Team Seven of Heroes III Chapter 11 & 12

Book 2

The Elixir of Life

11.

“Emperor Qin Shi Huang sent his alchemist Xu Fu with five hundred young men and the equivalent in ladies to find he elixir but they never returned home. Some legends said that they found Japan. Later Shi Huang Di sent over three thousand boys and girls. While this was on going, the alchemy masters were professing certain metals could the cure to longevity including gold. Little was they know, it actually caused toxic poisoning. In the Amrita from the ancient Hindu scriptures, also mentioned of the drink that will promote the longevity of life.” Father Lewis then in the living hall of the place he had called home for over sixty years lowered the wooden spoon he held in his right hand.

“Would you consider that food that we consumed day may be the true elixir of life?” Father Lewis looked to his apprentice who was then taking the same servings that was provided from the kitchen. “After all, years ago, I sat in your place eating about the same food.”

“Father Lewis, please finish your food and then you can retire to your rest.” The younger priest smiled before he scooped up the food on the plate. He grinned to himself for the food there was not the best but it was palatable. He looked at the man he had served for some years then with affection. The older priest had spent almost half his life there as the custodian of the ancient scrolls. He had once confessed that he never reads them for fear that it may challenge his faith in his mind. However, he did not discourage Brother Hathaway to read them if he wants.

“You never told me that you served the Emperor?” Father Lewis asked of Hathaway. “I do not really know that Emperor but as my apprentice he was one of the most read ones. He spent a lot of time at the archives delving into the scrolls. He was missed and then you came. You do read too but more to it, you would speak to me. I am an old man who sometimes craved some conversations. And your tales were a relief.”

“What do you think of Sherlock Holmes?” The younger priest asked then. “You have not spoken since he…”

“Yes, nice man. I showed him the archives.” Father Lewis replied. “It was when you were called away for the prayers recitals. I even gave him some scrolls. I meant borrowed him them.”

Hathaway almost slipped his hand holding the spoon and then he looked at the older priest.

“What did you give him?”

“The scroll on the secret of the Golden Flower from the Qing Dynasty but mine was older than that.” Father Lewis smiled. “I guess you can kill me now. The food I have tasted is bland of flavour.”

Hathaway stood up and glared at the elderly priest. He lowered his head before he sighed at the action taken by the elderly priest. The old man had crossed the line which Hathaway had to then take remedial actions.

Two hours later, Hathaway sneaked out of the rear doorway to catch the late train to London, and then to Dover. He has a long journey to take. Father Lewis had ended his journey although it will be last morning before anyone was to know. The pillow over the face was an easy way out and painless for an old friend.

It was no easy departure for the three ladies with the uncomfortable man that was holding their bags. Mycroft heaved on him the four bags with each arm carrying two but his eyes were on them. The ladies were all covered in the hood and cloak over their travel clothes and with the help of the London’s best, they were given a hassle-free walk past the check points. Their destination then was the dirigible station where they will board the flight towards Berlin and there onto to Istanbul before they take the train to Tbilisi and from there to board the other dirigible to fly to Kabul before they joined the Silk Road at Xinjiang on the road.

“Princess, I will suggest a new route.” The Black Cat told her. “We will take South by sea to the darker continent and then round it to India before cut overland in the delta regions to emerge from south of Xinjiang.”

“Why the change now, my trusted one?” Princess Fa Lo Suee asked.

“I sensed danger. In the dirigible, we can’t escape. On the sea vessels we hold a better chance.” The lady replied. “Your father had many enemies and above all, he is now presumed dead, his friends may be his enemies too. Do you recall Wu Sung?”

The ladies did some fast thinking and the roped in Mycroft to their plans.

“You must be mad.” Mycroft replied then. “But I will do it. I hate flying.”

With that, two hours later the four of them were on the sea vessel sailing towards Gibraltar They were without the hood and cloak but had on the constable overcoat. The four constables donned the hood and cloak to step into the dirigible with the porters carrying the bags.

“Keegan, how do you reckon I looked like with the hood and cape?” The stout lad from the mines turned to the constabulary works adjusted his cape. “Do I look like the riding lone ranger in the newsprint?”

“No, you looked like the monster Mr Hyde.” The other laughed and the other colleague joined in when the door to the reserved unit.

