2
Mycroft soon found the dirigible descending to the new port at Bombay. The new development was moving to the East then just when then the coal fired trains traveled across the continent. It brought in developments that soon springboard the section of the world into a different era there. The coal trains evolved to the steam pullers and then the four wheelers replaced the pulled carts. The new findings in steam engine and then the prototypes of electricity was well received by the colonist who felt it made them different from the natives.The development was hindered by the high range of the Himalayans, It represented a barrier and presented the sea the only fastest access until dirigibles made it presence known. In the short period of one year’s period, the journey was cut short by the dirigibles. It soon brought about by the sprouting of dirigible ports.
“Welcome to India, Mr. Holmes.” The officer greeted him there at the dirigible port named Elizabeth. The officer was dressed in a military uniform and was escorted by one non-commissioned officer. “My name is Lieutenant Bromhead Chard Bromhead of Surrey.”
Chad Bromhead was a tall man with the upright shoulders that reflected his military training. Besides his uniform, he had one his Webley pistol on the reversed holster on the center side of his belt and the officer sword hung lower at the left.
“I am assigned by London to assist you. This is Private Hicks who is familiar with the workings of the nature which you are to encounter.” The private was similarly dressed but he carried a rifle; a Western Winchester 73 rifle and a double gauged sawn off shotgun that was holstered at his back. The man was bald at the head but he sport a thick moustache over his upper lip and the thick side burns that sprouted from next to his ears. He was also one head taller than the officer.
“Thank you, Lieutenant. I am keen to get myself into a hotel which was the term here for the boarding houses. I duly needed a bath badly.” Mycroft popped in his boarding ticket into the wooden contraption which punched a series of holes into it. He held with reluctance his personal travel document in his hand.
“Don’t worry, old chap. Those go to the next counter.” There was a human clerk there with his round rimmed glasses and his right hand held the rubber stamp.
“We have advanced here but there is something we still do the old way.”
Bromhead took Mycroft documents to have the clerk processed it. It was all done for within the hour and then he was immersed in the cooling water in the bath. His check in at the hotel was the old method and soon he was immersed in his bath after two days of travelling. His mind went back to the years he was called by the man who will later shaped his life as an officer of the Government.
“Mycroft Holmes, you are a fine gentleman and a finer officer if you are to join them.” Mycroft stood there at the balcony on the prestigious building at Sandhurst. He was to graduate in another week then but the offer to work in a clandestine position appealed to him. He agreed and that officer name was Colonel Durnford. The Colonel was later to be known at the battle of Zulu. His assignments were mostly in the main continent and old England but India was his first so far away.
“Ah…” Mycroft leaned back on the bath tub side resting his head there on the wet towel. His arms and legs were hanging on the sides with the smaller tub offered to him. He heard the door opened but he kept his eyes closed. He heard the soft steps approaching the tub but he did not moved. He heard the door to his room opened and then the footsteps.
“Please leave the towels by the chair.” Mycroft layback on the tub and sighed. He heard the steps getting closer and then he felt the thin wire going around his neck. He reached up for the wire but his legs were held down. He opened his eyes and saw the assailants. There were three of them and he was running out of breath. He did the only thing he knew which was to reach into the tub, and drew the dagger he had left there in the scabbard. He pulled it out and then plunged the dagger into the assailant in the left arm. That eased the pressure on the wire and he was able to pull in a breath. With his lungs filled up, Mycroft used his strength to tense his legs and then the kick to release his legs. He then turned his body to topple the tub, and then rolled over. His assailants went retreated while Mycroft pushed himself up after dropping the dagger of his. He then faced his assailants in his half crouched position. There was the one he injured on the left arm and the other was rubbing the right elbow. They were dressed in the plain flared pants and were shirtless. Their head gears were the loose cloths swatted on the head. The wire was on the wet floor but the hands were holding then daggers. Unlike the manufactured dagger from the workshops their daggers were crude with the blade slotted into the wooden handle. It carried no marks but the blades were serrated at the edge.
“I won’t come in just with the daggers when I am facing a mad man like myself.” Mycroft replied. “At the back of you are my bags and in it are to revolvers. English made with the pride of workmanship.”
The two assailants stood apart and held their hands out with the daggers pointed.
“I guessed you are not keen.” Mycroft leaned down to pick the towel he had used earlier. It was wet form the spilled water from the tub. “I said old chaps have you seen the way we swat flies.”
