  “The posting isn’t a success. Your relationship with Robespierre will cause you to be briefly imprisoned but your star will rise to great heights before it’s finally extinguished.”

  Given his massive ego, even Bonaparte couldn’t completely hide a faint look of unease. His chaise and escort arrived.

  “Beware hussar. These are dangerous times and your tongue does you no favours.”

  Napoleon departed. Archie
turned to see O’Hara on the steps with Drummond and General Dugommier.

  “There you are, Light. The General was just asking for you. He’s anxious to have a chat. Something to do with your animal no doubt.”

  Barney appeared.

  “Begging pardon, sir, I’ve er… organised your coach.”

  O’Hara smiled.

  “Got yourself a footman, Light. Commendable.”

  The general moved away. With Dog in tow, Archie followed Barney along a line of carriages.

  “I’ll ride atop, sir, along with the Frenchie guard. The hound can come up as well. He’d take up a deal of room otherwise inside.”

  “You’re welcome to him. Dog – up you go!”

  They arrived at their carriage. With some handy assistance from Barney, the great animal leaped up on the roof, causing cries of delight from the Comtesse Louisa.

  “Your dog is travelling with us, sir. This makes me very happy!”

  The girl was delightful.

  “The popularity that animal has. If I ever come back as something else, it’ll be him!”

  “Safer perhaps.”

  The speaker was a tired-looking man who sat in the corner seat. His careworn face and cadaverously bent torso aged him more than his years.

  “I am just happy to have such a beautiful dog with us! He will bring us good luck, I think.”

  Louisa attempted to lean out of the window but at that moment the coach gave a lurch and she fell back.

  “I should introduce myself. I am Captain Light of His Britannic Majesty’s 4th Life Guards. Currently a prisoner of the Republic, I’m accompanying General O’Hara to Paris.”

  “To be traded when we arrive.”

  “To whom do I have the pleasure of addressing?”

  The old-before-his-time man turned his tired eyes in Archie’s direction.

  “Valois.”

  Archie knew the ancient title of Valois was used by members of the Bourbon household when travelling incognito.

  “Aren’t you going to ask who my friend is?”

  The now oppressive atmosphere couldn’t reduce the Comtesse Louisa’s exuberant spirits.

  Archie turned to the other young woman who immediately lowered her eyes and looked away. Yet in those few seconds he felt some strange intimacy pass between them.

  “Well, as it appears she’s suddenly become mute, the lady is the Marquise Badeni of the famous Austrian family, currently attached to our royal household as a Lady in Waiting.”

  Wow, that was a turn up. Archie couldn’t imagine ‘his’ Cosima waiting on, or for, anything – be it a lady or anyone else! Archie racked his brains. He knew there was some European family history on his wife’s side – French/Italian connections, he thought; he might have heard the name Badeni but always believed it to be Italian in origin.

  The convoy of coaches began trundling through the city, the mood of the growing crowds becoming uglier at each turn of the road. The feeling of violence increased, and orders were given to lower the blinds. Valois hurriedly closed his. Taking the cue, Archie did likewise.

  Darkness enveloped them. There were cries and shouts outside. The coach picked up speed, lurching dangerously as it charged along the crowded boulevards. Archie pulled his blind slightly and saw a maddened scene. The blooded mob were lynching their victims mercilessly. Truncated limbs and dismembered bodies hung from pillars lining the route, jeered at by the horde.

  Turning back in the half-light, Archie caught the deadened expressions of Valois and the Marquise. A look of serenity on the face of the Comtesse, it was as if all the terror outside was not of the world she inhabited. Shots rang out from the coach roof as the driver whipped up the horses to a pell-mell pace.

  The carriage rocked about at a terrifying speed. A loud bang beside Archie caused him to open his blind. Barney was hanging upside down in front of him!

  “Beggin’ pardon, sir – suggest the ladies lie down and, er, these could be handy. Cutting up a bit rough up here.”

  Barney shoved a pair of pistols into Archie’s hands and disappeared from view. Quite how they’d been procured the computer man could never find out, but they felt comforting to hold. As if to reinforce their usefulness, part of the door was shot away by a sharp-shooting marauder. Splinters flew all over the carriage. Lowering his window, Archie leaned out and fired one of his newly acquired weapons at the revolutionary. Despite the coach’s terrifying pace, the man was trying to grab a rail and swing himself on board. Shot at point blank range, the frondeur fell back screaming.

