Chapter Thirty-Three

SINCE THE GUNBRIDES disaster at Gull’s Reach, the road in and out of town had become significantly safer. Vince sat alone in his carriage as it rattled past hedgerow after hedgerow on its way into the countryside. Set a ways back from the road, the great circular gates of Silver Hope swept past on his left-hand side. A short while later, the carriage wheels crunched on the loose gravel outside Wolfe-Chase Asylum.

The broad steps to the front door had been washed that morning, as usual, and patches of slippery wet stone remained. Vince let himself into the spacious front hallway. The floor mosaic of the Chase Trading Company logo—a letter C entwined in a ship’s wheel—had been covered in several large rugs.

A nurse looked to him and nodded. While he had never been antagonistic towards the medical staff, neither had he ever been especially friendly with them. He had been employed to lift heavy things and scare unruly patients into submission. And little else.

“Come back to us already?” his mother asked. “And I told you before—your animal is not allowed inside the house!”

Crabmeat whimpered and plodded back outside to wait on the steps.

A short, round woman in her seventies, Mrs Honor Knight kept the Asylum running as well as she’d kept the house running when it had been Chase Manor. She waited for him, unsmiling, on the branching staircase. They passed the great stuffed wolf on the landing, posed as if set to pounce on intruders at the front doors.

“Need to collect some things,” Vince said.

His mother accompanied him to his room on the top floor. Everything had been left untouched. She stood at the doorway with her hands clasped. “I knew you’d be back before long.”

“Always had such faith in me,” Vince said.

The room, dustless, held a simple bed and table. He took a bag and filled it with clothes from the chest of drawers under the window overlooking the sweep of gardens at the rear of the manor. From under the bed he pulled a battered tricorne. He shook a spider loose from it.

“Your money is still under the floorboards,” his mother said. “Where you left it.”

Vince sighed. “Knew there was no point hiding it from you.” With one hand, he shoved the chest of drawers over to one side. He knelt, removed a loose floorboard, and pulled out a small wooden box.

“You don’t need to count it, it’s all still there. I heard about the dissolution of the town Watch. You may resume your position here at your earliest convenience.”

“Not sure I want that.”

“I’m not sure you have much of a choice. What else will you do? Sign on with the Sentinels?”

The springs squeaked as he sat on the bed. “Going to be a trial tomorrow. One of my Watch killed two people.”

“You do seem to attract that sort. Will you be attending? I know of your distaste for courthouses.”

He rubbed his mouth with his hand. “Suppose I’ll have to. Sentinels are involved too. Don’t know if they’ll come out unscathed.”

“It sounds as though you don’t want them to.”

He sighed heavily. “Sentinels are going to hunt down and kill remaining gang members.”

“I can understand how the idea of criminals being punished would be unpleasant for you.”

Vince shot her a look. “Have plenty of convicts here. Know full well some people aren’t responsible for their actions. Met a girl in Gull’s Reach. Gunbride. Young. Things she said turned my stomach. Completely unhinged. Lambshead has her mind twisted. Not the only one, neither. My fault. Let him run wild. Gave him a chance to spread his ideas.”

His mother moved into the room and stood closer to him. “You couldn’t have known it would come to this.”

“Not the point,” he said. “All happening because of me. Sentinels won’t give Gunbrides like her a chance. No one will.” He turned the box of money over and over in his hands. “Asylum procedures. They work? They…help people?”

“You worked here for months; didn’t you see any successes?”

Vince’s gaze dropped to the floor. “Never paid much attention.”

“That sounds right,” she said. “It can be slow, but it works, yes. I was sceptical at first, but I’ve seen people heal. I’ve seen the doctors here calm the storms in their patients’ heads, in their hearts.” She stood by the window, watching the patients in the gardens. “I’ve seen people brought here—violent people, lost people, desperate people—and seen them walk out and rejoin society. Lady Eva Wolfe-Chase opened this place to give prisoners a chance to change. To give the magistrates an option besides locking people up forever. Not everyone needs that kind of punishment. Some just need a little compassion.”

Doctor Cranch ran past the door, then doubled back. “There you are. Have you seen outside? There’s smoke coming from the town.”

