The Husband Poisoning Society, Chapter 34

Fiona unstrapped her saber. She removed her bandoliers of flintlock pistols. One by one she set her throwing knives and daggers on a nearby table. Then she hefted the pile of weapons and dropped them into a bed box. I noticed that she had retained her concealed garrote and hidden clasp dagger.

“I do not wish to give them a reason to kill me.” She said. 

“We aren’t leaving you.” I said. 

“Somebody must find a way to clear our name and save Leon. We cannot all escape.”

“Yes, we can. Let’s go.”

“They will be loath to kill a countess, especially if I am surrendering. We do not have time to discuss this. Go.”

Vincent grabbed Amy and I and pulled us back to the opening of the tunnel. “If she has a plan, we have to trust her. Let’s go.”

I gritted my teeth. I was in no position to stop Fiona. I was too weak from my vision. And even if I weren’t, I couldn’t stop Fiona if she didn’t want to be stopped. I looked at Amy. She was crying. I felt a tear start to roll down my own cheek. 

I sighed and turned to face the tunnel. 

“Don’t you dare die,” I said to Fiona.

“I will endeavor not to do so.” Fiona answered.

We climbed down the rope ladder into darkness. The air grew frigid and clammy. 

= = = 

Inside the tunnels we hunched and shuffled through the darkness. I was crawling on my hands and knees. I couldn’t maintain the hunch in my condition. 

“They’ll charge Fiona with the same thing they’re charging Leon with. And they’ll execute them both.” I said as we made our way through the tunnels.

“We aren’t letting that happen.” Vincent said.

“What options do we have left?” Amy asked. 

“Luckfish.” Ada said from behind me. 

“No, mother.”

“Then what? There is no sweeping this under the rug. We must be bold.”

“We’ve lost our best fighter.” Lynn said.

I nodded. “Two of our three warriors are in prison. We’re all wanted criminals now. We couldn’t have handled this worse if we tried.”

“You need more mead. Screw your courage back to the sticking point.” Ada said.

“I don’t think she needs more alcohol. Do you, Dearest?

I sighed. “As much as I would love a drink, I will defer to my more pragmatic fiancée.”

= = =

We carried on in darkness. I lost track of time. I shouldn’t have borrowed one of Lynn’s gowns. Crawling on my hands and knees was ruining this one as well. We could afford to replace them, but it felt wasteful. I shook my head. Silly things to think about as I was running for my life. 

“Halt, in the name of Duke Xander Haldurson!”

We turned to see soldiers slouching through the tunnel behind us. Several carried torches. 

“How can they see us in the dark?” Amy asked.

“They can hear us.” Vincent said, drawing his court sword. “Make for the spot where the tunnel opens up. We can bottleneck them there, it will neutralize their numbers.”

“Will that matter?” Amy asked. “You’re a dashing swordsman, and I adore you, but you’re one man.”

“I will fight like a man possessed to defend you ladies.” Vincent said. 

“Do they have any immortals with them?” I asked.

“I don’t see any.” Vincent answered.

“Thank the gods.” I said.  

We crawled out of the tunnel into a large corridor. I grabbed a wooden support pillar and pulled myself upright. The pillar creaked, and I jumped away.” 

“This isn’t stable.” I said.  

"Here they come," Vincent said. Everyone get back. 

We pulled back and Vincent positioned himself before the smaller tunnel. 

A soldier poked his head out. Vincent impaled the soldier, driving his courtsword through the man’s eye socket. I flinched, but didn’t look away. I wasn’t great with death, but living in Ossedei had hardened my resolve. Getting used to seeing people die wasn't something I’d thought I would ever do, at least not back on Earth. But here I was. I clicked the mechanism on my hidden clasp dagger, and drew the blade in case I needed to defend myself. As I did so, I noticed Amy doing the same thing. Laila and Ada had each drawn bodice daggers. Lynn didn’t carry weapons.

Vincent kicked the corpse of the man he’d killed deeper into the tunnel. The next man struggled to push past the corpse. And Vincent dispatched him with a thrust to the face. The soldiers were all men, I noticed. This shouldn't have surprised me, not given Hyperborea’s attitudes towards women. But I’d grown used to the Yssian lack of sexism.

A gunshot shattered my thoughts, and Vincent stumbled backwards, clutching his right bicep. A blood stain spread across his jacket sleeve. Vincent stumbled, but didn’t drop his courtsword. As a soldier pushed past the two corpses, Vincent shifted his sword to his left hand. The soldier lunged with his broadsword. Vincent parried the heavier sword. The broadsword’s weight pushed him backward. Another soldier crawled from the tunnel. 

Vincent reached with his injured hand and drew a dagger from the soldier’s belt. Jamming the dagger into the soldier’s guts, Vincent kicked the man to the ground. The second soldier stepped around his fallen comrade. Vincent dropped his courtsword and picked up the broadsword the soldier had dropped. The new soldier swung a cut from his shoulder. Vincent parried and slammed the sword’s guard into the soldier’s face. Blood exploded from the soldier’s nose, and the man staggered back. 

Two more soldiers scrambled from the tunnel. They stopped and pulled the corpses free. Other soldiers began to crawl out from the tunnel. We were about to be overwhelmed. 

Vincent spun and beheaded a soldier. But a fourth soldier charged and tackled him. The soldier drove Vincent back and they crashed into the support beam that I had used to stand.

“Watch out!” I yelled, “That beam isn’t stable!”

But they had already smashed against the beam. And I watched as the beam shifted, and fell to the ground. The two men tumbled to the floor. For a moment, nothing happened. And then the roof collapsed. And a deluge of frozen dirt and mud poured down on top of Vincent and the soldiers. 

I might have screamed in alarm. I don’t remember. Vincent and the soldiers had vanished and the tunnel with them. Several torches winked out as the dirt suffocated the flames. Two torches lay outside the reach of the mud and provided a poor flickering light. 

I couldn’t see Vincent.