The Spellbinder (Tom & Laura Series) (18 page)

BOOK: The Spellbinder (Tom & Laura Series)
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Chapter 21
   
Shot

 

Cam
kept looking round at Laura and Tom during the lesson, and it was clear she was bursting to tell them her news. On any other day Mrs. Trenchard would have used the cane on her for such gross inattention to her lessons, but the Trench seemed similarly distracted and kept having to stop to go back to her notes to see what she should be writing on the board.

When the Headmaster entered the room and coughed politely, the Trench was so startled she jumped and dropped her chalk.

The Headmaster took the Trench into the far corner and there was a whispered conversation that everyone in the class strained to hear. Laura was nearest to them, but apart from the word ‘plans’ she could make out nothing.
 
When the Headmaster left he looked visibly annoyed.

The Trench turned to address the class. “I know how fast rumors spread in any military establishment, so I expect some of you already know what that was all about.” She paused for breath, giving Laura time to glance at
Cam
who looked disappointed. Apparently the Trench was going to beat her to the punch with her news.

“Hobsgate has hosted a visit from the Prime Minister for the past two years every October. You all know how keen he is on the value of Military Magic to strengthen and build the Empire. This year the Prime Minister has revised his schedule and will arrive on Saturday morning.”

Conversations started up throughout the room. It was unusual for anyone to see the Prime Minister in the flesh, as Lord Palmerston was a busy man, not to mention very old.

The Trench coughed to get their attention again.

“He is not coming alone. The Prince of Wales will be coming with him, as will Sir Ernest Trelawney, the Director of MM3.”

The conversations started up again, this time much louder. No one ever got to see Trelawney even though they all worked for him, and to get to see him and the Prince of Wales was extraordinary.

“Be quiet. All of you,” the Trench yelled and the noise in the room reduced to the odd whisper.

“I cannot tell you how important it is to this academy that this visit goes well. Military Magic has served Her Majesty well and we must be perfect hosts to her son. Is that understood?” A murmur of agreement ran through the room. Bertie would be King one day, the students had sworn an oath to die for the Queen and all of them meant it.

It seemed that Plato’s views on war would have to wait another day, because the Trench told them she had something to attend to. She instructed the class to work quietly until she returned and left the room.

As soon as the door closed behind her the room erupted into excited chatter as people got together to talk. Laura, Tom and
Cam
abandoned their desks and found a quiet place in a corner where they could sit on the floor and chat. Laura filled them in on what Snood had told her.

Cam
was not impressed. “He wants you to run away from school. That way he will face no blame for beating you, it will become your fault.”

Laura disagreed. “That doesn’t make any sense,
Cam
. He has more to lose by telling me to run than anybody else. The Headmaster might denounce him as a traitor if he ever finds out. It feels like good advice to me, and I plan to take it.”

“It is good advice,” everybody jumped because the person who spoke was Daisy. She had sat down with them without anybody noticing. “I saw something in a dream. There was fighting and a gun that could spit bullets faster than thought. Your friend Mick was shot. I think I know where to find him.”

“That is crazy talk, Daisy,”
Cam
said, shaking her head. “Why didn’t you say something to me about this yesterday?”

“Because all you could think about yesterday was pleasuring Leon and you ran away whenever I came near.” Cam went red in the face at the mention of
Leon
and she remembered Daisy trying to talk to her now she had been reminded.

“Take us to Mick,” said Tom cutting off any further discussion. It certainly didn’t look as though the Trench would be coming back, as the lesson was almost over. The four picked up their books and left the room. Tom looked back to check no one was following them as they walked down the corridor.

As Daisy led them out of the school she launched into another completely uncharacteristic speech. “This is the trouble we Precogs have been sensing. Two of us went to Miss Pruitt earlier this morning to warn her that Hobsgate is about to be attacked, but they haven’t come back.”

“Mick being shot isn’t proof that Hobsgate is going to be attacked,” Tom pointed out. “If he’s been shot, that is.”

“Not Hobsgate. The Prime Minister and the Prince of Wales are the targets, stupid,” Daisy said angry at Tom’s inability to understand. “The Empire is about to be attacked at its very heart and nobody has bothered to listen to us.”

