The Spellbinder (Tom & Laura Series), page 16
Dawn smiled. “Aye, wi’d be better talking than blubbin’. Esme brew us some tea.”
“A got to get back,” Fred said. He dashed out of the hut leaving them alone with the women.
Dawn sat down and told them about the history of smuggling. The village had been doing it for longer than anyone could remember. Earning money for luxuries in good times and keeping families from starving in the bad.
The whole village was involved in it. The Revenuers visited and searched the village at regular intervals, but the only real danger was being caught at sea before the boats reached the safety of Smugglers Cove.
The cove had been in use long before Hobsgate was built. The house had been built by a villager who returned from the city a rich man. He incorporated the end of the tunnel into his cellars and it was business as usual.
He helped them make fools of the Revenue men. Not that he smuggled himself, but he knew how much it meant to the village and he found it fun to tweak the Revenue’s noses as they raged at the corruption of the locals. When they found barrels of brandy in his cellar he claimed he’d bought them from smugglers and the Revenue took his house as forfeit. Only the fishermen knew the route through the Devil’s Teeth into the cove and the tunnel remained a secret.
“Couldn’t somebody have followed them?” asked Laura, guessing that somebody must have, somehow.
Dawn shook her heard. “Tha’d need a ghost boat to do it. A boat th’t made no sound and no hull t’ see agin t’ sky. Nay, it couldn’t be done.”
Laura thought differently, but she did not voice her beliefs. ‘It must be possible; maybe a Spellbinder could do it.’ She considered various transformations that might work. She could turn into a bird and follow them, but without knowing what sight-lines they were using to change course, one bit of water looks very much like another. She wondered if she could make a boat and all the people in it transparent like glass. It seemed unlikely.
Laura was getting hungry. She opened the hampers and invited Esme and Dawn to join them. The hampers contained cooked meats, bread and butter, and wine to help wash it down. It was towards the end of the meal that they heard the first shot. Birds took to wing from the trees sounding like a ripple of applause.
The sound of a pistol shot might carry a mile in the country especially when the air was as still as it was just then, but this sounded louder than a pistol and somehow much more sinister. They waited in silence, putting down their food, which none of them now felt like eating. There was a second shot, then a short period of silence.
A few minutes later there was a strange rattling sound. As the fisherman had said, it sounded like many rifles firing rapidly one after the other. It wasn’t that loud, but it was distinctive and frightening.
Tom and Laura looked at each other and thought about their friends back at Hobsgate.
The two women crossed themselves and Esme began to sob.
Chapter 23 In Cold Blood
Cam and Daisy returned to the dorm convinced that someone in the room would question their absence. Cam had formulated a long and complicated story about where they had been. However, though the room was filled with people, nobody paid the slightest attention to them. Instead the dorm was buzzing with rumors about the impending visit. Someone had heard that the Headmaster was about to retire and that Bertie himself would present him with a knighthood or perhaps a peerage.
“Have you seen the soldiers?” Tompkins asked, to a response of shaken heads. “They are wearing a black uniform I’ve never seen before. They were moving some large metal contraption into the mess.”
“It’s a projection device,” Leon said knowingly. “I’ve heard that with the help of a Spellbinder you can use them to show moving pictures that you would swear were the real thing. I expect it’s all for the Prince of Wales’s benefit.”
“Maybe the soldiers are there to protect the Prince?” Daisy suggested. “They’d hardly send soldiers to guard a picture machine.”
Tompkins sighed. “The only thing I know for certain is that the Headmaster is in charge of them. I saw him directing them into the Mess.”
Emma Jones interrupted their conversation. She had just entered the room and had a piece of paper in her hands. She looked full of herself.
“I have an important message from Dr. Fines.”
“Why can’t you call him ‘Headmaster’ like everyone else?” Cam asked, thinking it was just like Emma to use the Headmaster’s name rather than his title.
“Dr. Fines wants everybody to know that there will be a meeting in the Mess after dinner that we must all attend. Anybody not present will be publically caned at the earliest opportunity.” Emma lowered her voice to a whisper. “The servants have the same instructions. They have to be there too.”
“Well, you would know all about public canings, Emma,” Cam said cruelly and Emma blushed.
“Just be there, Burns,” she said and left to spread the word.
“Have anybody seen Miss Young or Carter?” Snood asked the students in the dorm room. It was just gone three o’clock and he sounded anxious. Cam admired his acting skills. If she didn’t know better, she would have been sure he was genuinely concerned about finding them. He gave every impression of being a worried man.
“Weren’t they with you, Burns?” Leon asked and every eye focused on Camilla.
“Haven’t seen them since the end of Trench’s lesson this morning. They said they were going to take the air…, on their own.”
Somebody made an oowing sound followed by a burst of ribald laugh.
“Aren’t they a bit young for that sort of thing?” Emma asked.
“Not out in the country,” Leon said to giggles. “At it like rabbits from the age of twelve, from all I hear.”
Snood’s face had reddened as the banter flowed and he shouted like a parade ground sergeant.
“Be quiet. Has anybody seen them since this morning?”