“Irritating pests…” Mycroft swung the towel in a series of twists he held both ends. He then looked at the two assailants.
“Bloody well if you want to hear the rest of it.”
With the twist of his right hand, he lashed out with the towel at the assailant standing at the right. The wet towel had added weight to its materials making it a hard cudgel with a flexible handle. The end of the towel snapped at the assailant in the face and then it was retracted with the swift turn of the hand. The assailant fell back holding the right eye where the towel hit him. He had let loose the crude dagger he was holding. The other assailant saw his companion fell, and rushed forth himself at Mycroft. That time the Englishman demonstrated his pugilistic moves.
Mycroft dropped the towel and have his right hand punched out leveled at the assailant in the inside of the elbow to crack the joint there. He followed through with his left fist into the side of the neck. He then turned his body to deliver his right fist into the face of the assailant. That killed the assailant when the bone in the nose cracked into the brain.
Mycroft turned to the injured assailant who was still nursing his right eye. He grabbed the later by the neck with both hands and pressed down hard until the other stopped struggling. He then pulled the body up and tossed it across the room.
“Damn! I hate to be interrupted in my bath.” It was then his room door was broken down and both his assigned help was there. “You missed the show. I did not like the actors so I made them quit.”
Hicks crouched down to examine the remaining body. He saw the marks on the inside of the wrist and then looked at his officer in charge.
“They are mercenaries from Mysore.” Hicks showed the mark there. It was a circle with the scimitar in the center. “Their clans are known as the Sword in the Moon. They are usually hired by the rich for such tasks.”
“Well, they are not up to the task.” Mycroft replied before he looked to Bromhead. “What is the update from the local authorities?”
“Bad, old chap. Doctor Watson had been listed as wanted man here for the murder of the Raj.”
3.
Watson sat there cross legged while he held the cup containing the black tea in his right hand. His left hand was on the slung bag that he laid next to him. His eyes were on the man opposite him seated like himself but that figure was a native and bare-chested with the simple cloth that he wore across his waist. The man expression was hidden behind his thick beard and long braided hair that reached his chest. He was not holding any cup for he had no arms for it.
“White healer, you have come a long way.” The bearded man voiced out towards Watson. The later did not reply then for his sight were then on the two dark skinned natives who were bare-chested but they were armed with the bandolier sluing across the chest with the rifle held across the chest. There was another armed native by the doorway which Watson had stepped in then.
“Sandhu, I came back in peace to seek my ….friend.” Watson took a sip of the tea which he was getting once more familiarize with then. “I received news that the Raj died soon after I…”
“A foul act by the new Raj that had done to tarnish your name. He fear you when you returned so he hasten the killing when all he needed was to wait. The old Raj was already dying.” Sandhu told Watson. “The unfortunate part of that was we were part of it. I have my men kill the Raj.”
“So it was true then, Sandhu. You betrayed the old Raj for the new. You killed your one good friend.” Watson lowered the cup and then laid his right hand on his lap. He felt the familiar steel surface on his fingers. He had them modified from the surgical blades with the hilt made from wood wrapped in coarse cloth to have a better grip. It lightened the load and balanced the trajectory when thrown. He held a dozen of it at various part of the body with more in his bag.
“I did for I have no more need of good friends. I am to die and preferred to send them ahead.” The guards behind Sandhu raised their rifles to level at Watson but he was then rolling to the side. It was a move he had learned during his earlier days. His master then told him ‘the body could roll if it’s curled up like the hedgehog. He did his roll towards the doorway when the guards fired. Their aims were off but it hit the third guard in the lower body who had rushed forth. Watson then unfolded his legs while he tossed the blades in his hands at the earlier two guards who fired their rifle. He had retrieved the blades from his side pThe blades flew across the room and then it cut into the guards with the blade in the throat. The third guard who had then fallen to the ground tried to get up but his recovery was too log for Watson had turn to toss the third blade into the left eye and into the brain.
“So you are still good at those blades.” Sandhu smiled behind his beard. “I am pleased that you may be the one to kill me.”
“I won’t kill you ….yet but I needed some answers.” Watson glared at the man he knew as the Guild Master. He was also well informed on the happenings at the city.
“You are the best, White Healer. I cannot kill you today but even with my death, yours will be soon followed.”
“Tell me then before yours. Where is she?”
“She is not here with me or the Raj. She had escaped his imprisonment and is in hiding. We thought when you returned, she may be found but it was not the case. She had evaded even you.”