Daisy burst into tears and ran off in front of them. The others broke into a trot to catch up with her. It dawned on Tom that while he and Laura had been sent to Hobsgate to find a traitor, their fellow students were here out of belief in the Empire. They were all volunteers.

It took guts to train as a spy, and there was a high probability they would end up shot in some foreign land. Daisy had come here because she was a patriot, however shy and silly she sometimes acted. He bowed his head in shame; all he ever did was worry about his and Laura’s safety.

They caught up with Daisy as she approached the bushes they had sat in the day before. Things were not so pleasant today. The wind had changed direction and it was icy cold; autumn would soon become winter.

It was in the dip of land, hidden deep in the bushes that they found Mick. He looked dead, face down and not moving. Tom pushed passed Daisy and as his hand reached out to touch Mick he knew the man was still alive.

He didn’t have to see the stain on Mick’s coat to realize he had been shot in the back. In his mind, Tom could see the ragged entry wound and torn flesh. The lead shot had narrowly missed his spine to lodge in the sponge like tissue of Mick’s lung. Tom could see the blood massing in his lung, making it impossible for Mick to breathe, though air still tried to enter. Only the oxygen coming in from his other lung was keeping Mick alive and that might be for only a few minutes more.

On an instinctive level, Tom knew that the cold was protecting Mick, slowing his body from completing the actions that would kill him. He looked to Laura. “You must write a bind to turn the lead ball in his lung and the excess blood in it to air.”

“I don’t have a clue what you are asking,” Laura said, worry lines marring her pretty face.

He spent some moments explaining to Laura how a lung worked and which blood was part of it and which wasn’t.

Timing was going to be everything if Mick was to live.
Cam
and Daisy looked on in bewilderment as Tom and Laura worked. They had never heard of a Spellbinder and Healer working together in concert. Tom lifted Mick’s coat and shirt so he could place his hands near to the wound. He nodded to Laura who completed her bind. Tom hoped he had it explained well enough, Spellbinders could only change things they could imagine and only then if they imagined it correctly.

Mick’s chest rose as blood and shot turned to gas and swelled it alarmingly. The gas bubbled and escaped from his mouth and the hole in his back making the most disgusting wheezing noise. Tom used his power to heal the wound and the lung now it was clear. He couldn’t replace the blood that Mick had lost, so this wouldn’t be a miracle cure, even if he succeeded. Mick spasmed as Tom’s healing forced flesh closed and knitted muscle back together. Mick’s back arched and he gurgled piteously before he dropped back to the ground.

“We must get him warm,” Tom told them. He felt light headed and ready to collapse after his efforts.

“But Hobsgate is not safe, is it?” Daisy asked.

“We shall have to risk it, the Housekeeper is his aunt. She’s our best hope,” Laura replied.

Laura and
Cam
joined with Tom to help get Mick to his feet. “Let’s get him to the stables.”

The four were aware of how exposed they were as they half carried, half dragged Mick back to the house. Daisy and
Cam
walked in front, trying to block any sight of Mick as Tom and Laura help him forward.

Eventually they reached the stables. No one was about, which was not that surprising as looking after the stables was Mick’s job. They took him to the small room where they had spent so much time talking.

Tom went to find Nan Hobbs, the Housekeeper.
 
Laura used a bind to create a roaring fire using the wood in the grate.

By the time Tom returned with a worried
Nan
, they had warmed Mick up to the point where he was drifting in and out of consciousness.
Nan
ran to his side and held him tight.

“Who did this?” she demanded of Tom.

“Headmaster,” Mick said and gave a rasping chuckle, “Missed me wi’th second shot…. fooled him,” Mick fell back unconscious.

“We found him in the bushes. Daisy saw him shot in her dream,”
Cam
explained.

Tom interrupted as there were more important things
Nan
needed to know.

“He’s lost a lot of blood. You need to give him salty soups and beef broths, and he’ll need a lot of rest before he recovers.”

To Tom’s embarrassment Nan Hobbs came over and hugged him, following up with a kiss on his cheek. “Like a son Mick’s been to me. Yer’ve saved him twice now.”

“He’s got to be hidden as well. The Headmaster must not find him,” Laura reminded her.