There was silence at the anger in his voice followed by the shaking of a lot of heads. Snood snarled and left the room.
“Ace acting,” Cam said admiringly under her breath.
Snood and the Headmaster entered the Headmaster’s study together at six o’clock that evening. The Captain was waiting, sat in the Headmaster’s chair with his knee high black leather boots on the desk. He did not look pleased.
“So where is she then?” He was angry, of that there could be not the trace of a doubt.
“Gone, her and the Carter boy too, Not a sign of them anywhere,” the Headmaster said. He sat down heavily; exhausted by the thorough search of the buildings he had carried out with Snood.
“Gone where?” the Captain said, his voice smooth as silk.
“Who knows? Normally I’d say not to worry, they may have got lost in the woods or wandered down to the village, but with things as they are…” the Headmaster’s voice trailed off, his accent having reverted to American before he finished.
“I warned you, Snood.” The Captain stood and walked around the desk to stand with his face inches away from Snood’s. Snood smelled the foul odor of chewing tobacco on the Captain’s breath, it made him feel sick. The Captain pulled his gun from the holster hanging low on his leg and cocked its hammer with his thumb. Snood looked death in the face as the long barrel pointed straight between his eyes.
“If you would prefer to kill me rather than the enemy, go ahead...”
Snood saw the Captain’s trigger finger twitching and knew the risk he took, but he would rather die here and now than put up with the man’s threats. The Captain was obviously near to insanity.
“Put the gun down, Bren,” the Headmaster spoke with weary authority. “If the boss sees you, well you know what will happen.”
The Captain used his thumb to slowly reset the hammer and put the gun back into his holster.
“You saw her this morning?” the Captain asked Snood suspiciously.
“Yes, to tell her I needed to see her at three o’clock. There were no lessons planned for this afternoon, so she needed to be told.”
“I hate Spellbinders. I fucking hate them all.” The Captain slammed his palms on the Headmaster’s desk and went back to his chair.
The Headmaster leant against the bookshelves and idly flicked his fingers across the titles before he spoke. “It’s almost time for the evening meal. You come in as soon as everyone is assembled. Your men must be in place and ready.”
The Captain gave a smile that almost looked like joy.
“I know the damned plan; it’s mine after all. My men have been told what to do; you don’t need to worry about them. Just be sure all those nice little student spies are in the room, ready and waiting.”
It was a little after seven o’clock and the students were waiting impatiently for the meeting to start. The last of the plates had been cleared and the servants had assembled nervously by the door to the kitchens.
The students, teachers and servants faced a large clear area at the front of the room. On the left of the area sat the machine that Tompkins had talked about. Standing about four foot high, it was mounted on a tripod and covered with sacking. Two men in black uniforms stood near it, staring at the assembled people with cold eyes that warned them to stay well clear.
Daisy and the other Precogs were as far to the back of the room as it was possible to get. They gave the impression that if they could have moved the walls further back they would have done so. Daisy had pulled Cam along with her at the end of the meal.
Leon stayed where he was, having joined their table for the meal. When people moved in front of him he pushed past them to get to the front. That was where Cam would have been if Daisy hadn’t dragged her to the back.
The teachers and the house staff were also at the back of the room on the other side from the Precogs. They looked a little concerned.
The Captain pushed through the doors at the front of the room getting everybody’s attention, if only by his unusual attire and swagger. Snood and the Headmaster followed him into the room. There was a pensive silence.
“Line up so the Captain can see you,” the Headmaster commanded and those at the front formed a line similar to on a parade ground, standing at attention.
The Captain walked down the line of students. He stopped next to Leon and looked at the assembled multitude. He waved to the two men by the device and they uncovered it. If it was a projector, it was a strange one. It looked for all the world like a set of rifle barrels mounted lengthways on a couple of small wheels balanced on a tripod. One of the men stood at the back, his hand on a crank handle. The other man knelt behind the machine and held a strange belt level with the back end of the barrels.
The Captain spoke and there was pride in his voice.
“That, ladies and gentlemen, is a symbol of American ingenuity and why one day soon we will chase you limeys back into the Atlantic Ocean.”
Some of the students began to whisper. “That is a Gatling gun, invented by Dr. Richard Gatling of the great State of Indiana. It may not look like much, but it deals out death at two hundred rounds a minute.” He smiled at his audience. “Took us a mite of effort to persuade him to give up the prototype, but I expect he’ll make another one soon enough.”
“Now as to why I’m here, I’m here to have a little talk with that Prime Minister of yours. Just the two of us, about getting back New York and everywhere north of it you took from us. Your Prince of Wales now, he’s just something we got lucky on. I expect his presence will help our negotiations along just fine.”
The Captain’s face hardened and it seemed to Leon, who stood only two feet from him, that there was more than a hint of madness in his eyes.
“But before we get down to being friends, I just got to make clear about whose in charge and things like that. I do believe that you had a little Miss Class A here in this institute and I’d surely like to know where she’s at.” He looked at Leon, “You know where she’s at, boy?”
“No, sir,” Leon whispered. He was scared and almost lost his voice.
