Iron Horsemen

by Brad R. Cook

  Genevieve pleaded. “I can help.”

  “You already have, my dear, but—”

  “I’m just a girl, right. I know.” Genevieve stormed off toward the main door of the shop.

  The baron shook his head and looked to Sinclair who shrugged his shoulders.

  I wondered why no one was going after her. They just let her run off into London, upset, and vulnerable to Golden Circle henchmen. I shook my head in disbelief.

  Grand Master Sinclair slapped Indihar on the back. “We should get you familiar with the Iron Knight’s systems. Tinkerer will you show you how to operate it. Professor, bring that chair over here for the baron.”

  I started to head after her, when my father called, “Alexander get back over here. You’ll help the baron, and fetch any tools these men might need.”

  I stopped in my tracks, but didn’t turn around. My father wanted me as an errand boy, not a knight, but leaving would mean certain punishment. I flinched as the large metal door on the far side of the shop slammed shut. Genevieve wasn’t coming back, she was walking home. She’d be exposed for the entire crossing through London, and none of these men would go after her. Even though it meant certain exile from any future plans, I ran for the door. After all, I had already garnered so many punishments due, what was one more? I took off running, but a nagging thought gripped my mind, and stopped me again.

  She was betrothed.

  To chase her would mean nothing but foolishness to these men. Sinclair caught my eye and winked, with a slight motion, he pointed toward the shop doors. I continued, as my father yelled, “Get back over here.”

  “No.” Again, the power of those words overwhelmed me and I darted out the door in search of Genevieve.

  A small scrap yard surrounding the building was littered with old parts waiting for the Tinkerer. I realized I was in the industrial section of London as the towering smokestacks around me belched choking black smoke into the sky.

  I searched for any sign of Genevieve. No one stood or moved within my sight, except for the blades of a scrap-piece windmill the Tinkerer must have put together. I noticed the gate of the outer fence swinging in the breeze. She’d made it to the street. I ran after her, and realized there was only one way to go, only one road led back to her home. I jogged after her, knowing I had to find her before a Knight of the Golden Circle did.

  CHAPTER 35

  THE MACHINE

  I spotted Genevieve’s halo of hair and ran to catch up with her. She moved through a crowd of Londoners, and I lost her twice as I darted over the cobblestones. I knocked into a woman carrying a parasol. “I’m sorry,” I said but paid little attention and continued to scan the crowd. After a deserved smack to the head, I ran off and left the woman with another apology.

  I looked up, dark storm clouds settled over London and a glint of bronze zipped over the river. “Rodin!”

  I followed the soaring dragon as it flew above the crowd.

  Rodin dipped below the retaining wall that lined the river and popped back up to land in the crowd. I rushed forward and found Genevieve leaning against the railing watching the boats cross under London Bridge. Rodin sat on her shoulder getting his head rubbed as he tucked his wings in and wrapped his tail around her.

  I slid up alongside Genevieve, and rested on the railing. She turned, surprised to see me. I smiled and shrugged my shoulders.

  I saw the puffiness of her eyes. “They were wrong.”

  “The older I get, the more my father wants me to become a proper lady, but why teach me to use the sword if he’s never going to allow me to use it.”

  “Yeah, all my father cares about is that I don’t upset Eton.”

  “Parents.”

  I smiled. “That’s why running around Europe was so much fun.”

  “Back to reality, I suppose.”

  “Yeah,” I turned back to the river, kicking the railing with the toe of my boot. “Reality.”

  Genevieve turned. “It was fun while it lasted, right?”

  “It was. Remember Gibraltar and the pomegranate we shared?”

  “Remember the monkeys?” we said in unison.

  Genevieve smiled and looked out over the dark water. “I almost wish we were back in Paris. I could have stayed a few more days.”

  I tried not to show my excitement. I felt the same way. “Sorry you didn’t get to keep the dress.”

  Genevieve laughed and covered her face with her hands. “I can’t believe we stole that! You’re such a ruffian.”

