Revenge of the Brotherhood (Book 3 in the Tom & Laura Series)

by John Booth

  “We just vanished,” Tricky shouted. He had his head out of an open window in the observation room and was looking towards the back of the ship.

  “I did that,” Laura told him.

  “Bloomin’ marvellous,” Tricky replied. “We ain’t ’ere.”

  It took no time at all for the Hubris to reach Buckingham Palace. A gold coach surrounded by armed cavalry waited for the Queen. French used his telescope to get a closer look.

  “Damn, those soldiers are loaded for bear. Do ordinary folk attack the Queen of England?”

  Dougal stared down and French handed him the telescope. A quick glance was all he needed.

  “That’s not ceremonial weapons, though their outfits are. It looks like they are expecting trouble.” Dougal swung the telescope over the route the coach would be taking. “There are snipers on the rooftops. They must be expecting a lot of trouble.”

  Laura stared down at the tiny figures of the soldiers. “Unless they have Spellbinders working with them, they are still vulnerable.”

  “If the Queen can’t get hold of Spellbinders, who can?” Daisy asked.

  Dougal made a command decision.

  “Tom, take us to St Giles and move us lower. It’s a great view up here, but there is nothing we could do to help if we had a mind to.”

  Queen Victoria, her husband Prince Albert and her eldest son, Prince Albert Edward, best known to the world as Bertie, got into the carriage and sat down. A footman closed the door behind them.

  The Queen was an attractive woman in her early forties, her husband was the same age, but early onset baldness made him look much older. Bertie was not yet twenty and was usually very happy, but today he looked gloomy.

  “Do smile, Bertie. We are going to a wedding, not a funeral,” the Queen said. She patted her son’s leg in an encouraging manner.

  “I am sorry, Mama. The news of Miss Young’s death has hit me hard. I never did get to introduce you to her.”

  The Queen hid a smile. Her son’s fascination with the conquest of young women was well known, but he really did seem to like this one. “It seems to me that this is the second time you have been in mourning for this girl and once is all most people get. Perhaps you should wait to see if the reports are true.”

  “It was reported by a Telepath at the scene. Surely it must be true?”

  “I have come to believe that less than half of the reports I am given are true. And yet I am the Queen.”

  There were shouts outside and the sound of horses moving away. The coach creaked into motion a few seconds later. Prince Albert grumbled to himself and took out a small two shot pistol, which he examined carefully.

  “You feel we need to be armed for a wedding?” the Queen asked.

  Prince Albert looked across at her and smiled, causing the Queen to smile back. They had been married for well over twenty years and it seemed to him as if they had only tied the knot yesterday.

  “If Sir Ernest is right, we need to be armed. I would have preferred to ignore the wedding and stay at home, but we cannot hide in fear. You are an Empress.”

  The Queen turned to Bertie. “And do you think we need to be armed, despite being surrounded by cavalry with enough soldiers stationed on the route to handle an armed insurrection?”

  Bertie did not answer directly, but reached into his pocket to bring out a revolving pistol. His mother nodded. She opened her purse and reached inside it.

  “I must confess to be carrying a small gun myself.”

  In a side street, the men Harris had met in the rag and bone yard walked causally to where the Charger waited. People were gathering up the road to see the royal coach pass.

  Ross nodded at the two men on guard and they drifted away and into the crowd. Ross took a pocket watch from his waistcoat and grunted.

  “The Royal Family will be coming past in a few minutes. Tony, do you want to get closer so you can see the coach better?”

  Tony was the man Ross had identified as the Spellbinder. He nodded and walked briskly towards the crowd.

  “What’s ’e up to?” one of the remaining men asked. He had low brows and looked more like an ape than a man

  “That’s why we call you Brains,” Ross said and laughed in amusement. “The better he sees the coach, the men, and their horses, the easier it will be to bind them.”

  Brains sniffed in disgust. “Magic, I ’ates it.”

