The Wrath of the Lizard Lord Page 18
In the distance, the battle still raged on, the roar of men intensifying and cannon thundering in the background.
‘The battle isn’t finished,’ Dakkar said, his voice quiet. ‘Our part is done but only time will tell if Wellington can stop the French.’
‘Just like to say, I admired the quick thinking on your part, sir,’ one of the marines said to Dakkar, giving him a smart salute.
‘It was an honour to fight alongside you, sir,’ said another. He turned to Georgia. ‘And you, miss.’
‘Same to you.’ Georgia gave a tight smile. ‘I never thought I’d be saying that to a redcoat!’
They found some stray horses in the next field. Their saddlecloths and equipment identified them as French.
‘Their riders shouldn’t have been so careless as to leave ’em lyin’ around,’ said one of the marines, laughing.
Harnessing a horse to one of the remaining carts, they lay Blizzard down gently next to the boxes of arms and powder.
‘We’ll come back and clear the dead reptiles up when we’ve got the commander to a field hospital,’ said a marine, taking one last look across the carnage.
Dakkar shook his head at all the death. The count was dead but he felt no elation – he just felt hollow.
They journeyed back towards the port in silence, nobody wanting to think about what they had just witnessed. Blizzard lay on the back of the cart, groaning at every bump and rut on the track. Finally, they found a small village church where red-coated soldiers stood sentry and blood-spattered orderlies hurried from table to table. Dakkar watched as they carried Blizzard into a side chapel.
‘Looks nasty,’ the doctor said. ‘Caught in grapeshot or something? It looks chewed off.’
‘Something like that,’ Dakkar said, wincing. ‘Will he be all right?’
‘Who knows?’ The doctor shook his head. ‘We’ll do our best but if it goes nasty on him, he’s done for. The next twenty-four hours will tell.’
The orderlies hurried Dakkar and Georgia out of the church and Dakkar sat heavily on a barrel by the wooden doors.
‘I really hope he pulls through,’ Georgia said, laying a hand on Dakkar’s shoulder.
‘I don’t know what to do.’ Dakkar looked down at his boots. His whole body ached. ‘I should rest but I can’t help thinking about Oginski. I don’t know if I should get back to Lyme or wait here for Blizzard.’
‘We need to rest,’ Georgia said. ‘We can wait for twenty-four hours.’
Two of Blizzard’s men stayed to guard him while Dakkar and Georgia settled themselves in a barn not far from the church. Dakkar dozed in the straw, unable to sleep for thinking about Oginski and Blizzard and the events of the day.
It seemed late in the night when cheering woke Dakkar with a start. He and Georgia stumbled outside to see soldiers throwing their caps in the air and shaking hands. The cheering went on and one of Blizzard’s marines came running from the church.
‘Wellington has won, sir,’ he shouted, his face beaming. ‘Bonaparte is defeated!’
Dakkar grinned as Georgia threw her arms round him, then blushed as their faces came close, her cheek brushing his.
‘So Cryptos has been thwarted once again.’ Dakkar coughed and turned to the marine. ‘And how is Commander Blizzard?’
The marine’s face grew serious. ‘Tolerably well, sir. They had to take his arm off. He’s sleeping now.’
They found Blizzard sitting up in his makeshift bed the following morning. His body and the remainder of his arm were heavily bandaged. The church echoed with the groans of wounded men and Dakkar tried not to look too hard at the damaged soldiers scattered around this house of God.
‘I knew they’d take my arm,’ Blizzard said, sounding remarkably philosophical, if weak. ‘Maybe you can make a mechanical one for me, Dakkar, with a fearsome hook at the end!’
‘You have to rest now,’ Georgia said, sitting next to the pallet bed, ‘to avoid fever or infection.’
‘I’ll rest on HMS Slaughter, if it’s all the same to you, young lady,’ Blizzard said, raising an eyebrow. He scanned the church full of groaning, coughing soldiers. ‘Lying around here won’t improve my prospects one bit.’
The roads back to the port were clogged with troops returning and messengers flying back and forth, but somehow they managed to cut a path through them all.
Blizzard looked as though the faintest breeze would knock him flat but he sat on the cart, suppressing any sign of pain or discomfort.
‘I never thought I’d be so glad to see Blizzard’s ship,’ Dakkar said when they finally reached the port.
Georgia nodded. ‘Now we can get back to Lyme and Oginski.’
‘I hope so,’ Dakkar said in a quiet voice, looking up at Blizzard.
‘You needn’t worry about me,’ Blizzard said. ‘Once more, I am in your debt – and so is the King! Take your submersible and go home, but remember my offer for you to join Project Nemo – it’s always open.’
Dakkar nodded. ‘I’m grateful,’ he said, ‘but I’ll be glad to get back to Cornwall and the castle.’
A blur of brown zipped through the air, squawks cutting above the rumble of carts and the shouts of men. Something flapped and squeaked above Dakkar’s head.
‘Gweek,’ he said, holding out a hand and letting the reptile perch on it. ‘Pleased to see me, eh?’
