Post by Lorpius Prime on Apr 21, 2007 0:04:15 GMT -5
Jay took a moment to shake the water from his hat once they were inside. If nothing else he was grateful for the clothing, he was still dry after this second walk through the rain. Jack did the same.
They were the only customers in the rather drab inn. The gray old man behind the counter was giving them a rather hostile look. Jay wondered how the place made any money at all: the road it occupied didn’t look exactly well-traveled, the exterior was run-down, and to top it off the management didn’t seem at all interested in creating an inviting atmosphere.
But it was free. Or so they’d been promised. Jay unfolded the scrap of paper Baron Münchhausen had given them and walked over to the counter.
“We’re, um… we have… uh…” he withered under the other man’s gaze.
After letting Jay sweat for a moment, the man snatched the paper out of his hands. With a grunt, he turned it around and held it up to his eyes.
“Gratiszimmer und Essen?!” he snarled at Jay, who just blinked helplessly. “Engländer…” he muttered. “How do I afford this? Erzähl mir!”
Jay worked his mouth and turned to Jack for help. The Australian was just frowning.
“Macht nichts,” the old man sighed. “I have a room free. You will get breakfast. For dinner, you are too late.”
“That’s all right,” It was well past midnight, and after so much walking, Jay was far more tired than he was hungry. “Thank you.”
The innkeeper waved him off and dug under his counter for a key, “How is our friend?”
“The Baron?” Jay looked at Jack again, but Jack still didn’t want to seem to offer any help. “He is… well. I suppose.” Jay really wasn’t sure of the right way to answer the question.
The innkeeper laughed as he directed them toward a little hall in the back, “He seems strange, yes, but he is great man. Your room is number twelve.” He opened a door and lit a lamp just inside before letting them in.
Jay let Jack take the key. He could already feel his mind starting to shut down. He did take the time to hang his overcoat on a hook in the wall, but then he found the closest bed and collapsed on it.
Tomorrow. Jay would think about all of this tomorrow.
When Martin Bozeman Holland had received his assignment, he’d known it wasn’t going to be anything so exciting as his days in Spain nor stimulating as his recent work at headquarters. But he hadn’t expected to be bored.
He exhaled the smoke and watched it mushroom and disperse in the cold, damp air of the morning. The sun had risen over the trees by now, but it was obscured by gray clouds.
The letters had been a wash. The only one remotely interesting had been from a colleague of young Mr. Blake’s at the newspaper. But Martin was reasonably certain nothing would come of it, although he’d made sure to send it along to the Exeter office.
He took a final drag on his cigarette, now smoked to a nub, before flicking it onto the porch and smothering it under his boot.
He supposed he could just rent a flat in the city and enjoy himself for a few days until this whole case was closed. But the Blakes had been gracious enough to invite him to stay with them, and life at their estate was far more comfortable than anything he was likely to get in town, and it was free. And, in the end, Martin did feel an obligation to his post and his job, even if his superiors didn’t.
He’d put another cigarette between his teeth and was searching for his matches when he was interrupted by footsteps. He looked up to see who was approaching.
“Well, if it isn’t Colonel Holland. Good morning.” It was a woman’s voice, and it was followed by a woman. Two of them, actually, Margaret Blake and her friend whom Martin had met only briefly, Miss Wilkinson.
They both seemed to be dressed for riding, and while Miss Wilkinson was dressed in a plain habit, Martin was a little stunned to see Margaret wearing trousers. She carried an equestrian helmet under her arm, and Martin thought that if she put it on, she would look positively boyish.
“I do believe you’ve scared the poor man, Margaret,” said the friend, and giggled.
Miss Blake smirked, “Is that so?” She pointed a short riding crop at him, “Have I startled you, Colonel Holland?”
Martin attempted to recover by clearing his throat, “Forgive me, Miss Blake. I’m afraid you did, a little. Good morning to you, and to you, Miss Wilkinson.”
“Good morning, Colonel Holland,” responded the curly-haired one, smiling sweetly.
Margaret rolled her eyes and hefted her black velvet helmet, “Do you ride, Colonel Holland?”
“I’m afraid I’m out of practice, it’s been some years.”
