Blaze of Glory (32 page)

The taller man ran the palms of his hands against his
jacket. 'I wish you three hadn't come here.'

'So do we,' Aubrey said. 'Let us go and we won't come
back.'

The taller man looked pained. 'I'd like to, son, but we
can't operate like that. Things are too serious.'

'We won't tell anyone,' Caroline said. Aubrey saw her
inching closer to the man with the pistol. She held
her hands out as if pleading, but Aubrey could see the
tensing of her body and the way she balanced on the balls
of her feet.

'Easy, now,' the pistol-wielder said. He took a step back.

'It's not our decision,' the taller man said, appealing for
understanding. 'We'll have to see what the others say.'

He knelt and picked up a fist-sized piece of stone. He
banged it against the floor three times.

Aubrey's eyes widened as a floor stone creaked upwards.
A lantern, a pistol and a face appeared. The face
was long and thin, adorned with a drooping forked
moustache. The man looked like a walrus rising through
a hole in the ice. 'Ames? Briggs? You saw the message?'

'Aye, it's us, Holroyd,' the pistol-wielder said. He
glanced at his partner. 'Ames, steady the trapdoor.'

Ames, the taller man, seized the stone and assisted those
below in lifting it. Briggs, the pistol-wielder, gestured
with his head. 'Now, you three, down you go.'

Ames leaned towards the hole. 'We've got three prisoners
coming down, Holroyd.'

He stood aside and Briggs waved them towards the
ladder. Aubrey looked at both of them. 'Are you sure you
want to do this?'

'Get moving,' Briggs growled.

Aubrey shrugged and climbed down the ladder. Caroline,
her face set in hard lines, went next. George was last.

The soft light of the lantern lit a long, narrow space.
The walls and the floor were made of tightly fitting stone
blocks. The walrus-moustached Holroyd stood at one
end, holding a lantern. He looked dismayed. Two other
men stood behind him and murmured to each other.
'This way,' Holroyd managed. 'Mind your step.'

This courtesy, more than anything, convinced Aubrey
that they were in the hands of amateurs. That worried
him. He'd rather they were professionals. Professionals
were steady, predictable. Amateurs were usually inexperienced.
They could do anything.

He leaned against the stone wall. His heart was
hammering and he felt cold sweat all over his body. He
needed to rest.

Behind him, Ames and Briggs clattered down the
ladder. Together, they eased the trapdoor shut.

They marched down the passage for ten yards before it
opened into a chamber about five yards square. Lanterns
hung from brackets, lighting the space and the table and
chairs that were arranged in the middle of it. The passage
continued on the other side of the chamber, stairs disappearing
into darkness.

Ames and Briggs put their heads together and
muttered, while Holroyd and the nameless two others
watched their prisoners. They appeared to reach a
decision. Briggs gave the pistol to Ames, took a lantern
from the wall and disappeared down the stairs.

'Where are we?' George asked Aubrey.

He looked around. 'I can't see any tombs or coffins, but
it must be the crypt. Perhaps the remains were removed.'

'No talking,' Ames growled. He brandished his
revolver.

Briggs reappeared with a coil of rope over his shoulder.
'Sit down,' he said and he handed the rope to Holroyd.
'Tie them back to back.'

'The girl too?'

'Yes.'

Holroyd was firm without being cruel. He bound
them with the experience of someone who has worked
with ropes all his life, with hard, flat knots well out of
reach.

When Holroyd was done, Aubrey sagged against
George. Immediately, he could feel his friend flexing his
muscles, working against the bonds. Aubrey was sure that
George was strong enough to stretch the ropes and slip
out, but it would take time, something he was sure was in
short supply.

George nudged him and he jerked his head upright.
'Sorry.'

'You're unwell?'

'Not the best.'

Aubrey felt Caroline's slender strength next to him and
she, too, was carefully working against her bonds. 'Are
you sick?' she asked.

'Not exactly.'

Holroyd frowned. He crouched and held a lantern
close to Aubrey's face. His eyes went wide. 'I thought I
recognised him.'

'What is it?' Ames said. 'Holroyd, what're you carrying
on about?'

Holroyd straightened. He pointed at Aubrey. 'The lad.
I've seen him before, better dressed than that. He's Sir
Darius's son.'

