“I already have some ideas, my lord.”
“Good man.” Lord Moira cracked a dry, dusty smile. “Miss Hanley, would you summon Major Schofeld? I wish to give him his orders myself.”
“My lord, Major Schofeld is still recovering from a major Healing. His injuries nearly cost him his left leg,” Dalhousie murmured, as if he were Ainsworth telling a great secret. Daphne felt her heart begin to beat faster once more. She did not wish Schofeld ill, was glad to hear he was not dead, but…
Lord Moira cast a quick glance at Daphne, then said, “Corporal Broome, then, or Lieutenant Fisher. They participated in the evacuation of the Residence and can Bound to Madhyapatnam.”
“Broome and Fisher know only the Bounding chamber at the Residence,” Fletcher said. His head was held high and he appeared to be staring at a spot on the wall above Lord Moira’s head. “It is almost certainly under Amitabh’s control. In fact, my assessment of the man suggests that he will have made the Residence his headquarters.”
Lord Moira’s face darkened. “Lady Daphne,” he ground out, “it appears you will be needed for this adventure.”
“Yes, my lord,” Daphne said, trying not to sound inappropriately cheerful.
“You are to Bound Fletcher’s men there, and Bound them back again, no more than that. I do not wish you to be anywhere you might be incapacitated. You will not endanger good men’s lives, do you understand?”
She wanted to protest that she was cured, but his expression told her he would not believe her and did not care if she were. “I understand, my lord.”
“Very well. Fletcher, you are to leave as soon as possible, but take no unnecessary risks. What we do not need is multiple executions come morning.” Lord Moira pushed back heavily from his desk and stood. “Dalhousie, continue your preparations for the troops to move out. No matter what happens tomorrow, we march on Madhyapatnam in two days.”
“Understood, my lord,” Dalhousie said. He exchanged unreadable glances with Fletcher that made Daphne wish she knew what meaning had been conveyed between them. She followed the others out of the office and watched Lord Moira and Colonel Dalhousie walk away down the hall. Had she not been so tremulous with excitement, she would have found it amusing how everyone stepped out of their way, like ducks bobbing out of the wake of a ship. She opened her mouth to ask a question, and without looking at her, Fletcher held up a hand for silence. That either spoke to some preternatural ability or the fact that he simply knew her too well.
When the two men were fully out of sight, Fletcher said, “You know of no Bounding locations you can safely go to within Madhyapatnam, is that true?”
“Yes, but I did not like to say so in front of Lord Moira, in the event he decided this was too dangerous an adventure.”
“Very wise.” He flashed a quick smile at her. “We will have to move fast. Ainsworth, choose three men, preferably ones who have worked with us before. Phillips, assemble native costume for six men and one woman, and weapons enough for all. Miss Hanley, go with Captain Ainsworth and make the acquaintance of the three men he chooses; you may need to Speak to any of us.” Fletcher held out his hand to Daphne. “Lady Daphne, can you Bound to the first post-house we stayed at?”
“If the shutters are closed, yes, Captain.”
“One moment.” Bess tilted her head back. “I have Spoken with the khansamah and asked him to close off the post-house to the outdoors. Give him five minutes.”
“Thank you, Miss Hanley.” Fletcher fixed each of them with his eye briefly. “This is certainly not what any of you expected,” he said, “but Sir Rodney is a friend, and he is depending on us. Let us not disappoint him.”
Daphne nodded with the rest. Fletcher slung his arms around her shoulders, and she lifted him and Bounded away.
The smoky light of a coconut-oil lamp made the tiny shack look dirtier and smaller than it likely was. Daphne sat cross-legged on the packed earth floor and traced patterns on it with her fingernail. Its walls were stained from decades of monsoon weather, its roof was a thatched mess that had had gaping holes in it before she and Fletcher had hastily mended them with scraps of canvas, and its door was nothing more than another large piece of canvas tied to the lintel with fraying ropes. Its only redeeming feature was that it was, after their ministrations, completely opaque to the outside world and suitable for Bounding. Daphne knew its essence well after hours of sitting in it wishing she had been able to go with the men.
