Mycroft Holmes and the Adventure of the Desert Wind

by Janina Woods

  As he knotted the last string and proceeded to pick up some bandages, I stepped next to him and offered to hold up the leg so he could bind it properly. He thanked me with a weary smile and quickly wrapped the leg tightly in clean cloth. As all was done, he sank back and wiped his hands on the already ruined trousers, uttering an apology, which I immediately refuted.

  “Thank you for your help,” I said as I carefully put down the injured leg, then offered Watson a hand to stand up, despite the state of his. As he had risen to his feet and proceeded to the table to wash his hands in the water bowl, I cleared my throat once to get his attention.

  “Elizabeth Moran has been freed.”

  He dropped the washcloth and had to hold onto the edge of the table to stabilize himself. His expression was one of despair and nausea.

  “More deaths connected to us,” he sighed, let himself fall onto a nearby chair and put his hands over both eyes. “No matter where we go, people fall around us. Is this really worth it?”

  “I understand your argument, Dr. Watson. But we have to arrange our transport now,” I explained. “I’m very sorry, but we have to leave immediately.”

  “With Elizabeth on the run?”

  “While this is regrettable, she is not our priority. She is no threat to us now,” I said calmly. This was a blatant lie, but I needed to get him to move. Watson eyed me in a way that openly expressed his doubt in my words, but didn’t comment further.

  “I didn’t expect Moriarty to place such value on her,” Victoria placed a hand on my shoulder. “She must be more important to him than we thought. But why?”

  “Does it matter?” I asked in a strained voice. “Agents are both dead and wounded. Not to mention the security breach to this building and the implications this carries. I am in no mood to discuss this woman any further. We really need to go before Bates detains us.”

  “Detains us?” Victoria asked.

  “We walk in here unannounced, get several agents killed, and you expect them to let us go again? They will keep us for the investigation of this security breach and that will void all chances for my brother to see another day. It was a mistake even coming back here.”

  “Our supplies are in a storage room down the hall,” Victoria said.

  “There might already be agents outside this very door,” I added. “We can try to pick it up, but there’s no guarantee.”

  “Can’t we leave through the window or something equally underhanded?” Watson asked as he rummaged through the cupboards of the room for a new shirt and trousers to change into. He found a non-descript combination of beige clothes that suited the occasion just fine and did his best to remove the blood from his skin before changing into them.

  “No, they will have heightened the security after the breach. It’ll be as hard to break out as it is to break in now. Our one chance is the possibility that Bates hasn’t informed her staff of our new status as detainees yet. We could just walk out.”

  “That’ll never work, Mycroft,” Watson shook his head.

  “Oh, you might be surprised how many people don’t recognise you as a threat if you just walk as if it’s your god-given right to pass through,” I answered. “But we can’t leave as group. You two go first - and carry the bloodied cloth and the washbowl. Those will make it less likely for people to want to speak with you. I will meet you outside.”

  “Where are you going?” Victoria asked as she picked up the bowl.

  “To get our things.”

  “Leave it. We can get them when we return.”

  “I am not coming back here. Ever.”

  She shook her head, but I could see an understanding in her eyes. I watched the pair depart from the room and cautiously eyed the corridor. There was no sign of a guard. No one was watching. I waited for my companions to disappear behind the corner and immediately proceeded into the opposite direction, where I knew our belongings to be stashed. Unfortunately this brought me by Bates’ office again. The door was still closed, so I wandered by undetected to the storage room - only to be caught by the arm and dragged into the small space. The door slammed shut behind me as soon as I entered it.

  “Not a sound,” I heard a female voice hiss. “Don’t you dare say anything right now, Mycroft Holmes.”

  I nodded mutely and turned around to stare into the face of an enraged Marigold Bates. She had a death-grip on my arm, and I felt her nails digging into my skin even through the fabric of my shirt. This wasn’t good... at all. I wanted to talk my way out of it, but her demeanour made it quite clear that I wasn’t allowed to do so.

  “First you bring death into my house and then you want to steal yourself away?” The head-agent snarled. “Is this how you were trained? How you were raised?”

  I opened my mouth to reply.

  “Quiet! I will get you for this, Holmes. I will. And I trust you won’t try to run away from a proper investigation.”

  I was well aware of the depth of my actions and lowered my head in defeat, indicating that I wouldn’t impair the proceedings. There was no way I could get out of it, in any case. Victoria had been right... had I never searched out the luggage, we’d all be on our way out of here. My only hope was that companions might realise that they should carry on without me.

  “So if I don’t find you back here right after you go gallivanting off to save your brother from whatever danger it is that he finds himself in, I swear to God, I will find you. And you will regret the day.”

  “But you...”

  “I said not a sound,” she released my arm, which hurt fiercely where she had grabbed it. A hand-shaped bruise was sure to bloom at the spot later. She held out our meagre luggage with the other hand. “Take it and go, before I change my mind. If anyone asks me, I’ll pretend you made your escape.”

  “I don’t know what to say... Thank you.”

