by Brad R. Cook
I tumbled in after her and slid the window shut. Breathing a deep sigh of relief and flopping onto the seat next to her, I said, “I hope nobody heard that.”
CHAPTER 23
A Troubled Circle
Genevieve reached into her bag and pulled out a small brass cone. Placing the larger end against the wall, she put her ear to the smaller end to listen to the conversation in the next cabin.
Rodin, on the luggage rack, his wings tucked behind him, watched Genevieve with a cocked head. As I slipped by her and moved toward the door, he focused on me.
I crept up to the cabin door and nudged the curtains aside, only to see the butt end of a rifle not more than a foot away from my face. I froze. Fortunately, the guard’s back was to me and he was looking toward the other side of the train. When my heart beat again, I focused on the corridor. The soldier covered his mouth as he yawned. He shifted back and forth, and although I knew there was another soldier standing at the opposite end of the car, they didn’t speak to each other. I closed the curtains, careful not to ruffle them, and slipped over by Genevieve.
She pointed to the wall. “Hendrix and Kannard are arguing.”
“Your mom is in there, too.”
Her face hardened, “She is not my mother.”
I kicked myself. “What are they arguing about?”
“I’m not certain,” she whispered, “but I think it may be about Zerelda.” She put her ear back against the cone.
I cupped my ear and leaned against the wall. The soft mumblings I heard in the next cabin became much clearer.
Lord Kannard’s vile voice echoed against the wood. “Once we get this equipment in the south, we can get back on schedule.”
Colonel Hendrix’s gears squeaked as he stepped across the room. “Good, because we’re getting too far behind.”
“Don’t worry, the horsemen will ride again.”
“That ain’t in doubt,” Hendrix snarled, “but those Templers are meddling again. You didn’t finish the job, and now they’re more determined than ever to stop us.”
A sweet, sultry voice spoke. “Ah, but monsieur, you’re the one who changed the plan. If you’d have let me do it my way, they’d all be dead by now.”
Hendrix huffed. “We kill the dad, and the kid will never join us.”
I pulled back from the wall. That kid could only be me. Hendrix still wanted me to be horseman. I looked over at Genevieve, but she held her ear to the cone and faced the other way. I pressed back against the wooden panel.
“Enough of your chatter,” Kannard said. “Anyone who follows us now is a fool. A dead fool.”
“We need gold to complete the circle—and to seek revenge for my country.” Hendrix smacked the wall, causing Genevieve and I to jump back.
“We need power,” Kannard sneered.
“Gold is power,” Hendrix said.
“The Hearts are true power. Once the digging is done, we will have everything we need.”
“Still, the Zulu remain a thorn in our side.”
“Those savages will be dealt with when we arrive, and the British certainly won’t help them after the wars.” Kannard chuckled, “Plus, the only man who knew our plan is dead.”
“No,” Hendrix snapped, “the professor and his brat.”
Me?
“Maybe they’ll figure it out, but it will be too late when they do, and the horsemen will destroy them.”
“I still think we need the boy, Alexander. He must accept his place at our side.”
“Choose another,” Kannard said. “He fought against us; he’ll never ride with us.”
“Never,” yelled Hendrix. “He is the key. If Alexander rides, our victory is assured.”
I pulled back and dropped down onto the bench. My heart ached from their words. I’d assumed they wanted me last year because I was some kind of pawn to play against the Templars. But now it sounded like destiny. Whichever side I choose would be the winner. I exhaled heavily, trying to force the pressure out of my body, but the tension in my muscles only strengthened. They wanted to kill my father. Everyone I cared about. My shoulders slumped, but then I thought, if I was that much of a threat to their plans, I must be doing something right.
“I shouldn’t have come … what if that is what they have been planning all along?”
Genevieve turned and sat down beside me. “You’ve already faced that demon, and you said no. You will have the strength to do so again.”
“But why me?”
“You’re a man of talent, Alexander. You are not cast into a noble class. Your actions define you, not your birthright.”
