After they were all fully healed and had time to gather their thoughts, Smythe ordered Gubbins to lead them towards the village of Bere Ferres. Just across the River Tavy, it was a picturesque place, a picture of peacefulness at this time of day. That peacefulness was shattered by the sudden pealing of the church bells.
He ground his teeth in frustration. Nothing was ever simple, and nothing ever seemed to go to plan. Expect the unexpected was the Professor’s maxim, it irritated Smythe to hear it. Right now it irritated him even more.
“Looks like the runners have raised the alarm. That will make things considerably harder. Our objective is to get to the Captain of the Mine’s house and find out where they are shipping the silver to. We know that they are still shipping to the government, because if they weren’t, all Hell would have dropped onto their heads. So We’re going to be looking for sanctioned shipments to other destinations.”
As Smythe spoke, he was surprised to see that more and more Gubbins were arriving. Whilst some had obviously taken the Queen’s shilling the rest were dressed in an odd mix of civilian clothing mixed with parts of uniform and armour. Every one of them was armed to the teeth.
Lady Ashdown had sent a whisper to the Marines garrisoned in Plymouth but it was going to take far too long for them to arrive. He knew any evidence would most likely be destroyed by the time the Marines were ready to make their assault.
Looking through his binoculars, Smythe could see that the first obstacle they had to overcome was a narrow bridge that had obviously been built to link the house and the village. Slavs bustled at either end, manning firing points behind a couple of tipped-over carts and rock-filled wicker baskets.
“This is going to be tough chaps. Let’s hope our new allies can get across.” He struggled to keep the resignation out of his voice, the fear of a good commander was seeing his troops dying and this bridge could see more than a few die.
There was a rippling in the crowd, some of them jumping on the spot, others rolling their shoulders. Smythe knew that all of them feeling the build-up of adrenaline and fighting to keep the contents of their stomachs down, and praying they kept control of their bladders.
“No sense in letting them getting any more prepared.” Smythe raised his rifle into the air with one hand and pointed at the bridge. Slowly he started to jog forward, praying that he was being followed.
Lady Ashdown started to pour aether attacks towards the Slavs guarding the bridge, aided by a couple of feral looking Gubbins, as the rest of the ad-hoc force charged forwards, some jostling to get in front, others jostling to drop back a couple of ranks
Shots rang out from the bridge, and aether-bolts slammed into the ranks. Earth and flame erupted into the sky, flinging bodies and body parts in all directions. So it was that the charge started to leave still bodies or writhing victims behind them. As the Slavs intensified their fire, the charge started to bunch closer together. A feature of the older style of fighting, such as in the Napoleonic Wars, it was a common sight to see men bunch together when under heavy fire, leaning as if they were walking into a heavy wind.
More of the Gubbins started to fall as the aethermancers had to stop pulling as the charge blocked their line of sight.
Smythe fought the burning in his legs as he forced to hurdle a body in front of him. Landing badly, he stumbled and was completely wrong footed when a Slav lunged at him with a bayonet. He screamed in pain as the bayonet sank into his thigh. Bile rose into his mouth as he felt the blade scrape off his bone.
Desperately he grabbed the barrel of the rifle pulling it towards him and preventing the Slav from withdrawing. He spat the bile into the man’s face, desperate for any advantage. Holding the barrel, he shot the man in the face - keeping his grip on the barrel as he fell back. Quickly he twisted it and removed the barrel from the lug. Right now, it was better to leave the blade in as a plug rather than withdraw it and cut an artery whilst doing so.
He looked up to see that the Gubbins had pushed their way across the bridge. A lot of them had paused to strip the bodies of whatever took their fancy. “For God’s sake! Get off the damned bridge!” He could not tell whether he was shaking with pain or anger at the fucking amateurs threatening to ruin the attack.
He caught a glimpse of Lady Ashdown running with the crowd and shouted her name.
“You seem to be a magnet for trouble.” She smirked at her own joke and set about withdrawing the bayonet. In one smooth movement she pulled it out, ignoring the sounds of pain that he was making and then poured aether into it.
“God’s teeth woman. You could take a bit more care!” His stomach flipped as she looked up and smiled, dazzling him with her perfect teeth. Strange how it takes having a blade pulled out of your leg to notice someone’s teeth.