  She huffed a laugh. “Thank me by getting Sherlock out of his mess.”

  With a motion that dismissed me as if I were a servant, she indicated me to leave. I performed a short, but sincere bow and closed the door behind me after I left the room. With a dazed expression I walked through the embassy and out of the front door without anyone to block my path.

  It’s a Wonder He Survived at All

  In the evening of the same day I found myself in an Egypt very different from the hustle and bustle of the city. It was just as you heard about it in the tales being told by Egyptophile Londoners, who filled their homes with real or fake artifacts from this strange, ancient land. From my vantage point on the small ship, which slowly, but steadily worked its way upstream from Alexandria, I observed the passing landscape. This was a vision of the wealthy and prosperous empire this country had once been. The reeds on the bank formed a sea of green, flowing gently in the wind above the great Nile and the horizon opened up to show a vista of the desert. We passed small settlements in the midst of generously proportioned fields, and while I eyed my surroundings with curiosity and wonder, no person on the shore paid any attention to our ship.

  The weather was mild, and even though the sun was already low, I didn’t feel cold at all. How odd, thinking back to our journey through the Alps right now, like a thing out of a fairytale story. But no matter how much curiosity I had for the land, there was only so much energy in my body, and it had run out long ago. So only an hour into our day-long journey, I excused myself to lie down in the small cabin I had been given, grateful for a proper bed and a small amount of peace before our ordeal would start again. Soon I had drifted off into the arms of Morpheus, even before the sun had fully sunk in the West, and I have been told that I missed one of the most beautiful sunsets I should be able to imagine.

  I woke to a dull ache in my skull. It was already morning, but the gentle motion of the ship told me that we were still on our way. I sat up and massaged my temples. Even though I should have had sufficient s
leep, my muscles ached and my joints creaked as I stood up and selected my clothes for the day. The temperature was mild, but I suspected it would grow warmer during the day - we were supposed to head out into the desert after all - so I chose a light combination of outerwear and some parts of the uniform I had worn back in Italy, carried all this way.

  Outside my cabin, only the crew of the small ship was up and about. No wonder - after the strenuous activities of yesterday, my companions also needed every bit of rest they could possibly get. I moved around the vessel once, which was only big enough to accommodate six cabins in the back, a small room for captain and crew, and an open area to sit and enjoy the landscape in front. A gentle breeze was blowing, still strong enough to counter the heat of the sun, but not for long. One of the crew members approached and greeted me politely before I was informed that we were not far from our destination of Faiyum - one of the oldest cities in Egypt. It was time to prepare.

  But first I had something to set right that had been weighing on my mind for days.

  “May I come in, doctor?” I asked from outside the thin door of his cabin.

  “Yes, of course,” he answered.

  I opened the door to find Watson already dressed in the same set of stolen clothing as the day before, blinking into the sudden brightness.

  “How did you know I was awake?” he wondered as he sat down on the small bed and pointed me to the tiny chair, in case I would want to take a seat, as well.

  “A magician never reveals his tricks,” I smiled and took him up on his offer. “Frankly, I heard you groan when you woke up, because you realised that your arm hurt. And before you ask: You are still shaking it a bit now and then, as if the blood flow still isn’t quite sufficient.”

  Watson nodded in acknowledgement. “Have we arrived already?”

  “Soon,” I said and cleared my throat, paused just a bit, because I was about to do something that only happened once in a decade. “And before we continue, I believe I owe you an apology. I treated you poorly on this journey, while you have been a support to me. Please don’t confuse my usual manner with ungratefulness.”

  “Mycroft, please,” he answered with a smile and leaned forward. “Think nothing of it. We’re simply going to fetch Holmes, return to London together, and all will be forgotten. Then we will bind him to his chair, so he can never do stupid things again.”

  “My brother would be out of his locks within seconds.”

  “And berate me for whatever type of knot I used.”

  “Then go into a lecture about proper binding techniques.”

  “Before lighting a pipe, shushing us out of the house and shouting for a cup of tea from Mrs. Hudson.”

  We joined in a hearty laugh, which must have been rather loud, as Victoria soon appeared in the doorway to see what all the ruckus was about.

  “What’s so funny?” She grinned as she leaned against the door frame. I could see the rough desert landscape passing by behind her.

  “Sherlock,“ we both answered simultaneously.

  Victoria laughed brightly in response and shook her head. “I’ll be the last person to deny that. Come on now, we will be arriving shortly.”

  “Leave your things on the ship, doctor,” I advised as I rose to my feet. “We will take only weapons and the most necessary items. Everything else will slow us down. If we move quickly, and without any hindering baggage, we should be able to reach the ritual site before nightfall.”

  The doctor nodded his agreement and I left his cabin together with Victoria. We entered our individual cabins and gathered what little we would take with us on the journey through the desert. This was a highly irregular venture, and I had never walked into the Sahara like this before. I couldn’t deny the anxiety that spread through every corner of my mind, but I could perfectly well ignore it.

