Prologue 4 - Albert I
A Present - Albert - I
I stand absolutely still, nothing moving, not even any air into my dead lungs. The tunnel is quiet, but not silent. I can hear the scurrying of a couple of rats, and the incessant dripping of some liquid, likely water. I peer into the darkness, watching, listening. The two cubs at my side are impatient, but do their best to contain it. Even so, they wriggle in anticipation. For a moment I must admit the temptation to tease - but these two have done nothing to deserve my humour. They are earnest, and have been genuinely helpful in this hunt. Their names, as presented to me, are Stuart and Margaret - though as soon as her sire and lord had departed she referred to herself as Peggy. I almost pity the creature who created her.
I draw breath and speak, very softly. “Remember, your job is to distract and to delay. No heroics. Understood?”
Both nod. Stuart, of my Lord’s line, has a sabre at his side, a legacy of a former life. Peggy has no such military experience, or pretensions. I glance behind, and nod to Ariadne. She returns the gesture, and quickly readies the back-up crew. I know, somewhere, Rupert lurks.
I flex my fingers and draw another breath. “Three paces behind,” I state, and step into the darkness of the tunnel’s throat. The cubs lift their bulky lamps, and I grasp my cosh. Once within the deeper blackness I sharpen my senses - not as much as I might, but enough to show my way. The rats’ footfalls seem loud, and the dripping water tolls out like a church bell over a sleepy village. The tunnel itself goes back maybe forty yards, before the fill blocks it.
Ten paces and there is a new sound, just for a moment. I keep walking with slow deliberate strides. Five more paces in, six.
Another sound, out of place. A shift of gravel, a sound of pressure. I raise my cosh and the two cubs pause. Keeping my cosh raised, I take a stone from my belt pouch, and throw it forward.
Movement.
“Now,” I shout, and the cubs fumble briefly with their lamps. I dampen my vision as the harsh electric light shines towards the back half of the tunnel, and we see it - a moving shape that snarls and cries as it launches itself towards one of the lamps. Peggy’s. In its leap there is a hint of forgotten grace, a memory of something that may once have entranced. I turn, following its arc. Peggy darts to the side as the shape hits her lamp, shattering it, and what was diverting becomes a gibbering wreck. I thwack it with my cosh, the impact jarring my hand and up my arm. There is a scream. Stuart turns his lamp to follow the creature, whilst Peggy starts to shoot the thing with her revolver.
The creature screams again. It clutches at Peggy and she skips backwards. It is all the time I need. I feel my will fill me. I grasp the thing with my other hand, and thrust it to the ground. I hit it again with my cosh, and again.
The thing writhes: struggling and fighting. It is not enough. I lift a little and then ram it to the ground again. “Die,” I snarl at it and as my will fills me, and finally my cosh strikes its skull. There is a cracking sound as its head breaks. It still yells, still lives, but in that moment Stuart and Peggy have come beside me. Stuart hacks his sabre into the thing’s flesh, and then Peggy pierces it with a metal spike. The thing screams again in incoherence, but it is done.
I stand, letting go of my cosh, and wave them aside. I pick up the creature by its legs and hurl it against the tunnel roof. Bones and bricks both break. For a brief moment it almost seems stuck, and then it falls to the ground with a wet thump. Whatever is left lies still.
“Are you two alright?” I ask. There is still one lamp to see by, though already it grows dim as whatever damned thing powers it starts to run out. Stuarts nods, but I can see Peggy has a gash down one side.
“It got me,” she says, sounding remarkably calm for a cub who has nearly had her existence ripped out of her.
“Here!” I call out to those waiting outside. “She needs food,” I say to Ariadne, pointing at Peggy. She nods.
“Please come,” Ariadne says to her, and then taps one of the crew on the shoulder. Peggy glances at me and I nod. Meanwhile Rupert has arrived. “Burn it,” I say to him. A little paraffin and a match is all it takes. Seeing it done I turn and leave the tunnel. Peggy is already looking better.
“Ariadne, Rupert, search the place thoroughly and then fumigate it. I want no sign of this by sunrise. You two,” I point at Peggy and Stuart, “with me. It is time we report this success. You have done well, and I will tell your lordship such. If ever you are sent to London, and I am there, I would welcome your company.”
It is a poisoned offer, of course. Any such offer from me is - but it is still genuine. I like these two. I mean, we have nothing in common, but they have made me smile. But back to London it will be. Not tonight, and probably not tomorrow, but most likely the night after that.
