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‘P-please…’ Crawling backwards, the traitorous maid tried to get away from Karim—and came up against something hard and horsy. Looking up, she gazed straight into the grinning maw of a stallion. ‘Aaaaaah!’

‘No,’ I told my bodyguard. ‘It’s a cowardly expression.’

The maid turned from left to right, trying to find a way out. But wherever she turned there were the boots of men, the hooves of horses and snow, endless, cold, harsh snow. Finally, she found a way and started scrambling forward frantically—until her fingers came up against two polished black shoes. Slowly, her eyes rose higher and higher until they met mine.

She gulped.

‘P-please…’

Grabbing my walking stick, I whacked her outstretched arm away and pinned her to the ground.

‘No! You don’t get to ask! You only get to answer. Now tell me…’ I pressed a little harder with the stick. Just hard enough to bring my—and its—sharp point across. ‘Where is she?’

‘I…I…err…’

She lay there, silently opening and closing her mouth, unable to get a word out.

Unacceptable.

‘Karim?’

The Mohammedan stepped forward, back straight, arms crossed. ‘Yes, Sahib?’

‘She’s all yours.’

*~*~**~*~*

The hoofbeats of the horses thundered in my ears. They pounded wildly, out of control—and yet, it was nothing compared to the absolutely steady and regular beat in my head that counted down the distance.

Three point five miles…

Three point four…

Three point three…

Would I be in time? Would she still be there?

She has to be! And if she isn’t…

I had ways of forcing the world to be as I wanted it to be. And if some blood was spilled in the process, that would be more than acceptable.

Three point two miles…

Three point one…

Out of the blank nothing of the landscape appeared a tiny black dot. Slowly, it started to grow, then faster and faster, until—

‘There it is, Sir!’ Bayard jabbed his hand forward. With the other one, he was holding a telescope to his eye. ‘The hut she told us about.’

Very quickly, and very succinctly. Karim could be extremely persuasive.

‘Faster!’

‘But Mr Ambrose, Sir, the horses—’

‘—have to learn about work ethic. I said faster!’

The hut raced closer, faster and faster. When I was finally close enough to make out details, I clenched my teeth.

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