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‘That was spiffing!’ I grinned at the man who had thrown the explosive. ‘Can I have one
of those?’
‘Only if you promise me not to blow yourself up.’
‘Done!’ I lifted my rifle. ‘And can someone show me how to reload this blasted thing?’
We started down the gorge again, more careful this time about watching our backs. No ridges or openings appeared behind or above us. But after only a few minutes, the gorge started to widen, and suddenly we stepped out into a small valley with steep walls on all sides. The moment we were in the open, the noise of the fight assailed us.
‘Bloody hell!’ I sucked in a sharp breath. ‘I guess Mr Ambrose was right. There are more bandits!’
A lot more. They were swarming out of cave openings all along the opposite end of the valley. Dozens of them! Hundreds! Opposite them stood our band of fighters, which no longer seemed so insurmountably strong as when they had come storming down from the hills. From what I could see, we were evenly matched in numbers.
Without hesitation, I ducked behind a rock, laid the rifle atop, aimed, and fired. The recoil, which I had hardly noticed the first time, with a thick mass of men right behind me, now almost knocked me off my feet. But I didn’t give in! I reloaded and fired again. Not that I knew whether I actually hit someone - I was about as good a shot as Mr Ambrose was a conversationalist - but I couldn’t just sit here and do nothing!
‘Fire!’
That single word out of Mr Ambrose’s mouth was all the warning I got before the roar I had heard only once before rose up again, straight out of hell. It was just as frightening as last time - only now Mr Ambrose wasn’t here to hold me. Covering my ears, I peered past my rock, to where the three sinister guns had been set up, facing towards the entrances of the caves. The bandits in front of them were suddenly falling like flies. Those who somehow, miraculously, hadn’t been hit yet, scrambled to get back in, bashing their own comrades over the head if necessary.
Glancing from left to right, I saw several of our own men on the ground, their hands stuffed into their ears. Apparently, they hadn’t been fully prepared for Mr Ambrose’s little surprise, either.
Knowledge is power is time is money. Meaning that if I shared knowledge, that would be tantamount to sharing power or money.
I snorted, remembering his words.
‘One of these days,’ I growled, fixing my eyes on Mr Ambrose’s straight, black-clad back, ‘your boarded up mouth is going to cost you dearly!’
But then - maybe spreading the word about weapons like these wouldn’t be a good idea either.
Forcing my hands away from my ears, I hurriedly stuffed the edges of my burnous into my earholes to muffle the torturous noise. Once it was bearable, I picked up my rifle, which had fallen to the ground, and resumed firing. Not that my help appeared to be needed. There was hardly a bandit alive outside the cave anymore. When the last of them finally limped into the darkness, the roar of the guns ceased, and I dared to lower my rifle.
‘Karim!’ Mr Ambrose made a gesture to his bodyguard. ‘Most of them went into these three big caves! That one, that one, and that one!’ He pointed them each out in turn. ‘You take fifty men and one of the prototypes and go down the left one. Youssef will take the right, and I the middle! Ten men stay outside to block up all the smaller exits with explosives! If the stone turns out to be too solid, stand guard outside the exit and shoot anyone who comes out that is not me or one of my commanders!’
‘Yes, Sahib!’
‘Yes, Effendi!’
In moments, the well-trained fighters split up into three main groups. But those moments were enough for me to slide out from behind my rock and join the middle one.
‘Ready and reporting for duty, Sir!’ I said, giving a mock salute.
Mr Ambrose didn’t return it.
‘What are you doing here?’ His eyes flashed with cold lightning. ‘I told you to stay safe!’
‘And I told you I’d be coming with you!’
‘A battleground is no proper place for a lady!’
My eyes narrowed. ‘It’s not, is it?’
‘No!’
‘Well, in that case I’m definitely coming with you. I love improper places.’
Mr Ambrose’s left little finger twitched, twice, betraying a roiling thunderstorm of emotion inside his stony form.
‘Fine! Stay behind me and do as I say!’