  “We didn’t steal it; we just didn’t pay for it right away. It was a nice dress, sorry it became a sail.”

  “It was a very pretty sail.” Genevieve’s head lowered and her shoulders drooped so much that Rodin began to shift and stir. “Alexander, Finn told you, didn’t he?”

  “You’re betrothed to the duke’s son.”

  “It was arranged when I was five years old.”

  “When you were five?” I took a step back. “Are you serious?”

  “It’s an old tradition of our family, of most noble families. The marriage is a union of our land and holdings, our status within the royal family. It’s complicated.”

  I huffed. “Is he a troll or something?

  A smile came to Genevieve’s face as she bit her lip and shook her head. “No, he’s not.”

  “I bet he’s older. Thirty, forty, something. With a fat gut, a bald head, and bad breath.”

  “He’s eighteen.”

  “Figures,” I groaned. “Have you even met him before?

  “Our families are friends.”

  “Indihar told me that his parents didn’t even see each other until the wedding day.”

  “You talked to Indihar?”

  “No, he mentioned it on the Sparrowhawk.”

  “It’s not like that, but I have to confess I haven’t seen him in months, he’s been traveling in Africa.”

  Why did he have to sound so perfect? “Of course, he’s an aristocratic adventurer.” Now I was certain I didn’t stand a chance.

  She averted her eyes. “Now that we’re back, I have duties, responsibilities.”

  “I understand, even though I’m not nobility.” I released her hands.

  “Alexander, you’re nobler than anyone I know. You gave so much of yourself on this quest. You deserve—” She took my hand.

  “Please, you were the amazing one. You defied the whole world to save your father.”

  Genevieve blushed and looked down at the churning waters of the Thames.

  “You’re the most amazing girl I’ve ever met. You wear pants!”

  Genevieve giggled and hugged me. I didn’t release her, and she never pulled away, but some ladies walking by gasped and we finally separated.

  I started to make a snide comment under my breath, but London wasn’t like America, their proper nature made them keep everything bottled up behind those high collars. Sometimes it made me want to shake these people out of their tailored wool armor.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about being betrothed.”

  I mumbled. “It’s okay … I understand. I don’t care.”

  “You don’t?”

  I snapped my head up. Did she not like that I didn’t care? “What?”

  Genevieve shuddered and turned away. “Nothing.”

  A moment of silence hung in the air, waiting for me to fill it, but every word I wanted to say got stuck. Finally, I blurted out one question, the one I’d come to ask.

  “May I walk you home?”

  “I would like that,” Genevieve wiped tears from her cheek, and I wished I had a handkerchief to give her. A gentleman would have had one.

  We strolled along the cobblestones, through the narrow shadowed streets with towering brick buildings on either side. We passed a large house under construction and strange noises filled the air, drowning out our conversation.

  The nagging ache in the pit of my gut almost doubled me over. Just like at Eustache’s house.

  Genevieve stop
ped, her expression changed, and she began to look around for trouble. We turned toward the house. A large wall built of wooden planks surrounded the perimeter and towered high above the street.

  I gritted my teeth against the pain and leaned in to Genevieve. “Not even the carriage drivers can see over this wall. Let’s check it out. Shall we do some lurking?”

  Genevieve smiled. “After you, Master Lurker.”

  Pounding metal and the shrill whirring of steam-drills echoed out from behind the wall. We crept along the perimeter trying to peer in between the slats.

  Genevieve motioned me over. “I found a plank with a loose knot.”

  I pulled my knife out and Genevieve drew closer.

  “Captain Baldarich always said to be prepared.” I pressed the blade against the edge of the knot and worked it free.

  I peered through and saw workmen in tattered clothes modifying the inside of the house with huge copper coils and other strange contraptions. Every worker seemed to be African, Asian, or Indian.

  A large white man with a scraggly beard and a disgusted expression walked around the terrified workmen. An emaciated man dropped a small copper coil as he tried to maneuver around some crates. The foreman rushed over, unfurled his whip, and struck the man three times in his back.