“You should come along, then,” the smirk returned, “Stephanie and I are going to take the horses out to the river, perhaps by Brampford. You could use Jay Thomson’s things, though they’re rather dusty.”
“Ah, perhaps another time. I wouldn’t want to slow you ladies down.” Martin affected his own smile.
Miss Wilkinson seemed disappointed, but Margaret just shrugged, “A pity. Come along then, Stephanie, we’d better be going.” She started leading her friend toward the stables, “I think, Colonel Holland, that someone should teach you how to use a cigarette. They only work if lighted.”
Martin took the little roll of paper and tobacco from his mouth and looked at the unlit end while the two women walked purposefully away from him.
Even after two generous helpings of ham and bread and potatoes, Jay still felt hungry. But the old innkeeper didn’t seem inclined to provide him with any more, so he set his plate aside, a little reluctantly. It wasn’t exactly a wonder that he felt starved, considering it was his second meal in three days. The same was true of Jack, although the Australian was eating a little more conservatively.
Before they left, Jay convinced the innkeeper to let him buy a couple loaves of black bread for the road. He felt a little bad for the man’s apparent lack of business, so Jay paid with all the money he’d had remaining after paying Doctor Müller. The innkeeper was rather more pleasant as he saw them off.
Not pleasant enough to lend them a horse, however. The two men were trudging several miles across soggy road back to Donauwörth. Jay wondered if maybe he should have kept some of his money to pay a passing carriage, he didn’t know what the chances were of them hitching a free ride.
After maybe an hour of walking in silence, he shook his head clear of such little worries. “So what’s the plan?” he asked his companion.
Jack’s eyes stayed on the path ahead, “I’ll want to get another look at the base before I come up with anything specific. I don’t think it’ll be too hard to sneak in, though.”
“No no no, I mean—“ Jay blinked. “Wait, you weren’t actually planning on breaking into that place, were you?“
Jack frowned, “I was. You heard what he said—“
Jay was dumbfounded, “He’s a bloody madman, Jack! We can’t go attacking a fortress—“
“It was hardly a fortress.”
“That’s not the point! It’s still mad! We’ll be arrested, we’ll be killed!”
“Well I’m glad you’ve come to think so highly of my abilities. What all else are we going to do?”
“I was going to send a telegram back to my boss at the Times,” Jay waved an arm at nowhere in particular. “We get word out what’s happening and they can’t very well kill us then.” Jay’s voice betrayed his own uncertainty.
Jack snorted, “Sure as hell they could try. They’d damn well destroy any evidence before it got out. And they’d have an easy time making you out to be a traitor if you started spouting stuff like that without great proof, don’t kid yourself there.”
“I still think our chances are better of coming out alive than by attacking the ruddy Army!”
The Australian shrugged and turned his head back toward the road, “Well, that’s where I’m going, mate. Come along if you want.”
Jay stopped in his tracks, his mouth open in a mixture of horror and anger. “But… you… I need… that’s not fair!” he finally managed in an accusing voice.
Jack turned back and gave Jay the strangest of looks, clearly having trouble believing that the newspaperman could say something so ridiculous after these past few days. Jay bit his lip and hoped he wouldn’t regret getting into this, although he already knew it was a futile wish.
Margaret tugged a little on the reins to keep her horse from stooping to chew on the grass, “Let’s put in at least two miles before eating, Will, shall we? There’s a creek a ways ahead, and you can drink too.” The white head came up reluctantly, and Margaret patted the horse’s neck encouragingly.
Stephanie rode up alongside, atop a much better behaved bay named Duck, “Well, Margaret, I’ll say you seem much better.”
“Hmm? What do you mean?” Margaret feigned not knowing what her friend was talking about.
“I mean that you’re not up in that tree staring off into space, is what. I was getting worried.”
“Yes, well, I’m starting to think the tree might have been better than trying to control this fat slob!” She gave Will-o-Wisp a chiding tap of the crop to discourage him from going for another patch of grass. The horse snorted in frustration.
“You know what I mean. You took the news rather badly.”
Margaret gave Stephanie a sharp look, “And how was I supposed to take the news?”
Stephanie’s eyebrows shot up, and she didn’t say anything.
Margaret sighed, “Sorry, Steph, yes, I know what you mean. I was just… it all came out of nowhere. What are you supposed to do when something like that happens?”
