Lord Day and Lady Night

29. Fight for Freedom

DeLacy stood high upon the stairs, directly in front of a massive bronze gong, a mallet in his hands, raised to strike.

"Dear me, Your Lordship..." Surprisingly, it was Titus who spoke first and stepped forward, a grin spreading across his face. "A little bit late to ring the dinner gong, don't you think?"

DeLacy's face twisted in rage. "You!"

"Yes. Me." Striking a pose, Titus adjusted his white-powdered wig and tugged on his livery. "How do you like your newest employee's performance so far?"

"Ha! Just you wait, you traitorous scum! You'll get what's coming to you soon enough!"

"Really?" Lifting an eyebrow, Titus crossed his arms in front of his chest. "Somehow, I don't think so."

Ignoring Titus' words, DeLacy smashed the mallet against the bronze gong. An almighty ring pervaded the manor house, penetrating every single inch of the place. Lord Abrehan stood there, a wicked grin spreading across his face—that is, until the sound died down, followed by a deep, all-encompassing silence.

"What the...!"

Not a footstep. Not a creaking door. Not a single shout in answer. Nothing.

DeLacy's gaze fell on Titus. "What did you do?"

"Didn't you find it curious that your house is very, very silent tonight?" He smiled. "I've been running around in your lackeys' uniform for more than eighteen hours now. Why wouldn't I use such an opportunity?"

"You...you mean..."

"Yes." Pulling a small bag out his pocket, Titus twiddled it between his fingers. "Amazing what a little bit of white powder can do. Too bad I couldn't get my hands on a laxative, though. That would have been fun."

"You...you...!"

"You know..." The corner of his mouth quirking, Patrick stepped up beside Titus. "It's moments like these that make me remember why you're my best friend."

"Thank you very much. I'll send you some laxative as soon as possible."

"You...!" DeLacy's face was flooded with rage, his fingers clenching around the mallet as if he intended to strike them all down.

"You look flushed," Titus observed, concerned. "Should we find a toilet to fit you in?"

"Die!" In a blink, DeLacy's hand moved down to his waist. Metal flashed.

"Down!" Patrick roared, raising his pistol. "Everybody duck!"

Bam!

Bam!

The gunshots echoed through the hall. Karim summarily grabbed the six children closest to him and dumped them behind a marble pillar. Amy did the same with three others—yes, three, she didn't have arms like Goliath, thank you very much—and then grabbed the last few, dragging them down to the ground with her.

"Stay down!"

Only out of the corner of her eye did she catch a glimpse of Patrick rushing up the stairs, sword in hand.

"Go 'elp 'im!" she called out to Titus.

"With what?" he demanded, tugging at his servant's livery. "This thing comes with a wig, not a bloody warhammer!"

Cursing, Amy shoved her remaining charges into cover and pulled a pistol from her maid's outfit. Thank the Lord for voluminous underskirts!

Clang!

Sparks flew as, up above on the stairs, two swords collided. Patrick was engaging DeLacy in a furious duel. Even to Amy's inexperienced eyes, it was clear who was the better swordsman. But no matter his superior skill, Patrick did not hold the higher ground and was slowly but surely being driven back. Keeping her head low, Amy snuck along the balustrade until she reached the edge of the staircase, reached for her pistol and...