The Londum Omnibus Volume One (The Londum Series Book 4)

by Tony Rattigan

  ‘We both know that’s not going to happen. Besides, what about Harlequin, aren’t you meant to be rescuing him?’

  ‘To hell with Harlequin. He got himself into this bother, I should leave him to get himself out of it.’

  ‘You know you have to go.’

  ‘I suppose you’re right,’ agreed Cobb, grudgingly and let go of Thornton’s hand. ‘See you around … you’d better be here when I get back.’

  ‘You can count on it.’

  Cobb left the bedroom and stood on the landing, his knuckles white as he gripped the banister, struggling to control his tears. After a few moments he wiped his eyes with his handkerchief, composed himself and went down to join Adele in his office.

  ***

  Cobb and Adele stood in the middle of Cobb’s office, holding hands. He had said his farewells to Thornton and even Won Lungh and now he was saying his final farewell to her. He leaned forward and their foreheads touched. They stood like that for a moment until Columbine cleared her throat politely in the background.

  ‘Are you sure you don’t want me to come along?’ Adele asked him.

  ‘I’m relying on you to come and rescue me if it all goes wrong.’

  ‘Have you got everything you need?’

  He let go of her hands and picked up his overcoat. ‘I think so.’ He put on the coat and reached into his pockets. He pulled out his revolver and from the other pocket he pulled out spare ammunition. ‘Well, I’ve got my gun and the things that make it go bang. That’s about it I suppose.’

  ‘You’ll probably need this as well,’ said a voice from behind him. He turned around and saw Columbine standing there, holding up a small leather bag.

  ‘What’s in there?’ he asked her.

  ‘Gold nuggets,’ she replied. ‘There is no point in giving you any currency as they won’t be using the same type but everyone knows the value of gold.’ She threw him the bag.

  Adele handed him a leather satchel with a strap so he could wear it over his shoulder. ‘I’ve made you some food to take with you.’

  He took it and hugged her again. ‘I’ll come back as soon as I can but don’t fret if it takes a while.’

  ‘Promise me you’ll come back safe.’

  ‘I promise that will be my top priority.’

  He turned to face Columbine. ‘Okay then, let’s do this before I change my mind.’

  She stepped up to him and put a hand on each of his arms. ‘Thank you for this,’ she whispered.

  Cobb looked over her shoulder and winked at Adele.

  She watched closely as Columbine began to change Cobb’s molecular frequency. Cobb slowly faded from view until Columbine was standing there on her own with her arms stretched out.

  She slowly turned around and faced Adele. ‘Well, that’s it. All we can do now is wait. I would suggest we pray for him but the Gods are the last people we want to know what is going on here.’

  Adele asked her, ‘Why do you and Harlequin wear those crazy clown’s outfits?’

  ‘It’s just a little affectation of Harlequin’s. I go along with it just to please him. Wouldn’t you do things to please your man?’

  Adele replied coldly, ‘I’m a witch; you don’t want to know what I would do for Cobb. Pray that you never find out.’

  Columbine got the message. Although Adele had been instrumental in convincing Cobb to go after Harlequin, it didn’t mean that she enjoyed Cobb leaving her and going into danger. Although she had agreed to help Columbine it didn’t mean that she had to like it or Columbine.

  Columbine looked her in the eye, ‘I understand. You have my gratitude anyway.’ With that she clicked her fingers and disappeared.

  ***

  Cobb looked around him. He had half expected to be in a similar house to the one he had left but he was actually out in the street. He looked up and down the road. It was a mud lane with a fair amount of straw scattered around. The houses were just wattle and daub, the type that he had only seen in Londum, where they had been preserved as a historical oddity.

