Read Chronicles of Steele: Raven 2: Episode 2 Online
Authors: Pauline Creeden
PAULINE CREEDEN
CHRONICLES OF STEELE: RAVEN
Episode Two
© 2014 Pauline Creeden
Cover Design Copyright © 2014 by Alchemy Book Covers
Interior formatting and design by Marcy Rachel of
Backstrip Publishing
All rights reserved.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system without the prior written permission of the author.
This is a work of fiction. All characters and events portrayed in this novel are fictitious and are products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Synopsis
:
Episode 2 of a 4 part Steampunk Fantasy set in an alternate universe. For Captain Jack Grant, the hunt has just begun. Can he capture the elusive Raven Steele, or will she slip through his grasp? As both sides take on new alliances, they will find that one will be an honest partner, one will fall, and one will betray them all.
Be as gentle as a dove but as cunning as a viper.
Preserve one's self with intellect,
and know when it is time to be either the dove or the viper.
R
AVEN’S TRAVELLING DRESS covered her from neck to ankle, but she could not rid herself of the feeling she was exposed. Although she wore fewer petticoats than was fashionable, the extra fabric still weighed her down. The corset she wore fit snugly about her waist, and the ribbed leather held her in a comfortable hug. But without her crossbow and quiver, she could never be at ease.
“Madam, the Grommet Dirigible is set to leave at 12:15 for Westmoreland.” The conductor covered a yawn with the back of his hand and punched a stamp across the tickets before pushing them through the window. “Platform 9, please.”
Raven nodded and placed a hand on Darius’s shoulder. She clamped her mouth against the pain in her leg and walked straight but slow. A small crowd milled about the station, and no one gave the pair a second glance. She kept alert and guided Darius toward the small café under the harbor’s clock. They took a seat at a table toward the middle. No one ever paid attention to the people in the middle of the crowd. They’d draw more attention if they were toward the edge.
A green patina gave the leaves and vines of the wrought copper café chairs the illusion of life. Nine tables were laid out in a semi-circle on the patio, and Raven had chosen the one nearest the middle. On the edge, two men in business suits read the paper over their tea.
The boy still wore farmer’s trousers held up by red suspenders. It made her chest ache to look at him, but she smiled anyway. He looked more like Gregory than the duke’s son now. His skin had lost its pallor and become ruddy from playing in the autumn sun. “What’s in Westmoreland?”
“It’s the closest we can get to the Preston Woods by airship. From there, we’ll take a short train ride to Moorshead. I’ll have to find directions when we arrive there.”
“I wish Nikki could have come aboard with us.”
“The dog will be fine in the cargo hold. They wouldn’t allow her in the passenger compartment.”
The boy shook his head and lowered it a bit. “When I travelled by airship before, Nikki was allowed.”
Raven leaned forward in a like manner and whispered, “They might allow the baron’s dog, but not a farm boy’s.”
Darius’ eyebrows scrunched together before his eyes grew wider. A smile formed on his lips. “Oh.”
Raven winked at him. The waiter arrived and lifted an eyebrow with his pen at the ready. She set her menu down delicately. “A spot of tea and some biscuits should be enough.”
The boy chattered almost incessantly, and though she paid attention to him, she also needed to keep an eye on the crowd so no surprises would come their way. The two men at the table on the edge kept her focus. Both read a newspaper and sat across from each other. She tilted her head slightly to see the headline better on the paper nearest her. A drawing of a woman in black with a crossbow covered the lower quarter of the page. The eyebrows were a bit thick, and the malice in her eyes exaggerated. Over the drawing, her name stood out in bold along with WANTED in red letters. She straightened in her chair and turned her away, making a conscious effort to keep her lids lowered. The last thing she needed to do was draw attention to what she may have been looking at.
She cleared her throat and scanned the station with her direct vision as well as her periphery. A fondness for counting had always been her comfort. She counted the heads of everyone who appeared to be waiting for the next flight. Among the civilians were several brown coats. Duke’s Guard. Her jaw tightened, but she perfected her bored look as she studied each of them. No red band. These were mere foot soldiers. And they behaved as though they were on leave. Their jackets were open and casual; their stance, relaxed. One ogled a young girl as she passed.
The waiter set a cup and saucer before both Raven and Darius. The young baron straightened in his seat and sat like a gentleman. The farm boy was all but gone. He took his cup’s handle between his fingers in an elegant gesture that made Raven mildly jealous. At the center of the table, the waiter set a small plate with four biscuits and strawberry jam.
As the waiter poured the tea, she searched her bag for her coin purse. It felt awkward to carry about a travel bag. She usually attached every object to her person by magnets or snaps. Her hands were accustomed to being empty. Inside the bag lay her smallest weapons and other valuables. She took a half moment to caress one crossbow bolt with her forefinger before turning to the waiter with payment.
