The two rode across the hilly fields for most of the afternoon until they reached the edges of the Oakwood Forest.
Lucious stared at the darkness of the close-knit trees, imagining ferocious women hunters moving between the blackened trunks. The sun wouldn’t set for a few more hours. “Thay say na jimmy wha enters th’ Oakwood at night haes e’er come back.
Lady Helena scoffed at the rumor. “And why would any man ever want to leave a forest full of women? Shuvani Ingraham and her clan keep to the heart of the woods, so that is where we are going. You may stay here if you wish.”
Lucious steeled his gaze and squared his shoulders. “It’ll tak’ mair than a few banshees tae friten me.”
With that, the two urged their ponies forward, following the dirt path between the foreboding trees. The sun sank lower in the sky as they moved deeper into the Oakwood. Lucious kept one hand on the curled Thomas Caddell pistol in his coat as they rode. His keen eyes spotted a young Romani woman standing in their way well before they reached her.
Se was a comely raven-haired woman, full figured and clothed in a purple and black dress with a plunging neckline. She wore a bright-purple headscarf that covered her dark braided hair. She was barefoot and all alone as far as Lucious could tell.
The woman raised a jeweled hand as the pair reigned up beside her. “Kushti divvus. My name is Majaris. Do you seek healing, or to commune with the dead?”
Lady Helena thought carefully about her answer before responding. “A bit of both, actually.”
Majaris nodded as if expecting this answer. “Then you seek the Shuvani. Follow me and I will lead you to her camp.”
The girl turned and walked off the road without waiting for agreement. Lucious and Lady Helena dismounted and followed, leading their horses on a narrow game trail winding between the bushes and trees. After several minutes of silent walking, they came to a clearing filled with Romani vardos. A team of brightly painted wagons formed a large semi-circle. At their center was a larger vardo adorned in carved, lacquered wood with gold trim.
Majaris nodded to the ornate vardo as she held out her hands for their reins. “I will watch your horses while you speak with the Shuvani.” She led their ponies away towards a makeshift wooden pen.
Lady Helena turned to Lucious. “I will speak with the Shuvani alone. Stay alert. And for God’s sake, stop stroking that pistol of yours.”
Lucious reluctantly removed his hand from his coat and nodded. Lady Helena climbed the three steps at the front of the vardo and knocked.
A moment later, a wispy voice answered. “Come in.”
Lady Helena straightened her hair and opened the door. The interior walls of the vardo shone with polished Wych Elm wood. Inside, heavy woven rugs hung from floor to ceiling, with a table draped with red silk cloth sitting in the middle. Dozens of candles cast flickering light about the room. The choking fumes of burning incense wafted everywhere.
An elderly woman sat at the table, slowly turning over cards thickly gilded in silver leafing. Each card featured an intricate painting of some fantastic scene. The woman wore a long-sleeved white linen shirt with a dark red bodice. Her long grey hair hung freely over her shoulders, her head covered with a red silk scarf interwoven with gold coins. Her eyes were the brightest objects in the room, which instantly put Lady Helena at unease. Would she help her?
The woman gestured to the open chair at the table. “Be seated. Tell me why you have come.”
Lady Helena mustered as much grace as she could and took up a chair at the table. “I am looking for Shuvani Ingraham.”
The old woman turned over a card with a magenta-winged Succubus lashing her whip across the back of some prostrated male farmers. She wrinkled her nose. “I have been called that name by some. But tell me of the answers you seek.”
Lady Helena smoothed her knickerbockers, reassured by the hard outline of the pistol beneath them. “If only I could ask some questions of my dear, departed friend Sage.”
Shuvani Ingraham flipped another card depicting Michelangelo as he painted the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel. The next card she turned featured the carved spoked wheel of the Romani people. “Was this friend born of the Romani people?”
That took Lady Helena by surprise. How could she know that? Perhaps she had guessed at the earthy tone of Sage’s name. “Yes, Holdsworth was her last name. Do you know it?”
