The Charleston Chase (Phantom Knights Book 2) (32 page)

A sharp, guttural cry came from the house, and I
glanced toward it. It cost me, for Silence was on me, wrapping his
arm around my waist and holding me against his chest. I would have
fought him, but I could not pull my gaze from the scene unfolding
before my eyes.

Harvey kicked the guard who had attacked me, and he
fell forward, his face streaked with blood. Harvey landed on the
guard’s back, and the man screamed out. There was something in
Harvey’s hand that I could not see clearly, until he raised it. It
was a brick.

“Do not look,” Silence said, but it was too
late.

The brick came down against the back of the guard’s
head and then again, and again. Harvey kept hitting him, shouting
words that my mind refused to hear for the gruesome thing Harvey
was doing.

All across the lawn people were watching with the
same looks of fear and horror on their faces. When Harvey finally
stopped, it was not from any sense of guilt at what he had done. I
could see the way he could no longer raise his arm. He stood in one
fluid motion, and turned, staring straight at me. I gasped, backing
against Silence’s chest.

Harvey’s hair and beard were no longer gray, but
red. His face was a mixture of pale white and red splotches; his
clothing that had been brown was streaked red, and one hand was
white while the other was red.

He started toward me, and I moved back even further
against Silence, forcing him to take a step back.

“Please,” I whispered frantically, “please release
me.” For the first time in my life, I was terrified of General
Harvey.

Silence did not reply. Harvey reached us, stopping
five feet from us as I stared at him in revulsion. His eyes, which
were a deep brown like his niece’s, were filled with sorrow. He did
not speak to me but to Silence.

“Prepare her, for the hour is nigh.” Harvey walked
around us into the barn.

With his hands on my shoulders, Silence guided me
toward the back of the house, and I did not fight him. My mind and
body were spent beyond the brink of what I could handle. There was
nothing to say or do, only to face what was upon me.

Silence did not lead me into the
prison chamber, but into a bedchamber on the ground floor of the
house. It was darker than my prison chamber had been, decorated in
shades of red and dark wood. The bed was large; filling an entire
wall, with four posts as large around and as tall as a grown man.
The red coverlet called to me, making me want to climb onto the bed
and sleep for days, but then I thought about what had happened with
that guard and seeing Harvey murder him with a brick, and I did not
think I would ever sleep again.

Silence guided me behind a Chinese screen and left
me standing there. He disappeared for a moment, reappearing with a
stack of clothing.

“Put these on,” he ordered before moving around the
screen again.

I stared down at the clothes in my hands. They were
men’s clothing, brown breeches, white shirt. My hands still shook
slightly, and my heart felt empty, drained of all fight, everything
that made me the fighter that I was. Broken was the most apt
description of how I felt. I stood there staring at the clothing
for so long that Silence came back around the screen.

“Either put them on, or I will be forced to do it
for you.”

He did not await a reply but walked around the
screen. Scared that he meant what he said, I moved to do his
bidding, removing and kicking the dress away then my petticoat
which was torn. I shuddered as I balled it up and threw it away
from me. Once the breeches, which were the right size, and the
shirt, which was two sizes too large, were in place, I moved around
the screen.

Silence was staring at a portrait on the wall over a
large fireplace. I could not bring myself to look anywhere around
the room but at Silence. He turned and came toward me with a brown
vest and jacket in his hands. I held my hand out for the vest, but
he would not give it to me, stepping around me and placing it on
me. It was heavy, weighing my shoulders down with something in the
lining of the material. He told me to do up the buttons, and once I
was through he helped me into the jacket. We stared at each other,
his face an impassive mask.

“Is someone seeing to Guinevere?” I asked when I
could take his silence no more.

“I am sure that she is already on her feet,” he
said, then clenched and unclenched his fist. “I apologize that I
was not there, Raven, to stop that attack upon you.” He said it
simply, but the words affected me like the last piece of the cord
that was holding me together, snapping.

“Why have you been kind to me? Why are you not like
that other guard?” I wanted, needed to pick a fight, to find myself
again, my will to live, to succeed. I knew that if I was not
fighting I would be crying uncontrollably.