  The last man in the team was Ernie. He cracked his knuckles. “Do we ’ave to wait long?”

  “About an hour,” Ross replied. “We will hear them coming back long before they get here. I gather they will be in a hurry.”

  The vicar was feeling under considerable pressure. He had led the Queen into the church with Lord Palmerston, who was surprisingly agile for a man of 78. Then he had let in a dozen people on Miss Mann’s list before shutting the doors and locking them. Some of the guests waiting to get in were not amused.

  “My name is Sir Anthony Baxter and I am the Director of MM3. I demand you let me in at once.” Baxter was already red in the face and Harris watched him in amusement. He had no idea what Trelawney was up, but was enjoying the sight of his boss risking bursting a blood vessel in his outrage.

  “It will only be for a few minutes, please be patient.” The Vicar looked at his pocket watch and saw there were ten minutes to go. He wasn’t sure he could last that long.

  Trelawney surveyed the people in the pews from where he stood next to the altar. These were just about all the people he trusted in the world, the remainder were in an airship hovering somewhere close by.

  “We do not have very much time. Let me explain the situation.” Everybody quieted down to listen.

  “The Brotherhood is poised to strike. It may even be today when the Queen returns to the Palace. We know that Baxter has created a plan called Scenario Blue which details the responses Military Magic would make should the Queen or her consort be kidnapped. The plan is superficially plausible, but it leaves out key elements such as the use of Precogs or Farseers to prevent it happening, or to locate and rescue the Queen after it has happened.”

  Gareth Jones coughed politely and Trelawney encouraged him to speak. “MM3’s Precogs and Farseers were ordered to take a holiday for a month starting last week. They were told to leave the London area.”

  There were gasps of shock from the other guests.

  “He has argued that they were making mistakes through exhaustion and were worse than useless in their present state.”

  Trelawney nodded. “And that confirms what we suspected. The attack will be this month. There will be a precursor event today. One of my agents has been ordered by the Austro-Hungarian Empire to kill me and my wife at the end of the ceremony. We have reason to believe that the Vienna Witch will be present to take over the task should my agent fail. For that reason, she will not fail. After we are shot, please remain seated and give the royal family time to leave the church.”

  “Do they really believe that they can get away with kidnapping the Queen and receive a ransom?” Jones asked.

  “That is the thing I do not understand,” Trelawney said. “There seems to be nothing else wrong with Scenario Blue, except that it is an overreaction with far too many people deployed. I cannot see how the Brotherhood expects to make any money on this venture.”

  The remainder of the guests were being ushered into the church below the airship. They were low enough for Antonia to recognize her sister and wave at her from the window.

  Andrea glanced up at the sky. It looked a little fuzzy where she knew the airship was and she believed she could hear the thrum of its engines. Eric looked up and put his hand over his brow to get a clearer look. Andrea trod on his foot hard.

  “We are not trying to alert people to them,” she hissed at him as he hopped in pain.

  “Sorry. My brother says he is up there, but I did not believe him.”

  “Well, I can see you looking like a fool from up there and from down here, and even twice a fool does not be
gin to cover it.”

  They stepped into the church and an altar boy handed Antonia a piece of paper before running off. When they took a place in the pews Antonia risked a glance at it.

  ‘Meet me in the sacristy after the shooting. Do not shoot at anybody. T.’

  “What does it say?” Eric asked in a stage whisper that must have been audible at the back of the church. Andrea elbowed him in the chest, which dampened his curiosity.

  Dougal paced the bridge. “Anybody know what’s going to happen?” he enquired, his eyes firmly on Lucy and Daisy.

  Antonia put her hand up as though she was at school.

  “Well?”

  “There is going to be shooting. Andrea got a message from Trelawney. She is to meet him after the shooting and not to get involved.”

  “The man and woman getting married are going to be shot and killed,” Lucy said. “Then the one who shot them is going to be killed by another woman.”