She was right. She, on the other hand, was defined by her birthright. A destiny decided. A gilded cage she could never escape.
CHAPTER 24
TROUBLE ON THE TRAIN
Genevieve and I sat in silence while I ran my fingers through my hair, and my mind raced over Hendrix’s words. He still wanted me to be a horseman.
She whispered, “Do you think Mr. Singh and Owethu have made it to the engine yet?” Before I could answer, a distinctive thunk reverberated across the top of the train. The entire train lurched. Genevieve gripped one of the armrests. “I don’t think that’s Mr. Singh and Owethu.”
Stomping feet thundered in the hall as someone ran past our car and pounded on the door to Kannard and Hendrix’s cabin. I jumped up and ran toward the door and lifted the curtain. Kannard stepped out of his cabin and snarled at the solider. “What is this disruption?”
“Sir, an aero-dirigible has latched onto the train with grappler cables.”
“What?” Kannard gasped.
I motioned to the roof, and formed my hands to resemble an airship. Genevieve smiled.
Hendrix stormed into the corridor. “Damn them Templars! Battle stations. Prepare to repel our boarders.” He and several soldiers rushed down the corridor to the front of the train.
Kannard boomed orders to the other soldiers. “The rest of you stay here. Shoot anyone you don’t know.” Kannard turned toward the inside of his cabin and said, “You stay here as well, my dear. You’re my insurance.”
“Insurance?” I repeated.
Genevieve shrugged. “We should get out of here.”
“Agreed.” I rushed to the window and scanned the sky, but no Sparrowhawk. From inside the cabin, I couldn’t see anything.
As I opened the window, a soldier pounded on our cabin door. Genevieve scampered past me through the opening and I quickly followed. As we slid our way along the molding to the end of the car, the sky above us darkened. I looked up. The Sparrowhawk! Two ropes dangled below the vessel and connected to the top of a train car.
“Alexander, look out!” Genevieve yelled.
A soldier reached around from the end of the car. His finger tips brushed my shirt, but I scurried along the edge toward Genevieve. Beyond her, another soldier hung outside the cabin window. We were trapped.
Genevieve nudged me and pointed up. “Climb,” she shouted.
The lady assassin stuck her head out the window of her cabin and locked eyes on us. Surprise lit up her face, but her expression quickly hardened and she climbed out onto the side of the train as well.
As Genevieve pulled herself up, I slid closer to her. She planted her foot on my shoulder and heaved up onto the top of the roof. She leaned down, grabbed the back of my shirt, and pulled me up.
Once on top, I pulled my goggles down, to keep the wind from burning my eyeballs. I followed the grappling lines up and saw Eustache and the baron zipline down the cable, landing on the car behind us. Surprise registered on their faces as we waved. Eustache shook his head and pointed behind us. I spun around as the lady assassin leapt up onto the roof.
I got to my feet, grabbed Genevieve by the arm, pulled her up, and we ran toward Eustache. Reaching the gap between the two cars, Genevieve screamed, “Jump!” She landed safely on top of the next car. I followed but as I flew through across the opening, a hand reached up and snagged my leg. I slammed forward ont
o the roof and rolled on my back. The lady assassin stood over me with her sword drawn, but her eyes remained fixed on Eustache and the baron. Lord Kannard climbed up and grabbed me by the collar. I struggled to get away, but he when he pressed a revolver against my head. I froze.
Yanking me to my feet, he turned and backed up behind the lady assassin. Genevieve drew her saber, screaming in defiance. Her father rushed up behind her, with Eustache at his side. Seeing the Templar filled me with courage. I struggled trying to pull free. Lord Kannard wrapped his arm around me, pulling me against his chest. The metal breastplate under his clothes jammed hard against my back. “Hello old friends,” he screamed over the wind. “That’s far enough, else I shoot this kid.” He pressed the gun into my temple and cocked the hammer.
Eustache stepped toward Kannard and yelled, “I can’t say it’s good to see you again, my old friend.”
“I’m surprised you left the estate.”
