Isabella's Heiress (30 page)

This time it was Father Henry's turn to nod, “She will be met if she makes it out, have no fear of that.”

“Good. It may not come to it but if I cannot persuade her, then preparations will need to be in place.”

Father Henry went to say something else but stopped himself.

“What is it, Henry? You know you have no reason to hold back here?”

“I would not ask this, as I know she is your initiate but, under the circumstances, and with everything that is at stake, it would be remiss of me not to. How is it going with her task? Surely all this is taking away from her time on that.”

Father Eamon groaned inwardly, he knew that Father Henry was right but there was very little he could do about it. Emma was dead set on going after Taryn. For all his gentle cajoling to try to get her to think about her own well being, she was determined to go ahead with this. He was torn between admiration for her loyalty to Taryn and frustration at her complete disregard for herself.

Father Henry turned to walk off but stopped and turned back. “I meant to ask, who was that man who pulled Ignacia clear?”

Father Eamon paused, unsure how to answer. “It would
be better to forget about him.”

Father Henry frowned. “As you say but I was not the only one who saw him.”

“I know. But for now there are more pressing matters, would you not agree?”

Father Henry grunted before turning and walking back inside. Father Eamon watched the older man enter the sanctuary. Father Henry had become a guide maybe fifty years after he had and had shown himself to be a good, reliable fighter on many occasions in the past. It was a trait that Father Eamon knew would be in more and more demand in the future.

Emma's mind was racing. She hadn't felt this alive since she was, well, alive. The plan that had started off as a swirling mass of ideas was now fully formed. All she had to do was find the one person to help it all fall into place. One man to be precise but she had no idea where he was. She hadn't seen or heard of Rodolfo since he had pulled Sister Ignacia out of the way of the Soul Gorger. She knew he could move between realms, that much had been obvious since he had protected her from the Gentle Man but since then she had been trying to work out how he did it. At first she could not work it out but thinking back to what Father Eamon had said when she had first come here, she had started to work on a theory as to how he managed it. If she was right, then he would be pivotal in helping her get Taryn out. All she had to do was find him and that wasn't proving so easy. Ever since she had settled on rescuing Taryn, she had been keeping one eye open for signs of his presence but had had no joy. She had felt herself being watched on a number of occasions but could never be
sure if it was him or the guides, she suspected that it was probably both but neither allowed themselves to be seen.

Now she was walking along Thames Street towards Elizabeth's house. Elizabeth was someone else she had not seen since that day. It surprised her and hurt a little that the one person resident in this realm who had shown her real kindness was nowhere to be found when she needed her the most. She had knocked on her door almost everyday until she had finally given up on getting an answer. Today she didn't expect it to be any different but she knew that Elizabeth was the only one in the realm that would have any idea where Rodolfo may be.
What do I say if she's there? Will she know where Rodolfo is? Will she take me if she does? Shit these boots are killing me; I should have worn the trainers.

Emma reached the corner of Thames Street and turned to face Elizabeth's front door. Her house was as decrepit as all the ones around it but, once again, the front step was clean and the windows, opaque and warped though they were, were cleaner than the ones on the houses either side.

Emma knocked on the door and waited but there was nothing. She tried again and got no response but just as she went to turn away the door opened, its splintered base scraping along the floor.

Elizabeth's head peered round the corner but Emma didn't recognise the frightened woman looking back at her whose face was puffy and covered in pustules.

“Elizabeth, what happened?”

“'Tis nothing for you to concern yourself with. 'Tis but a trifle.”

“A trifle? It doesn't look like a trifle from here?”

Elizabeth's eyes dropped to the floor, “'Tis as I said, ‘Tis nothing but a trifle.”

She went to close the door but Emma moved to stop her. “Please, Elizabeth, I must speak to you.”

There was panic in Elizabeth's eyes as she tried to extricate herself from this situation, “there is nothing I can do to help you and you would be well advised to stay clear of residents in this realm. They will all betray you as soon as look at you, now please leave me be!”

Emma watched as Elizabeth's trembling hands attempted to work the latch on her door as she tried to force it shut. She decided to try a different tack.

“Elizabeth, you know what they say about me. Who I am supposed to be, what I am supposed to become.”

Elizabeth froze on the spot, her eyes fixed on Emma's.

“Everybody knows. ‘Tis all anybody speaks of.”

“Then you know that if I fail, it won't only be me that suffers. Please I'm begging you; all I want to do is talk, nothing else. All I want is some advice and then you will never see me again.”

Emma watched as Elizabeth weighed up her options in her head. Slowly, she opened the door and stepped to one side. “Please, come in.”

Emma felt a wave of relief as she stepped inside and walked into the living room. The relief left almost as soon as it had arrived as she looked around the room. The few sticks of furniture there were, were either broken or on their sides.

“Elizabeth, what happened here?”

“Can't you guess?” Elizabeth walked into the room slowly, wincing with every step. Her voice was low and filled with apprehension, “Ever since people heard the rumours about you, there has been a feeling of hope that maybe things are to change and with that had come a growing defiance. Then Father Eamon and the guides beat the Soul Gorger and people who would have otherwise tried to stay clear of such things have been trying to
help other initiates but the dark riders take those that are caught doing such things. They just disappear.

“They are taken to Newgate and we do not see them again. Those that come out are only released after years inside there and they are…different.”