“I’ve a place he won’t be found. Don’t yer worry yerself, Miss. We look after our own around here. There’s been word from the village as none of the men who were
fishing
last night came home. Let us pray they had better luck than Mick. But what are yer planning to do?”

Cam
attempted to take charge. “Laura and Tom are going to leave Hobsgate. Daisy and I will stay and see what we can do from within.”
Cam
said all this in a very matter of fact way. Tom looked as if he was about to protest, so she added quickly, “Laura is Class A, so she must be protected, Tom. If you don’t leave with her they will use you to catch her.”

Mick moaned; there was sweat on his brow as he struggled to remain conscious, “Don’t go far, must protect…” and then he was gone again.

“He’s right,” Tom said firmly. “We must protect the Prince of Wales and the Prime Minister. That’s what this is all about. It is our duty.”

“Take Mick’s keys,”
Nan
said as she located them in his pocket. “Mick told me about the other keys yer made, but these ‘ll get yer into the stables.”

“We’re family,” she said as Laura looked a little betrayed. “And we’ve seen yer with Mick. Not as we’d ever tell them
Upstairs
. Leave and come back when yer can make a difference. I’ll get cook to get yer provisions and I’ll get yer warm coats.”

Nan looked sternly at
Cam
and Daisy, “Yer get back afore yer missed. Last thing we need is a search of the house. Fool yer friends into thinking Laura and Tom are still with yer.”

Cam
and Daisy looked astonished at being ordered about by a servant.

“Be off wi’ yer then,”
Nan
said impatiently as neither made any move to go.

The two gave Laura and Tom a quick hug and left the room at a run.

Nan
turned back to them.

“Wait here until yer provisions arrive. I’ll get Mick moved in a few minutes. Good luck. I think yer’ll need it.” With these words she made her exit from the room.

“We need more like her in the army, leading us into battle,” said Tom and smiled. “Talk about unflappable and unstoppable.”

Chapter 22
   
The Smugglers Hut

 

Five minutes after the
Nan
left, the cook and his assistant knocked quietly on the door and entered the room.

“I always knew tha’ get tha’ self into trouble, Mick,” the cook said in a gruff but somehow affectionate tone. He lifted Mick up like he was the most precious and delicate chinaware. His assistant tried to help, but the cook shouldered him away and carried Mick out of the room. The cook’s assistant ran passed him to open the door at the end of the corridor.

Laura and Tom sat on the bed and waited for someone to come. Neither of them had a clue what to do beyond finding somewhere safe to hide, far away from the school. Laura was furious with herself. Why had she not worked harder at her lessons? Why had she not studied what Spellbinders did in battle? She had no idea how to use her powers to help herself, let alone protect a school full of students and teachers.

“Their target must have started out as the Prime Minister,” Tom said, working out the logic as he said it. “You and the Prince of Wales are unexpected bonuses.”

“Nobody knew we were coming to Hobsgate until we arrived.
 
And nobody knew Bertie was coming until this morning. The original target must have been the Prime Minister,” he concluded.

Laura was not impressed and couldn’t see how knowing the original target helped. “So now they know they have a couple of bonus targets to go with him. Three, if you count Sir Ernest. Killing him would be seen as a great victory to all of the Empire’s enemies. And their plan is going perfectly.”

“No, it’s gone wrong in all sorts of places,” Tom said almost jubilantly. “Firstly, the schedule has moved forward so whatever they planned to do will be rushed. Second, we are, or rather,
you
are
not
in their hands. That means they have a Class A on the loose to worry about. I expect that fact will give them a sleepless night or two.
 
Thirdly Mick wasn’t killed last night, which means we are already one up on them. And finally there’s Snood. He told you to leave Hobsgate and we know he has his own agenda.”

“Who do you think he works for? Not for MM3. You didn’t have him beat you half to death, Tom. If you hadn’t healed me who knows what state I would be in right now.” Laura saw nothing good about Snood despite the warning he had given her.

Tom shook his head.

“He isn’t on their side, which is good enough for me right now. He might well try to stop them, and don’t forget what happened in
London
. He knows how to kill.” Tom felt certain he was right. His brother Jacob had once told him that it was the mistakes generals made that decided battles. Snood would cost the enemy in the end, of that Tom was certain.