“Thank you.” She offered the coins and added, “No change, please.”
“Thank you, Madam.” He made a crisp bow and turned away.
“I thought you lost all your money in that saddlebag.” Darius smiled over the tea and took a gentle sip.
“The pay is very good in my profession, and it’s smart to not leave all your eggs in one basket.”
His forehead scrunched. “What does that mean?”
With a sigh, Raven leaned forward to explain a little further. “I have several hiding places for valuables.”
“Oh.” Darius nodded, eyes wide.
They sipped tea in silence, and the boy ate three biscuits to Raven’s one. As they finished, a brown coat closed in on the table in her periphery. She fought to keep her head straight.
“Excuse me,” a gruff voice cut in, overloud.
Raven stiffened and turned her head slowly. The soldier’s back faced her as he leaned toward the table of the two gentlemen. One of the gentlemen had gripped his paper so tightly his knuckles were as white as the printed pulp. A second soldier stood to the other side of the table.
Raven turned her head back to Darius but kept her ears tuned to their discussion. She watched them from the corner of her eye. The boy tilted forward on his chair and had his knee placed on the seat so he could lean closer to the discussion. His face shone brightly with wonder. The farm boy had returned.
“May we see your identification and tickets, please?” The guard nearest them made the demands. His hand pushed back his coat and rested a palm on the butt of his pistol. “Move your hand slow, please, and keep your extra one on the table.”
The white-knuckled gentleman threw his paper down in a huff, knocking his bowler hat to the pavement. “What is the meaning of this?”
The taller guard leaned toward the gentleman’s face, placing a hand on the tabletop. His overlong salt and pepper colored bangs fell into his eyes. In a smooth motion, he pushed them back with his free hand. “Tickets and identification, if you please.”
Raven dropped her napkin from her lap and reached down to pick it up. She used the most demure look she could muster as she glanced at the proceedings. The icy blue glare of the taller guard met her gaze. She cleared her throat and sat upright with her napkin, giving the man a curt nod. He returned the gesture, before returning to the flustered gentleman who was busy pulling out papers and identification from his billfold. The red-faced gentleman murmured under his breath in an unintelligible manner. He used the word “outrage” at least three times.
“Leonard Green.” The taller guard held the identification card under close scrutiny. Closest to her, the shorter guard still kept his palm on the hilt of his gun. The first guard looked over at the latter and asked, “Does that name sound familiar to you? Or is it just me?”
The latter guard nodded, his grin so wide Raven caught a glimpse of his molars. “Seems to me that we just heard that name a short bit ago…on the other side of the station.”
“That’s what I thought.” Taller guard nodded.
“What! Preposterous. I’ve never been so accosted and insulted in my entire life.” The crimson faced gentleman attempted to stand, but the taller guard set a hand on his shoulder and shoved him back into his seat.
“Nope. I’m sure you haven’t. Just as I’m sure you are not Leonard Green.” He tightened his grip on the man’s shoulder until the gentleman let out a squeal and recoiled from the pain.
Raven felt that it was an appropriate time to stare as slack-jawed and saucer-eyed as the farm boy across from her. She turned in her seat and joined in.
In a rough, awkward motion, the two guards wrestled the gentleman to the ground and pinned his arms behind his back. After a short struggle, they detained the man, cuffed him, and set him back on his feet.
“I’ll have you know…”
“Oh shut your trap.” The short guard punched the disheveled gentleman in the gut to silence him. “The jig is already up. We caught you red handed with the billfold and identification of Leonard Green, Pick-pocket. You didn’t think the real Mr. Green noticed you bumping him in the lavatory, did you? Well his description led us directly to you. Now come away without any more difficulty, and I won’t punch you again.”
“Now boarding, the 12:15 to Westmoreland.” The conductor’s voice came over the quiet murmur in the station and echoed from the walls.
Raven leapt to her feet before she remembered to slow her movements so as to appear normal. She set a hand on Darius’ shoulder and tilted her head in the direction of the platform. The boy tore his eyes away from the two brown coats and hurried toward the loading dock. Raven smiled as she followed close behind, relieved to put some distance between the guard and herself. The boy’s red suspenders bobbed through the crowd toward the crates waiting to be loaded into the cargo hold. She shook her head. No surprise the boy would be looking for a last chance to see his pet.
“Excuse me, miss.” The gruff voice of the tall guardsman called toward her, and Raven stopped. Her adrenaline amped up, and the station faded out, as she concentrated on every possible escape maneuver. Darius was too far away. Could she run through the crowd, catch him by the suspenders and make her escape? Doubtful. She clenched her jaw as she felt fingers lightly tap her shoulder.