Stephanie reached over to pat her friend on the shoulder, careful not to slip off the horse; she was riding side-saddle. “There’s no good answer to that. Everyone finds her own way. Still, I was relieved when your father came back with Mr. Holland.”
Margaret harrumphed, “Infuriating man!”
Stephanie rolled her eyes, “Well don’t worry, your mother’s roped him in to dinner this evening for sure. She was so disappointed when he had to hurry off last night.”
“Was she? I wasn’t paying much attention at dinner.” She pulled ahead of Stephanie for a moment as they led their horses around a bend in the wooded path.
“I know.”
Margaret didn’t like the tone of her friend’s voice, “Did I tell you he was reading Jay Thomson’s letters?”
“Was he, now? Well that must have been a fascinating look into the mind of a—“
“—Nitwit,” Margaret finished over Stephanie’s giggles. “And no, not my brother’s letters, the ones he received. He was reading one from Wilma Perry.”
“Perry?” Stephanie screwed up her eyes, “From up in Exmoor? Jittery little thing?”
“That’s the one; she’s got more hair than sense.”
“What’s she doing writing your brother?”
“Mum tried to throw them together at that party last year,” Margaret chuckled. “You remember the one.”
“Oh… yes. I remember wondering what was wrong with me.”
Margaret tried to hit Stephanie with her crop, “You were far too young. And you were seeing Fred Croftsworth at the time.”
“Who?”
Margaret stuck out her tongue, Stephanie returned the gesture and they both started laughing.
“What do you think he’s doing now, anyway?” Stephanie asked, once they’d ridden a little further. “I do hope he hasn’t been kidnapped.”
Margaret nodded gravely, then allowed a lopsided grin to form, “Knowing Jay Thomson, he’s probably just got himself lost and trying to figure out how to ask for directions.”
Book One, Chapter:
-1-2-3-4-5-6-7-8-9-10-11-12-13-14-15-16-17-18-19-20-21-
-22-23-24-25-26-27-28-29-30-31-32-33-34-35-36-37-38-39-40-41-42-
-43-44-45-46-47-48-49-50-51-52-53-54-55-56-57-58-59-60-61-62-
Appendix: -A-B-C-
They were the only customers in the rather drab inn. The gray old man behind the counter was giving them a rather hostile look. Jay wondered how the place made any money at all: the road it occupied didn’t look exactly well-traveled, the exterior was run-down, and to top it off the management didn’t seem at all interested in creating an inviting atmosphere.
But it was free. Or so they’d been promised. Jay unfolded the scrap of paper Baron Münchhausen had given them and walked over to the counter.
“We’re, um… we have… uh…” he withered under the other man’s gaze.
After letting Jay sweat for a moment, the man snatched the paper out of his hands. With a grunt, he turned it around and held it up to his eyes.
“Gratiszimmer und Essen?!” he snarled at Jay, who just blinked helplessly. “Engländer…” he muttered. “How do I afford this? Erzähl mir!”
Jay worked his mouth and turned to Jack for help. The Australian was just frowning.
“Macht nichts,” the old man sighed. “I have a room free. You will get breakfast. For dinner, you are too late.”
“That’s all right,” It was well past midnight, and after so much walking, Jay was far more tired than he was hungry. “Thank you.”
The innkeeper waved him off and dug under his counter for a key, “How is our friend?”
“The Baron?” Jay looked at Jack again, but Jack still didn’t want to seem to offer any help. “He is… well. I suppose.” Jay really wasn’t sure of the right way to answer the question.
The innkeeper laughed as he directed them toward a little hall in the back, “He seems strange, yes, but he is great man. Your room is number twelve.” He opened a door and lit a lamp just inside before letting them in.
Jay let Jack take the key. He could already feel his mind starting to shut down. He did take the time to hang his overcoat on a hook in the wall, but then he found the closest bed and collapsed on it.
Tomorrow. Jay would think about all of this tomorrow.
* * *
When Martin Bozeman Holland had received his assignment, he’d known it wasn’t going to be anything so exciting as his days in Spain nor stimulating as his recent work at headquarters. But he hadn’t expected to be bored.