Mary hurried down the gangplank to meet them. ‘Thank the Lord you’re all right,’ she said, clapping her hands. ‘I heard the explosions from here. Was it terrible?’
‘It was, but we’re safe now,’ Dakkar said, smiling. ‘And we’re going home!’
Chapter Thirty-six
Deadly Loose Ends
The return journey across the English Channel proved uneventful. All the way back, Mary stared out of the portholes at the murky waters.
‘Goin’ to be strange to be back ’ome after all this time,’ she said quietly.
‘Hmm,’ Georgia said, folding her arms and watching her. ‘I think we all need to pay a visit to Oginski first.’
Mary had suggested beaching the Liberty close to the cave where the Ascender Cage had first taken her and Dakkar down to the underworld.
‘It seemed pretty desolate,’ Dakkar said, nodding. ‘Can’t be that well visited or else Cryptos wouldn’t have put an entrance down there.’
‘True,’ said Georgia, twirling her hair in her fingers thoughtfully. ‘Maybe that’s why they never guarded it either.’
Once the Liberty was secured, the three of them hurried up the beach towards Lyme. Dakkar panted, the sand dragging at his feet, the dread of what he might find pulling at his heart. Please let him be alive, please!
Daylight had barely grazed the twisting cobbled lanes as they clattered up them. Gweek settled on Dakkar’s shoulder as they made their way up to Doctor Walbridge’s house. A few curious fishermen turned their heads as the three ran past but carried on their way. Mary began to fall back but Georgia skidded to a halt and grabbed her by the elbow.
‘Let me go!’ Mary yelled.
‘Georgia, what are you doing?’ Dakkar said, frowning.
‘She’s coming with us,’ Georgia snapped, whipping a pistol from under her jacket and pressing it to Mary’s back.
‘Have you gone mad?’ Dakkar said, taking a step forward.
‘Trust me,’ Georgia said. ‘I’m mad as hell!’
They walked on in silence, Mary’s body shielding the pistol from the view of any passer-by.
‘She just wants to see her mother,’ Dakkar said, glancing over her shoulder. ‘Do you have to march her at gunpoint to Oginski?’ If he’s even alive!
‘I’ve a few questions I want to ask her before she goes anywhere,’ Georgia said. ‘Let’s get to Doctor Walbridge.’
The doctor’s house looked just as it had done when Dakkar left. He strode up to the door and rapped on it loudly. The door flew open and Cutter filled the entrance with his bulky frame.
‘Dakkar!’ he said, dragging h
im inside by the arm. ‘You are a sight for sore eyes and no mistake!’
Mary entered next, followed by Georgia, pistol raised. Cutter’s brow wrinkled in surprise and Georgia lowered the pistol.
‘Oginski,’ Dakkar said. ‘Is he . . . all right?’
The doctor’s living room looked crowded again with Cutter and the three new arrivals. Piper sat at the table along with Serge but there was no sign of the other men.
‘He’s fine,’ Cutter said, his face relaxing. ‘Weak but sitting up. Do you want to see him?’
‘In a moment,’ Georgia said, interrupting Dakkar’s heartfelt response.
‘Georgia?’ Dakkar said. ‘What’s going on?’
‘I suspect there is a traitor in our midst,’ Georgia said, turning to Dakkar. She raised her pistol again. ‘It’s been bothering me ever since I first met Mary. How did you get down to the underworld?’
‘Georgia, I told you,’ Dakkar said, pointing to Mary. ‘I followed her. How does that make her a traitor?’
‘She’s ‘ad it in for me since we first met,’ Mary said, sensing Dakkar’s annoyance. ‘I reckon she’s jealous!’
‘Jealous?’ Dakkar murmured, scratching his head. What would Georgia be jealous of?
‘And why were you following Mary?’ Georgia tilted her head.
‘To find out about the claw from Elba,’ Dakkar said. ‘I’d been told she might know about it.’
‘Someone suggested you seek out Mary? Doesn’t that seem odd to you?’ Georgia said. ‘In the middle of all the chaos? Oginski is lying at death’s door and someone feeds you Mary’s name?’
‘It weren’t my idea,’ Mary said, her face pale. She stared down at Piper. ‘I was scared. I didn’t wanna lead you down there.’
‘Piper suggested I find Mary,’ Dakkar gasped. ‘He wanted me to follow her. They wanted to lure me down there. No wonder the Ascender Cage wasn’t guarded!’
‘What?’ Piper looked up, his eyes wide.
‘He caught me down there stealin’ rocks,’ Mary said, tears streaming down her face. ‘He said he’d feed me to the lizards if I didn’t do what he said –’
‘Quiet, girl! You don’t know what you’re sayin’,’ Piper snapped, jumping up.
‘It’s true,’ Mary sobbed. ‘I’m not lyin’. I just want to go ’ome!’
‘Piper, is this true?’ Cutter said, his voice soft.
