“Did
you find him?” called Maria as the three burst back into the house.
“Prin
cess
Philip, yes. Reinhardt, no,” snarled Chloë. “We think Reinhardt
is actually still in the building, no one
actually
saw them leave.”
“I’m
sorry Chloë. I didn’t mean to get false hopes up for you with Philip,”
murmured Heather.
Chloë
just laughed and hugged Heather, “It’s okay! There was good in him… just
not enough! But I’m
actually
happier thinking him a crybaby loon
than evil…”
Heather
let out a timid chuckle, “Okay… if that works for you…” Heather finally
sported a grin, “Okay, where were we? This man has a plan and that means
he had someplace in mind where to stash his kidnapping victim. He then
either had a way out of here, or a bulletproof concept of how to absolve
himself after the kidnapping. So where?”
“It
has been ten years since I’ve visited; I hardly remember a thing… Those odd
little places I do recall were all little… as in just barely big enough to fit
me at six years old…”
“Dame
Heigen,” began Raymond, “When the new fixtures were installed, where all did
the workers have access to?”
“And
that is why we keep him around,” grinned Chloë.
Raspberry,
from Heather…
Grandmother
Heigen let out a small sigh and tried to think, “Oh my word, they were all over
the place I’d imagine. They had to go on the roof, down into the cellar,
all over the place. They started to install the lovely…” The great
old lady sighed as she reflected on the false favor brought to her
doorstep. “Lamps… I retired to the flower garden out back and made an
afternoon of it with Caleigh. The groundskeeper might know better, he was
with them a while.”
“On
it!” barked one of the Shukurae.
“The
groundskeeper has access to the house and not just the grounds?” asked Raymond.
Grandmother
Heigen nodded, “Anything to do with power or plumbing he handled.”
“Groundskeeper
is missing, his wife says he is overdue for the evening,” interjected the
Shukurae.
“Part
of it all, or deceased,” murmured Raymond.
“Things
are getting very rough,” grimaced Maria. “Chloë, Heather, I think
it is best that you two return with me and let the professionals handle this.”
“No.
No ma’am! I’m not leaving again without my mother!”
“I’m
with Chloë,” glared Heather.
Maria
sighed, “Alright, when you three head out again, you take some of the Shukurae
with you.”
“We
can ride, that is perfectly practical,” replied Raymond. “But where to?”
“Plumbing…
Grandma, are the fountains out back still natural hydraulic or did they get
replaced with conventional pumps?” asked Chloë suddenly.
Grandmother
Heigen permitted herself a small smile, “No, they are still natural
hydraulic. Three hundred years old and still work perfectly. That
was craftsmanship!”
“So
the water lines still run up to the reservoir?”
“Yes,
the feedstock comes from the lake on the borderlands…”
“The
borderlands that face House Bretmyre!”
Panic
gripped the old lady’s face as the obviousness of the situation, “My cousin
Prince Albert of the Bretmyre stood against your father in Great Civil War!”
“That’s
his out!” snarled Raymond. “The Bretmyres would gladly take in
anyone
to force House Amsterval’s hand!”
“I
thought my mother’s marriage was supposed to have helped smooth over some of
that,” murmured Chloë.
“My
guess is not enough,” growled Raymond. “So he follows the access tunnels
up to the lake and then takes a gavesled over to the Bretmyre’s?”
“No
gravsleds, just sail boats,” replied Grandmother Heigen.
“Unless
he planted one when the
work
was being done on the château,” finished
Chloë. “Well, what are we doing standing here? Send people to our
side of the lake to head him off and we’ll go chase him up the access tunnels!”
“
That
is bordering on a plan!” grinned Heather. “Hey! Any of you
Shukurae up for a run!”