Their conversation was interrupted as a boy who couldn’t have been more than ten stuck his head around the door. He gave them a cheerful grin and winked.


Nan
sent us. Mi’ name’s Fred an’ ‘ave brought yer stuff.”

Having introduced himself, Fred disappeared behind the door to emerge a few seconds later carrying two large wicker hampers, one balanced on top of the other. A couple of black cloaks had been draped over them. He staggered under their combined weight and dropped them unceremoniously on the floor.

“’a think Cook’s packed t’ kitchen sink in ‘em. They’re ‘eavy enough.”

“Thank you.” Laura took the cloaks and handed the larger one to Tom. She tried hers on and found it fitted perfectly. They would need them if they ended up spending the night outside, especially since it had turned so cold.


Nan
sez as how yer needs a place to stay. She sez as ‘ow I should take thee t’ Smuggler’s ‘ut.” Fred looked pleased about this and Tom suspected this must be quite an adventure for the boy. Not to mention a lot more fun than working. However, translating what he said into English was proving a bit of a problem.

“We’d best be off if we’re t’ get yer settled in’t ‘ut.” Fred stood by the door waiting impatiently. He kept nervously looking over his shoulder.

Tom tested the weight of the hampers and took the heaviest one. Laura took the other. Fred stopped them at the door and spoke urgently.

“Let mi go first. No one ‘ill think owt of seein’ mi. Tha’ stays ‘idden till ‘a tells thee t’ cum. Follo’ mi?”

Without waiting for an answer, Fred set off towards the stable doors. Following him wasn’t all that easy because the hampers were heavy and awkward to carry. Laura wondered how the boy had managed to carry them in the first place. Fred waved impatiently at them when he reached the outside door, as though they were being slow on purpose.

When they caught up with him, he pointed towards the bushes and gave them instructions.

“This is t’worst stretch, wi ‘ave t’ cut across t’ field t’wards t’ ‘ollow. If yer run, that’ll look worse so yer’ll ‘ave t’ stroll likin’ your out for a picnic wi’ mi ‘elpin’. I’ll walk behin’ yer, lookin’ sullen like.”

Tom and Laura nodded, for a little kid he seemed to have his head screwed on the right way.

Fred gave them a stern look. “I don’t want yer getting’ caught. Mick’s bin good to mi an ‘e’ll not forgive mi.”

They strolled out and across the grass towards the safety of the hollow. Tom swung his hamper casually from side to side as if he was out for a stroll and did not have a care in the world. They didn’t look back and nobody shouted at them.

When they reached the hollow, Laura put her hamper down and sighed.

“I have never felt so exposed. I kept thinking of Mick being shot as he ran here and I was half expecting to get a bullet in the back.”

“Yer worth too much t’ shoot. Tha’ were slow. Wi need t’ go faster.” Fred sounded contemptuous, but when Tom looked at him he saw the boy was shaking with reaction. Laura wasn’t the only one scared of being shot.

“We will try and do better.” Tom put a reassuring hand on the boy’s shoulder, but Fred shrugged it away.

“Tha’ better.”

He headed away from Hobsgate in a crouching run.

“Little brat deserves a good spanking,” Laura said under her breath as she picked up her hamper and scrambled after him.

Tom grinned and then grimaced as he picked up his hamper. He’d need a Healer for his back at this rate. It was already killing him.

They were soon in the cover of trees. Fred appeared to be following a deer trail, though Tom noticed that there were trees with missing branches along the route.

“This’s t’ smugglers route,” Fred told them. “A’ve done it miself ‘t night, right fritenin’ t’is, a can tell tha,’” he was obviously proud of this experience. “T’ smugglers las’ night should a’ walked t’ path, takin’ t’ barrels o’ brandy with ‘em. Mind, sometimes, if there’s a lot of barrels they teck donkeys along t’ help.”

“No news of them?” Laura asked. From what
Nan
had said it was clear there was smuggling going on last night and Mick must have been their lookout.
 
She was hoping the smugglers were safe. After all, the Headmaster could hardly have shot them all without somebody noticing.

Fred shook his head. He looked unhappy.

“Mi Dad were with ‘em las’ night.
 
Nan
decided not to look in t’ cave. T’ door in t’ cellar should a’ bin covered, but it were left in plain sight. They would a’ covered it for sure ‘ad they bin all right.” Fred lapsed into a gloomy silence.