The pain threatened to become almost too much and he struggled to keep focus as his vision dimmed. He put a hand out to steady himself, holding on to her hair as his legs started to buckle.
A minute or so later the wound was as near good- as- new as it would ever be and they started jogging towards the village.
Catching up with the others they found that the ad hoc force was being held at the fringes of the village. Gunfire and aether had taken even more casualties and the Gubbins aethermancers were busy trying to heal those they could.
“They’ve got the bloody road well and truly marked.” Smythe cast around, looking for some way they could break the deadlock.
“Karl, go through the cottage” He watched in awes Von Adin started to punch a hole into the wall of the cottage behind which he and some others were sheltering. As soon as it was big enough, he stepped aside and allowed a Gubbins to throw a lit lamp into the cottage.
Von Adin stepped back to the home and thrust his palm into it, unleashing a stream of aether into the packed confines of the room behind. Pitiful wails and screams could be heard, and the backdoor opened. Slavs stumbled out, their clothes smoking, and were shot and cut down before they could react.
Smythe and Lady Ashdown tried to keep up as Von Adin charged into the cottage, leading his followers into the burning cottage. There was a sudden gout of flame, forcing them back.
“Dammit, we’ll have to go around.” Smythe grabbed Lady Ashdown’s hand and moved off, praying that Von Adin would be safe.
*
The first thing Von Adin saw as he stooped through the hole was the result of his handiwork. A charred and headless body lay opposite and another man writhed on the floor, chest blown open and lungs visible, writhing as he screamed for his mother.
A quick kick to the head silenced his screams and a stamp down onto his chest put an end to his suffering as his lungs collapsed and his heart was pierced with shards of bone. Von Adin raised a shaky hand to wipe the spit from his mouth, killing never gets easier.
A shape lunged out of the smoke towards him and he ducked as it swung a sword at him. Rising up from the duck, he launched a powerful uppercut, putting all of the power his legs behind it. The man’s head snapped back, teeth, saliva and blood flying in all directions. He was sent staggering by the blow and was unable to do anything about the stream of aether that Von Adin fired into his stomach.
Shaking the viscera off his foot, the German continued through the house. The Gubbins with him had already secured the rest of it and were busy either firing out of the windows at the houses opposite or looting whatever they could find. The constant stealing worried him, looting was something to be done after a battle, even knowing that people as poor as them would take any opportunity to improve their lot did not help, as every moment they took to loot, was a moment of momentum lost.
He strode through the shattered front door and into a scene of chaos. Gubbins and Slavs were mixed up in some of the most vicious hand-to-hand fighting he had seen. The Gubbins seemed to be particularly skilled at cudgel fighting and wrestling, using the cudgels to stun their enemies before they threw them to the ground and smashed their skulls in with the sticks. It was dirty but more importantly it was effective and it was clear that they were winning the fight. The Slavs on the other hand were knife fighters, either holding them blade up or blade down. Most of them were using two blades at the same time and employed a circular form of fighting he had not seen before.
There was a line of Slavs by one cottage, a guard standing over them. Walking up to the first in the line, he grabbed the bottom of his face with the glove.
“Where is the Mine Captain’s house?” he recoiled as the Slav spat bloody saliva into his face. Slowly he started to squeeze. The man started to whimper as the grip increasingly tightened. He squeezed harder. Much harder. With a sudden crack like an egg breaking, the man’s face gave under the pressure. With barely a pause Von Adin let the body topple backwards and grabbed the next Slavs face with his bloody hand.
“Where is the Mine Captain’s house?” This Slav was much more vocal and gave him a set of directions.
There was a sudden flurry of shots and shouts rang out. At the end of the street, a squad of British Army riflemen had appeared and started firing at the Gubbins.
Smythe ran up to his side. “Looks like the Treasury Guards are in on the act as well. Only logical I suppose - there isn’t a chance that this would have happened if they weren’t. I’m just too dashed tired to think straight, dammit!” pounding his thigh as he said it.
Von Adin could sympathise, unlike the Slavs they were fighting, these were good earth-born Englishmen who had somehow been turned against their brothers-in-arms.
The Gubbins had no such worries. They started to fire back as the soldiers advanced by ranks, keeping up a steady rate of fire.
Suddenly three of the soldiers in the front rank exploded with a wet splat sound. Bits of body and internal organs covered everyone for at least ten yards around.