Eustache’s expression hardened, “Let Alexander go. This isn’t about him.”
“You don’t know what this is about,” Kannard yelled. “You never did.”
Eustache took another step. “I preserve the old ways, just as you once tried to do.”
Kannard waved his gun and screamed, “The old ways … Ha. We are beings of power. Peace and freedom are fleeting; the universe is ours to command.” Kannard extended his arm and fired at Eustache. The jarring train made aiming impossible, and, thankfully, he missed. “I guess you didn’t get my message.”
Eustache didn’t flinch. “I got your message, right in the heart.” He tore open his shirt and jacket revealing a gold plate over the left side of his chest with the symbols of the Templar Order. “My will is too strong; my purpose divine.”
Genevieve jumped back over and swung her sword at the lady assassin, “Let him go,” she sneered at the woman.
Kannard backed up, not taking his eyes off the baron, Genevieve, or Eustache. As the lady assassin dodged Genevieve’s every strike as the baron yelled at his daughter, “Genevieve, get back over here.”
Baron Kensington raised his hands, trying to calm everyone down.
Lord Kannard tightened his grip on my shirt, nearly pulling me down as he backed away. His grunting and breathing so quick, I thought he might burst like a steam pipe.
“Kannard, you can’t get away!” the baron shouted. “More Templar forces are on the way. Soon you’ll be outnumbered, and the train will be ours.”
No sooner had the baron said this, a bronze-plated arm smashed through the roof behind him. Colonel Hendrix pulled himself up, the sprockets and gears of his mechanical arms shifting and turning as the three-finger claw retracted into his sleeve, only to be replaced with a gleaming blade of sharpened steel. He raised his arm at the baron, who countered by drawing the blade from his cane.
Genevieve, still on the attack, thrust he saber forward at the lady assassin, her hair swirling like a whip in the wind. The lady assassin parried Genevieve’s attack with a long thin dagger while circling around her and pushing Genevieve further away from her father. Eustache eyed the side of the train, and from the twitch in his step, I could tell he was about to act. Beside Eustache, the baron pivoted his head between Kannard, Hendrix, and the lady assassin, but his blade remained fixed on the colonel.
Everything around me, from the sound of the engine, to the whipping fabric of the baron’s coat slowed down until the universe ticked by in seconds that lasted minutes. This was the moment, the moment Alexander the Great always looked for. I was the key to this standoff. Without me as hostage, Kannard would be vulnerable. Without me as hostage, they might surrender. I had to act.
I waited for Kannard to re-grip my shirt as he had been doing for the last several minutes. As his fingers opened, I reached down and yanked my Thumper from its holster. Pushing away from him I swung the Thumper and struck his gun hand. Kannard’s face morphed from surprise to anger. His eyes burned with rage and he raised the gun at me. I aimed my Thumper at the gun and pushed the button. The percussion cap fired, sending the thick top end out like a piston as it slid back the blast of concussive force slammed into the gun and his hand.
Kannard screamed out and released his gun as the bones in his hand and wrist broke. The gun skittered off the side of the train.
Immediately, I ran toward the lady assassin and Genevieve. Eustache drew a palm pistol from his vest and fired at her. Genevieve continued thrusting her sword at the woman. The lady assassin flipped backward over me, landing several feet away. The baron, still fighting Hendrix, turned to see why Kannard screamed. Hendrix slammed his bronze-plated shoulder into the baron, knocking him off the side of the train. Hendrix continued on, shoving Eustache to the top of the train and jumping over to our car and sacking Genevieve and I like a bunch of potatoes.
Genevieve tried to scream her father’s name, but the sound was crushed by Hendrix’s weight as we slammed into the roof. We both landed at Kannard’s feet, and with the bulk of the colonel on top of me, I couldn’t move. I managed to twist my head enough to see the lady assassin hurling knives which Eustache parried with his sword.
An explosive crack split the air, and bolts of blue electricity slammed into train. Hendrix yanked Genevieve and I up, hooked his arms around us, and walked backward. Captain Baldarich slid down the zipline from The Sparrowhawk and landed on the roof behind Eustache.