He exhaled the smoke and watched it mushroom and disperse in the cold, damp air of the morning. The sun had risen over the trees by now, but it was obscured by gray clouds.
The letters had been a wash. The only one remotely interesting had been from a colleague of young Mr. Blake’s at the newspaper. But Martin was reasonably certain nothing would come of it, although he’d made sure to send it along to the Exeter office.
He took a final drag on his cigarette, now smoked to a nub, before flicking it onto the porch and smothering it under his boot.
He supposed he could just rent a flat in the city and enjoy himself for a few days until this whole case was closed. But the Blakes had been gracious enough to invite him to stay with them, and life at their estate was far more comfortable than anything he was likely to get in town, and it was free. And, in the end, Martin did feel an obligation to his post and his job, even if his superiors didn’t.
He’d put another cigarette between his teeth and was searching for his matches when he was interrupted by footsteps. He looked up to see who was approaching.
“Well, if it isn’t Colonel Holland. Good morning.” It was a woman’s voice, and it was followed by a woman. Two of them, actually, Margaret Blake and her friend whom Martin had met only briefly, Miss Wilkinson.
They both seemed to be dressed for riding, and while Miss Wilkinson was dressed in a plain habit, Martin was a little stunned to see Margaret wearing trousers. She carried an equestrian helmet under her arm, and Martin thought that if she put it on, she would look positively boyish.
“I do believe you’ve scared the poor man, Margaret,” said the friend, and giggled.
Miss Blake smirked, “Is that so?” She pointed a short riding crop at him, “Have I startled you, Colonel Holland?”
Martin attempted to recover by clearing his throat, “Forgive me, Miss Blake. I’m afraid you did, a little. Good morning to you, and to you, Miss Wilkinson.”
“Good morning, Colonel Holland,” responded the curly-haired one, smiling sweetly.
Margaret rolled her eyes and hefted her black velvet helmet, “Do you ride, Colonel Holland?”
“I’m afraid I’m out of practice, it’s been some years.”
“You should come along, then,” the smirk returned, “Stephanie and I are going to take the horses out to the river, perhaps by Brampford. You could use Jay Thomson’s things, though they’re rather dusty.”
“Ah, perhaps another time. I wouldn’t want to slow you ladies down.” Martin affected his own smile.
Miss Wilkinson seemed disappointed, but Margaret just shrugged, “A pity. Come along then, Stephanie, we’d better be going.” She started leading her friend toward the stables, “I think, Colonel Holland, that someone should teach you how to use a cigarette. They only work if lighted.”
Martin took the little roll of paper and tobacco from his mouth and looked at the unlit end while the two women walked purposefully away from him.
* * *
Even after two generous helpings of ham and bread and potatoes, Jay still felt hungry. But the old innkeeper didn’t seem inclined to provide him with any more, so he set his plate aside, a little reluctantly. It wasn’t exactly a wonder that he felt starved, considering it was his second meal in three days. The same was true of Jack, although the Australian was eating a little more conservatively.
Before they left, Jay convinced the innkeeper to let him buy a couple loaves of black bread for the road. He felt a little bad for the man’s apparent lack of business, so Jay paid with all the money he’d had remaining after paying Doctor Müller. The innkeeper was rather more pleasant as he saw them off.
Not pleasant enough to lend them a horse, however. The two men were trudging several miles across soggy road back to Donauwörth. Jay wondered if maybe he should have kept some of his money to pay a passing carriage, he didn’t know what the chances were of them hitching a free ride.
After maybe an hour of walking in silence, he shook his head clear of such little worries. “So what’s the plan?” he asked his companion.
Jack’s eyes stayed on the path ahead, “I’ll want to get another look at the base before I come up with anything specific. I don’t think it’ll be too hard to sneak in, though.”
“No no no, I mean—“ Jay blinked. “Wait, you weren’t actually planning on breaking into that place, were you?“
Jack frowned, “I was. You heard what he said—“
Jay was dumbfounded, “He’s a bloody madman, Jack! We can’t go attacking a fortress—“
“It was hardly a fortress.”
“That’s not the point! It’s still mad! We’ll be arrested, we’ll be killed!”
“Well I’m glad you’ve come to think so highly of my abilities. What all else are we going to do?”
