In the Eye of the Storm (Storm and Silence 2)
The old lady blinked at me owlishly. ‘What did you say, dear?’
‘I said we ought to leave! Right now!’
‘Show? Yes, you’re quite right, my dear.’ She patted my head affectionately. ‘Somebody ought to show those rascals what is right! Someone ought to teach them a lesson.’ Reaching for her walking cane, she slowly pushed herself to her feet and stood there, wobbling precariously. ‘I suppose I’d better go and…’
That was the moment when Mr Ambrose decided to intervene. Striding forward, he grabbed the old lady around the midriff and lifted her over his shoulder.
‘Let’s go,’ he told an open-mouthed yours truly and turned to march out of the door, the old lady’s walking stick thwacking repeatedly against his back in time to her shrieks of protest. I hurried after him, catching up only when he already was by the door.
‘Do you… think this is… really the best idea?’ I panted, pointing to the old lady over his back.
Thwack!
‘Help! Help! I’m being abducted! Help me!’
Thwack! Thwack!
‘I can leave her here, if you wish,’ Mr Ambrose offered. He didn’t break his stride once. He didn’t even blink.
‘That’s not… what I… meant!’
Thwack!
‘Help! Police! Arrest this villain!’
‘Then what did you mean, Mr Linton? Do you wish to carry her?’
‘No! I meant we should set her down and explain things to her!’
‘By all means, try, if you want to stay here to get shot.’
Mumbling a curse, I suppressed my further arguments. He did have a point. The old lady didn’t seem to be very receptive to any new concepts delivered without the help of a megaphone.
On the courtyard outside the hotel, a coach was already waiting for us. Mr Ambrose shoved the old lady inside with the sweet gentleness of a charging bull, then picked me up and threw me in after her.
‘Hey! What do you-’
Before I could finish my protest, I landed solidly on the hard bench and got my breath knocked out of me. Mr Ambrose swung in after me and slammed the door shut. Through the open window, he shot a last look back at the hotel.
Another explosion made the ground shudder. The windows on the third floor of the hotel burst outward, spewing tongues of flame into the night. Sparks rained down upon the courtyard like a hailstorm from hell.
Mr Ambrose cocked his head thoughtfully. ‘Well, I think our cover has been blown.’
I snorted. ‘You don’t say!’
‘Kidnapper! Villain! Black-hearted rogue! Don’t you dare to touch me!’
Grabbing his cane, Mr Ambrose thumped it against the roof of the coach. ‘Drive! Now!’
*~*~**~*~*
I never learned where we spent the next night. After depositing the old lady at a suitable hotel with less chance of rooms exploding, Mr Ambrose muttered some unintelligible destination to the driver, and soon afterward we stopped in front of a dark building.
It was a large house, but considering that it had nearly no windows and most of it was filled with barrels that smelled strongly of fish, I didn’t think it was usually meant for the purposes of habitation. There was a room in the back that had a fireplace, though, and a few blankets on the floor that served well enough for a bed, as tired as I was.
Youssef and the others never left. They took turns standing guard outside the door and in front of the small barred window.
‘Won’t the fellow who owns this place object to our being here?’ I asked drowsily, my eyes already half-closed.