  This was the problem with moving between Universes. A structure may exist in the Universe you left and not be there in the one that you went to. Fortunately, a lot of the time in Cobb’s dimension shifting experience, places were the same but not always, occasionally when he had jumped unconsciously for self-preservation, he had been upstairs in a building that wasn’t present in the world he arrived in. One time he ended up in a tree that just happened to be at the right height that he had appeared at. Another time he had taken a long fall into a haystack. There was no telling what might happen, it was just pot luck really. This was why he was reluctant to attempt it too often; there was no telling where he might end up. If the layout was radically different he could end up lodged in a wall and that didn’t bear thinking about! In this instance the layout of the buildings and streets were so different from where he had left, that by good fortune he had arrived into the empty area of a street.

  Just out of curiosity, he kicked around in the straw near where he was standing and yes, there it was, his pencil. ‘Well, I’ll be damned,’ he said to himself. Picking up the pencil, he put it in his pocket as a Good Luck charm.

  He walked along the street looking curiously at the people. They weren’t dressed the way he was, they looked more like Quakers. The men wore frock coats and knee-length breeches. On their heads many of them wore stovepipe hats. The women wore dowdy, brown or grey dresses; with those little white bonnets that tied up under the chin.

  As he passed an open street he could see as far as the river. There were sails visible so he thought to head down there, it seemed to be the centre of everything so maybe he could find out some information there.

  As he walked through the streets he couldn’t help but notice how small the whole place seemed. In his world, Londum was the capital of Albion, a busy, vibrant city populated with large, majestic buildings and thoroughfares. What he saw around him here didn’t amount to much more that a fishing port. Most curious.

  He soon reached the docks and stood there for a while watching the ships being loaded and unloaded.

  This wasn’t what he had been expecting. He realised that he could actually see the city limits on the far side of the river. Not the great capital he had been expecting, just a river port where the goods came in and out. Very disappointing.

  Columbine had said that all she knew was that Harlequin was being held in the capital. Well it obviously wasn’t here. He would have to speak to someone sooner or later to find out where that was, so he might as well start now.

  He chose one of the dock foremen, who was standing on the quay, organising a ship being unloaded.

  ‘Excuse me, I wonder if you could tell me exactly where we are and what the name of that river is?’

  The foreman looked at him strangely and replied, ‘Whist be ye coming from stranger? Ye bain’t from round these parts, be ye?’

  ‘No … er … I er … bain’t from round these … er … parts.’

  ‘Where be ye from then?’

  Cobb pointed vaguely down the river.

  ‘You come up the River Thane? Oh, you’m likely be a Francorman then, that explains thy strange manner of speech.’

  ‘That’s right yes … I be a Francorman.’

  (Author’s note: Okay, everyone talking like this could take all night and I’ve got somewhere to be, later. Tell you what, let’s pretend that this book you are holding is a Universal Translator just like in Star Trek ™ and everything they say is translated into ordinary language so that you and I can understand it. That will save us all a lot of time won’t it?)

  ‘Well, this is the port of Londis,’ said the foreman.

  ‘So this isn’t the capital then?’

  ‘Bless you no. The capital of Angleland is Brimidgham. It’s inland, about a hundred and twenty miles from here.’

  Funny that, it was called Brimidgham in Cobb’s Universe too. He guessed that everything didn’t have to be different. ‘Brimidgham eh? How d
o I get there?’ asked Cobb.

  ‘Well, there’s no stagecoach service from here. You could try them carters over there that are taking the goods off these ships. Some of them are bound to be going that way.’

  ‘Okay, I’ll give them a try. Thanks very much for your help.’

  ‘God bless you son and may the Good Lord look after you.’

  ‘Er … yeah, thanks, you too!’

  Cobb wandered over to the carters and asked around until he found someone who was heading in the general direction of Brimidgham but unfortunately he wasn’t going all the way, only as far as Cofatree. This threw Cobb until he realised that if the geography was the same as in his Universe, then the carter must be referring to Covington, which was about twenty miles away from Brimidgham. That would have to do, so Cobb and the carter made a deal, assisted by one of Columbine’s little gold nuggets.

  ‘I have a delivery to make in Oxnaford so we will have to go there first,’ the carter told him. ‘The route will take us through High Wickham and then after Oxnaford we’ll go to Banbar and then on to Cofatree. I hope you’re not in a hurry to get there.’