Watson then stood up to walk out but the elderly man stopped him.
“White Healer, beware the mercenaries form Mysore. They hunts you for the gold that will weighed heavy in their hands.” Sandhu cautioned him. “Even your friend from London cannot not help you.”
At that moment, Mycroft was seated at the terrace with Bromhead and Hicks discussing their options. The seating was on the wicker chair with the round wooden table stacked with tea cups and scones served on the plates.
“I would had thought that we were back in London but the scenery needed some sprucing though.” Mycroft smiled when he looked at the coal fired four wheelers that rolled past the cow driven carts. It was a blend of the new and old with surreal view. He looked up and saw the mini dirigibles floating past the rooftops and there was the rare bi-wings flying contraption which was then in its prototypes then. He then saw the column of local guards in their uniforms marching down the street. Their uniform was khaki shaded with the knee length pants and sandals on their feet. They were carrying batons and the officer with the thick moustache was in the lead carrying a Webley pistol and he was white.
“I guess something never changed. The security here is similar.” Mycroft commented on the guards.
“You are mistaken, Sir. Look what’s coming behind them.” Hicks replied and Mycroft leaned over to look. The people on the street were clearing to the sight and then came then the monstrous looking contraption.
“They called it the Chariot” Hicks told him. The Chariot was actually a huge vehicle with eight wheels housed over with a rectangle iron case with slits for the driver and the sides with over four port windows like that on the ship. That was not the formidable part but the tops side was an open platform with eight more gunners and a light artillery gun. The vehicle was driven by the coal driven engine with the triple chimney at the rear.
“It must be hot in there.” Mycroft commented. Hicks nodded and then told him that the platform was lined with air slots and there was a motorized fan blowing air in.
“The escape hatch is in the platform itself. There are no side doors.” Hick motioned to the gunners. “Those are the shooters taking turns to go in.”
“Tell me more on Watson.” Mycroft changed the subject.
“There is nothing more to add. He was tagged with the murder of the Raj.” Hicks continued on. The other named Bromhead ignored the statement while toying with his Webley.
“When did this happen? Watson had just arrived.” Mycroft defended the doctor. “He couldn’t have waltz into the palace and killed the …”
“There are some things you do not know of the doctor. He has a reputation as a killer here. They called him the White Healer. Death is a healing consideration. Doctor Watson was seen at the palace that night the Raj died.”
“That’s elementary deduction but not conclusive.” Mycroft added in. “I don’t believe in guild until proven. Tell me more on the Raj.”
“That is one person I hardly knew. I am service man with the King and for me one Raj is the same with the dozen I met on parade. However I knew Doctor Watson more.” It was Hicks who answered and he continued on with his view on the doctor.
“I knew him then when I was with the Highlanders. The doctor was a guest of the Colonel. He met the Raj of the district then which coincidence is the one that Doctor Watson claimed to murder. He also met the Princess then,; sweet young gal without a care in life. He stayed with the Raj then for he was healing the Raj of some ailment. It was how he became close to the Princess.”
“For someone who does not know any Raj well, you did with this one.” Mycroft added on. “You are a bloody snot there but please continue with your fairy tale.”
“True I hardly pay attention to the Raj for I have no keen interest in them. I was raised in the public house where our daily meals came after a hard work.” Hicks hissed out his displeasure on the disparity of life offerings. “Anyway I was the head guard there; part of my assignment from the Colonel to manage the local chaps in the drill and soldering. Alas my duties include checking on the Princess nightly.” Hicks smiled. “The good doctor was also healing the Princess then. He must have done a good job for the servants were changing the bed sheets daily.”
Mycroft huff a protest and then he heard the sounding of boots in the hotel. He was to complaint when the moustache officer in the khaki uniform arrived with the Webley leveled at Mycroft.
“Sir! Mr Mycroft, you are to follow me to the Palace.” The moustache officer was not that convincing but the monstrous vehicle with the Lewis machine gun aimed at the trio was more than convincing.
“I hoped they served eggs there. Mine have not arrived for the kitchen. Do a good chap to tell the Mum.” Mycroft passed over the piece of paper he wrote. “And don’t pay the tips.”
Soon after Mycroft was led away, Bromhead headed to the Telegraph Post. His message was simple,
“Aunt Fleming. Mycroft got his shear locks shaved. He is in need of help.”
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