Von Adin looked to his right and saw that the feral aethermancers were gesturing at the soldiers. There was another splat and more of them burst. It was as if they were footballs that were being over-inflated. One second they were there, the next they were everywhere. Despite the horrific losses they were experiencing, the soldiers continued to advance and fire. Their superior discipline and marksmanship was clear, as more and more Gubbins were hit by their bullets.
With a final flurry of explosions, the soldiers were down and the attack flowed along the street. Von Adin tried to follow them, desperate to get to the front and give them proper direction. The first of them turned the corner and he recoiled as there a was a burst of flame. He watched, slack-jawed as they collapsed to the ground screaming. The aether-fire was so hot that they were dead in seconds.
He practically jumped out of his skin as a hand landed heavily on his shoulder. Snarling he twisted on his knees, raising the aether glove to fry his would-be attacker. With a gasp, he barely stopped his counter-attack.
Smythe took his hand slowly off his friend’s shoulder, palms towards him in a calming motion. Lady Ashdown had her hand to mouth, eyes wide.
“Apologies, you … surprised me. Clara, move up. Get the Gubbins around the corner. Clear it.” Von Adin hunkered down, his hands shaking as he tried to calm himself.
*
Lady Ashdown ran past and lay down at the corner. She carefully poked her around and back again. Beckoning to the two ferals, she gave them a quick set of orders. As soon as she felt them Pull, she jumped to her feet and stepped around the corner.
The road ahead of her opened into a square, at the entrance of which was a hastily erected barricade. She squinted as she thought she saw movement. Pulling, she boosted her eyesight and realised that there was a group of Slavs taking cover behind the jumble of carts, benches, tables and other objects that he been piled across the road. A bolt of lightning suddenly arced down from the sky and slammed into the shield that the ferals had raised around her.
With a casual gesture, she gave a man’s bow, saluting the power of the aethermancer.
“You’ve got to try harder than that surah! I believe that it’s my turn!” She smiled at the adrenalin singing in her veins. No matter how perverse it seemed, she never felt more alive than she did when she was in the middle of a battle. Even when she was more scared than she had ever been she loved the thrill, the rush.
As she dropped to her knees, she reached out to touch the ground whilst pulling with all of her might. With a great shout, she tensed her stomach muscles, using all of her power to push the aether out. Dust rose, and stones danced on the rippling ground as the aether raced towards the barricade. All it took was the slightest touch, with a roar fire erupted upwards, incinerating the Slavs and their aethermancer. The flames were so hot that they did not have a chance to scream before they were dead, the charred cadavers grinning as the fat on their faces ran to the floor.
“Up and at “em lads” she shouted and ran headlong to the smoking ruins of the barricade and its defenders. She smiled again as she heard the Gubbins roar and charge after her. She was not sure whether it was because she had the power to command or whether it was because the Gubbins could not bear to have someone such as her take the lead. That or they like the sight of my derriere in these trousers.
Reaching the burning remains of the barricade she realised with a start that this was the first breach in the square’s defences. She poured aether into the nearest squad of Slavs, whilst the Gubbins charged at another group. With all of the noise and tunnel vision caused by adrenalin it took at least a minute before the furthest defenders realised that they were being taken from behind. Turning, they desperately tried to fight their enemies both in front and behind. More attackers surged forward and started to Pull the barricades down as the defender’s fire slackened. Officers tried to rally their men, but by then it was too late to stop the tide and the defenders started running or asking for quarter. Blood up, the Gubbins were in no mood to take prisoners and slaughtered any they could, calmly shooting unarmed men as they tried to run, almost as if they were out on a hunting trip.
All of a sudden there was a familiar howling and for a split second, both sides paused as ice flowed through their veins. At the side opposite to Lady Ashdown, three of the dreaded hounds bounded into view, tongues lolling as their mouths split into canine smiles. Screams rang out as they tore into a bunch of attackers and defenders alike, enemies uniting as they tried to fight off the new threat. Ragged volleys rang out as the fighters tried to bring the beasts down. Others dropped to the floor, clutching wounds caused as snap-shot rounds missed more often than they hit. Hands covering her mouth at the devastation playing out in front of her, she watched helplessly as the huge paw of one took the head from a Gubbins and its snapping jaws bit another in half.