  Victoria was in conversation with the captain of the ship in the front of the boat as I joined her. We had arrived, but just as planned, we weren’t in any port.

  “Dr. Watson, are you ready?” Victoria asked him as he approached us. “We will use the boat to reach the shore and go on from there. As this expedition is no longer under the protection of the agency, we are on our own. The ship was chartered privately by Mycroft and will remain here until we return.”

  “And if we don’t return?” Watson asked.

  “They will wait for three days and then they’re free to go.”

  “Don’t worry, doctor,” I smiled and put a hand on his shoulder. “Even without the support of the Service, we’ll still be able to do our best.”

  “Is Sherlock Holmes worth nothing to them?”

  I refrained from commenting, as I was sure that Bates wouldn’t take kindly to me telling everyone about her insubordinate deed in favour of my brother.

  Victoria shrugged. “If we were in London, I believe you would find enough supporters to help us out. Maybe even in Belgium or Norway.”

  “Ah, yes, Norway. That would be possible,” Watson nodded. “I guess you’re right. Egypt is too far away to have been touched by his influence. Even the illustrious detective has places where no one knows of him. If only they would sell the Strand Magazine here.”

  Victoria laughed. “You should suggest that to your editor.”

  “Are you two ready?” I asked curtly.

  They turned to me with both hope and distress on their faces and accepted the small backpacks I handed out, as well as a big piece of cloth, which was to be used as a cloak, with a hood attached.

  “It may be winter, and the temperatures are not as high, but the sun is still relentless in the desert. I suggest you wear the cloak to protect yourself,” I explained. “The backpack contains water and some rations, though not much. I don’t expect us to be in the sandy expanse for more than two days.”

  “Do you have any idea what we might find?” the doctor asked, while he shouldered his pack. “Not that I don’t trust your memory of the description in the scroll.”

  “I have been asking that myself. I searched all the maps I could lay my hands on while we were still in Alexandria, but the place described in the hieroglyphs is in a rocky, lifeless area, in the midst a hilly region with no discernible features. There is not an oasis or similar landmark even close to the spot. No special place recorded in any archaeological records, nothing mentioned in the few descriptions of the Desert Wind cult or the temples of Seth that I could turn up.”

  “That doesn’t sound very promising,” he countered.

  “Indeed, it does not. The only way to find out is to go there ourselves. I have a compass and can find the right coordinates with the help of the sun,” I assured him. “The only problem is time. If I have deciphered the ritual description correctly, the sacrifice will be undertaken when the moon rises above the horizon, which happens very early tonight and should give us only roughly twelve hours to find Sherlock.”

  “Child’s play,” Victoria joked and I just shook my head.

  We all boarded the boat, but none of the crew would join us. They would wait for us here until we returned. It would cost me extra, sure, but that little money was nothing I was concerned with now.

  “The workers refuse to set feet on the eastern bench of the Nile here. There are stories of evil spirits that cling to you and bring misfortune,” Victoria explained as Watson asked why we were left to our own devices.

  “We can take this as a good sign that shows we are on the right path,” I shrugged. “Seth is the god of calamity. Maybe some old knowledge transformed into this superstition.”

  “I’ll take it as encouragement then, and not as a vision of doom,” Watson sighed.

  “Why, doctor, you’re being quite dramatic today,” Victoria said as she took her place opposite to mine and grabbed an oar.

  “We’re about to venture out into the Sahara to stop a cult from using
my friend as a ritual sacrifice. This is plenty dramatic already.”

  And just like that we were all on the shore, checked our equipment one last time, dragged the boat to land and concealed it between the reeds just in case. I pulled out the compass to find the right direction for us to start off in and then took a last look around. Behind us flowed the Nile, the majestic river, which had built the Egyptian empire and sustained it for hundreds, if not thousands of years. On the other side, I could see fields of green and small houses shielded by large palm trees. On our side, there was only a small band of vegetation, which terminated all too soon and gave way to a rocky plain with light sand and dark rocks, looking every bit as unwelcome to life as possible.

  “This is the way, if the hieroglyphs are to be trusted. If not, we’ll walk into the desert for nothing and will likely never see Sherlock again.”

  “No need to be so cheerful, Mycroft,” Victoria snarked. “I am aware that Moriarty gambled on us finding his hideout in Alexandria, so the instructions might be falsified, but they looked proper to me.”

  “No way to find out now but to go in,” Watson sighed.

  I handed each person piece of paper, inscribed with an identical map of the region, the ritual place marked with the unambiguous X - in case we got separated. Then I made a show of double-checking our water supplies and clothing status. My nervousness showed during the process. Victoria grew silent and adopted a faraway look in her eyes, stared into the direction in which Sherlock was supposedly being held. Watson seemed to have sunk into himself.

  Our tentatively cheerful mood was replaced by a grim determination as we began the trip through the rocky plain, towards the low hills in the distance. The sun was not yet at full strength, but it already promised to be a hot and uncomfortable day. I had volunteered to take the lead, with Watson right behind me and Victoria at the rear to make sure he wouldn’t get lost.