Elizabeth's voice trailed off and Emma felt a shiver run down her spine. Taryn was there; she knew it even if no one would tell her as much. Now to hear Elizabeth talk about this made her wonder about her own actions.

“Elizabeth, I need to ask you a question. Are you aware of a man called Rodolfo?”

Elizabeth paused and thought about the question whilst Emma tried her best to wait patiently for an answer. After a while Emma felt like she might leap across the floor and shake it out of her but then she came back to life.

“I do not think so. You will have to forgive me, I have been here so long and it takes me a while to try to bring back all those I have met. What is he like?”

Emma described him to her and recognition crept into Elizabeth's eyes.

“Ah yes, I know who you mean but I do not know him by that name, indeed I know him by no name at all although I have seen him on rare occasions. He is only seen at night and then it is only in the shadows. No one dares go out after dark so no one ever speaks to him. It is said he is searching for something…or someone.”

Emma's heart lifted and her words started tumbling out of her mouth. “Have you seen him? Do you know where he is?”

“No, no one ever knows where he comes from but he is usually seen around Billingsgate. ‘Tis said by people that a restless spirit haunts it. No one will go near there now, even the Gentle Men and riders are said to avoid it.”

Emma looked out the window. Through the warped glass she could see a road curling away into the distance with houses leaning forward like giant oaks ready to come crashing down.

“Where is Billingsgate? Is it far?”

“'Tis not far. ‘Tis but a stones throw from here.”

“Will you show me?” Emma knew she was pushing her luck but she had to try it. Time was not on her side and she was becoming more aware of it as every day passed.

“I cannot. I have done too much already.” Elizabeth's eyes flitted around the room as she responded. It was obvious to Emma that pushing any further would be pointless.

“Will you at least tell me how to get there?”

“That is easy. Leave this abode; head back east and follow the road as it bears right. Down there you will see a small inlet with three ships. They are deep-sea barks waiting to offload their cargo. They will wait there until the end of time and like everything in this place, rot as they do but head past them and you will be at the entrance to Billingsgate. Be careful, the docks have never been a safe place to go after dark and this world is no different. Take care not to make your presence obvious.”

Emma knew exactly where she meant. She had passed it on many occasions with Father Eamon and had looked over at the ships waiting at anchor. Their masts, poking upwards, swaying gently left then right at a slow metronomic pace always seemed to have a calming effect on her.

Emma rose from her seat and went to give Elizabeth a hug by way of thanks but Elizabeth drew back. The sleeves of her dress fell away and Emma recoiled in horror at the sight of her lower arms. They were covered in the same pustules as on her face as well as lesions.

“Oh my god, Elizabeth, what's happened to your arms?”

“Please go, now! I must collude with you no more!”

Elizabeth rushed passed Emma but was careful not to touch her as she did so. She reached the door and flung it open. “I must ask you to leave now!”

“E..Elizabeth is there anything I..”

“Go, now! There is nothing else for you here!”

Tears welled in Elizabeth's eyes and Emma headed for the door. As she walked through it she turned back, but Elizabeth's eyes were fixed on the floorboards and she was already closing the door.

As it slammed, Emma tried to take in what she had just seen. Her feelings of shock were mixed with regret at her reaction. She wanted to go back in and apologise, though she knew that it would have done no good, but it worried her to see Elizabeth in this way. Instead she turned and looked down the street towards the bend in the road that led to the docks. She headed away from Elizabeth's house and looked back only once but could not see any movement. It hurt her that she was suffering but then wasn't everybody else in this place? Emma thought about how her time here had hardened her and she didn't like it.
If I get out of this place, I won't ever leave another person in that situation again.

She made her way slowly down Thames Street towards the inlet until she found herself at the bend in the road. Here, St. Mary at Hill, a steep narrow passageway that led upwards towards Tower Street joined it. It sat opposite the inlet and its dark presence made Emma a little uncomfortable. She tucked herself in under the eaves of a large house that looked out over the ships and studied the ground ahead of her. The road peeled away until it stopped at the inlet. There it split into two and worked its way around the ships until it arrived at the rivers edge. By the ships were wooden cranes, their jibs pointing skywards
as the masts of the ships swayed gently next to them, the sound of the waves lapping against their hulls slipping through the air.

Emma stepped gingerly out into the road and headed towards the first of the ships. The wood on the hull was rotting and its shredded rigging creaked in protest as it fought to keep the masts and their spars from toppling over.

A film of water and slime underfoot caused Emma to slip over. As she picked herself up she heard a groaning noise from the other side of the dock.

Jesus, what was that?

She froze and waited to see if it happened again but there was nothing, just silence. She got up; rubbing her bruised ankles and headed towards the river. Other ships sat at anchor waiting for spaces in the dock that would never become available. All were low in the water, weighed down by their cargoes of tobacco and spices from the new worlds.

The groaning noise drifted back across from the other side of the ships and Emma ducked behind some bales of wool that sat by a crane. She looked over to where the sound came from and saw a set of barrels piled against a wall. By them were four large kegs standing side by side next to a mixture of ropes coiled haphazardly in a corner.

“Don't you worry, sweetie, ‘tis just the barrels groaning as they breathe.”

The voice caused Emma to spin round. A man was standing in the shadow of a large warehouse facing onto the Thames; he walked out into the open and Emma saw he was limping. He leant on a wooden crutch and seemed to be looking her over.

“Yeah, just the barrels, but ain't all that'll be groanin' by the time we're done with her. In't that right, Unwin?”