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Panic threatened to break the attack there and then as the hounds pushed through the initial group of humans and tore towards the melee that had spread out into the square. Those Gubbins with training or a modicum of self-discipline started to form their kin into squares, bayonets and improvised pole arms turning them in bristling metal hedges. One square even had Slavs in it, necessity forging an uneasy alliance.
Torn between completing the mission, or helping the Gubbins, Lady Ashdown knew that she could not abandon them to the hounds. She had barely made the decision when shards of stone peppered her face as a bullet cracked into the wall beside her.
Realising that there were defenders in the houses opposite she shouted to the Gubbins aethermancers “Shield me!” As soon as she felt the air chill she Pulled hard and sent another ripple towards the house that seemed to hold the most defenders. There was a great roar as the front of the house collapsed. Men stumbled from the wreckage, clutching at various wounds, dropping to the floor as Gubbins bullets punched into them.
Satisfied that the threat was sufficiently dealt with she turned her attentions to the dogs. One in particular stood out. Blood covered the whole of its head, causing the hair to slick back and making it look as if an eager amateur had skinned the flesh from the bone. Bright red drool flew from its mouth as it worried away at the nape of screaming Slav. She Pulled quickly and pushed a globule of water to encase its head. Panicked, it bowled humans over as it ran, desperately trying to get away from the water and take another breath.
As the drowning hound caused a gap in the melee she took her chance and killed a second in mid leap with a bolt of lightning. As lumps of freshly cooked dog pattered to the ground, everyone within five yards was knocked to their feet, stunned by the power that superheated the ground, turning the impact area into glass.
Her hands shook as she sought out the third, the strain of battle-casting finally starting to take its toll. Looking at the ferals, she sent a small pulse of aether into the hound as it gambolled between victims. With a wet pop it burst from the inside as she used the technique she had just learned from the ferals. It felt strangely satisfying. If I could just work out how to spread that between targets, I need never worry about harming any of my friends.
She jumped as Smythe and Von Adin appeared at her side and her hear threatened to leap from her mouth. Both Von Adin and Smythe were looking at her with what she could only assume was awe on their faces.
“Mein Gott Clara! I would not want to cross you on a dark night! We could have used you in Berlin! Kommen sie hier.” With a deep breath she set off behind them.
*
Von Adin led them along the right hand side of the square, stepping over rubble and bodies alike What had once been pristine buildings now looked like a pyromaniac giant had thrown a tantrum. With the hounds dealt with so competently by Lady Ashdown, resistance was starting to die off in the square, only the most die-hard Slavs still putting up a fight. As they exited the square Von Adin command a group of Gubbins to follow them. Ahead of them, the village started to peter out, and they could see the top floors of grand house poking over the garden walls surrounding it just outside of the village.
“That is the Mine Captain’s house. We need to get in as quickly as we can and seize any ledgers we can.” Von Adin said as he split the hastily formed assault force into two elements.
“Not a problem Karl. Aside from those chaps.” Von Adin looked to where Lady Ashdown was pointing. Five of the largest and most fearsome pigs he had ever seen were walking towards them. Schwein doesn’t do them justice. Holle Wildschwein, hell boars? Two metres tall at the shoulder, they resembled rabid man-eating warthogs with a sore tooth. The squeals, grunts and screams that came from them seemed to travel through the very marrow of his bones, settling deep in his bladder and causing an urgent need to piss.
High-mantled saddles provided secure seats for Slavs that wore the finest armour he had ever seen. A mix of plate and chainmail, a finely worked chainmail veil entirely covered their faces. Each of them held a fifteen foot long lance tipped with a leaf-shaped head that was edged with wicked-looking barbs.
Even as his mind struggled to take in those details, he realised that pintle-mounted cannon were braced on the left shoulder of each Hellhog. They looked like giant shotguns, and he knew in the pit of his stomach that just one shot from such a weapon would be devastating. The Slav cavalry halted five abreast, and at an unspoken command. The Hellhogs stamped, snorted and squealed but not a sound came from their riders.
“Clara if you would be so kind as to kill them now I would be forever in your debt.” Von Adin did not want to admit it but the Hellhogs had opened a doorway to a primal fear within him and he wanted nothing more than to see them dead. Preferably from a distance.