Piper lunged forward, turning the table over and knocking the gun from Georgia’s hand. He punched Cutter, who staggered back into Serge. Seeing his chance, Piper barged past Dakkar and ran for the door. Straight into the barrel of a gun.
‘I wouldn’t move if I were you, Mr Piper,’ said a familiar voice.
‘Oginski!’ Dakkar yelled.
Oginski stood, leaning on a cane but holding a pistol firmly to Piper’s head. He looked thinner, greyer and wore a dressing gown, but it was Oginski all right.
‘Hello, Dakkar,’ he said, giving a feeble grin. ‘What have you been up to?’
Dakkar, Georgia and Oginski sat in Walbridge’s living room. Although it was summer, Oginski had asked for a fire and it was clear from his lined face that his recovery had been slow. After some deliberation, Mary had been sworn to secrecy and returned to her mother.
‘Don’t you worry,’ she’d said, having regained her composure after Piper’s attempted escape. ‘I’m stickin’ to the top side beaches from now on.’
Cutter and Serge took Piper back to Cutter’s Cove.
‘What will they do with him?’ Dakkar shuddered as he watched them disappear down the cobbled lane.
‘Cryptos’s justice is rough and final,’ Oginski murmured, his eyes fixed on Cutter’s back. ‘That’s between them. But if they don’t think they can trust him . . .’ Oginski shrugged.
‘So much death,’ Dakkar whispered. ‘It was horrible down there in the underworld but the battlefield was even worse.’
Oginski nodded. ‘Man is by far the more savage beast.’ But you saw great sacrifice and courage too. You saw true leaders who care about their fellow men.’
‘I did,’ Dakkar agreed, thinking of Gog and Bonaparte and Blizzard. ‘Your brother ruled by fear – and lusted after power, which was his downfall.’
‘You won a battle this time,’ Oginski said, the news of another brother’s death etched in his drawn face. ‘But other battles will unfold before us . . .’
‘Other battles?’ Georgia said, frowning.
‘My brothers don’t rest,’ Oginski sighed, staring into the fire. ‘Schemes will have been hatched already – I have no doubt of that. Maybe Blizzard and his Project Nemo will prove a useful ally. Who knows?’
‘But we do have each other,’ Dakkar said, grabbing Georgia and Oginski’s hands, ‘and nothing can stop us!’
A Note from the Author
I took inspiration for The Wrath of the Lizard Lord from one of Jules Verne’s great stories, Journey to the Centre of the Earth. In Verne’s book, there is a world beneath our feet populated by prehistoric creatures and giant cavemen – although the heroes in his book merely observe these creatures and certainly don’t blow any up! In some translations, the cavemen are huge, fierce gorillas; in others, they’re more human.
1815 was a year of world-changing events. The armies of Napoleon Bonaparte met those of the Duke of Wellington at the Battle of Waterloo in June. Wellington was said to declare that victory wasn’t certain for him, even though Bonaparte had been defeated once already. Napoleon is often characterised as a power-hungry tyrant but there were plenty of people who saw him as a liberator from oppressive monarchs and as a symbol of freedom. After Waterloo, Napoleon was captured and imprisoned on the island of St Helena until his death. Many conspiracy theories surround his time there. It is alleged that Napoleon’s most loyal soldiers planned to rescue him using a submarine! It is also said that he employed doubles in dangerous situations. One theory suggests that the man who died on St Helena was in fact one of these doubles and that the real Napoleon died in Austria, but there is no hard evidence to prove this.
When I was young, like any small boy, I was fascinated by dinosaurs, and the chance to write about them was too good to miss. My father was a keen fossil hunter and my early beach holidays involved scouring shores and cliffs for ammonites and petrified coral. Mary Anning hunted fossils for a living. She was credited with discovering the first complete ichthyosaur and plesiosaur skeletons and is an important figure in the development of palaeontology. She was a remarkable person, who apparently survived being struck by lightning as a baby. Her father died when she was eleven, forcing her to make a living collecting fossils and selling them to holidaymakers. Throughout her life, she assisted notable scientists in the study and assembly of fossil specimens and sold many samples all over the world. Collecting fossils could be a dangerous occupation – Mary was nearly buried alive when a cliff above her collapsed while she was out searching.
In 1815, the term ‘dinosaur’ hadn’t even been thought up. This presented me with the problem of what to call the creatures in my book. I couldn’t use modern names such as Tyrannosaurus rex or brontosaurus, so I decided to call them by the names the giants used. Basically, if it flies, it’s a Gacheela; if it eats meat, it’s a Saranda; and the bipeds that the Cryptos Guard ride are called Rohaga. I thought it might be more fun for you to get your dinosaur books out, read my descriptions and decide for yourself exactly what kind of dinosaur you might ride!
Also by Jon Mayhew
Mortlock
The Demon Collector
The Bonehill Curse
Monster Odyssey – The Eye of Neptune
Bloomsbury Publishing, London, New Delhi, New York and Sydney
First published in Great Britain in June 2014 by Bloomsbury Publishing Plc
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