  I pulled back from the hole in disbelief. Genevieve and I looked at each other with horrified expressions. Of course I’d read the newspaper accounts of atrocities committed during the American Civil War, but seeing it made my blood boil.

  I dared to look again, driven to learn what was happening inside. A strange sound drew my attention upward. The domed roof of the observatory atop the house rotated around and a large, narrow door slid to the side.

  I locked eyes with Genevieve. “Why would they be opening the doors for the telescope? It’s still daylight, and it’s cloudy.”

  “I don’t know.”

  As I stared up at the observatory, Genevieve peered through the fence and Rodin, sitting on her shoulder, tried to see, too. Her gasp drew my attention. “What is it?”

  Genevieve pulled back. “It’s Lord Kannard.”

  I looked through the hole and saw the nobleman standing on one of the balconies. His long white robe billowed in the rising winds as he stared out over the Thames with eager anticipation. Col. Hendrix came up behind him and bowed. The bronze plated Confederate appeared to give him an update and the news must have been good because it brought a large smile to Lord Kannard.

  Fuming, I yanked myself from the fence. I wanted to scale this wooden barrier and challenge them both, but even though I’d done a lot of foolish things lately, I knew that was too foolish. Genevieve spied through the hole as I paced behind her.

  She whispered. “I can see into the house. Some sort of machine rises from the basement up to the observatory. What is it, and what could the large coils of wire be for?”

  “Maybe it has something to do with the stolen Tesla papers. He works with electricity, maybe it’s a giant lightning cannon.”

  I looked up at the storm that formed overhead, and through a break in the clouds I saw the comet. It was daytime, and the sun, dimmed by the clouds, sat just to the east of the long-tailed star. I turned back to the house, and noticed the observatory’s door was aimed directly at the comet. What were they going to do to the comet? What could electricity do?

  My head snapped up. “An electromagnet, that’s it! If the comet has a core of metal, they could drag it down and it would strike the heart of London.”

  Genevieve eyebrows rose. “Are you sure?”

  “We made one in my science class. Wrap a copper coil around an iron nail, charge it with electricity, and it becomes a powerful magnet. They’ve built one the size of a house and aimed it at the comet. That’s why they wanted Plato’s papers back on Gibraltar.”

  Genevieve gasped. “We have to tell Indihar and the others. He has no idea what he’s about to face.”

  “Looks like that walk home will have to wait.”

  We slipped off from the fence being careful not to be seen by Lord Kannard and ran back to the Tinkerer’s shop with Rodin soaring just above us.

  When we arrived, I slid the large door to the side and rushed in. I looked for my father, the baron, anyone, but only the Tinkerer sat at one of the tables working on some contraption. I looked for Mr. Singh and the Iron Knight, but they were gone. The Tinkerer looked up and his magnified pupils grew into a stunned expression.

  “What are you two doing back here? Everyone thought you went home.”

  “Tinkerer, they’ve already left?” I asked.

  “Aye, the baron went back to his house with the professor, and Sinclair went to coordinate her majesties armies.”

  I threw up my arms. “Now what?”

  Genevieve charged forward. “We found Lord Kannard’s lair.”

  His eyes widened and he pulled off his goggles.

  I stepped closer. “They’re building a giant electromagnet. We think they may pull the comet down to strike London.”

  The Tinkerer jumped up. “Not to mention what it will do to the Iron Templar.”

  “We have to help Indihar.” A worried expression crossed Genevieve’s face. “Tinkerer, you must have some other contraptions we can use. If Indihar’s already left, there’s no way to warn him.”

  The Tinkerer nodded. “Over here, but your father is going to kill me.”

  “We’ll all be dead if we don’t do something,” I said.

  Genevieve, Rodin, and I followed the Tinkerer to the back of his shop, where no light shone. He walked up grabbed two tarps and whipped them off in a single pull. I strained to see the outline of two more Iron Knights tucked away in the darkness. I saw the glint of bronze from one contraption but the other was too dark to see.