Kannard, down on his knees and nursing his broken hand, peered over his shoulder at Hendrix and us. He erupted into a maniacal laugh. I turned my head and saw only a dark horizon. Dense brown clouds, churning like a thick soup enveloped all the land in front of us. Like death on the wind.
“Sandstorm,” I yelled.
CHAPTER 25
SANDSTORM PYRAMIDS
Lord Kannard cackled “Destiny is my friend, not yours.”
“Let them go!” Eustache cried. The dark brown wall of churning grit and sand swallowed the train’s engine. Captain Baldarich, grabbed Eustache by the arm and pointed toward the sky. “We leave now,” he yelled, “or the Sparrowhawk will be ripped from the sky.” Baldarich grabbed the grappling line. Eustache hesitated. He stepped away, as if in defeat. His shoulders slumped. He snagged one of the lines with his hand and cut it free from the train. Baldarich did the same and the two men flew off as the Sparrowhawk soared away.
Colonel Hendrix dragged us down into the train car as the sandstorm overtook everything. Through the windows, I could see the whipping winds stirred up walls of sand like a giant tornado. The thunderous howling drowned out the chugging noises of the train. It scoured and scratched at the glass, like demons tearing their way in, until all I saw was a blanket of black.
I hoped, the sand would clog the train’s gears and we’d stop. However, we kept pushing onward, and despair seeped in. Our survival was up to us now. I knew the Sparrowhawk would never stop looking for us, but would destiny favor the Golden Circle as it had today?
Hendrix locked us in a cabin, oddly the same one we’d hidden in before. As he left, he turned to the soldiers in the corridor and held out his mechanical hand. “If one of them escapes, I’m punishing the lot of you.”
Thoughts of Owethu and Mr. Singh quickened my heart, but I could only assume they had been pitched overboard by the raging sandstorm. On the other hand, if they hadn’t been discovered, they might be hiding somewhere on the train. Not wanting to think the worst, I shifted my attention to Genevieve, who sat next to me and seemed to be lost in her world.
“Rodin? Where’s Rodin?” I asked.
“He flew after my father when he fell off the …”
“I’m sure your father will be okay, and it’s probably best Rodin isn’t here.” I stared back at the guard as he peered through the window. “Why didn’t they take our weapons?”
“They don’t consider us a threat.” She sat back, almost slouching against the couch. “We just showed them they can take us down with ease.”
“That’s not true, we were—”
“Useless.”
“She bested me with ease. I was too emotional.”
I couldn’t argue with her, but I’d just stood there, a captive in Kannard’s arms. I watched the raging sandstorm engulfing the train, the swirling chaos mirroring how I felt inside. This was a Gordion Knot. So complex and confusing that it hurt my mind just to think about. All I really knew was that Alexander the Great was never captured by his enemies.
“So, where do you think they are taking us?”
Genevieve toyed with her locket. “Cairo for starters.” She let the locket fall against her chest. “After that, I don’t know.”
When the train slowed at the Cairo station, the lady assassin opened the door, soldiers on either side of her. Genevieve jumped up and drew her saber. I sprang to my feet and drew my bowie knife from the leather straps wrapped around me. I didn’t think attacking was the best plan, but I wasn’t going to let her stand alone.
The soldiers raised their rifles and the woman laughed. “A good show, but I’m afraid quite pointless,” she laughed. “Let’s go. I’d prefer you walk, but we will drag you, if you insist.”
“Why should we cooperate?” Genevieve asked.
“Genevieve, come with me,” the woman said, using the French pronunciation.
“Don’t call me that. You are not my mother.”
“Words do not change what I am.”
“My mother died in a boating accident.”
The woman’s face hardened, but she did not respond. She merely turned and walked away. Then I recognized the telltale gears and squeaks of Hendrix. He stepped into the doorway and laughed. “You got two choices. Put your toothpicks down, or I shoot you and patch you up later. Either of which suits me.”
