The Wrath of the Lizard Lord (5 page)

Dakkar threw open the hatch at the top of the tower and found a rifle pointing at him once again. He froze and felt the blood drain from his face.

Three men perched round the edge of the tower. They were tall and strongly built like Oginski, with stern, scarred and weather-beaten faces. Two wore moustaches waxed to a point at the ends while the other sported a thick beard. They reminded Dakkar of Napoleon’s Im­­­perial Guard.

But what made Dakkar freeze in fear was the emblem on each of their black uniforms. A large letter C, a trident and a snake. The symbol for Cryptos.

Chapter Seven

Warriors from the Past

One of the men stood taller than the rest. His bald head and thick beard distinguished him from the others, who wore berets and moustaches. He stared down at Dakkar, his lip curling.

‘Keep that rifle trained on him, Serge,’ the man said. ‘If the boy so much as blinks, blow his head off. Bolton, get inside that boat, see if anyone else is lurking down there.’

‘Aye, Cutter,’ said another of the men, a pistol ready in his fist. He clambered past Dakkar and down through the hatch.

This can’t be!
Dakkar looked from Cutter to the rifle pointed at him.
What shall I do? Where are the men who are meant to be loyal to Oginski?

‘Please, you’ve got to help me,’ Dakkar said, clenching his fists then freezing as the rifle barrel twitched.

‘You’ve come to the wrong place for help, my friend,’ said Cutter, his laugh echoed by the men around him.

‘My mentor, Count Oginski, he lies below on the brink of death,’ Dakkar pleaded. ‘He told me to come here. He needs a doctor.’

The mention of Oginski turned Cutter’s face pale. Serge lowered the rifle for a second and then brought it up again. A mutter of consternation rippled among the men who had crowded around.

‘Cutter!’ Bolton called from the tower. ‘Come quickly!’

Cutter lunged towards Dakkar, making the boy flinch, but the big man barged past him and clambered down into the
Nautilus
. Dakkar made to follow him but Serge edged forward and jabbed the rifle barrel against his cheek.

‘Don’t move until Cutter says you can,’ Serge hissed, and eased back a little.

A moment later, Cutter’s huge form emerged from the hatch with Oginski over his shoulder. Dakkar realised just how much Oginski had wasted away during the voyage. Cutter was a big man and obviously strong, but even so he carried Oginski out of the hatch easily.

‘Is he alive, Cutter?’ Serge asked, taking his eyes from Dakkar.

‘Barely,’ Cutter said, his face grim. ‘We need to get him to Walbridge as quickly as possible. Piper, ready a carriage. Serge, bring that boy to the cottage. He has some questions to answer.’

A small man scurried off ahead of them towards the cottages and Cutter climbed down off the
Nautilus
with Oginski still over his shoulder. Serge glowered at Dakkar from under bushy eyebrows and flicked the rifle to the left, indicating that Dakkar should step on to the stone jetty and follow Cutter. Dakkar eased himself down and stumbled towards the huddle of cottages. The men walked alongside him in silence and, every now and then, Serge would jab Dakkar in the back with the gun barrel.

Seagulls screamed and wheeled around the rock face that rose above them. At the end of the jetty, Dakkar could see a cobbled quay with the small cottages and storehouses made of neat grey stone. Behind them a path wound up to the cliff top.

Oginski groaned feebly, his arms swinging loose. Tears stung Dakkar’s eyes at the sight of the great man brought so low. Cutter pushed a cottage door open and dis­­appeared inside. Dakkar followed, despite everything, enjoying the warmth that washed over him.

The door led into the cottage’s kitchen and living area. Clean, scrubbed tables stood in regimented rows on a stone floor off which you could eat it was so well scrubbed. Everything about the room barked discipline and organisation to Dakkar. Jars and bottles stood to attention on the shelves in neat rows. Maps and charts covered the walls.

Cutter swept away the plates and cutlery set out on one of the tables nearest the fire that blazed in the hearth. He lay Oginski down gently, cradling his head. The men crowded round, pulling their caps off.

‘Will he be all right, Cutter?’ asked one of the men, his eyes wide.

‘He looks so pale,’ another added, shaking his head.