“I was instructed to remind you that appearances are
often deceiving.”

“By whom?” I demanded, my chest beginning to ache.
Only a few people ever said that to me.

Silence reached his hand into his pocket and drew
something out. He raised between his fingers a small, perfect,
black feather. “Your brother.”

Jack

T
rying to
persuade Guinevere to stay behind was like trying to persuade a
tiger not to attack you. She was adamant that if she did not go,
then the Holy Order would suspect something. She had told us that
noon was the time in which the Holy Order meant to deal the blow to
Bess. She had gone ahead, riding her black horse to Sam’s
plantation while we collected our weapons and the others. I had
wanted to go with her, but she flatly refused. She was sure that
someone would see us together.

Sam’s entire team and Leo were with me as I rode
toward Sam’s plantation by a service road that rounded the
plantation, coming to it from behind. We halted in the trees near a
large barn, watching the unfolding chaos in the barnyard. There
were people running toward the barn, men fighting men, many shouts,
and guns firing.

“How did they get here?” Sam demanded of no one in
particular.

“What do we do?” Charlotte asked from beside me.

We turned to look at his team. I had not wanted to
bring the women. I had protested it, explaining the dangers that
could befall them. If they were captured unspeakable things could
be done to them, but it would be worse for Betsy. Sam in return
explained to me that it was for this that they had been trained and
that they deserved a chance. When he accepted full responsibility
for the outcome, I reluctantly agreed.

“Char, Betsy, and Rose will cover us from here. Abe,
Leo, Jack, and I will attack from the left, making a path for Jack
and I to get into the barn, for you may be sure that is where they
are keeping Bess.”

We dismounted, handing the reins of our horses to
Betsy and Charlotte. As I worked at loading my pistols and Sam
spoke with his team in a low voice, Leo came up beside me.

“If you find a chance to get into the barn, take it;
do not wait for me,” I told him quietly so Sam would not hear
me.

Leo nodded as he pulled out a pistol known as duck
foot. It had four splayed barrels that resembled the web of a
duck’s foot. Only strong people could use such a weapon, for the
kick was a force known to knock many men on their backsides.

Once our weapons were loaded, and
Sam was beside us, we moved forward, crouching low to remain
undetected until the last possible moment. Abe was to my left, all
vestiges of his dark skin covered, and a triple barrel pistol in
one hand and a dagger in the other. Abe was a great fighter, so I
had faith that we would reach Bess.

The royal guards were trying to fight their way into
the barn, but finding opposition in the twenty or so Holy Order
guards fighting to protect the barn. I did not see Guinevere, so I
could only hope that she was well protected inside the barn.

We stopped behind a group of bushes, and Leo rose
up, planted his feet firmly to keep himself upright, and took aim.
There were at least thirty men fighting, but it did not matter
which he struck for both sides were not with us. Leo fired, and
balls from all four barrels flew forward, knocking down three men
and blasting wood from the side of Sam’s barn as the fourth ball
struck the wall. The guards’ attention was firmly captured as we
fired upon them, Abe beside me hitting his target all three
times.

We dropped our pistols and ran forward. I came under
a swinging arm, pummeling the attacker in the stomach before rising
up and striking at his face. His nose broke under the force from my
fist. I grabbed his shoulder and brought his stomach down to meet
my knee, then shoved him back. As he fell, I saw the glittering
gold of the serpent ring on his finger. It worked to strengthen my
urgency to find my sister and Guinevere, and to rescue Bess before
the Holy Order could hurt her; plus to assure that Guinevere was
not captured by the royal guards.

A hand grabbed me from behind, and I was tossed
away, landing on my knees. I pulled out a dagger as I twisted
around. One of the Holy Order guards came at me with a dagger of
his own. As he threw his blade toward my head, our blades connected
and hissed. He was forcing the blades down toward my face, when he
suddenly stopped, staring down at me, his face was draining of
color. I pulled my dagger away and rolled as he came crashing to
the ground, a knife hilt sticking up from his back.