  Cobb thought, Nah, it was only Harlequin, he could wait. ‘That will be fine,’ he said. ‘I can pay you for this.’

  ‘That’s all right, said the carter. ‘Just help out with the horses and pay for your own food and lodging and that will be okay.’

  ‘That might be a little awkward. I’ve only got gold nuggets to pay my way. Might be a bit difficult trying to pay for a single meal with those. How about I give you a nugget and then you take care of all the expenses along the way? Make it easier for everyone.’ He reached into his pocket and pulled out a fair sized nugget.

  The carter’s eyes glittered like the gold and he took the nugget, weighed it in his hand, bit it and then nodded, satisfied it was genuine. He said, ‘That’s fair enough, you have a deal. I’ll be a while loading, just take a seat over there and I’ll give you a shout when I’m done.’

  While waiting for the carter to finish loading his cart with goods, Cobb found a quiet spot to sit on some barrels. He sat there unnoticed and watched the world go by while he waited for the carter. It would be the first time he had spent any length of time in another Universe. Usually, once he’d realised that he had jumped to a new place, he had a bit of a look round and then went back to where he came from. But here he was, actually planning on spending some time here. What an adventure this might turn out to be. One that he would survive he hoped.

  He looked around at the buildings and the people milling about. Frankly he was puzzled, everything seemed like they had been in Albion several hundred years ago. It was as if time was running more slowly here or alternately, something had frozen the advancement of humanity at a point several hundred years earlier.

  Well, that could happen he supposed. The things that had shaped his world may not have happened in other worlds. He had seen similarities between his world and others he had visited and always assumed that they were almost carbon copies of each other. That may have been the case at the start he guessed, but if history had run differently on each of these alternate Universes, then over the centuries the difference could have become huge.

  Finally, the carter finished packing his cart and waved to Cobb, disturbing his ruminations. Cobb went over and climbed aboard and after stashing his satchel amongst the bales of cloth the man had picked up, climbed up onto the wide, driver’s seat and sat next to him. Then they set off.

  ***

  Cobb studied the houses and watched the people as the cart drove out of Londis. He couldn’t get over how quaint and old fashioned they all looked, like some theme park.

  ‘My name’s Tom Harris,’ said the carter, holding out his hand.

  ‘Mine’s Rufus Cobb, but just call me Cobb, and thanks again for giving me a ride,’ shaking the proffered hand.

  ‘Don’t mention it,’ replied the carter. After a pause he said, ‘You talk funny and you wear strange clothes.’

  Er … I’m a Francorman.’ It seemed to Cobb that just pretending to be a foreigner would be the simplest way to explain all the discrepancies that people would notice about him.

  ‘Oh, Francorman, that explains it. So what brings you to Angleland, then?’

  ‘Oh, just having a look around. See the world, broaden my horizons you know.’

  ‘Don’t get many of you Francormen around here. To be honest, I don’t think I’ve ever seen one before.’

  ‘But Gaul … I mean Francor is just across the water,’ Cobb said, puzzled. ‘I’d have thought that you get hundreds of us visiting Londis.’

  Tom shook his head.

  ‘But then, I imagine lots of you go over there?’

  ‘Bless you no, Cobb. No one goes over there except the merchant ships and they are commanded by Castilian captains. Not even the fishing boats are allowed to land there. A place of great ungodliness and heathen pagans, so we’re told.’

  ‘Well, what about the Nederlands?’

  ‘Even worse … Protestants!’ exclaimed Tom. ‘At least the Pagans can be forgiven for not knowing about God, but to actually believe in him and refute the One True Religion to worship him in a heretical manner is beyond forgiveness, in my opinion.

  ‘But that’s for them to deal with when they go to hell and have to explain it. But as for you being a Pagan, I’ll expect you to behave yourself while you are on my cart. Just remember, while you’re here in Angleland you’re amongst decent God fearing folk.’