'No,' Ames said. Briggs looked startled and stared at
Aubrey.

'What are we going to do?' Briggs said. He looked at
Aubrey as if he were an unexploded bomb.

'Down the stairs,' Ames said. 'We need to discuss this.'

Briggs, Holroyd and the two others followed Ames
into a deeper part of the crypt, grumbling.

'What next?' Caroline said. She didn't sound frightened.
She sounded calculating.

'It's not good, I'm afraid,' Aubrey said. 'They're using
their names. That either means that they don't think
it'll do us any good to know who they are, or that
they're careless. Either way, we're in a situation.'

'Who
are
these men?'

'Well, they're not Holmlanders,' Aubrey said. 'And that
makes things very complicated.'

'How so?' Caroline asked.

'Where's von Stralick? Where are the rest of the Holmlanders?
And what of the magically shrouded newcomers
we saw? These men are a third party.' He shook his head.
'Too many variables here.'

Footsteps and the bobbing light of the lantern in the
passage announced the return of their captors. None of
them looked happy but Ames had put away his pistol, for
which Aubrey was grateful.

Holroyd puffed air through his moustache and
frowned. He looked to his colleagues and they waved
him forward. 'This is very complicated,' he said.

'We were just saying that,' Aubrey said in a weary voice.

'It's not your presence, actually, that's the worst thing.
It's who you are.'

'My father's son,' Aubrey said.

'Exactly.'

Holroyd wiped his hands together. 'Great man, your
father. The hope of the country.'

Aubrey blinked. 'I beg your pardon?'

'He's the only one who knows what's good for the
country, he does. Not afraid to speak his mind, either.'

Aubrey had heard these sort of reverential tones before.
'You served with him, didn't you?'

Holroyd looked thoughtful. 'In the Mataboro conflict.
I was a sapper attached to his regiment. I never heard him
give an order for something he wasn't prepared to do
himself. When I was doing earthworks, demolitions, he
made me show him how to lay a charge, the burn rates
for fuses, things like that. Good man, he was, for an
officer.'

Caroline had had enough. 'Exactly who are you? What
are you doing here?'

Holroyd's eyes darted from side to side, to his coconspirators.

Briggs stepped forward. 'We are the Army of New
Albion, the true patriots of this benighted nation.'

Aubrey's brain was racing, trying to fit this new piece
of intelligence into the puzzle.
The Army of New Albion?
What were they doing here?

'War is in the wind,' Holroyd said. 'Holmland aggression
has made that clear.'

'Not to mention the growth in their military,' Briggs
added. 'Their navy's doubled in size in the last three years.
The sinking of the
Osprey
was a test of their new naval
strength.'

'And it's obvious that Holmland sees Albion as the
only real opponent to their plans for an empire,' Holroyd
continued.

Aubrey nodded, hoping to encourage them to talk,
even though they weren't saying anything new. The more
they talked, the more likely it was that they would say
something useful – and the more time George would
have to work free.

'But this country has grown soft,' Ames said, his eyes
narrow. 'Too many appeasers, too many who are prepared
to give in, to turn a blind eye to those onion-eating scum.'

'The Prime Minister,' Briggs said.

'The King,' Holroyd added. He crouched in front of
Aubrey. 'They're not like your father, lad. He's the man
we need in charge of this country. He won't put up with
the antics of the Holmlanders. He'd show them that
Albion isn't a nation of weaklings and cowards. He'd
stand up to them.'

'I see,' Aubrey said, when it seemed as if an answer was
expected. He wondered if he should tell them of the
disappearance of his father, but decided to keep that one
to himself for the moment.

Briggs shook his head. 'He should still be Prime
Minister, he should.'

Ames snarled again. 'That Armitage, I never trusted
him.'

Holroyd looked worried, plucked at his moustache and
glanced at his colleagues. As he did, Aubrey realised that
these men were desperate. They might not be hardened
criminals, but they had the air of people who had committed
themselves to drastic action, even at great personal
cost. They had the look of the fanatic about them.

His growing sense of optimism was doused by this
thought. Fanatics had a habit of not being worried about
their welfare, or of those around them, as long as it
advanced their cause. It could explain why they were so
forthcoming with their explanations.

Holroyd glanced at his colleague. 'Steady, Ames, steady.'