  Genevieve stared into the corner. “What are they?”

  The Tinkerer flipped on an electric light, tilted the tin shade toward the dark corner, and illuminated the two machines. One, made of dark iron, looked black in color. The second was mostly iron, but the shoulder guards, shield, and other accents were bronze.

  I stared in awe. “I thought there was only one.”

  “The Iron Templar was number two. The Black Knight was the prototype; I worked all the kinks out on that one, and the Bronze Knight, well… I’m not certain why I made it. I had a lot of parts sitting around and couldn’t sleep one week.”

  Genevieve turned and asked, “Do they work?”

  “Oh yeah, they just need a few things, ammunition, fuel, and the black one needs a new hose. It burst during testing. They don’t have all the goodies the Iron Templar has, but they’ve got everything that counts.”

  Genevieve toyed with the locket around her neck. “You did all of this in the last few weeks?”

  “The second two. The prototype I’ve been working on for a year. Ever since Sinclair told me about the horsemen.”

  “Tinkerer, I know that the baron and the Grand Master, even my father said no, but will you help us get these working so that we can help Mr. Singh fight the horsemen?”

  The Tinkerer’s greasy hands ran through his tussled hair as he paced in front of the two Iron Knights. He paused, and I leaned forward, but the Tinkerer continued to pace.

  The Tinkerer stopped, smiled, and in his thick Scottish drawl said, “It’s Archibald’s own words. You want to be a knight. Knowing the Grand Master the way I do, that means you are a knight.”

  Time slowed as the Tinkerer spoke the words. I repeated them in his head. Could I be a knight? Did someone find me worthy of the title?

  Genevieve smiled. “Thank you. You may have just saved London.”

  “We haven’t won yet. Here, let me show you how to operate them. We’ll start with the Black Knight.”

  The Tinkerer opened the iron chest plate. I climbed in and sat on the seat. My legs slipped down into the iron appendages, as I stood on the machine’s knees with my feet locked into the pedals. I fit my arms through the holes and felt the controls.

&
nbsp; It was like sitting inside an iron box. The walls of the chest seemed far away; maybe if I were bigger, I’d fill in the armor. I was tall enough to fit into the helmet, though. The whole contraption moved like an extension of my body. I felt like I was the Black Knight.

  The Tinkerer looked at us. “The steam engine on the back powers the knight.”

  The Scotsman rushed around getting the Iron Knights ready, Genevieve and I helped out, loading the weapons, filling the water tank, and getting the fire hot enough to power the machines. The Tinkerer made the last few adjustments and brought out two thick steel blades that resembled swords. Swords used by giants.

  Once everything had been loaded and the Iron Knights were fully powered, Genevieve and I each climbed inside. The Tinkerer closed the chest doors and locked them in. I was surprised by the ease of movement. I stepped on the pedal and the Black Knight rolled forward on its large tank tread feet.

  I flipped down the visor from inside with my hand and said, “Open the door, we’re ready to roll.”

  “Remember—they’re just machines. Steam and oil may be the blood flowing through their veins, but it’s the driver’s soul that is their heart. That’s their real strength. As Archibald might say, think like a knight and you will be a knight.”

  Genevieve rolled by and raised the bronze covered arm in salute. “Thank you, we won’t let you down.”

  CHAPTER 36

  IRON KNIGHTS VS. IRON HORSEMEN

  The rough metal handles bit into my palms as I gripped the Black Knight’s controls. I needed a lighter touch or my hands would be bleeding before the battle started. My heart pounded as I rolled down the cobblestone streets, searching for the house Genevieve and I had seen earlier.

  I couldn’t see her, my armor had no slits behind me, but I heard the Bronze Knight’s engine and the treads rolling over cobblestones.

  Dark clouds above kept the sun at bay and threatened rain.

  I stepped on the pedal and the Black Knight roared. I caught a glimpse of my reflection in a passing window. Dual smoke stacks angled downward sent twin black columns arcing behind me like the wake of a boat. I smiled, I liked being as tall as the second story.