As soon as she started to Pull, the lances snapped down and the Hellhogs leapt forward with a speed that belied their size, sending stones flying their hooves gouged holes in the ground. Anyone who had only seen a domesticated breed of pig their speed came as a terrible shock. Cries of shock and fear forced their way from the Gubbins with them, and even Von Adin had to swallow a gasp himself.
His mouth dropped open at the sight of tons of man eating pig flesh from hell bearing down on them.
“Now Clara, fucking kill them now!” he followed his own advice and started firing, his pistol bucking in his hands, and aether streaming from his glove. There was no time to aim; he just intended to put as much lead and aether into the air as he could.
Sparks appeared just in front if the riders as his demon rounds detonated early. A stream of aether shot over his shoulder and stopped short, splashing over the cavalry in a shower of multi-coloured arcs.
“Watch out, they are shielded.” Von Adin cursed as he heard Lady Ashdown’s warning. Magazine spent, he dropped his pistol and drew his great sword.
“Some room please people.” He shouldered a couple of panicked Gubbins out of the way, making sure that he had enough room to swing the blade without having to worry about it snagging on an unintended victim.
There was a sudden explosion directly in front of the middle Hellhog. Squealing with rage it tripped in the crater and skidded forward on its face, tusks gouging into the ground and the sudden buck sending its rider silently flying through the air towards him.
With a great shout, Von Adin stamped forward and slashed at the man. There was a slight shock as the blade bit and then blood flew as he cleaved the rider in two, he let the power of the blow turn him on the spot, bringing it back into a low guard. A group of Gubbins rushed forward and started hacking, stabbing, cleaving and shooting the downed creature in a desperate attempt to make sure that it did not rise again. It quickly flicked its head and a tusk the size of a grown-man’s forearm ripped the guts from a young woman. She left her spear jutting out from where she had thrust it and staggered away, tripping over her entrails and collapsing to the ground.
The rest of the Hellhog cavalry slammed into their small force. A man screamed like a woman as he was seized by a Hellhog’s teeth. He stabbed it repeatedly until it tossed its head and ripped his arm from the shoulder.
The lances also wreaked havoc, punching through flesh and improvised armour as if they were made of air. Each lance was left in the bodies of their victims, the barbs ensuring that they couldn’t be drawn back out. One even went through two men who were unfortunately close to each other. Locked together, they could only stare each other in the eye as they slid to the ground. Without stopping, the Hellhogs barrelled their way through the infantry, hooves crushing those too slow to move out of the way. Even a brush of a shoulder was enough to send people flying.
Some of the stunned survivor turned to face the riders before they could charge in again, whilst others scattered, unable or unwilling to face the creatures. Those brave enough to stay and fight gapes as they found themselves staring down the barrels of the pintle-mounted guns.
Von Adin did not wait, having been at the end of artillery fire before he knew what was coming, without a second thought he dived to the ground and covered his head. The sound when they fired was like that of a small cannon, flame belching up to six feet from their muzzles. Canister-shot scythed its way through the Sanction forces turning the front ranks into little more than bloody chunks. Even those that weren’t hit were knocked to the ground as bodies and bits of bodies went flying through the air.
Without warning the Hellhogs charged again, taking advantage of the mayhem their guns had caused. Skulls were crushed like eggs, chests like tea boxes and limbs like dry twigs. The carnage was like that caused by a cavalry regiment, not four beasts and their riders. Those that could started to run, their spirit totally broken. Good God, these creatures just can’t be stopped! Von Adin pounded his thigh in frustration as yet more of his forces were killed.
The riders ignored the runners as they continued to ride though the infantry that stayed, their pathetic attempts at trying to injure them or their mounts only serving to draw attention to them. As the Hellhogs bit, stamped and gored, their riders slashed about them with their kilij, wickedly sharp blades cleaving through flash and bone easily. Lady Ashdown, Smythe and Von Adin stepped to the fore, all of them unwilling to see even more civilians die.
“They’re all shielded by aethermancers and from the way they’re moving I’d say that they are being controlled by torques.” Said Lady Ashdown, holding onto Von Adin and Smythe’s shoulders to make sure that they understood what she was saying.
“Listen, there’s not much I can do when they’re shielded like this, firearms won’t help either, we’ll have to close in and fight them hand-to-hand. The bastard 'mancer shielding them has to have line of sight in order to keep it up. Find him, kill him and we have a chance.”