The Romani fortuneteller hissed before her mouth fell back into a dangerous smile. “Our Dya’s were of the same line. Your words are like the slow drip of a wet stone on the floor of a dark cavern. What truth are you really here for?”
Lady Helena removed her lace handkerchief to dab the beads of sweat that had suddenly appeared on her brow. “I want to know about one of your Romani legends.”
The old woman tapped her long fingernails on a facedown card impatiently. “Speak.”
Lady Helena’s eyes moved to the unturned card lying beneath the other woman’s hand. “Is it true that the saliva of the Vârcolac will grant eternal life?”
Shuvani Ingraham’s hand flattened as she slapped the card and the table beneath it. “Do not speak of the Vârcolac! It does not exist. Why do you waste my time with this căcat?”
Lady Helena shrank back in response to her outburst. She looked the other woman straight in the eyes. “I have seen it myself,” came her slow whisper. “A friend of mine is blessed with eternal life and is cursed to transform into the beast whenever there is a full moon.”
The Romani matriarch fell into a profound silence. She looked down at the unrevealed card on the table for several moments before speaking. “Impossible. The Vârcolac cannot exist in harmony with a human soul.”
Lady Helena leaned forward, her eyes tracking the fortuneteller’s gaze. “Somehow, Sage Holdsworth was able to link the two beings together through a painting filled with her Romani magic.”
Shuvani Ingraham turned over the card on the table. It held a depiction of the Romani Vârcolac hunting human prey under a full moon. The woman threw the card on the ground and spat, making the sign of the evil eye with her left hand. “Go. I will not have this evil follow you to my clan.”
But Lady Helena sat motionless. “I am not leaving until you tell me how to help him. If Sage is your kin as you say, then your household is responsible for the creation of this monster. There must be some way to free him from this evil.”
The old Romani woman wrapped a shawl around herself as if she were suddenly cold. “I cannot help you. The ancient rites speak of a ritual which may separate evil from a man—but it is far too dangerous.”
Lady Helena unrolled a parchment on the table.
Shuvani Ingraham paused as her sharp eyes noticed Her Majesty’s seal on the document. “What is that?”
Lady Helena smiled, knowing that she had the woman’s full attention. “Aren’t you tired of living in the forest and wandering from town to town? This is a deed of property to a piece of land ten kilometers south of Newbridge. It is large enough for your entire clan to live out the rest of their days in peace. Help me and the land is yours.”
CHAPTER 26.
T
HE FORBIDDEN CITY
Hot fighting broke out against the Emperor’s Eight Banners over the next few days as the French and English forces pressed in on the city of Peking. Each Banner contained thousands of troops that engaged the French and English army in multiple skirmishes before retreating to safety through one of the many city gates. Lord Crawley promoted Dorian to Ensign and sent him to the places where the resistance was fiercest. His uncanny ability to locate and disable the Qing sharpshooters allowed the army to advance each time. Finally, they came within range of the imposing brick walls of the outer city.
The city was enormous and made Canton look like a small town. It was heavily fortified with cannons and an intricate system of walls, moats, and towers. In the center section, the walls were as high as seven meters and nearly twice as thick. The French and English guns concentrated their fire
on the defenses of the three southern gates.
On the third night, they received word that the Xianfeng Emperor had fled, leaving his brother to guard the holy city. The Chinese troops pulled back to the inner city. The French and English divided their forces and began to pillage the Old Summer Palace of Yuanmingyuan.
The soldiers took anything they could, preferring gold and porcelain treasures above all. The beauty and wealth of the palace was staggering. Dorian saw entire rooms filled with priceless artwork and untold riches. He looked around with a sad smile at the many paintings and silk tapestries that he once would have held with reverence. They were only objects though. He walked out of the Old Summer Palace empty handed, thinking only of Shen and her father.