“Francis, check who is it?” The one named Francis attended to the door but he was thrown back by the impact on the door. The disguised constable fell on his back and before he could react, the spear head on the shortened staff pierced his heart. Keegan reached for the truncheon and recalled that he left it when he donned the cape. He then jumped up and charged at the spear wielding assailant but he was held back by the bloodied spear then aimed at him. He did the only move he had learned at the mines before. His right arm raised and blocked the spear on the upper staff. He had been involved in such fights with the miners picks and it was one move to counter back. With the move, Keegan left hand went out and grabbed the lower end of the shaft to pull the shaft forward and with his right hand clasped on the staff below the spear head he twisted the spear to swing in from the right. The assailant stepped back avoiding the weapon that was his but he did not foresee the thrust of the spear into his left thigh. Keegan pulled the spear back but he did not see the second assailant until it was too late. The second assailant at the rear of the first one thrust the shortened spear at Keegan’s face. The later could not avoid the thrust and lost his left eye there to the spear. Keegan fell back while the second assailant rushed in and threw the spear at the remaining constable. Keegan crouched at the corner then watching the assailants checked the unit. They could not find the ladies and then retreated.

The words went out then.

“The ladies are on the run.”

So was Van Helsing leaving the mountains if he was to stay on living with his blood intact his body. He was shown the hidden tunnels, and out into the ghetto of the city. His guide then left him there to go on his own. He took to then to the shadows of the place and ran based on the direction. It was a mile away from the city train station. He remembered the Master’s last instructions.

“The Dark Prince feared your gifted weapon. It’s also one of the three items to open the secret of the Elixir of Life. Take care of it.” The Master told him. “They may stop you.”

Van Helsing journey to the train station was without any incident although he felt then that he was watched. He boarded the train towards the South. Once he was on the train, he felt safer. He did not notice the Train Master then switched the Train Destination Plates.

It was headed East and not South. Van Helsing won’t know for he was served food laced with drugs to induce sleep.

Deep sleep.

12.

Watson thought slipped back to his case with Sherlock on the love of a lady. It was not that he was outwitted by the lady but she left him with the unique remembrance of the photo he still kept of Irene Adler. Watson did ask him on the lady and the reply was expected of the cold man with the mind that was rarely rivalled then. He had not mentioned much of the lady although he did reference to one in the “Five Orange Pips” case. “Defeated” was his word then but it was never pursued on by Watson. He believes that everyone deserved to keep their skeleton in the closet.

“Are you enjoying the view or merely ignoring me?” Watson heard the man who approached him on the bow of the fishing vessel. He turned to the sleuth covered in the whale skin coat like himself. The vessel Captain was generous to spare them one set each.

“The weather looks fine.” Sherlock commented then on the weather when he saw Watson still ignoring him. The later looked out at the calm sea and wondered when have Sherlock ever commented on the weather unless he was looking for clues.

“Do you know that most Londoners commented on the weather daily? It’s a wonder we even cared with the number of dirigibles plodding past overhead covering the skies most times. I will be more concerned if one drops on my head than the raindrops. Statistically speaking, that possibility is a hundred times less than a ground vehicle crashing into each other on the streets. I wondered…”

“Holmes, please be silent. I am trying to …” The doctor had glare at Sherlock. “I am to give a word of grace to my son. You do recall he died in the hole.”

Watson’s son falling down the hole during their adventure in India. He had only seen him just days ago before he died.

“I am sorry, Watson. Emotional ties are not….my cuppa of tea. I have no one except Mycroft …. and Sigrina but above it all I am…”

“Cold and calculative.” Watson cut in. “When will the Sherlock Holmes become more …. human like? Are you sure you are sired by humans or maybe created by….”

Sherlock looked at Watson and then he stepped back to the cabin. Watson felt bad then but he soon told himself that the outburst was his way of expressing his grief at the pains caused by Holmes and the others in India. It was still brewing inside his heart and he needed that outburst. As a doctor, he had read Sigmund Freud’s theory on grief and how it transpired in the works. He knew he was grieving but besides Nina, there was no one near him that understood the emotions of losing the son of his. He had seen many deaths in the Frontier War but they were not emotionally attached to him. Nor were those victims when he studied a case with Sherlock. He knew Sherlock was above him in that emotion states. The man is a high functioning sociopath that what was Watson diagnosed then but he was using it to help people. Moriarty was one peer in the same class as Sherlock but that man has used his mind to create mayhem.

“Son”, Watson heard the voice and turned to it. It was the ship’s Captain. “Aye, you. I will like you to go into the cabin now. We got a storm coming up.”

The Captain was motioning to the horizon where the dark clouds could be seen. Watson also saw the blip that looked like any other vessel at sea. They have passed ships on their voyage.

