P. Elrod - The Hanged Man

“Dazzling young Charlotte will have to wait. I must keep things moving as scheduled and make sure Hollifield behaves.”

“Then go. I can look after this baggage.”

He shook his head. “I should stay. If you two start up again it’ll raise the house. I’ve a bit of a free hand with the servants, but prefer not to press things. Oh, Alex, don’t take that as an invitation to scream and make a scene. I have a most convincing story prepared about dipsomania. Your disheveled appearance will add to its credibility.”

“Let’s leave, then. I’m sick of the sight of you.”

“No need to be rude. We’re waiting for transport. You’ll be in a coach with one of the beasts; you won’t like it, but I’ll be certain you’ll get there. Don’t bother thinking of escape. They don’t know their own strength and could hurt you without even trying. I wouldn’t mention you killed one of its own, either. They understand a good deal more than one would imagine.”

“How intelligent are they?”

“They’re very bright, able to carry out complex tasks better than some humans.”

“Why do they serve you?”

“Why does a dog serve its master? I suggest you avoid staring. They can take that as a challenge. Don’t meet its eye and you should get on splendidly. Just how did you manage to kill one?”

She shook her head. The less Teddy knew about airships, flying squads, and rakshasas, the better.

“I’m not sure I believe you; it’s difficult to picture. They seem to set off some people. Is that what happened to you? Lose control, did you? Wish I’d been there to see. Your warders will need to know. Can’t have you surprising them.” He peered through the curtains when the sound of wheels and clopping hooves drifted in on the quiet air. “Here we are.”

She stood next to him and slumped at the sight of the closed coach. “Damn you, Teddy.…”

He looked down. “There, now, it won’t be too awful-”

She threw the whiskey into his eyes and slammed an elbow strike just under his breastbone with all the force she could muster. He gasped and grunted, lashing blindly out, the back of his hand whipping past just short of her head as she dodged.

Brook instantly engaged the other guard, and they proceeded to make a deal of noise and cause breakage.

Alex kicked sideways to break Teddy’s knee, but caught only his shin with her heel, and the blow lacked strength. Her dress was too cumbersome for wide moves. He was much taller with a longer reach and twice her weight. She didn’t dare risk getting struck, and fought defensively, backing when he lunged, slamming sharp, fast deflecting blows when he tried to grab. A cricket bat on a wall display proved to be a temporary deterrent, but when he wrenched it from her hands she seized a golf club from a bag by the door.

Andrina kept her distance, but flung a vase. She yipped and dove behind a chair when Alex started for her. It was a feint; Alex reversed and swung hard at Teddy.

He went low, grasped a handful of her skirts, and pulled hard, hanging on even when she brought the driver down on his near shoulder with a bone-bruising thump. He grunted, but kept pulling. Her instinct was to resist and back away, but she turned his ploy against him. She let herself be drawn, pushing off as though diving into water. He turned his head aside, but got a palm slap square in his ear, then a fist in his throat. He gagged and fell over backward, with Alex on top.

She didn’t let up, drilling her knuckles into the nerve points of his arms and elbows. Master Shan taught that fighting fairly in the English way was not fighting to win and live. Another strike under the rib cage, and a knee driven into a very vulnerable spot indeed put Teddy past movement. He lay curled in agony, wheezing and moaning.

A thrown book pelted Alex, catching her in the midsection. It was a light volume, causing more surprise than damage. Andrina wasn’t strong enough to shift anything heavy.

She bolted for the study door and escape, but did not reach it. Dress and all, Alex got in between and tackled her like a rugby player, lifting her from the floor, then down they went. Andrina clawed and slapped but with no more effect now than ten years earlier when they’d fought. Two swift knuckle jabs and she went limp.

Alex pushed off her, catching her own ragged breath and vowing never to wear anything but trousers and the most minimal of corsets ever again.

Mr. Brook had achieved equal success with his opponent, though not without acquiring permanent damage to his habiliments and wrecking half the room. With two grown men thrashing for their lives in a limited space, it was only to be expected. Their masks were gone, flung away in the first seconds so they could better see. His nose was bloodied, but his head unbowed.

“You are unhurt, Miss Pendlebury?”

“Yourself, Mr. Brook?”

He wiped blood from his upper lip, further ruining a once-white evening glove. “I may have another black eye.”

The Hollifield butler, with two footmen and some frightened maids to lend support, opened the door that was not disguised as a bookcase. Shocked gaping ensued until the man found his voice.

“Lady Pendlebury? May I inquire as to what is going on here?”

“Sebbings, thank God! His lordship asked me to do an errand for his royal sister-in-law and these bounders”-she indicated the human debris on the floor-“attacked us. My colleague and I were forced to defend ourselves.”

“But, your ladyship, how did you get inside?”

“How do you think?” She had a sharp watch on his reaction. His gaze did not go to the bookcase, but the open window, his eyes widening. He must not know of the secret entry. “The front door, of course. Lord Hollifield gave me a key, but heaven knows where it is now. These three must have come in by the window and were waiting for us.”

“Why did you not ring the bell?”

“Lord Hollifield wanted discretion and still does. Please send a man to summon the police. These criminals must be taken into custody before worse happens.”

The mention of the police reassured him. A moment later a footman was outside, blowing a whistle and making the devil’s own racket with a police rattle. The sinister coach with its covered windows began moving. She caught no sight of any bestial occupant within.

“They’re getting away,” murmured Brook.

“For now. I’ve a feeling we’ve been exceedingly lucky in our encounters with those things, and it’s better to err on the side of caution and let this one depart.”

“Lady Pendlebury,” said the horrified Sebbings, “this is a fearful mess.”

“I’ll apologize to his lordship when next I see him. If you want to clear things up, please do so, but keep away from those three. Have you any rope in the house?”

“Rope? Some twine, perhaps. Perhaps in the mews…”

“Never mind. I require a knife.”

“Indeed?” he said, a touch alarmed.

“Nothing desperate, I assure you.”

“There should be one in the desk.”

She rummaged in the center drawer and found a more suitable tool: some very sharp scissors. Alex attacked the hampering skirts of her gown, cutting the heavy silk from waist to hem into a strip half a foot wide. She tossed it to Brook.

“Twist that a bit and secure that one first, would you?” She indicated Teddy, who was sweating from pain but trying to get up.

“That will be my very great pleasure, Miss Pendlebury.”

The maids left to fetch brooms and dustpans. Sebbings made a cautious circuit, righting tables and chairs and tch-tch ing at the damage.

Alex cut two more strips, which served as a blindfold and gag. It would not do to have Sebbings recognize one of Lord Hollifield’s cronies. She quietly asked, “Lieutenant, why did you leave us without a word?”