Page 96 of New Storm Rising
I stopped trying to get hold of the binoculars, mostly because the action in the distance down in the streets seemed to have come to an end. It wasn’t long before creaking noises announced someone coming up the ladder at the back of the house. Turning around, I sent Karim a broad smirk.
“Well, well, if it isn’t our resident Robin Hood, Defender of the Beardless! How did you enjoy your little stint in heroism?”
His glare would have been enough to scare away a regiment of riflemen. Luckily, I was armed with a revolver instead.
“Sahiba?”
“Yes?”
“If youevermake me do something akin to this ever again, I willendyou.”
“Aww…you’re such an adorable, big teddy bear.”
“Sahib? Permission to eviscerate?”
Mr Ambrose gave a jerk of the head. “Denied.”
“Ngr.” Karim’s fists clenched, and he was about to open his mouth to protest, when—
“Because this wasmyidea.”
I swear, at those words Karim threw Mr Ambrose a betrayed look. I could almost read the message in his eyes:How could you! You broke my heart! Why would you send me on a task so horrifically heroic? I thought we would oppress workers and squeeze money out of the masses happily ever after!
Or something along those lines.
“So…” I enquired, glancing between Mr Ambrose and Karim with a sparkle in my eyes. “How often do you think this will have to be repeated to have the desired effect?”
Karim paled. Which was quite impressive for a man with skin as tanned as old shoe leather.
“Sahib! You can’t mean to send me on another mission that involves—”
“About three or four, I should guess, Mrs Ambrose. Word of mouth will do the rest.”
I tried my very best not to giggle at the expression on Karim’s face. Tried.
“Sahib…” Karim attempted to swallow the clump of vinegar that seemed to have appeared in his throat. “Will I be the one required to perform further…” He shuddered as he glanced down at the street, where the small boy was still jumping up and down excitedly. “…heroics? Surely, there are more constructive tasks for me.”
“You still don’t get it, do you?” I cocked an eyebrow at the massive bodyguard. “You still don’t understand.”
“Understand what?”
“Just wait a few days,” I told him. “Wait a few days, and you’ll see. And so will those blasted Spaniards!”
***
Señor Maximo Emilio Reyes Espiridion Victor De La Fuente leaned back in his chair, sipping his wine, very much satisfied with himself. Ever since they had squashed that annoying hovel of a mine under their feet, quite literally to his amusement, things had been going splendidly. There were no further shipments of ore deposited at the usual spot, and there wasn’t a trace of activity around what had formerly been the gold mine. Applications for the cancellation and reappropriation of the mining license had already been put in through the mayor’s office, and the snivelling worm should send the needed paperwork to the capital soon enough.
Life was good. And it was about to become much, much better. Soon, all would belong to him and—
“Señor De La Fuente! Señor De La Fuente!”
Thudding footsteps came up the stairs, distracting De La Fuente from the delicious bouquet of his wine glass. Frowning, he lowered the pristine vessel of crystal, pinning his gaze on the door at the other side of the room just in time to see one of his goons come stumbling inside.
“What,” the Spanish nobleman enquired, eyes narrowing, “did I tell you about knocking?”
“S-sat I should always do it, S-señor.”
“And what did you justnotdo?”