She had Bounded Fletcher’s party in around seven o’clock that evening, well after sunset. The three new men Ainsworth had chosen were Sergeant Dockery, whom she had Bounded away from the Residence only hours before, and two Hindoos, Vajra and Chirayu, neither of whom she had met before. They gave her very professional nods when they were introduced to her. Both looked so ordinary they could not possibly draw attention to themselves, and Daphne guessed this was in part why Ainsworth had chosen them.
The Englishmen did not fare nearly so well. Dockery’s skin was darkly tanned, more so than Fletcher and Ainsworth’s, but he still looked European. Phillips had covered his red hair with one of the peculiar hats that were not quite turbans, and Fletcher did wear a turban in the Mahommedan style. They were dressed rather haphazardly, but in the dark, the non-Hindoos would likely go unnoticed.
“You will remain here,” Fletcher had told her, “and Miss Hanley will communicate with you to tell you of our progress. It is possible we will be leaving here at a run.”
“You believe you can discover where Sir Rodney is being held, and free him?” Daphne had said.
“I have contacts within the city, and some of them will know the facts we need. We will assess the situation, and make another plan at that point.”
“That sounds dangerous.”
“Less dangerous than assuming we know all the facts and simply charging in, waving our rifles and shouting.” Fletcher had flashed a smile, gripped her hand briefly in farewell, and then they were gone into the night.
Now Daphne leaned back against the wall, then thought better of it and sat up again. The low rumble of Madhyapatnam at night surrounded her, the sound of thousands of people conversing and walking through the city mingled with the more distant sounds of the mofussil, the untamed lands between settlements. She imagined she heard a tiger, but no animal would come so close to civilization as to be heard clearly. Here, humans were the superior species.
~Daphne, Ensign Phillips says they have discovered Sir Rodney is being held captive in the Residence. That must simply be adding insult to injury, don’t you suppose? He says they are evaluating the approach, though I do not know what it means precisely.~
It was unfortunate she could not respond to Bess, as it would give her something to occupy herself during the long wait. She had left her pocket watch behind at Marvell Hall, and her second-best one had been at the Residence. No doubt some horrid soldier of Amitabh’s had stolen it, possibly Amitabh himself. The thought annoyed her. Who knew what use they might make of her things? Her Standiford’s Bounder uniform? She wished more than ever she were at Fletcher’s side, so she might spit in Amitabh’s eye.
She stood and dusted off her bottom, stretched her legs, and popped the joints in her neck. Phillips had found her women’s clothing similar to what she had worn to Vaachaspati’s poetry recital, but she had insisted on loose trousers and a long-sleeved shirt. “Suppose something goes wrong?” she had exclaimed. “I must be free to move, as free as possible, and as I cannot wear my uniform—and besides, it is not as if anyone will see me.” Fletcher had sighed, and directed Phillips to bring her the clothes she desired. They were too big, the sleeves falling over her hands and the trouser legs trailing in the dust, and she had occupied herself for the first hour by hemming up the legs so she did not trip over them. They had not found any sandals small enough for her feet, so she was barefoot, a sensation she rather enjoyed.
~Daphne, Captain Fletcher is going to attempt to sneak into the Residence. Oh, I am so nervous for him! Ensign Phi
llips assures me he knows what he is doing, but it seems so dangerous. I can only imagine what you must feel right now.~
A chill swept over Daphne despite the warmth of the night air, centering on her heart. Sneaking in—and he thought she was reckless! She closed her eyes and focused on the smells in the air to keep her from panicking. The coconut-oil lamp, smoky and bittersweet at the same time. Roasting fish nearby, making her stomach growl; nerves had prevented her from eating properly before they left. Farther away, but still close enough to make her hungry, the sweetish scent of cinnamon. Someone was making those delicious spiced honey nuggets whose name she still did not know. She determined to ask Fletcher as soon as this was all over.
She leaned back, forgetting herself, and had to jerk upright once more. The wall was not as damp as it looked, and Daphne realized it had been a few days since the rains had fallen heavily. A light shower as she and Fletcher were Skipping from the post-house to Madhyapatnam was all the rain she had seen. Perhaps the monsoons were finally over. What was India like during its winter? She hoped she would be there to find out.