A SCREAM FROM outside drew James to a window. Crowds of people flocked away from the docklands. He dashed outside, followed by several of his Sentinels.

The courthouse went first. Engulfed in flames, its ancient wooden structure lit up like a bonfire, probably seen for miles. Several nearby businesses caught in the blaze were next to go.

James took a rifle from the nearest Sentinel. “Where’s Lieutenant Hancock?” He took a pouch of powder and tied it to his belt.

“She went to the newspaper offices to speak to them,” Sergeant Tresome said. “I haven’t seen her since.”

The boom that followed shook Sentinel Garrison. The force reverberated through the building, up through James’s feet and legs. Had he not been on dry land, he would be absolutely certain a man-o-war had just unleashed its arsenal.

James hurried towards town, buttoning his jacket as he went. In the confusion, his Sentinels rushed around like headless chickens, trying to calm a hostile and frightened crowd. James grabbed one of his people by the arm. “Stop and think, you mutton-headed lobcock! Get some Sentinels on the street and direct the people inland. You, Spry, get help putting out the fire before it spreads. Bodmyn, Hamlyn, come with me.”

Sergeant Werry approached him, clasping a wounded ear. “Clipped by a gunman,” he said.

“What’s happening?”

“Lambshead. He’s back and he’s riled up his gang. They’re running wild, shooting at anything that moves.”

“He’s in the gaolhouse!” James said.

His lieutenant shook his head. “He escaped. Bribed his way out, most likely.”

Just like Vince said he would. “Most of his surviving gang were imprisoned. Did he break them out?”

“No, sir. As far as I know, they’re still in the gaolhouse. Some Gunbrides escaped Gull’s Reach. Lambshead must have rounded them up before the attack.”

Another explosion sounded. “There can only be a handful of Gunbrides left, then,” James said. “Can’t we subdue them?”

“They’re using the road and bridges as cover,” Lieutenant Werry said. “We chase them, but they lose us. We don’t know the roads like they do. But, sir, that’s not all.”

Another boom shook the very cobbles under their feet.

“They raided the C.T.C. headquarters in the docklands. They’ve got the siege weapon.”

James gritted his teeth. “How did they…? The raid. There were rumours of a new weapon circulating around town for weeks. When the Gunbrides stole from our ammunition and weapons store, they were really there to find out if the rumours were true.”

“We can’t stop them now, sir.”

“Poppycock,” James said. He readied his rifle. “On me!”

Lieutenant Werry joined Bodmyn, Hamlyn, and two other Sentinels. Together, they all sprinted up Quarrier’s Run towards Pudding Quarter—the main commercial district of Port Knot. In the shadow of Hooves Heaving, one of the largest and steepest bridges in town, they found a band of Gunbrides firing wildly into business premises. One of the gang took aim at the bridge’s ornate columns. His musket barked, creating a plume of smoke and snatching the nose from a great stone seahorse.

James aimed his rifle at them. “I order you to stop!”

The Gunbrides bolted, splitting into several directions at once. James held his troop together. “That one, follow that one!” He knew the plan was to split them up, making them easier targets. He wasn’t about to be fooled so easily.

He and his Sentinels followed the gunman through the roads and into one Entry after another. After a minute or two, they all emerged into a square surrounded by high, butter-coloured walls.

James gave the order to take cover. From windows high above, shots rang out. Bodmyn and Hamlyn fell dead on the spot. Before they could fire a single round, Miller and Treffry followed. James and Lieutenant Werry ran towards another Entry, out of the line of fire. James made it. Lieutenant Werry did not. James held tight to his rifle and ran.

He followed the sound of musket fire towards Trivia Place, at the heart of the town. There he hid in a doorway and peeked out at the assembled Gunbrides. Outside the gates of the town hall, they danced around like maniacs, hooting and singing as they fired, intoxicated by the power of their prize—the siege engine.

A great armoured contraption of cannons and wheels making a noise like nothing he’d ever heard before. Eight rapid bursts, a clicking pause, then another eight. Sixteen cannons working in succession to subdue a whole street.

The cannons, monstrous versions of the pepper-box muskets the Gunbrides used, whirred and clicked as they fired. When one battery emptied, it rose up and fell backwards. From the automated cabin behind, each of the battery’s eight barrels filled with shot and powder, ready to be redeployed when the other battery finished firing.