Shukurae
warriors… noted in most dictionaries as a redundant concept. The
Shukurae had been the pawns, the slaves of the Gelkin Empire for over a
thousand years. Warriors that entire time, they had earned respect far
and wide. Even now, two hundred years after their liberation, their
warrior tradition still dominated their cultural personality, their psyche,
their very being. Caught flat footed by Reinhardt’s earlier gambit, they
were eager to even the score. A dozen warriors, Shukurae warriors, held
the hall in case of a double cross. Another dozen were soon running down
the long corridors of the château towards the cellars and the access tunnels
beyond. Their great three meter frames stooping only when they hit the
tunnels. There on the back of three of them rode Chloë, Heather and
Raymond; Line Centurion Watzkel herself carrying Lady Chloë. The
tradition of transporting Highland Taiks on their back had started those two
hundred years ago when the Shukurae and Highlanders first fought alongside each
other. A tradition that was unlikely to change anytime soon as
generations of Taiks and Shukurae had made such teaming into an art. The
three Taiks, Highlanders by both birth and now choice, were not the seasoned
veterans that normally worked alongside the Shukurae, but what they lacked in
experience, they made up for in pure determination.
“There,
up on left,” bellowed Chloë. “Turn!”
There
was no pause for questions, the Shukurae plowed ahead as directed. Down
the long halls of the cellars they approached what had to be the outer
foundation wall.
“Look
for a big thick door about thirty meters ahead. That should open to the access
tunnel under the back gardens and fountains!”
A
few brief seconds later there was the unmistakable sound of a Shukurae putting
his shoulder to a wooden door.
Only
seven centimeters thick, the
door instantly shattered. It barely slowed down the juggernaut in
question.
“Taik!
Injured!” barked the lead after just a few short steps.
Chloë
gritted her teeth and hoped it wasn’t some poor soul who had just accidentally
gotten in the way at the wrong time…
“Groundskeeper,
bound, unconscious. Serious head trauma,” came the quick appraisal of the
situation.
“Life
threatening?”
“Questionable,
it looks pretty serious.”
“Farmak,
tend to the injured and evacuate as needed. Everyone else, plow on!”
bellowed Watzkel.
The
Shukurae had barely made it down to a jog when they expertly picked the pace
back up and continued down the long halls.
Chloë
gritted her teeth nervously as they ran down halls with much lower ceilings.
Her nervousness was unwarranted: Watzkel and the other two with
passengers ducked lower yet to make sure everyone was safe. Chloë risked
a glance over her shoulder and noticed that Raymond had shifted his grip and
posture to the side so he was barely peeking over his ride’s shoulder and the
Shukurae had reflexively raised his height back up, enabling him to run
faster. Chloë tried to mimic Raymond’s posture and was rewarded as
Watzkel’s tempo picked back up. What would normally have been weeks or
months of training she was having to learn now, on the job.
After
several long minutes they broke into a larger maintenance room. Extra
pipes and fittings graced the far wall while the great feed pipes fed into the
narrower ones that feed the fountains. The bleed water drained out
through holes in the floor.
“Ozone.
Some sort of vehicle,” blurted the lead.
Chloë
blinked, she couldn’t smell a thing. The Shukurae were unreal…
“Tracks
on the ground… and then wheel marks in the dust.”
“Hypothesis:
Lady Caleigh was loaded onto a service vehicle and they headed uphill.”
“Hypothesis
operational,” barked Watzkel in agreement. “Lady Chloë, do those ladders
lead topside?”
Chloë
blinked as she looked across the gloom, “Yes, ma’am. Those should come
out behind the back of the château.”
“I
want higher ceilings,” barked Watkel. “Keshem and back, give pursuit up
the tunnels. Everyone else, topside. We chase overland!”
Four
Shukurae broke off from the group and ran like they were on fire up the long
tunnel. Watzkel quickly moved to the access ladder. It was a
narrow passage, obviously never designed for someone as large as a Shukurae and
Chloë quickly became nervous they would even fit.
Watkel
grabbed the base of the ladder, “Lady Chloë, sit on my head, feet on my
shoulders. Grab my tusks if you need extra stability!”
Chloë
blinked twice, sit on her head? Chloë moved as instructed more out of
reflex than anything else, obviously Watzkel knew what she was doing…
right? Extra stability indeed! Chloë immediately went for Watzkel’s
tusks as the pair started up the ladder. They were going to fit, but just
barely. Chloë permitted herself a brief chuckle: sitting on Watzkel’s
head got her out of the way, and it wasn’t like Watzkel needed to see in order
to go up a ladder.
