A Victorian Adventure, involving a Treasure and a Jinniyah, plus Sex, Violence and Brandy.
(Author's note - Part 1 ended with a cliffhanger – you may want to start at the beginning.)
*
The tunnel was longer than I had guessed, and narrowed as I went, forcing me to push my small kit ahead and then squeeze myself through. The stones seemed to press from above, and then, abruptly, I came up against a wall, and I thought,
Christ, I'm trapped!
When I managed to light the lantern, I found myself face to face with yet another bony grin. After a fresh rush of claustrophobic terror, I realized that I had in fact arrived at the Church's crypt – except that I was inside a tomb.
I was inspired by the sight of my new companion to use extra caution. Belatedly it occurred to me that my would-be assassin must have come for me through this very shaft. Now he was overdue, and the lid of the tomb was closed. There was bound to be someone waiting on the other side.
From the house behind me I could hear the distant sound of wood splintering. Shit. I shuttered my lamp, tightened my grip on the revolver, and eased the slab above me open a crack. As I did so, I again felt a surge of heat from the ring I'd found. The room beyond was all in darkness - perhaps they were waiting to see if I would reveal the entry to the catacombs. For they were out there, well enough.
At least three, to judge by the clatter of steel, the scrabble of boots, and the gurgling yells. It was finished in moments. From my stone shelter I lifted my lamp, and there was Dunyazad, my dream lover. She was standing magnificently naked before me, wearing a cat's-got-the-canary smile. It was strange – in spite of the several huddled corpses in the shadows, I felt such a surge of lust that I nearly jumped her then and there. Perhaps I might have, too, but by the time I had clambered out of that beastly box and started across the slippery stones toward her, there came a flicker of torchlight from behind me.
I turned to see two more black-cloaked men, already half way down the open stair. They had stopped to stare at the bloody shambles around me – and of course at the naked girl in the centre of it all. Both men were carrying muskets. Christ! They had only to level their pieces ... and then I remembered the Colt I still gripped in my right fist. I lifted the weapon - too late. The leader came to his senses and fired, at the same moment as did I. Flame and smoke leapt from our muzzles - in that small space the noise was beyond deafening, stunning me as though from a blow. It took me a moment to understand that I was unhurt. He'd missed, but so had I. He was cursing now as he came on, reversing his musket as a club. Beyond him, the other was about to fire in his turn, but found himself slipping on the gore on the stairs, and again the roar of explosions as first he loosed his shot – wide, thank God - and I responded, emptying my revolver into them both.
There followed a muffled silence, while my ears continued to ring. The place was hazy with acrid powder smoke, but I could see that they were both down. I was trembling now – this was the first time I had ever been forced to fight for my life. I turned to check on Dunyazad and was rewarded with an arched eyebrow. Evidently she was impressed.
Stunned as I was, I knew there was no time to waste. The whole neighbourhood must have heard the shocking din, and I'd left my spare cartridges behind in the brothel. We couldn't go up – it had to be into the catacomb behind the secret door.
Luckily I'd committed the lock releases to memory. Sited on opposite sides of a smug looking effigy, they were to be triggered simultaneously. Now I saw, to my alarm, that they were too far apart to reach. I showed Dee the bit of carved marble that served as one of the catches. Success! A two-foot square of vertical marble paneling slid aside, and a puff of knight-dust drifted out of the gap.
Dee shrugged and hopped in, shimmying her bare bum at me as she did so. It really was irresistible - I reached up to feel the cunnie she presented to me. At my touch, she pressed back to swallow my fingers and give them a friendly squeeze, before popping free and jumping forward out of sight. After a last glance back at the carnage in the crypt, I was up and through the gap myself, making sure the hidden door was closed most securely behind me.
Safe enough for the moment, I hugged her to me. She glanced up with an odd smile, and then snuggled up comfortably. We were now in a rough-hewn stone passage, which hopefully led to treasure. After the briefest of explanations, we were off. The tunnels twisted and turned without reason, and constantly dropped deeper into the earth. The walls were riddled with niches, which were filled with jumbled bones and sightless skulls.
I led the way, lamp held high. Although the Templars had set traps, I had the benefit of the map in my pocket. Even at that, at one point Dee caught my belt just before I pitched headlong into a spike-floored pit. We edged past it on a ledge perhaps four inches wide, with our backs to the wall and her fine poonts proudly standing forth. I noticed she was smiling in a way that suggested that she was at no great risk.
At last, we stood before an iron door. I handed Dee the lamp and threw myself against it, expecting stiff hinges, and catapulted myself ten feet beyond. This was just as well, given that a stone the size of an anvil dropped where I would have stood. As I lay winded on the flagstone floor, Dee stepped without comment over the stone and then over me, and held the lantern aloft. In the dim light I could make out a large cavern. And gold! All about us, the buttery gleam of gold. Piles of the stuff - glittering goblets and plate, and coins of every sort. It was unbelievable, like an ancient barrow, complete with stone tombs all stacked about with blackened armour and weapons. Or, if you will, like the cave of Aladdin.
I sat up and stared in wonder, watching as my beauty skipped about, lifting and admiring various pieces. Occasionally she would lift it up for me to see, saying, "Ah – this belonged to Lord Surena," or some such. Several times, the jewel in question was clearly already ancient when it had come into the hands of the Templars so long ago. And then, she held out a ring not unlike the one I now wore, saying, "and look - the Seal of Sulayman."
I blinked. No, it was impossible. She would be waving about the Holy Grail next. I'd been aware that either I was quite mad, or I had gained a most extraordinary companion. Up until now, lacking independent evidence, I had preferred to believe the latter - but this was too much.
Meanwhile Dee held up a set of gold inlaid grieves. "I saw Alexander buried in these," she said, conversationally. "Some villain has robbed his tomb." She glanced up mischievously. "Of course, it would have been a shame to waste them."
"Alexander the Great?" I asked, now quite convinced I was Bedlam bound.
"Alexander the Macedonian, yes. He was not your equal as a lover, my lord. Always his mind was on his next campaign – and on his Companions." This information was accompanied with the hint of a smirk.