The royal guard who had thrown that blade was
running toward me, but Abe, after knocking one man away, threw out
his foot and the guard tripped. Abe was upon him, knocking him all
the way to the ground, then leaping onto his back and slamming his
head against the ground until the man went still. I turned, seeing
the path to the door clear. As I ran, I heard someone coming up
behind me. I reached the door but did not open it. I ducked down,
twisting, with my blade pointed out. It met a blade, and Sam stared
down at me. Lowering my dagger, my breathing was painful at the
realization that I almost stabbed Sam. Sam was unperturbed, as he
reached around me and opened a small door near to the larger set of
doors.

The barn was not lit; there was only a little light
coming in through holes in the wood. At first I thought we had
guessed wrong, that Bess was not there. My heart was pounding in
frantic beats as we advanced further into the barn, needing to
search it quickly, completely before moving on.

Above us in the loft, a lantern lit, followed by
more, until we were surrounded by candlelight. People were standing
in the lofts each holding a lantern, men I had never seen. Sam
sucked in a quick breath, and I looked forward.

There was what I at first thought was a wooden
platform, blocking the other set of barn doors. A lantern lit from
the platform revealed that it was not a platform, but a
scaffold.

Seeing the two people standing upon the scaffold
caused my face to feel suddenly bloodless. There was a noose around
the neck of a person dressed in brown breeches and a brown jacket
with a black bag covering their head, but I was certain it was
Bess. Her hands were tied behind her back; her feet tied at the
ankles. Beside her, in all of his regimental splendor, was General
Lucius Harvey.

My mind rebelled as I took a step back. It could not
be. He was a friend of our family! He was Edith Harvey’s uncle. He
was a personable man who shared his stories of war with anyone who
would listen. He was not a murdering lunatic leader of a secret
society. I blinked, trying to dispel the image of Harvey smiling at
me. When it did not dispel, and blood and pain coiled together, I
took three steps forward, ready to murder Harvey where he stood.
Guns cocked from the loft above us.

“Welcome, Loutaire,” Harvey said with a great smile
upon his lips. “I knew that it would not be long before I had the
felicity of seeing you here. Though, you do not have your father’s
perception. Loutaire the first discovered my identity within a
fortnight.”

“Do not speak of my father! You murdered my father,”
I shouted at him, taking a step toward him with murder in my
heart.

“No, Loutaire, I merely issued the order that set
him free. He would thank me. Do you truly believe that Loutaire
enjoyed doing other men’s work with no thanks? It was a shame that
I could not persuade him to join us.”

I moved forward another two steps, but halted when
Guinevere appeared through the door beside the scaffold with a gun
pointed directly at me. Sam moved forward, but I stretched out my
hand to halt him. When she climbed onto the platform, and I saw her
battered face, my ability to control my anger disappeared. I
started forward, but Guinevere shook her head, so I stopped.

Forcing myself to take a deep breath, I could not
act rashly. Bess and Guinevere’s lives were at stake. “What about
Richard? What part did he play?” I asked Harvey, but did not take
my eyes from Guinevere.

“Richard was a necessary tool. There are forces at
work here that you cannot fathom.”

“Such as?” Sam demanded.

Harvey did not acknowledge Sam. “Loutaire, we are
all granted powers, but most never learn how to control them,”
Harvey spread out his hands, “we have. You join us, and we can
grant your deepest desires.” Harvey moved to Guinevere. He placed a
hand on her shoulder. I saw her blink, but the gun did not
waver.

It all became clear, like a
blindfold removed from my eyes. All that time that Guinevere was in
Philadelphia, Harvey was there issuing his orders. Harvey and
Richard had spoken many times, and
we all
had attended the same society parties. Harvey and Edith had been at
Guinevere’s house one day when I called upon her.

Edith
. I
looked at Guinevere. With the blonde wig, I could see the
resemblance that I had never before noticed. That had to be it.
That had to be Guinevere’s secret, what Harvey was holding over
her. Edith was Guinevere’s sister.