No one seemed to be near their little shack, which was on the outskirts of the town proper and isolated from its neighbors, so Daphne pushed the canvas door aside and stepped out. The sky was bright with a million stars, undimmed by moonlight or the faintly glowing lamps attached to a few of the nearby hovels. Nothing moved in all the darkened streets nearby; but for the distant sounds of humanity Daphne might have been alone in the world. She shivered, and ducked back inside.
~Daphne, they are returning. Ensign Phillips says they have separated and it may take them some time to come back safely. They do not have Sir Rodney.~
Though Bess’s words were often indistinguishable from Daphne’s own thoughts, this time Bess’s discouragement came through as clearly as a fingernail against crystal. Daphne sank to the floor, her own heart aching. Fletcher must be safe, Bess would have said were that not the case, but if they were returning without Sir Rodney, it must be hopeless. She drew her knees up to her chin and sat hugging herself, wondering who would be first through the door.
Less than an hour later, or so she judged from how the lamp burned low, Sergeant Dockery and Vajra pushed through the canvas door. “We could not reach him, Lady Daphne,” Vajra said, sinking to the floor next to her. “Captain Fletcher was able to sneak into the Residence grounds, but Sir Rodney is well-guarded on the first floor. He could not bypass Amitabh’s men.”
“But I could,” Daphne said. Excitement had risen in her when he mentioned the first floor. “I might Bound to my old bedchamber, then—”
Dockery and Vajra exchanged glances. “Best you wait for the captain,” Dockery said. He was a gruff-looking man in his middle thirties, with wiry black hair and a dark beard shadow.
“Wait what for the captain?” Fletcher said as he entered. He took one look at Daphne and said, “Oh, no. Lady Daphne, you would not be able to reach Sir Rodney either. There are two guards on his chamber and one within. I believe Amitabh expects us to try something like that, having met you and seen what you are capable of. You would likely get as far as the top of the stairs before you were seen.”
“I am very fast at Skipping, Captain—”
“You are, but it is an unnecessary risk. I have something else in mind.”
“And that is…?”
He shook his head. “Wait for the others to return.”
Ainsworth entered shortly thereafter, followed by Chirayu. Phillips did not return immediately. Had Bess not relayed his messages to Fletcher, who shared them with the rest, Daphne might have gone mad with worry over the young man. Finally, Phillips entered, looking dustier and more worn-out than the others. “I beg your pardon,” he said, “but I had to take a roundabout way to return here. I believe one of Amitabh’s men suspected me of being a thief. But he did not guess who I really was, or there would have been a furor at the Residence.”
“Very good,” Fletcher said. “Have a seat, and I will tell you my plan.”
Daphne sat next to Fletcher, carefully not touching him. Excitement flooded through her, setting her bones to tingling, and he did not need any distractions. “We cannot reach Sir Rodney in the Residence,” Fletcher began, “and we naturally do not have enough men to assault the place directly. Our only chance is to take him as he is being escorted to the place of execution, which is the public square outside the bazaar.”
“That means knowing the route they will take,” Ainsworth said. “It’s a big risk.”
“There is only one large street from the Residence to the square. Amitabh will want the spectacle of displaying his captive as publicly as possible.” Fletcher leaned forward and drew a quick sketch in the dirt. “We will go now to examine the route and determine which is the best place to make our attack, then we will position ourselves there before dawn. Ensign Phillips, at that time you will stay near the Residence and communicate Sir Rodney’s condition to Miss Hanley—how many guards, how he is bound, et cetera. I expect you to follow them, continuing to Speak to Miss Hanley, until we engage with Amitabh’s men.”
He turned to look at Daphne, his dark eyes inscrutable. “Lady Daphne,” he said.
“I know, Captain, I am prepared to wait here for your return.”
Fletcher shook his head. “I intend for you to join us.”