  Dougal looked baffled, which pleased Tom because he hated being the only one in the group who didn’t have a clue what was going on.

  “The Ceremony has just started. The bride looks lovely,” Edith announced.

  “Trelawney is going to meet Andrea after he has been shot?” Dougal asked, somewhat desperately.

  Lucy looked perplexed. “Yes, he meets her, I think. But his shirt is covered in blood. It doesn’t make sense because I’m sure he dies earlier.”

  “Camilla is on a balcony thing at the side of the church. She has a pistol.” Edith said excitedly.

  “Daisy what do you see?” Dougal asked sounding out of his depth and desperate.

  “Visions of the Queen and Prince Albert getting killed. It does not seem to be here. Bertie is going to die as well.”

  “What are we supposed to do, Tom?” Dougal asked.

  “I could send everybody to sleep,” Laura suggested.

  “Fat lot of good that would do,” Tricky put in.

  Tom reached a decision, since Dougal seemed to be unable. “Ebb and Jeremiah, go to the gun turrets. Antonia let Lucy take the altitude controls. I want you to tell me what your sister is doing. Tricky, you stay with me to take over the controls if I have to go and do some healing. Alan, go and help Ebb, let him know anything your brother finds out.”

  Dougal and Daisy looked expectantly at Tom.

  “Dougal, you get ready to give messages to the gun turrets and protect me if I have to go and heal someone. Daisy, give me advice, as you think of any.”

  Laura looked hurt at being ignored.

  “Laura, go and write some partial binds. Anything you think might be useful. Especially things that might help the royal family if that coach is attacked.”

  Laura smiled and ran back to the observation room and her tools.

  Alice waited a few seconds. “I could knock Cam out if you wanted? Usin’ mi mind.”

  “Not yet, Alice. Trelawney has a complex plan going on down there and we might spoil it if we interfere too soon.”

  Cam spotted Annelise in the middle of the church. The woman was using opera glasses to watch the ceremony though it was not that far away. Her eyes seemed glued on Trelawney and his bride. Cam took her pistol and held it out of sight. She was in a space usually used by the choir, but they were camped at the back of the altar today.

  “I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss the bride.”

  Cam brought up her gun and took careful aim. These were going to be the most vital shots of her life.

  Having kissed, Trelawney and his wife stood close together hugging one another while facing the crowd. They stood perfectly still.

  Two shots rang out in the church. Annelise saw blood spray from Trelawney’s shirt and then from the top of Belinda’s dress. The shot sounded strange, a little more tinny than Annelise was used to. She saw Cam stand up on the balcony.

  Annelise fired two shots at Cam, but they missed. She turned back to the altar and saw a mass of people surrounding the victims. It was time to kill Camilla Burns, regardless of the fact she had carried out her mission. Annelise set off in hot pursuit.

  “She killed them,” Edith shouted. “Cam killed them both.”

  “Should I knock ’er out?” Alice demanded.

  “There’s some woman chasing Cam,” Edith shouted. “She’s shooting at her.”

  “What do we do, Tom?” Dougal asked.

  25. Confusion

  To Tom, the scene below looked very much like an ant’s nest that had had a stick poked into it. Men in formal suits and women in fancy dresses swarmed out of the church and milled around in the graveyard outside. The Queen and her entourage moved though the swarm as if an invisible force surrounded them, brushing aside anybody who dared to get in their way. The group arrived at the coach and got in. Cavalry men on their horses surrounded the coach from all sides as it began to pull away.

  “Where is Cam?” Tom asked Edith. It had proved impossible for him to spot her among so many people down there.

  “She is in the crowd, moving around the church,” Edith said.

  “I can still knock ’er out,” Alice said petulantly.

  “Is the woman who shot at her still following her?”

  Edith shook her head. “I can only track one person at a time and there are so many people down there.”

  Tom considered his options.

  “I am taking the ship down and we shall follow Cam. Keep tracking her Edith. Laura, if you have a disarming bind, get it ready.”