Dakkar watched in disbelief as yet another wiped a tear from his eye.

‘We’ll see,’ Cutter said, and tore at Oginski’s filthy shirt. ‘Get warm water and fresh clothes. Jackson, clean and dress that wound as best as you can. It will soon be dark and we’ll travel to Lyme then.’

Cutter turned to Dakkar and pointed to a table in the corner of the room. Dakkar followed him and sat down on a wooden stool.

‘So you are the illustrious Prince Dakkar,’ Cutter said, folding his arms and sitting back in the chair opposite Dakkar. ‘The one our leader hopes will save the civilised nations from Cryptos.’

‘I don’t know what you mean,’ Dakkar muttered, feeling his face grow warm. ‘Oginski isn’t your leader!’

A shadow passed over Cutter’s square face. ‘He was once,’ he said. ‘And he will be again.’

Another of the men brought two bowls of steaming broth and some chunks of bread. Dakkar’s mouth watered. The smell was so good after days of stale biscuit and salt beef. Cutter waved a hand to the bowl and Dakkar couldn’t resist snatching a spoon and slurping up the soup.
This is all wrong
, he thought.
Oginski is dying on that table and here I am eating with this agent of Cryptos
. He put his spoon down.

‘I just want Oginski to live,’ Dakkar said, narrowing his eyes at Cutter.

‘Eat your soup – you’ll need your strength for the journey to Lyme,’ Cutter said, waving a dismissive hand. ‘As for Oginski, we’ll do our best.’

Dakkar picked up the spoon again. Oginski had talked a little about his past but not gone into details. Dakkar didn’t know that his mentor had once commanded men and guards as Count Cryptos did. Had Oginski once called himself Count Cryptos? Had he ever plotted to overthrow countries or even empires?

‘You served with Oginski?’ Dakkar said, his voice thick with the soup.

Cutter rested his elbow on the table and pushed his shoulder forward so that the Cryptos insignia on the top of his arm faced Dakkar. ‘Cryptos Red Faction,’ he said, pointing to the insignia. ‘We were Oginski’s most loyal men, his elite fighters. Our missions took us all over the world. Twenty men now guard this cove for him. Over the years, Franciszek Oginski saved the lives of every one of us. We swore an oath of loyalty to him.’

‘Then why do you still wear the badge of Count Cryptos?’ Dakkar said, frowning.

‘Cryptos is more than just one man. It is an army,’ Cutter replied, raising his eyebrows as if surprised by the question. ‘We are loyal to our comrades too. When Franciszek Oginski turned against his brothers, we swore we would never harm him but we couldn’t turn against our other comrades. It was a dark day.’

‘So you don’t fight for anyone now?’ Dakkar said.

‘We will help our brothers, if they call,’ Cutter said. ‘But not if it involves Franciszek Oginski. In the meantime we keep busy – a little smuggling, some robbery. We wait for him to return and lead us once more.’

Dakkar sat speechless.
I can’t imagine Oginski leading these men
, he thought.
Surely he wasn’t like the Count Cryptos I knew – ruthless and cold
.

The cottage door burst open and the man called Piper stood there, panting. He looked as if the devil himself were after him.

‘The carriage is ready, Cutter,’ he panted. ‘The men are ready with a stretcher to carry the count up the cliff path.’

‘Good work, Piper,’ Cutter growled, rising to his feet. ‘Oginski would be impressed with your speed.’

Piper gave a tight smile and nodded.

These men really do care about Oginski
, Dakkar thought.
Why didn’t he try to reform them?

Dakkar watched, forgotten by the men as they hurried to lift Oginski on to the stretcher. Four held the stretcher by the handles, two at the front and two at the back, each flanked by a man armed with a rifle. They eased their burden out through the door and into the darkening night.

Cutter nodded to Dakkar to follow them. The big man grabbed a thick woollen jacket that hung on the back of the door and threw it to Dakkar.

‘That’ll keep you from perishing in the cold,’ he said. ‘Now, come with us.’

Darkness filled the quay and some of the men carried lanterns that swung as they moved, making the cobbles dance. Dakkar felt a little dizzy.