In action, the process took seconds. Under a metal roof, three Gunbrides constantly worked to feed gunpowder into the recharging cabin. Four blinkered horses, armoured like the steeds of medieval knights, slowly pulled the whole lumbering affair forward. The horses were guarded by a number of Gunbrides walking alongside. The force of the cannon fire cracked bricks and broke pipes. Water sprayed out onto the streets like fountains.

Embers floated past on acrid air as James leaned back into the doorway and rubbed his face. “Damn it, Perty, where are you?”

“I DON’T KNOW where he is.” Sorcha closed the curtains in the tall bay windows of the shop. “He said something about needing money.”

“The town is on fire, and it’s your fault.” Orla heaved a heavy box against the window. “You and your lout friend. I don’t even want to think about how he’s getting money.”

“How is this our fault?”

“You were supposed to suppress the gangs!”

Sorcha took another box and set it on top of the first, adding to the makeshift barricade. “We tried! We weren’t given a chance before the council turned the town over to the Sentinels. Why aren’t you yelling at them?”

“If they were here, I feckin’ well would!”

In a flash, the door to the shop flew open, and Lieutenant Hancock ran in, grabbing Orla by the arm and twisting it as she spun round behind her. She held her sword to Orla’s bare throat.

Sorcha’s heart nearly stopped beating. “Don’t hurt her!”

The lieutenant’s dark eyes held her gaze steadily, calmly. “Where is he?”

“Who?” Sorcha asked.

“Exeter! Where is he?”

“I…I don’t know.”

Lieutenant Hancock gritted her teeth and turned the blade of her sword.

Sorcha held her hands out. “I don’t know where he is! He was here, we had him locked up in our sewing room, but Vince took him somewhere to keep him safe! He didn’t tell us where. After what Exeter did, I don’t think he trusts any of us.”

“Don’t lie to me, girl.” She twisted Orla’s arm enough to make her scream.

“He’s at the asylum!” Sorcha said.

She twisted Orla’s arm again, harder this time.

“It’s true,” Sorcha said. “Vince used to work there. His mother runs the place. It’s the best place to hide someone.”

“The asylum is too far away,” Lieutenant Hancock said. “Vince would want to be able to get to him quickly.” She tensed her hand, preparing to slice. “I warned you not to lie to me.”

“The Courant!” Orla said quickly. “I heard Vince say he was taking him to the Courant.”

“Orla, no!”

Lieutenant Hancock shoved Orla towards Sorcha. As she stumbled, Lieutenant Hancock ran out of the shop. Orla slammed the door closed behind her.

Sorcha stared at her. “What are you after doing?”

Moments later, the door burst open again. Orla screamed.

Vince held the door and looked around the shop. “Sorcha! Anyone hurt?”

“No, we’re all fine. But Vince, wait. Hancock was here, looking for Exeter. Orla told her where to find him.”

Vince’s face turned red, and he roared so loud, Sorcha jumped. “Bleddy tuss! Put Exeter in danger.”

“You put us in danger by being here!” Orla said. “I wasn’t about to have my throat cut to protect some murderer!”

“Exeter isn’t alone. Told Ms Hawksmoor to keep an eye on him.” Vince slammed the door and ran.

“I didn’t know that,” Orla called after him. “I didn’t know.”

“I…I know you didn’t,” Sorcha said.

Orla dropped onto a chair. “Are you going after him?”

Sorcha stood with her hand on the doorknob. She bolted the shop door. “Someone has to stay here and look after you.”

“I’m supposed to be the one taking care of you.”

“No, you’re not,” Sorcha said, still facing the door. “I don’t need taking care of. I’m on the Watch. My role is to protect you and the rest of the town, and so help me, if you say there is no Watch anymore, I will scream the feckin’ shop down, so I will.” She lowered herself into a chair and crossed her arms.

Orla licked her own lips in the way she always did when there was something she was trying not to say. Somewhere in the distance, a deep boom rumbled, followed by a shattering of glass. “I can’t believe I brought us all the way here just to have it end like this.”

“It’s not the end,” Sorcha said. “Vince will stop it. He will. He’ll stop it.”