Von Adin felt her Pull so hard that their breath frosted and goose pimples popped out along their skin. She seemed to push just as hard, bringing lightning bolts down to slam into the front of the house and any corners where the aethermancer might be hiding. He watched as, having cleared the ever-shrinking group of Sanction forces, the Hellhogs and their riders leapt forward into the charge once again.
“Keep them off me! Once I’ve taken out their shield you can kill them at a distance!” Lady Ashdown screamed at her colleagues.
“Just make sure you kill the bastard.” Said Von Adin as he and Smythe stepped in front of her, setting their weapons to receive the charge. Smythe had pulled an old billhook from one of the corpses and he held it high in the St George guard. Still used as a tool for clearing brush, the billhook had once had a fearsome reputation as a weapon in the hands of the English footmen.
Von Adin watched as more shots sparked from the shields protecting the Hellhogs, smiling as he realised the enemy was relying on ignorance. He knew there was an anomaly with regard to aether-based shields. They would protect from aether-based attacks, falling masonry, projectile weapons and pretty much anything else bar one thing, personal attacks. Any attack made by a person - armed or not - would go through the shield so long as the person was holding the weapon at the time. The only reason that he and Smythe were so reluctant to attempt this was because of the Hellhogs. Aethershielded or not, these were “bastard big pigs” and would take a lot of work to kill. Even wounded they would be more than a match for anyone trying to finish them off, as the pile of dead and wounded around the first one could testify.
More explosions rocked the house and the grounds as the ferals joined in blasting it. Whether they hit the aethermancer was irrelevant, they just needed to force him to drop the shield on the cavalry. As soon as the enemy aethermancer broke eye-contact, or tried to divert aether to shield himself, the Hellhogs would be open to all forms of attack.
Von Adin and Smythe charged forward, striking out at mount and rider alike. Trooper Gubbins appeared, leading a fresh group of infantry. Kneeling he started to take pot shots at cavalry every time the aethermancers struck out at possible hiding places.
Von Adin ducked under a wicked swing by a rider and rolled forward under a vicious head-butt attempt from the Hog. Coming up into the kneel he thrust his blade upwards into the hog’s belly. With an ear-piercing squeal of pain it tried to dance away, ripping open an even longer gash, blood gushing out of the horrible wound and covering his face.
Reaching up he grabbed the rider’s leg, sprang to his feet, and boosted the man right out of his saddle. Gripping on for his life, he clambered into the saddle using his knees to stop from falling off. With a great shout, he reversed the grip on his sword and drove it downwards with both hands. His arms jarred as the blade grated along bone. There was a wet crack and the beast dropped to the ground like a sack of shit. Unprepared for such an un-ceremonial dumping Von Adin flew forward gashing himself on the wicked tusks and planting his face into the ground with such force he blacked out for a split second.
As his vision returned, he saw the dismounted rider raising his sword for the coup de grace. There was a spray of blood and the rider fell backwards a gaping hold appearing in his stomach.
An open hand reached down and as he gripped it, Trooper Gubbins hauled him to his feet.
“Up you come sir.” It took all of Gubbins” strength to pull him to his feet.
“My legs don’t want to let me stand. Sorry.” Von Adin leant heavily on Gubbins” shoulder and shook his head in an attempt to gather his thoughts. He instantly regretted it felt as though red-hot knives were being shoved into his brain through his nose.
“Gaah!” Tear sprang into his eyes, clearing just in time to let him see Smythe facing a charging Hellhog. With a shout and a sideways step, Smythe slashed through the relatively thin foreleg. With a ground-shaking crash the animal ploughed into muddy road. Smythe continued the swing and allowed it to spin him around severing the leg of the rider with a forehand swing. The rider slid off his mount without a word, arterial bloody spraying from the wound in great jets.
Turning, Von Adin saw that the two remaining riders had ridden their mounts through the infantry yet again and were readying themselves for another charge. The infantry continued to pour fire at them, cartridges pinging through the air, black powder smoke drifting across the road.
A spurt of blood suddenly jetted from shoulder on one of the beasts and with a screech of triumph Lady Ashdown stamped forward, thrusting her hand palm towards the enemy. Mounts and riders alike exploded as they were repeatedly struck with lightning and fire bolts. Sagging with relief, Von Adin gave in to the pain in his head and leg, dragging Gubbins to the floor as he blacked out.