“Aye, Son. That vessel had been tailing for over a day now. Either it’s going our way or we will be having some boarders soon. I reckon it be will that or the storm on the horizon that will be our trouble.” The Captain then motioned to his pistol tucked into his waist belt. “My Mathilda will protect me from both.”

“You can’t shoot …. I meant it won’t cause much impact on anyone trying to board you.” Watson smiled. “With no intention to be disrespectful to you…. or Mathilda.”

“This one?” The Captain drew out the pistol. “No, it won’t work. I am referring to that.”

That was above Watson and it was one of those surprises that you can never expect from a sea dog. It was an ancient Napoleon 12 pounder with its wheels secured to the platform there. The gun fired a twelve-pounder cannon ball to a distance of three hundred yards.

“She ain’t much to look at considering the new guns they have now, but Mathilda was with me since young. She was my Dad’ who fired her in the last war between states. Now she is mine. I got iron balls and also the grape shots. I once shot another vessel of its sail when it tried to ram me.”

“God save the King when you have …. Captains like you around.” Watson swore to himself.

“We ain’t have any King. We got ourselves a President.” The Captain then excused himself and Watson took the cabin to check his inventory of bullets. He saw the sleuth idling on the upper bunk that was allocated to him. He was not smoking but had on the scrolls then.

“Ah, Watson. I have a news of interest here.” Sherlock beamed out as if he was back in 221B.

“I am not keen on that now.” Watson went to retrieve his bags to search for the bullets. “We have a vessel on the horizon following us.”

“Of that I know two hours ago but of yourself, I am baffled Watson. Please speak to me.” Sherlock sat up and the climbed down to take the seat by the table. “I won’t smoke while you speak.”

“It’s nothing, Holmes. I am just….”

“In grief, I know but don’t you think you are prolonging it too long. The lad is dead and his mother …”

“Do not ever mention …Nina’s name. Or my son. They are mine.” Watson snapped at Sherlock. The later then raised his hands up in defeat before he took out the paper that was in his shirt pocket.

“It’s a letter from Nina. You might want to read it.” Sherlock handed it over. “It was addressed to me before I left India to come back.”

Watson was shocked that his friend had contacted his ex-lover. He took the letter and read.

“Dear Holmes, I am in need of your help to assist James in his grief on the loss of his son and my love. For the later, I still do but it won’t be when we were together. I had found my new love with Dakar and with him now in his stateless mind, I am more obligated to take care of him. For whatever Dakar done as Nemo, he was still a good father and friend to us. My son looked up to Dakar more than James. I know it may sound selfish but the parting years have mellowed our love. I know he may be in pain from some time as I would be but he has to go on living himself. He cannot be held to grief over us, when we do not matter anymore. Take him on as your friend and take care of him. James is a good man and above all, he wants to serve. I know of your works even in India, make him a part of it and continue living on his own journey. Nina.”

Watson looked to Sherlock and then tossed the letter over.

“I was ready to forgive you and now you torment with this letter. You are a bastard, Holmes.” Watson slammed the bag cover shut “Once we are at Port, we are going our ways.”

Sherlock sat there expressionless and then he took to leave the cabin leaving the doctor fretting over his emotions. The sleuth stepped out to the platform and then looked at the coming storm. He was thinking of the next steps when he does meet the Emperor. It had better be good for he had destroyed the one friend that he had with a fake letter. The quest to find the Emperor was dangerous and it had to be done alone. He read that it in the scrolls and noted the signs there.  It was too dangerous for Watson not when he was not in the correct state of mind.

Unknown to Sherlock, the other vessel was devoid of baggage except its crew and the group of Chinese warriors under the command of a white man.

“I want to capture that ship.” Hathaway called out dressed in the loose blue tunic and pants with his waist belt holding the Webley. He stared at the Captain and cursed.

“Are your men all getting sloppy from the days at Dover? I want the sails upright and moving now.” Hathaway called out once more. He was in pursuit of Holmes and the demand for the scrolls to be returned. It was the Emperor’s mistake not to destroy it but the feeble man had shared emotions to value it as priceless. With the younger man, the scrolls were not worth anything but killing Holmes will propel him up the ranks. He looked to dozen warriors that he had brought with him. They are seasoned warriors with the needed skills learned on boarding sea vessels.

“Sir, the storm is before us. We need to find some shelter.”

“The only shelter is to be ahead of the storm.” Hathaway told the Captain. “Get more speed up. The Emperor wills it.”