“I was going to send a telegram back to my boss at the Times,” Jay waved an arm at nowhere in particular. “We get word out what’s happening and they can’t very well kill us then.” Jay’s voice betrayed his own uncertainty.
Jack snorted, “Sure as hell they could try. They’d damn well destroy any evidence before it got out. And they’d have an easy time making you out to be a traitor if you started spouting stuff like that without great proof, don’t kid yourself there.”
“I still think our chances are better of coming out alive than by attacking the ruddy Army!”
The Australian shrugged and turned his head back toward the road, “Well, that’s where I’m going, mate. Come along if you want.”
Jay stopped in his tracks, his mouth open in a mixture of horror and anger. “But… you… I need… that’s not fair!” he finally managed in an accusing voice.
Jack turned back and gave Jay the strangest of looks, clearly having trouble believing that the newspaperman could say something so ridiculous after these past few days. Jay bit his lip and hoped he wouldn’t regret getting into this, although he already knew it was a futile wish.
* * *
Margaret tugged a little on the reins to keep her horse from stooping to chew on the grass, “Let’s put in at least two miles before eating, Will, shall we? There’s a creek a ways ahead, and you can drink too.” The white head came up reluctantly, and Margaret patted the horse’s neck encouragingly.
Stephanie rode up alongside, atop a much better behaved bay named Duck, “Well, Margaret, I’ll say you seem much better.”
“Hmm? What do you mean?” Margaret feigned not knowing what her friend was talking about.
“I mean that you’re not up in that tree staring off into space, is what. I was getting worried.”
“Yes, well, I’m starting to think the tree might have been better than trying to control this fat slob!” She gave Will-o-Wisp a chiding tap of the crop to discourage him from going for another patch of grass. The horse snorted in frustration.
“You know what I mean. You took the news rather badly.”
Margaret gave Stephanie a sharp look, “And how was I supposed to take the news?”
Stephanie’s eyebrows shot up, and she didn’t say anything.
Margaret sighed, “Sorry, Steph, yes, I know what you mean. I was just… it all came out of nowhere. What are you supposed to do when something like that happens?”
Stephanie reached over to pat her friend on the shoulder, careful not to slip off the horse; she was riding side-saddle. “There’s no good answer to that. Everyone finds her own way. Still, I was relieved when your father came back with Mr. Holland.”
Margaret harrumphed, “Infuriating man!”
Stephanie rolled her eyes, “Well don’t worry, your mother’s roped him in to dinner this evening for sure. She was so disappointed when he had to hurry off last night.”
“Was she? I wasn’t paying much attention at dinner.” She pulled ahead of Stephanie for a moment as they led their horses around a bend in the wooded path.
“I know.”
Margaret didn’t like the tone of her friend’s voice, “Did I tell you he was reading Jay Thomson’s letters?”
“Was he, now? Well that must have been a fascinating look into the mind of a—“
“—Nitwit,” Margaret finished over Stephanie’s giggles. “And no, not my brother’s letters, the ones he received. He was reading one from Wilma Perry.”
“Perry?” Stephanie screwed up her eyes, “From up in Exmoor? Jittery little thing?”
“That’s the one; she’s got more hair than sense.”
“What’s she doing writing your brother?”
“Mum tried to throw them together at that party last year,” Margaret chuckled. “You remember the one.”
“Oh… yes. I remember wondering what was wrong with me.”
Margaret tried to hit Stephanie with her crop, “You were far too young. And you were seeing Fred Croftsworth at the time.”
“Who?”
Margaret stuck out her tongue, Stephanie returned the gesture and they both started laughing.
“What do you think he’s doing now, anyway?” Stephanie asked, once they’d ridden a little further. “I do hope he hasn’t been kidnapped.”
Margaret nodded gravely, then allowed a lopsided grin to form, “Knowing Jay Thomson, he’s probably just got himself lost and trying to figure out how to ask for directions.”
Book One, Chapter:
-1-2-3-4-5-6-7-8-9-10-11-12-13-14-15-16-17-18-19-20-21-
-22-23-24-25-26-27-28-29-30-31-32-33-34-35-36-37-38-39-40-41-42-
-43-44-45-46-47-48-49-50-51-52-53-54-55-56-57-58-59-60-61-62-
Appendix: -A-B-C-