Daphne’s mouth fell open. “But, Captain, Lord Moira—”
“Is not the man on the spot. If this is to have any chance of success, you will have to Bound Sir Rodney back to Calcutta while the rest of us occupy Amitabh’s men. He will likely not be in a condition to flee under his own power. Are you capable of conveying him to safety?”
“I am, Captain, but… Lord Moira will be angry.”
“I will take full responsibility.” He smiled, the warm, wonderful smile she loved. “And if we are successful, I see no reason Lord Moira should know about this at all.”
“Very well, Captain, I agree.”
“Then… I’m afraid I must ask you to wait here while we reconnoiter. I doubt you were trained to sneak through the streets of a city by night, and Skipping will not provide the information we need.”
“No, Captain, you are correct.” She felt no irritation at being left behind. To play a real part in saving Sir Rodney…! She wanted to Skip across Madhyapatnam, shouting her excitement, which would ruin the plan entirely. So she remained seated when the men left, filing out one at a time until only Fletcher was left. He crouched beside her and laid a hand on her shoulder, and amusement lit his eyes.
“Do not be too excited, or it will make you unfit for this adventure,” he said.
“I will not, it is just that I am so glad—you might have made me stay behind, where I would be safe, and it does not seem even to have occurred to you—”
“I did say I would have trouble sending you into danger if I could not be by your side.” He swiftly kissed her, the briefest touch of his lips to hers, and vanished out the door. Daphne clasped her hands in her lap and practiced breathing, in through the nose, out through the mouth. How wonderful, that he did not believe she needed protecting from danger! She must take him to meet her parents, and soon—no, she ought to ask him about his parents—oh, there were so many things they might do to make a life together! The possibility of being sent to the Peninsula shrank into unimportance beside that.
Despite her excitement, she dozed off, leaning against the filthy wall without caring about its condition. She woke once to Bess telling her she was going to bed, and would Speak with her before dawn, then again muzzily to someone drawing her down to lie on the hard earth. I cannot sleep in a shack with six men, she thought faintly, but was too tired to make any more objection than that.
When she woke, she was alone. The darkness had the still, damp quality that comes just before dawn. Her heart pounded once, hard, with fear that it was too late and Sir Rodney was already dead, but it was too dark for that to be possible. They would be in time.
~Daphne, I hope you are
awake. Ensign Phillips is still asleep, and you might wake him if you are able. Oh, I am so nervous I can hardly bear it!~
Daphne left the hovel and found the men scattered here and there around it in varying attitudes of sleep. It warmed her heart that they had been so considerate of her, though she supposed low minds might consider her virtue tarnished simply because of her association with them with no more chaperon than Bess’s disembodied voice. Fletcher knelt crouched over Ainsworth, shaking him awake. “Wake the others,” he whispered. “It is time.”
The city was coming to life as they made their way through its still-darkened streets, the smells of hot rice and roasted meat making Daphne’s stomach rumble. An hour, no more, and it would all be over and she would be back at Government House, or at Lindsey House, eating her breakfast. She tried to cling to that image without letting it weaken her. Sir Rodney’s life was still in danger.
Phillips disappeared without Daphne realizing it. He would be taking a circuitous route to the Residence, acting as their spy. Daphne ran over possibilities in her head to keep herself from growing too nervous. If Sir Rodney were bound to someone else, she would have to free him before Bounding him away. He might be shackled with heavy weights to prevent him running, which could make Bounding complicated; Sir Rodney was not a small man, and while Daphne was strong, there were limits to her strength. Finally, she made herself stop guessing and focused on following Fletcher to their designated spot. Phillips would tell them all soon enough, and then she could make a real plan.
The place Fletcher had chosen was a bend in the street that led from the Residence to the public square. On one side of the street, a house somewhat sturdier than the usual ramshackle construction jutted forward of its fellows, forcing the street to bow around it. On the other side, a curtained booth marked where someone sold honeyed figs during the day, based on the smell. The street narrowed between these two points. Daphne guessed Amitabh’s men would have to go two abreast rather than four, and with them strung out like pearls on a string, they would be easy to pick off.
Abounding Might (The Extraordinaries Book 3) Page 30