I stand absolutely still, nothing moving, not even any air into my dead lungs. The tunnel is quiet, but not silent. I can hear the scurrying of a couple of rats, and the incessant dripping of some liquid, likely water. I peer into the darkness, watching, listening. The two cubs at my side are impatient, but do their best to contain it. Even so, they wriggle in anticipation. For a moment I must admit the temptation to tease - but these two have done nothing to deserve my humour. They are earnest, and have been genuinely helpful in this hunt. Their names, as presented to me, are Stuart and Margaret - though as soon as her sire and lord had departed she referred to herself as Peggy. I almost pity the creature who created her.
I draw breath and speak, very softly. “Remember, your job is to distract and to delay. No heroics. Understood?”
Both nod. Stuart, of my Lord’s line, has a sabre at his side, a legacy of a former life. Peggy has no such military experience, or pretensions. I glance behind, and nod to Ariadne. She returns the gesture, and quickly readies the back-up crew. I know, somewhere, Rupert lurks.
I flex my fingers and draw another breath. “Three paces behind,” I state, and step into the darkness of the tunnel’s throat. The cubs lift their bulky lamps, and I grasp my cosh. Once within the deeper blackness I sharpen my senses - not as much as I might, but enough to show my way. The rats’ footfalls seem loud, and the dripping water tolls out like a church bell over a sleepy village. The tunnel itself goes back maybe forty yards, before the fill blocks it.
Ten paces and there is a new sound, just for a moment. I keep walking with slow deliberate strides. Five more paces in, six.
Another sound, out of place. A shift of gravel, a sound of pressure. I raise my cosh and the two cubs pause. Keeping my cosh raised, I take a stone from my belt pouch, and throw it forward.
Movement.
“Now,” I shout, and the cubs fumble briefly with their lamps. I dampen my vision as the harsh electric light shines towards the back half of the tunnel, and we see it - a moving shape that snarls and cries as it launches itself towards one of the lamps. Peggy’s. In its leap there is a hint of forgotten grace, a memory of something that may once have entranced. I turn, following its arc. Peggy darts to the side as the shape hits her lamp, shattering it, and what was diverting becomes a gibbering wreck. I thwack it with my cosh, the impact jarring my hand and up my arm. There is a scream. Stuart turns his lamp to follow the creature, whilst Peggy starts to shoot the thing with her revolver.
The creature screams again. It clutches at Peggy and she skips backwards. It is all the time I need. I feel my will fill me. I grasp the thing with my other hand, and thrust it to the ground. I hit it again with my cosh, and again.
The thing writhes: struggling and fighting. It is not enough. I lift a little and then ram it to the ground again. “Die,” I snarl at it and as my will fills me, and finally my cosh strikes its skull. There is a cracking sound as its head breaks. It still yells, still lives, but in that moment Stuart and Peggy have come beside me. Stuart hacks his sabre into the thing’s flesh, and then Peggy pierces it with a metal spike. The thing screams again in incoherence, but it is done.
I stand, letting go of my cosh, and wave them aside. I pick up the creature by its legs and hurl it against the tunnel roof. Bones and bricks both break. For a brief moment it almost seems stuck, and then it falls to the ground with a wet thump. Whatever is left lies still.
“Are you two alright?” I ask. There is still one lamp to see by, though already it grows dim as whatever damned thing powers it starts to run out. Stuarts nods, but I can see Peggy has a gash down one side.
“It got me,” she says, sounding remarkably calm for a cub who has nearly had her existence ripped out of her.
“Here!” I call out to those waiting outside. “She needs food,” I say to Ariadne, pointing at Peggy. She nods.
“Please come,” Ariadne says to her, and then taps one of the crew on the shoulder. Peggy glances at me and I nod. Meanwhile Rupert has arrived. “Burn it,” I say to him. A little paraffin and a match is all it takes. Seeing it done I turn and leave the tunnel. Peggy is already looking better.
“Ariadne, Rupert, search the place thoroughly and then fumigate it. I want no sign of this by sunrise. You two,” I point at Peggy and Stuart, “with me. It is time we report this success. You have done well, and I will tell your lordship such. If ever you are sent to London, and I am there, I would welcome your company.”
It is a poisoned offer, of course. Any such offer from me is - but it is still genuine. I like these two. I mean, we have nothing in common, but they have made me smile. But back to London it will be. Not tonight, and probably not tomorrow, but most likely the night after that.
- 2