It took them many stops and nearly two hours to reach the hut, despite it being less than a mile from Hobsgate. It was well hidden in dense foliage from bushes and trees. Tom felt he might have walked straight past it without Fred to guide them.

Fred opened the hut door and Tom and Laura found two angry looking women blocking their way. One carried a pistol which she waved in their faces.

“Stand still an’ put yer ‘ands up.”

Fred pushed past her to the other women and whispered in her ear.

“Put t’ gun down, Esme, these two nobs helped Mick. ‘e’s bin shot.”

Esme’s face paled and she lowered the gun to her side.

“Dawn, is ee’…?”

“Nay lass, just bad hurt, Young gentleman ‘ere used ‘is ‘ealing powers and brought ‘im back from t’ door o’ death. Is that not right?”

“I tried my best,” Tom said. He was relieved the gun no longer pointed at him. He remembered when that sort of thing never used to happen. It was back only a few weeks ago.

“No sign of the smugglers?” Laura asked.

“There’s bin no sign of t’ best fishermen in t’ county,” Dawn corrected, “It taint smuggling when yer do it t’ put bread on t’ table or feed t’ children.” The woman paused and then continued in a softer voice. “Some of t’ other fishermen out last night say they heard gunshots. They said some o’ them were so rapid it was like a squad o’ infantry had shot t’ weapons, all at once.”

Tom and Laura made no comment on that as they remembered what Daisy had told them of her dream.

They all made their way into the hut and sat down. Despite her tough stance it was obvious to Tom and Laura that Dawn was close to breaking down. She must have family among the missing.

Tom decided that talking might take their minds off the missing men. “Would you tell us about Smugglers Cove?”

Dawn smiled. “Aye, wi’d be better talking than blubbin’. Esme brew us some tea.”

“A got to get back,” Fred said. He dashed out of the hut leaving them alone with the women.

Dawn sat down and told them about the history of smuggling. The village had been doing it for longer than anyone could remember. Earning money for luxuries in good times and keeping families from starving in the bad.

The whole village was involved in it. The Revenuers visited and searched the village at regular intervals, but the only real danger was being caught at sea before the boats reached the safety of Smugglers Cove.

The cove had been in use long before Hobsgate was built. The house had been built by a villager who returned from the city a rich man. He incorporated the end of the tunnel into his cellars and it was business as usual.

He helped them make fools of the Revenue men. Not that he smuggled himself, but he knew how much it meant to the village and he found it fun to tweak the Revenue’s noses as they raged at the corruption of the locals. When they found barrels of brandy in his cellar he claimed he’d bought them from smugglers and the Revenue took his house as forfeit. Only the fishermen knew the route through the Devil’s Teeth into the cove and the tunnel remained a secret.

“Couldn’t somebody have followed them?” asked Laura, guessing that somebody must have, somehow.

Dawn shook her heard. “Tha’d need a ghost boat to do it. A boat th’t made no sound and no hull t’ see agin t’ sky. Nay, it couldn’t be done.”

Laura thought differently, but she did not voice her beliefs.
‘It must be possible; maybe a Spellbinder could do it.’
She considered various transformations that might work. She could turn into a bird and follow them, but without knowing what sight-lines they were using to change course, one bit of water looks very much like another. She wondered if she could make a boat and all the people in it transparent like glass. It seemed unlikely.

Laura was getting hungry. She opened the hampers and invited Esme and Dawn to join them. The hampers contained cooked meats, bread and butter, and wine to help wash it down. It was towards the end of the meal that they heard the first shot. Birds took to wing from the trees sounding like a ripple of applause.

The sound of a pistol shot might carry a mile in the country especially when the air was as still as it was just then, but this sounded louder than a pistol and somehow much more sinister. They waited in silence, putting down their food, which none of them now felt like eating. There was a second shot, then a short period of silence.

A few minutes later there was a strange rattling sound. As the fisherman had said, it sounded like many rifles firing rapidly one after the other. It wasn’t that loud, but it was distinctive and frightening.

Tom and Laura looked at each other and thought about their friends back at Hobsgate.

The two women crossed themselves and Esme began to sob.

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