He glanced back at the black outline of the
Nautilus
, bobbing at the end of the jetty, and bit his lip.

‘Don’t worry,’ Cutter called back to him. ‘The rest of the men will guard Oginski’s sub with their lives.’

Dakkar hurried next to Oginski’s stretcher as the men began to march along the narrow quay. As they moved, Dakkar noticed crumbling, derelict fishermen’s cottages skirting the cobbled space. He shuddered. Had the people here moved out of their own free will?

‘This place was long abandoned when we took it over,’ said the man holding the back of the stretcher, as if reading Dakkar’s mind. ‘The entrance to the cove collapsed, making it almost impossible to get boats out to sea. The villagers left for easier ports.’

Soon, the path rose steeply and turned into steps carved out of the crumbling rock. The men’s pace didn’t change and Dakkar found himself panting for breath as the weeks of deprivation and effort caught up with him. The soup he had eaten earlier threatened to force its way out of his stomach and his head thumped. He glanced up as the men’s feet pounded in a uniform rhythm on the steps. Oginski’s stretcher remained level, and even though the men at the back were virtually holding the big man above their heads their faces betrayed no sign of effort.

Soon they crested the cliff and climbed on to a narrow, muddy track that led into the darkness. The cliff path whirled and veered in front of him. He felt his legs give way at the knee and he pitched forward, bumping into one of the guards. Suddenly he found himself staring back down on to the cottages, tiny now they had climbed to the top of the cliff. He stumbled straight towards the edge of the path and the drop below. He couldn’t stop himself. He was falling.

Chapter Eight

Night Attack

Dakkar felt weightless for a second. He tried to scream but his dry mouth and throat let out a hoarse croak.

Then a firm hand yanked at his collar, choking him and dragging him back. His feet kicked forward and he fell hard on to his backside. Cutter stood over him, his hands on his hips.

‘Careful, lad,’ he said. ‘It’s a long way down.’

‘Thank you,’ Dakkar gasped, his voice like sandpaper.

He felt strong hands sweep him up and half push, half drag him up the path towards a waiting carriage. As he came closer, he could see that it was quite plain – more a box on wheels with a door at each side and thick curtains covering the open windows.

‘Get the boy inside,’ Cutter barked.

The carriage door creaked open and Dakkar was dragged up. He eased himself on to a bench at the back, glad to have the chance to sit and rest. A moment later, Oginski was pushed in on his stretcher. The whiteness of his face stood out in the darkness. Dakkar rested a palm on the man’s clammy brow.

‘Don’t you dare die, Oginski,’ he whispered, tears prickling his eyes. ‘Don’t you dare!’

Piper climbed in and sat next to Dakkar.

‘Do not worry, my friend,’ he said, laying a hand on Dakkar’s arm. ‘We will get him to Doctor Walbridge. Oginski is strong. He has cheated death before.’

Serge, the man who had held Dakkar at gunpoint, climbed in and sat on the other side of him. The carriage began to rock as the driver smacked the reins, waking the horses into motion.

‘How did he come to be so badly hurt?’ Serge said, looking down on his fallen leader and shaking his head.

‘There was an explosion,’ Dakkar muttered, looking at the floor. ‘And some men shot at us. A bullet caught Oginski’s shoulder.’

‘You’ve been at sea for some days,’ Piper said, looking keenly at Dakkar. ‘Where did this happen?’

Weariness ate at Dakkar’s very bones. He didn’t have the energy to think and didn’t want to say. But, looking down at Oginski’s frail form, it all seemed so pointless. He heaved a sigh.

‘We were on Elba,’ he said, grinding the heel of his hand into his eye. ‘Trying to stop Cryptos from killing Napoleon.’

‘Just you and Franciszek?’ Serge said, his eyes wide. ‘How many men did Cryptos have?’

‘Which of Franciszek’s brothers was against you?’ Piper asked, leaning forward.

‘I don’t know,’ Dakkar admitted. ‘They had some kind of beast but it fled when an imperial guard shot at it.’

‘So you didn’t see any Cryptos guards?’ Serge frowned.

‘No,’ Dakkar said slowly. ‘Only some badges that Bonaparte’s guards said they had taken from Cryptos’s.’