*
Smythe grinned as the surviving infantry cheered with all their might. Rogues one and all, they had seen more than their fair share of dark deeds but nothing could have prepared them for such carnage. Leaving Von Adin to be healed he gathered the fittest of the survivors and led them towards the ruins of the house. “Be careful people we don’t know if the aethermancer is dead or whether we’ve got another fight on our hands.” Gripping his Maverick he gingerly stepped over the ruins of the wall, taking care not to trip. Can’t end up looking like a bloody fool in front of this mob!
The garden had once been a prime example of landscaping and the Englishman’s obsession with lawns with what had obviously been carefully tended paths, bushes and roses. Now however, smoking craters, shredded topiary and shattered trees were everywhere, further testimony to the power that Lady Ashdown wielded.
The house had also fared badly. Mostly Georgian, but also with a Tudor section it was rapidly turning into a funeral pyre for anyone inside. Smoke billowed into the sky, and the flames eagerly ate the pitch-covered Tudor timbers, consuming them. Where the Walls had been blasted out, the remains of bodies and furniture could be seen, scattered around as if a child had shaken a doll house.
“Hurry! I need to find the office. If you see any documents, letters, diaries anything like that just grab them!” he stepped over the ruined front door and cautiously advanced down the corridor. Pausing at each door he came to he would test the latch to see how hot it was before lifting it and peering into the room beyond.
Finally, on his third attempt he found the study. Papers were piled high in the fireplace and a well-dressed man knelt on the carpet was desperately trying to fan the small flames into life. He turned with a start as Smythe crashed into the room, reaching for a revolver by his side. He fell back with a cry as the Sanction member bearing down on him launched a powerful kick into his face, sending blood and teeth flying. His eyes rolling back into his head, he fell back limply, the revolver dropping from his hand.
Ignoring the pain that flared in his hand Smythe started pulling the documents from the fire, stamping those that had caught alight out. Hearing Lady Ashdown and Von Adin calling out his name he paused and called out, “I’m in here!”
He continued to pull papers from the smouldering fire stamping on them, smiling as they both joined in upon entering the room. Other members of the force entered the room, rushing the papers out of the burning house.
Later, when the paper was cool enough to look through, they sat down on the lawn, divvied up the pile and started to look for anything that appeared to be out of order. By this time, Lady Ashdown had received a whisper stating that Marines would be with them within the hour, an airship would be overhead shortly, and that units from the 1st Royal Yeomanry of North Devon were on the other side of the village and fighting through the Slavs on that side who were still putting up a fight.
Knowing that they were desperate for a rest, Trooper Gubbins had pulled all of his surviving kin into the grounds of the house where they set about constructing defences in the event of a counter attack.
Safe for the moment the three of them set to with a relish, pilling the documents they thought were important on one side and adding those that were not to a larger pile on the other.
After what seemed to be an eternity, Lady Ashdown gave a shout of delight, “Oh thank God! Look at this, there’s a shipment to what looks like a Mr C T A Combs in Exeter and another one here, here and here. Small compared to the other shipments around the country but still fairly big.”
Smythe gave a sigh of relief and stood up. “Trooper Gubbins, I need you to find civilian clothes that fit. Nothing too grand, more like those of a manservant. Clara, please be so kind as to send a Whisper to the Waystation informing them that Sergeant Gubbins will be attached to us until further notice. Well, don’t stand there gawping man!” a stunned and newly promoted Gubbins ran from the room.
A steady droning above the village caused Smythe to look up “Jolly good, the airship’s here. Righto I’m going to hand this lovely mess over to someone hopefully more capable. If you could also whisper the Professor that the Family Gubbins deserve Her Majesty’s Government’s grateful thanks and the running of the mines from now on. I think that We’re going to need as many friends as we can get in this area.”
*
After he had gone, Von Adin looked over at Lady Ashdown. “I’m confused. Why do you think that the Slavs in the house didn’t help the Vampyre?”
“Personally I don’t think that they were there to guard him. I think that they were there to deal with him should he find a way of breaking the hold that the torque had over him. This hopefully means there is a way of freeing normal civilians from them.
I think that it also means that there are layers within layers of torque controlled. Regardless, they’re bloody dangerous.”