  Laura searched through the binds she had written. All of them needed a final word to activate them, another trick she had learnt from Snood. She knew she had written one to stop someone using a pistol, even though it was silly.

  Cam stumbled on a gravestone lying flat on the ground and ended up on her hands and knees. People shuffled around her and somebody trod on her hand. Her pistol fell to the gravestone and before she could reach it a man accidently kicked it away. Then she saw Annelise moving towards her through the crowd. Forgetting about the pistol, Cam got up and pushed her way through the guests, trying to get away.

  Andrea had lost Eric. Everyone had been moving towards the back doors except for her. There had been a lot of pushing and shoving and she thought she might have pushed the Prince of Wales to get to the sacristy. Considering the embarrassment of that action would have to wait for a quieter time.

  The small room was chock-a-block with choirboys. She pushed her way through them to where Belinda and Trelawney sat on a bench. Arnold stood next to them shaking with aftershock. Trelawney and his wife seemed remarkably calm, given the amount of blood covering their clothes.

  “Ah, Andrea Wright. I met you once, though you may not remember. We were not introduced,” Trelawney said cheerfully, his eyes twinkling with delight.

  Andrea looked at the hole in his shirt over his heart and the black gooey mess surrounding it. “You appear to be in good health for a man shot through the heart.”

  Trelawney looked down and pointed at the hole. “Camilla is a fine shot.” He undid the shirt buttons and then some straps holding a large metal plate over half of his chest. The plate had the remains of a wet leather bag attached to it.

  “Strengthened by Spellbinders. I’ll still have a nasty bruise, but it is better than being dead. Camilla used half-charge bullets so there was little risk provided she hit the shield. I told her it was half the size to give her incentive to practice.”

  Belinda stood up a little unsteadily. “Well, this has been a busy day. I have my suitable clothing in the vicar’s office, Ernest. If you don’t mind, I’ll go and change.” Trelawney nodded and Belinda left them, cutting her way through the choir boys.

  “Did you see who fired the later shots?” Trelawney asked.

  “My sister tells me another woman shot at your assassin.”

  Trelawney frowned. “That must be Miss Shultz. Part of this charade was to convince her that Camilla was loyal to the Austro-Hungarians. It must not have worked. We must go and help her. The Vienna Witch is
a formidable assassin.”

  “She is in that direction according to a girl called Edith.” Andrea pointed through the wall.

  “Follow me,” Trelawney said. He held a pistol in his hand. “Do come along, Arnold.”

  Andrea and Arnold followed Trelawney to a small oak door that opened out in the side of the church.

  Cam ran from the crowd, picking the nearest street to run into. A single shot fired and she fell to the ground as a bullet hit her shoulder. Searing pain ran through her body and for long seconds she could not move at all.

  When she found the strength to roll over she saw Annelise standing a couple of yards away with a pistol held ready to deliver the killing shot.

  “Did you really think you could escape the Vienna Witch, Camilla Burns?”

  Cam sat up and the pain from her shoulder nearly knocked her out. “I fooled you for a long time though, didn’t I?”

  Annelise smiled. “Only the final victory counts, not the battles along the way. Goodbye Ingrid.”

  As she pulled the trigger, her weapon transformed into sponge cake and crumbled in her hand. Annelise snarled and shook the pieces away.

  “Yes,” Laura shouted in delight on the bridge. “Eat my cake, witch.”

  Lucy yelled, “She’s going to throw a knife.”

  Camilla grinned. There was only one Spellbinder on Earth that would change a gun to cake and she had been mourning her passing for nearly two days. Laura was alive and somewhere close.

  Annelise reached for the knife she killed the cat with. Then she screamed and clutched at her head before falling to the ground unconscious.

  “That’ll teach ’er,” Alice said with great satisfaction, having just followed Tom’s terse order.

  In the observation room, the bind making the ship invisible burst into flames and consumed itself on a metal tray.