Moments
later they were back above ground. Watkel helped the other two with
‘riders’ and then left the rest to fend for themselves as the threesome bolted
across the landscape. Now out in the open, the Shukurae turned on the
speed. They were sprinting, but it was several kilometers to the base of
the dam, much less climb up the sides. How long could they maintain such
speed before collapsing from exhaustion? A kilometer out, four other
Shukurae had finally caught up and seven proud warriors made good time.
“Problems
getting clearance for a gunship,” barked one as he listened in on the com
traffic.
“Not
surprised,” barked Watzkel. “Keep moving people!”
The
other four Shukuare ditched their battlepacks and they
all
poured on
more steam. Chloë worried about them not having the extra supplies but
the obviousness struck her a heartbeat later, this wasn’t going to become a
long running gun battle. It would probably all end with a single shot.
They
hit the stairs at the base of the dam and launched upward, two mighty steps to
a flight at a time. Like mountain goats they sprang up the side.
Chloë gritted her teeth as she noticed two Shukurae starting to fall
behind, their endurance amazing but not unbounded. Even Watzkel was
breathing heavily. Could they last? Chloë gritted her teeth,
of
course they could last!
They had come too far to fail now!
Raymond’s
Shukurae lost his footing and Raymond expertly leaped onto the back of the next
nearest one. Without breaking stride with her new passenger, his new ride
quickly made up the lost time as they continued the arduous climb.
They
were all breathing hard as they leaped over the security rails and started the
long run across the top of the dam towards the boat dock. Up ahead, they
could make out some form of movement!
Raymond
lifted a flare gun off of his ride and fired it high overhead. A moment
later the flare drowned out the nighttime gloom and gave them a clear view of
the docks: Reinhardt trying to start the engines on a compact gravsled with
bound Caleigh on back. A collective snarl filled the air and the Shukurae
somehow managed to accelerate again: their prey in their sights, they found
their second wind!
Raymond
tucked his left foot into shoulder straps of his charge and braced his right
foot on the lower buckles as he brought his pulse rifle up to bear. He
kept his knees bent to soak the rolling motion and trained carefully downrange.
Chloë
cringed as the first three rounds burst down range at mach six. She
reflexively feared for Caleigh but knew Raymond wouldn’t have fired if he had
felt there was a risk to her mother. As the second burst struck home,
Chloë suddenly understood what Raymond was doing. He had shot out the
power relay that Reinhardt was using to start the engines! But how close
were the engines to being able to start on their own already?
They
were down to five now, the three riders and two escorts as they raced down onto
the docks and tore after Reinhardt. The worble of the engine slowly
coming online made Chloë’s stomach tie in a knot, Raymond had been too
late. The sound of their quarry about to escape, however, put the final
spurs into Watzkel as she exploded forward.
“She’s
not going to make it,” grimaced Raymond.
Watzkel
wasn’t listening. She wasn’t doing anything but running. Running
straight for Reinhardt and his gravseld as its engines finally sprang to
life. The butterflies of a moment earlier vanished from Chloë’s stomach
as Watzkel
radiated
determination and Chloë ate it up! The
gravsled was pulling away… and Watzkel was obviously getting ready to jump… A
gutteral scream of defiance erupted from Watzkel as she leapt off the dock
toward the departing vessel. She had thrown everything at it, but was
still coming up short…
Chloë’s
eyes narrowed, locked onto to the bound form of her mother laying there on the
back of the gravsled. Apologies would have to be made in the morning, of
course, for Watzkel would soon be bloodied, but Chloë had made up her mind, and
failing wasn’t part of it. Chloë’s scream rivaled Watzkel’s, if not in
volume, than in raw determination. She felt her claws extend as she
pushed off from Watzkel’s back. Only minutes earlier she had been
embarrassed to be sitting on Watzkel’s head, now she was using Watzkel’s head
and face as a springboard. With claws at full extension, she kicked off
from the Shukurae’s head and leapt into the gloom after her mother.