After they had taken what they wanted, the English soldiers received orders from Admiral Seymour that they were to destroy the palace. Lord Captain Elgin vehemently objected to the edict and stormed off after a lengthy argument with the Admiral. The matter was settled nonetheless and the men proceeded to barricade in nearly three hundred eunuchs and maids before setting fire to the palace. It burned for three days and three nights. As a result, and under the pressure of constant shelling from the batteries, the great city gates finally swung open as Prince Gong surrendered.
The entire combined force passed through the double-eaved inner Zhengyangmen gate and entered the red walled Imperial City. The buildings were adorned with white marble, jade turtles, golden lions, and coiled red dragons. Dorian had never seen more beautifully landscaped gardens. Fat orange and yellow koi fish swam lazily in green lily ponds.
The men continued to loot as they passed under the five-arched Wumen Gate, coming at last to a door adorned with golden nails; they had reached the Forbidden City. They passed over a series of unnecessarily decorative bridges and climbed the white marble steps to the four-tiered palace of the Emperor. Huge bronze columns surrounded the opulent golden throne that now sat empty.
Prince Gong, disgraced and horrified that the same destruction might be visited on more of the Emperor’s palaces, ratified the Treaty of Tianjin, thus ending the war. England gained a permanent foothold in China. Tianjin once more opened as a port for the legalized opium trade, freedom of religion was established in China, and the Chinese agreed to pay eight million taels in indemnity to England and France. Within the week, the French and English troops would sail home, with Lord Crawley and Dorian among them.
* * *
That evening, Lord Crawley met with Dorian privately in his rooms in the Forbidden City. “I noticed you haven’t claimed any of the spoils of war for yourself. You truly are a changed man.”
Dorian looked at the many valuable treasures his friend had amassed and smiled. “You seem to have done well.”
Lord Crawley admired the many gold rings now adorning his hand. “I will return to London a decorated hero with enough money to pay off my debts and regain my family’s land.”
Dorian nodded. “And deservedly so. You have been a true friend. I wish you all the happiness in the world. But there is only one thing that interests me now.”
Lord Crawley turned to look out the palace window at the gardens below. “I have’nt been as good a friend as you think.”
Dorian laughed. “Don’t be so humble. You are a good man.”
Lord Crawley ripped the rings off his fingers and threw them to the ground. “A good man you say? Good like this Chinese farm girl you keep telling me about? A pity you can never be with her.”
Dorian’s eyes opened wide in surprise. “What do you mean?”
Lord Crawley spun and faced him. “We both know what you would do to the poor girl during the first full moon.”
Dorian spoke in a guarded tone. “I don’t know what you are talking about.”
Lord Crawley’s face turned red in rage. “Don’t play me for a fool! I have seen with my own eyes the demon that appears only when you are absent. I watched it kill my men and feared for my own life. Did you think I would not notice when you returned covered in blood but without a single scratch on you? I sent you into battle again and again, but you seem impervious to any harm. How many hundreds have you killed?”
Dorian lowered his head in shame. “I wanted to tell you…I...”
But Lord Crawley cut him off. “I don’t need your excuses. I have suspected for some time. I swore I would kill you for what you have done, but I have just received a letter from Lady Helena commanding us to return to London at once.”
Dorian felt staggered by the confession. Lord Crawley had lied to him. He must have ordered him into the field in Tongzhou hoping that the Mongol Cavalry or French and English artillery would end his life. He had never felt more betrayed in his life.
Lord Crawley raised his voice again. “Did you hear me? I said Lady Helena believes she has found a way to cure you.”
A surge of hope coursed through Dorian’s heart. “Found a cure?” It seemed beyond wonder. At least she had remained a friend. Perhaps she had figured out a way to end this nightmare and kept her promise.
Lord Crawley walked over to his desk and began writing a dispatch. “Killing you certainly hasn’t worked. This is our only hope left. We’ll leave tomorrow on the first ship to England. By the time your farm girl receives a letter from you, we will be days at sea.”
How he wished he could see her again. No, better to leave things between them as they were until he could be cured. If Lady Helena’s plan worked…he had to try, if not for Shen.
Dorian looked at the man he had once called an ally. “We must try. Thank you for that at least.”