Ames whirled and thrust his face in Holroyd's. 'I've had
enough of steady! Steady isn't going to save this country!
It's action that's needed!'

Holroyd held up his hands palms outwards and spoke
softly, as if to an angry dog. 'Of course, of course. That's
why we're here tonight, remember? Planning, final
details, timing.'

Briggs glanced at Aubrey. 'Lad, how'd you like to see
your father leading this country again?'

'He will. After the election.'

Ames laughed savagely. 'Not a chance. The King's all
but given the Prime Minister his blessing. The Holmlanders
are telling everyone how impressed they are with
our PM. Your father's reputation is being torn down. It's
all cosy and wrapped up for the Royalists.'

Holroyd seemed uncertain where this conversation was
going, but he didn't interrupt.

'What if,' Briggs said, 'the King and the PM weren't
around any more? That'd put Prince Albert on the throne
– and he and your dad get along like a house on fire. No
more cosy Holmland-loving statements coming from the
palace. We'd have strength instead of weakness.'

'The King's not a proper Albionite anyway,' Ames
spat. 'He's Holmlander through and through. He deserves
to die.'

The chamber was silent after Ames's venom. Finally,
Aubrey spoke up. 'How many relatives did you lose when
the
Osprey
was sunk?'

Ames stiffened. Briggs took him by the arm. 'We all
lost people to those treacherous Holmlanders,' he said. 'I lost
a cousin, same as Holroyd. Ames lost two brothers. Stokers,
they were. Never had a chance when the ship sank.'

Ames's face contorted with anger. 'And Rollo Armitage
and his cronies just caved in. Accepted the apologies
and pretended all was well. Traitors. They deserve some
of their own medicine and we're going to give it to
them!'

Holroyd nodded. 'It's time to act. Things are getting
dangerous for us. We were lucky to avoid the authorities
up in Greythorn last week.' He sighed. 'You called this
meeting to check our preparations, Ames?'

Ames looked startled. 'I thought the message was
from you.'

They both looked at Briggs. He shook his head. 'Wasn't
me. You told me about the meeting, Ames.'

Caroline had been silent for some time, but Aubrey had
felt her tensing. She coughed a little and leaned close to
him. 'Get ready,' she breathed.

Aubrey didn't have time to wonder what she meant.
She rose to her feet in one sinuous action, casting the
rope aside.

Holroyd, Briggs and Ames stared, Ames fumbling for
his revolver. The other two had their backs to her. 'Now,
lass,' Holroyd said, 'you don't want to get hurt.'

'No,' Caroline said and then she sprang. Ames didn't
have a chance to move. Caroline kicked the revolver out of
his hand and struck him in the mid-section with the flat
of her hand. He collapsed, gasping for air.

George threw off the last of the ropes and launched
himself at Holroyd, who back-pedalled frantically, arms
whirling, only to run into a roundhouse kick from
Caroline. He staggered against the wall, knocked his head
against the stone, and slid to the floor.

Caroline twisted and dropped into a crouch. One leg
shot out and she spun around, sweeping the nameless two
off their feet. They fell into a tangled heap. Caroline
straightened up, balanced on her toes, but the men simply
lay there, staring at her. Aubrey wanted to applaud, but
instead he dragged himself to his feet.

'All right, love, all right,' Briggs said nervously. He eyed
the revolver on the floor, but instead shuffled over to
Ames and prodded him with a foot. 'Get up. Let's get out
of here.'

'What about them?' Ames snarled. He was still holding
his midriff. Aubrey wondered if Caroline had broken a
rib for him.

'Leave them,' Holroyd said, tottering over. 'You won't
say anything, will you, lad? We're just trying to do the
right thing for the country. And your old dad.'

Aubrey decided to throw in his ace while they were off
balance. It might turn up something useful. 'He's missing,'
he said. 'Someone's kidnapped him.'

Holroyd's face fell. 'That's not good.'

'Holmlanders have taken him,' Ames snarled. 'We have
to move, fast!'

'We'll do what we can to help him,' Holroyd said. 'All
right, lad?'

Aubrey was silent. Holroyd seemed satisfied with this.
Briggs picked up a chair and jabbed it at Caroline, then
he held it in front of him as they backed out of the
chamber. There was a boom as the stone trapdoor opened,
and the Army of New Albion were on their way.