“The boy says no, well then I ain’t got no further use for him.” The Captain pulled his gun and shot Leon through the head. The Captain’s gun was a Colt Dragoon, loaded with 50 grains of black power and firing a .44 caliber lead round. The force of the shot threw Leon’s body into the other students as the back of his head exploded into a millions pieces of blood and gore. Some of the girls began to scream.
The Captain fired another round into the air. The teachers began to move towards him, but the Headmaster waved them back. They stopped, confused as to what they should do.
“Now then, how many of you do I have to shoot before somebody tells me what happened to the little Spellbinder girl?”
Nobody spoke.
“Guess I’ll count me to three or four before I make me another object lesson.”
“They went out with picnic baskets, around noon,” Lidia Jones said from near the front. “They went into the woods, Young and Carter.” Lidia was crying as she spoke, a little bit of Leon’s brains rolled down her face, a lot more of it was in her hair.
“Well, I guess we’ll round ‘em up soon enough.”
The Captain was smiling again as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. “Now, Headmaster, I want you and Snood here to bring all the boys and girls with Spellbinder skills out here where I can give them a good look-see.” The Captain indicated that the Spellbinders should congregate by the double doors.
They were fourteen Spellbinders among the students, split evenly between girls and boys. They were cajoled by Snood and the Headmaster from out of the crowd and made to stand by the doors. They looked terrified. The Captain went over to them and put his face close to a nineteen year old girl called Fay James.
“Boo! Look at you jump little lady,” the Captain smiled at Fay who had nearly fainted. “Look at this, I’ve got me a dozen Spellbinders just here. There ain’t that many in the whole of the United States of America.”
He stopped smiling. “If there was, you British wouldn’t be holding half my country enslaved.”
The Captain started smiling again as he walked around the room. He stopped by the two men with the Gatling gun. “It’s only fittin’ you all should get a tryout of my Gatling gun on British soil.” He nodded to his men who opened fire on the Spellbinders. Everybody else in the room dived for the floor. Of the teaching staff, only Snood and the Headmaster remained standing.
The firing seemed to go on forever. The doors behind the students were shredded as the rounds tore through the students and then through English oak. The silence that followed was almost as shocking as the firing. The six barrels of the gun oozed smoke and there was a thick haze of gun-smoke around the soldiers.
The Captain sounded like a preacher speaking at the end of a sermon.
“Let that be a lesson on what will happen if you defy me. Go to your rooms and stay there. Anybody caught trying to leave their room will be shot.” He looked at the servants, “You bring my men food and then stay in your quarters. This doesn’t concern you.”
The teachers milled around uncertain as to what they should do. The Captain looked over at them. “I need you for my plan. We don’t want to have to kill the Prime Minister or Prince Bertie do we? Go to your rooms, stay there and try nothing. I’ll send for you when I need you.”
The Captain walked towards the double doors, one now hanging from a single broken hinge. He carefully stepped over the pooling blood of the dead as though it was water. He turned back to the Headmaster. “And get the servants to clean this mess. We wouldn’t want to leave the place untidy, now would we?”
Chapter 24 Reactions
Snood leant against the bookshelf in the Headmaster’s study sipping a glass of Port and smoking a cigar. He looked totally relaxed and at peace with the world. This was a considerable deception on his part, as he felt sick to his stomach after what he had just witnessed in the Mess. It was difficult to maintain his composure in the company he had to keep, but it was also essential for his survival.
The Captain was telling the Headmaster a particularly dirty joke that involved a French maiden and a squirrel looking for somewhere to hide his nuts. The Headmaster was laughing dutifully at all the appropriate places. Both men appeared to be delighted with the way things had gone in the Mess. It was an attitude that Snood found chilling.
Snood knew that he was himself an evil man who lacked a conscience in most things. He had come to terms with who he was long ago and was no longer bothered at night by the faces of those he had killed. He performed a service that provided the money to buy the life he wanted and in the course of his work, people sometimes got killed. But he always felt something when he killed. Usually, he felt sick.
He would never have believed before this night that he was an innocent when it came to murder and that there are people whose capacity for evil far exceeded his own. He thought it a terrible misfortune that he was working with two of them. That the Captain had consumed enough whiskey to intoxicate a dozen men didn’t help Snood’s peace of mind one bit. The man was a loose cannon even when sober.
The Captain looked up at him and he realized his thoughts had made him miss the punchline of the Captain’s joke.
“My jokes no longer to your liking, Reynolds? Seems to me that you’ve gotten a mite snooty since they gave you that limey face. Not sure I like the new you.”
Snood jerked away from the wall as if he had been stung. It was imperative that these men did not question his identity. He needed a good excuse.
“I was thinking about what we should do about finding Laura Young. I’m sure your joke was as funny as they always are.”
“All taken care of.” The Captain waved his glass of whisky around in a graceful arc. “If she comes back here or goes to the railway station… Bang, she’s dead.”
The Captain seemed to find his words funny. “Bang and a Class A dies. As simple as that and one of them is dead. Who’d have thought it was that easy?”