Lord Crawley dismissed him curtly. “Keep your thanks, as long as it works and I am free of you forever.”
CHAPTER 27.
T
HE SPELL OF MAKING
The voyage back to London was mostly uneventful. Both men spent their time on separate parts of the ship. Dorian passed the time writing several letters to Shen explaining his quick departure and vowing to return. He wondered if she could read English as well as speak it. He kept busy by taking on an extra shift at the crow’s nest. The war had changed him, and he preferred solitude to the cheerful banter of Lieutenant Purcell. The young Lieutenant had also accompanied them along with Lord Captain Elgin on the H.M.S. Victory.
Lord Crawley had wagered a small fortune that the ship could not make it back before the next full moon. The Captain had risen to the challenge and pushed his ship to greater speed than any thought possible. After entering London Harbour, Dorian received his honorable discharge in the Paymaster’s heavy ledger under the name of Ensign Lynch. Lieutenant Paymaster Blundell begrudgingly added a bonus of eight pounds three under Lord Captain Elgin’s order. He and Lieutenant Purcell were there to see him off.
The Captain saluted Dorian and then extended his hand. “I hate to see a fine young lad like yourself go. Sure saved our arse many-a-time. Are you certain you won’t sign on for another year?”
Dorian smiled and shook the Captain’s hand. He was a fine skipper and an honorable commander. “Alas, no. I have business to attend to in England. But it has been an honor serving with you, my Lord Captain.”
Lieutenant Purcell moved in to shake Dorian’s hand. “You will be missed, my friend. Call on me whenever you have the need.”
The two men traded a private look and parted ways. Lord Crawley said his goodbyes and supervised the cargo hands as his heavy officer’s chest was loaded onto a waiting carriage. It no doubt contained many treasures he had taken in the war. He kept a close eye on it as Dorian boarded the same carriage. This was the only space that the two men had shared for the entire voyage. The silence was palpable as they travelled the long distance to Lady Helena’s estate.
Lord Crawley cleared his throat. “No offense intended, Dorian. It was just business, you understand.”
Dorian’s voice was ice as he responded. “Oh, I certainly understand about betraying your friends for a few gold coins. Did you forget who you were talking to?”
Lord Crawley seeme
d suddenly less confident now that the two men were alone. “Righto. It seems that I might have. Ah, do let me know how I can help with this supposed cure.”
Dorian stared at the man as he casually flexed the muscles in his right hand. “I know I can count on you to do the right thing.”
The carriage reached the estate of Lady Helena. Lucious stood outside to greet them with a look on his face as if tasked with cleaning out a foul smelling larder.
Dorian favored the brittle Scotsman with a warm smile. “Why, if it isn’t my favorite horticulturist.”
Lucious spat a glob of phlegm on the perfect cobblestones that he must have been hoarding for just this occasion. “Haud yer wee-shit 'n' come wi’ me.”
They followed Lucious inside and then down a flight of red brick steps. They exited the main house through a thick kingwood door and began walking down a long stone corridor. At about the halfway point Lucious stopped and began pushing against a section of the wall. It slid open with a creak. It was not a section of wall at all but a concealed doorway. Dark limestone steps led them underground for several meters.
A cold sweat broke out on Dorian’s brow. “Exactly what is this ‘procedure’ that Lady Helena has discovered?”
Lucious lit a gas lamp at the top of the steps and shrugged. “A dinnae ken. Follow me or dinnae. Th' mistress 'n' her streenge Romani mukker ur below.”
Lord Crawley and Dorian’s footsteps echoed as they continued down the steps. They entered a long room with a sunken fireplace in the middle; several smaller rooms ranged off to the side. It might have been a wine cellar once, but now resembled a dungeon. Wood burned brightly and Lady Helena sat by it alongside another older woman who Dorian had never seen before. It was a relief to see Helena again after being so long away from home. A smile formed on his lips.
Box Set: The Wolf of Dorian Gray Series: Books 1-3 Page 29
