‘Look what we 'ave here,’ he leered. ‘I think-’
Without pausing, Mr Ambrose brought up his knee and drove it between the man’s legs. Gasping, he doubled over and dropped the revolver.
Throwing him aside like a dirty dish rag, Mr Ambrose pulled me behind a dysfunctional lamp post that stood halfway between the entrance to the pub and the waiting chaise, which he seemed to be intent on getting to for some reason. I wondered why. We had to stay here and fight and die bravely in defence of the piggies, didn’t we? That’s what Alexander and Napoleon were doing. And from what I’d just seen, Mr Ambrose could give those two a run for their money.
Interestedly, I looked back and forth between Mr Ambrose, intent on the chaise, and the man who lay a few feet behind us, groaning on the ground.
‘You just kicked those men in the… in the…’ I hesitated. To be honest, I wasn’t absolutely sure what parts of male anatomy lay in this particular spot. I just knew that kicking them was generally a very good idea.
‘Yes, I did.’ Mr Ambrose voice was unconcerned. He didn’t take his eyes off the chaise for a moment, waiting for his opportunity.
‘But… but you’re a gentleman!’
‘Yes. In all parts, Mr Linton.’
‘Um… I see.’
I didn’t really. But I would never have admitted that.
‘When I tell you to run,’ Mr Ambrose hissed, ‘you run.’ His eyes roamed the darkness as if they could pierce it by sheer force of will. ‘Three… two… one… Run!’
We darted from behind the lamp post, racing across the street towards the dark silhouette of the chaise. The beast of a grey horse was still standing where we had left it, apparently completely unconcerned by the fact that bullets were flying around its ears.
Around us, men were fighting and dying. The chaise came nearer and nearer. Twenty yards. Fifteen. Ten…
Another man appeared in front of us, and I sprang forward immediately. I wasn’t about to be outdone by Mr Ambrose! Quickly, I raised my foot and kicked out.
The figure ducked away, and I heard Karim’s deep voice, cursing. ‘Ki naraka! What are you doing, Ifrit?’
‘Oh. It’s you. I’m s-’
Before I could finish, he pushed me aside and reached for the sabre at his belt. I saw a glint of metal and heard a scream out of the darkness. Something wet sprayed my face.
Strange, I mused. It isn’t raining, is it?
Then another flash of gunfire illuminated the alley and I saw that it was raining. It was raining red stuff. How funny. That meant the yellow piggies would have red spots at the end of the evening. That would look really spiffing!
‘Quickly, Sahib!’ Karim had drawn his own gun now - a longish thing of glinting metal and dark wood, and he was firing quickly and precisely. ‘Go! There are more coming!’
‘Then let us face them!’ I yelled, waving a fist in the air. ‘My strength is as the strength of ten because my heart is pure!’
Somebody grabbed me again and dragged me away.
‘Let go of me!’ I yelled and struggled.
‘Have you gone completely insane?’ I heard Mr Ambrose’s burning cold voice in my ear. ‘Be quiet, and we may get out of this alive!’
Ignoring my protest, he dragged me farther towards the coach. Behind me, I heard Karim shouting war cries in a language I didn’t know. Well, at least he would stay behind to protect the piggies. That might be enough.
We had almost reached the chaise when the gang leader jumped out from behind the horse and raised his gun to point directly at Mr Ambrose’s chest.
‘Who the 'ell are you?’ He snarled. ‘Where did these buggers come from?’ There was fear flickering in his wild eyes, and they didn’t stay trained on his target like they should have. His men were more numerous, but Warren’s so-called ‘associates’ were fighting like trained soldiers. Maybe that’s what they were. A private army trained for the defence of dancing animals! I was so proud of them.
‘I see your employer failed to inform you who you are dealing with.’ The cold in Mr Ambrose voice was so intense that I was surprised not to see the gang leader freeze on the spot.
The leader cocked his gun. ‘Tell your men to stop fighting, or I’ll put a bullet through your chest!’ He snarled. ‘Now!’
Mr Ambrose shrugged. ‘Very well. I’ll give the signal.’