  Cobb looked at him to see if he was joking but it didn’t look like it so he replied, deadpan, ‘I’ll bear that in mind Tom, don’t worry I won’t do anything to embarrass you.’ He wondered if there were many like Tom in Angleland or had he just had the misfortune to hook up with a religious nutter.

  It was around thirty or so miles to High Wickham, so the trip took two days as the two horses pulling the fully laden wagon were getting on in years and could only manage twelve to fifteen miles per day. The first night they camped by the side of the road and Tom fed him with cold meats and they slept in the wagon and guarded the contents.

  On the road to High Wickham, Cobb had chance to observe the land as they drove across it and the villages that they passed through. They were all to his surprise, rural communities. There were no signs of any heavy industry or intensive farming. Just ‘one man and his dog’ affairs. Very puzzling.

  It reminded him of a sect that he had read about in a magazine once. They had totally eschewed the idea of modern living and had refused to use any industrial devices like steam engines, trains or even piped gas and water. They preferred the simple, religious life. They lived in a remote part of Caledonia and were called the “Hamish People”.

  It was getting dark on day two, when they approached High Wickham. Cobb was waiting to see what it was like. He was curious to see if a small town was any different in style from the villages or just the same but larger. Unfortunately the latter was the case. There was just one hostelry in the town and you could practically see from one end of the town to the other.

  Cobb was disappointed. In his world it had grown into quite a decent sized market town, aided by the tourist attraction of the “Hellfire Caves”.

  (In the middle of the 18th century, clubs for the young rakes of Albion had sprung up all around the country. The most famous of these was Sir Francis Dashwood’s club, set up in what became known as the Hellfire Caves at High Wickham. It became so popular due to its proximity to Londum, enabling the young bucks of the ruling elite to visit regularly.

  It was known to be a place where “wine, women and song” were compulsory, not just tolerated. Every known vice was available there, lechery, debauchery, licentiousness, drug taking, drunkenness, smoking indoors, you name it, it all went on there.)

  Cobb wondered if anything like that had ever happened here. ‘Are there any caves around here?’ he asked innocently.

  ‘Indeed there are,’ replied Tom. ‘They hold large prayer meetings there every weekend. I�
�ve even attended a few myself when I’ve been passing through. God be praised.’

  ‘God be praised,’ echoed Cobb.

  After they settled the horses in the stable (Cobb was able to help out here as he had spent some time in the Mounted Division of the Metropolitan Police) they went in to the inn and after settling in their rooms they met up, down in the bar and ordered a meal.

  ‘And what would you like to drink with that?’ asked the serving girl.

  ‘Do you have any decent wines or good ales?’ asked Cobb.

  ‘Sorry, what are wines and ales?’ she asked him.

  ‘You know, drink, booze … alcohol!’

  The girl looked shocked and Tom had to butt in, ‘Don’t mind him, he’s a foreigner, a Francorman. What do you have to drink?’

  ‘Water, apple juice and pear juice,’ she listed.

  ‘We’ll take two apple juices,’ said Tom. After the girl had gone Tom admonished him. ‘I warned you about your heathen ways. We don’t abide with alcohol in Angleland, it’s the devil’s water. I suggest you don’t ask for it again.’

  ‘What? Is it everyone or just you that doesn’t like alcohol?’

  ‘It’s illegal to produce it, import it or drink it. So it’s everyone.’

  ‘Okay, no problem. Well, that’s why I’m here, to learn other people’s way, no harm meant,’ Cobb answered amiably, while inside he was groaning. What a boring bunch of self-righteous nitwits ran this country. Oh well, he was only here for the journey to Brimidgham. Then he could find Harlequin and get out of here.

  ***

  Next morning after breakfast, Cobb helped Tom harness up the two horses and then they set off. Next stop Oxnaford.

  Once again, the next leg of their journey was a two-day trip, so to pass the time along the way, Cobb took the opportunity to grill Tom about the history of Angleland. He was curious about how it had got into the state of religious madness it seemed to be sunk into. Tom, in the belief he was helping to convert a heathen, was only too happy to tell him about it.