  They were now at the outskirts of Toulon and thankfully the mob began to thin. By the time the coach reached the countryside, all was peaceful. The frightened internees abruptly found themselves in pastoral tranquillity. The release of tension was palpable, and the driver brought the horses to a trot. From the sound of laughter above, entente cordial prevailed.

  During the course of their flight the convoy had become separated. A number of carriages hadn’t made it out of the city. For those that had got through, coming over a gentle rise revealed a peaceful scene. Groomsmen were watering the exhausted horses and Dog instantly leaped from the roof to bound about. Experience of the recent terror acting as a bond, guards and prisoners alike mixed freely, relieved at their survival. Able Seaman Sturridge was communicating animatedly with their French coachmen and someone threw a rope swing over a bower.

  Watching the young Comtesse Louisa being gently pushed by courtiers, her rippling laughter completed the translucent image of a rural idyll. Captain Light made his way down to the river bank. Coming upon Valois in intense discussion with the Marquise Badeni, their voices dropped as he passed by. Exhausted by the horrors of the morning, Archie stared at the water.

  “The Duc wants to know why you’re accompanying us.”

  Lost in thought, Archie turned to the marquise.

  “I believe he still has a tongue in his head.”

  Cosima laughed – but it was a dark laugh, a laugh that had seen too much evil and been touched by fear’s hand.

  “At the moment, but why—”

  “Your name is Cosima, isn’t it?”

  Archie cut in. For the first time the young woman looked surprised.

  “How do you know?”

  “Do you know me? Do you think we’ve ever met before?”

  “Well… I saw you at the Residence.”

  “I didn’t mean that.”

  “I… I’m not sure…”

  Archie was thoughtful.

  “You know you have to escape.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Just that. Escape.”

  “You’re not serious, Captain?”

  “Scared?”

  “Of escaping? Ha!”

  “What then?”

  “You are strange. You don’t understand.”

  Archie waited for her to continue.

  “I was with the king and queen.”

  Archie still made no comment.

  “They wanted to guillotine me but the Austrian ambassador intervened. I was under house arrest in Versailles.”

  “Some prison.”

  “M’sieur, why do you think these people are indifferent as to where they lay their heads? Whether they sleep in a stable or palace is of no consequence to them.”

  “Historically, I suspect that wasn’t the case.”

  “Of course not!”

  Cosima Badeni was hard.

  “But when you have lived in fear and terror for weeks – months – on end, endured brutality and bloodshed, life changes its perspective. It is not difficult to become detached from one’s surroundings.”

  She stopped speaking and following Archie’s gaze, looked across the river at the French countryside.

  “The ambassador came to me asking if I would help get some of the c
ourt out of Paris. The d’Angoulac family is ennobled to the Kingdom of Two Sicilies. The royal family assisted them escaping under diplomatic protection. All was in secret and the guards let us pass. We got as far as Toulon. Now we are captured.”

  “And Valois?”

  “Several of the royal family took flight. Toulon was seen as a hope.”

  “But you… you are not obligated to these people.”

  “There you are mistaken, sir. Everything binds me to them. You think I would betray the Comtesse? I would rather die.”

  Whether she really was his daughter, whether he was experiencing some strange life within a game or actually living in January 1794, this girl and he were related alright. The stubbornness he knew so well reinforced that!

  Their conversation at an end, the Marquise took Captain Light’s arm and they climbed the slight gradient, re-joining the rest of the company. Dog was barking madly at the arrival of Generals O’Hara and Dugommier.

  “Thank God you made it through. We lost a third of the convoy.”

  Although tense, O’Hara looked much calmer than his pale aide-de-camp, Captain Drummond. Cosima left Light’s side for the Comtesse.

  “As you said, General, it’s a long road to Paris.”

  12

  Dual Identity

  Friday night was proving a long road to Drinkwell. The school bus had broken down and unencumbered by the responsibility of Amy, who was off school with a cold, Podric decided to get off and walk. Billy was dubious.

  “We’re supposed to stay on the bus.”

  “Might be hours yet and the village is only a mile…”

  Linklater, buried in his mobile phone call ranting at the delay with whoever was coming to their assistance – the boys began trudging down the road.

  Podric had been surprised that both Norris Widget and Catherine had even a vague sense of experiencing anything of his recent UAR adventures. They only being profiled, he wondered if somehow the mind pathway created was affecting their subconscious? Deciding he wouldn’t bother questioning Billy about their encounter, his friend surprised him.

  “Strange dream the other night – at least I think it was a dream. It was, like, super intensive – seemed almost real.”

  “Yeah?”

  “We met on an old wooden ship, and were wearing funny clothes – historic stuff.”