Slowly but steadily, the coach rolled up the tallest hill, a forest shielding it from view on both sides of the road. Only when they reached the crest of the hill and the forest split apart in front of them did Amy see what lay beyond.

Down below stretched a sunbathed valley with a charming little town in the centre. The rattle of wagon wheels and ringing of bells rose from the town and echoed back from the slopes of the hills. Somewhere, a church choir was singing about how wonderful the world was. Amy, however, did not pay attention to any of that. Her eyes were fixed on the dark forest beyond, and the towers of the manor house rising from its depths.

"Do ye think dat's it?"

Patrick raised an eyebrow. "Do you think DeLacy would allow another to erect a manor house on his lands?"

"Ye know...is it just me, or do English lords be'ave like London street gang leaders?"

His eyebrow rose another fraction of an inch. "Who do you think were the leaders in the streets of London in 1066?"

Amy blinked. "Ye know...I never really thought about it dat way." Her eyes zeroed in on the distant manor. "But now dat I do...it makes a shit load of sense. Karim?"

"Yes?"

"Let's move."

"I concur."

Once again, the whip cracked and the carriage sped down the hill and through the town, the beauty of which was completely ignored. Leaving the town behind them, they delved into the forest and soon reached a much smaller village, just as beautiful and picturesque as the surrounding landscape. And yet, and yet...

The coach came to a halt next to a blacksmith's shop.

"Pardon me." Leaning out of the window, Patrick cleared his throat, attracting the attention of the smith who was rather forcefully hammering down on a horse shoe. "Is this the way to Lacy Hall?"

The man's head jerked up. He smiled, brightly...or at least tried to. But Amy had been a lady of the night for most of her life. She could tell a fake smile from a real one any day.

"A-aye." He raised the hand with his hammer, pointing. "Just go down da road and ye'll reach da Hall."

"Thank you very much, I—"

Clang!

The hammer came down onto the horse shoe again. Hard. Far too hard. Amy wasn't exactly an expert, but she had never seen a horse with rectangular, dented hoofs

"Don't. Mention. It!" The blacksmith growled.

"Is it just me," Amy whispered darkly, "or is something off about 'im?

"You don't say?" Patrick muttered, low enough for only her to hear, then nodded at the man. "Thank you. We've been looking for the way for quite a while."

The blacksmith gave us a strange look. "Don't thank me too early."

Then, as if he'd said too much, the smile quickly reappeared on his face. "Well...best of luck, My Lord! I've still got work ta do."

Then, leaving the mangled, half-finished horse shoe lying where it was, he turned and vanished into the house.

Everyone exchanged glances.

"Let's move on," Patrick said. "Fast."

Amy couldn't agree more.

All three of them nodded silently. Even Titus didn't say a single word in disagreement. They raced on down the road, reaching for their suitcases and beginning to unpack certain items. Metal clicked as they checked and loaded pistols, unfolded telescopes and, in Amy's case, pocketed lock picks. Then, they came around the last bend in the road, and Karim halted the coach. Close enough so they could peek at the manor house below through the trees, but still behind enough cover so no one down there could see them.

The three of them exited the carriage, hiding between the trees. Karim slid down from the box and took up a position behind a conveniently huge boulder that, amazingly, was larger than he was.

"What do you think?" Amy asked.

Karim raised a telescope to his eye and let it sweep across the manor house. Amy did the same, watching the gardeners and other servants scurrying around the grounds.

"This is it," Karim growled. "This is the place we are seeking. There are people being held prisoner here."

Amy frowned. "How can you be so certain?"

"Look at these." He pointed at the gardeners, clipping hedges, trimming the impeccable lawn, slowly moving around the house. "Do you see how they're moving? Every two minutes, a gardener moves on from one segment of the hedge to the next. At their belts, beside their sheers, they also happen to have several knives, and that bulge looks suspiciously like a holster."

Amy sucked in a breath, as she realized what his meaning. "Dey...!"

"They're not gardeners," he concluded darkly. "They're guards."

Patrick knelt beside him, his eyes narrowed. "Can you get through them?"

Karim snorted. "Does a camel shit in the desert?"

Patrick frowned. "I am afraid I'm not certain on that matter. I did not major in biology at Cambridge."

There was a moment of silence, then...

"Yes," Karim said. "I can."

"Very well, gents!" Amy clapped her hands. "Let's go, den, and—"

Suddenly, she fell silent.

"What is it?" Patrick turned towards her. "What's the matter?"

"Psht! Listen!"

He did. And, after a moment, they all heard the rattle of wagon wheels approaching. Not from the manor, but from the other direction, down the hill.

"Into da forest, now!" Amy hissed.

Instantly, they all moved deeper into the trees, to where they could see the road they had travelled on so far, and the valley beyond. There was a coach rattling up the road towards them. It looked like any other expensive carriage owned by a fancy nobleman, the likes of which Amy had sometimes seen driving down the streets back in London. Yet something was wrong. Something she couldn't quite put the finger on...

"We've got to move, now!" Patrick hissed. "We've got to stop them!"

"Stop them?" Amy's head jerked around. "What do you mean, stop them? There are over ten armed escorts riding with them!"

"Have you ever," Patrick growled, his eyes fixed on the carriage with deadly determination, "seen a nobleman's carriage with bolts secured on the outside of the door?"

An icy chill went down Amy's spine.

"You..." Titus swallowed. "You don't mean to suggest..."

"I'm not suggesting," Patrick growled. "I'm stating facts! There's someone trapped inside that coach! We've got to move, now, before they're visible from the manor!"

"But we can't shoot!" Titus hissed. "The people at the manor will hear us! Besides...we don't even have proof they're up to no good! It's just a lock on the door! They could be perfectly innocent, and—"

Amy gave him a look, and he had the good grace to flush.

"All right, it's not very likely! But it could be!"

"Then dat," Amy said, her heart feeling cold and raging hot with anger at the same time, "is a risk we're gonna 'ave ta take!"

Then she lifted her pistol and fired.

"Ahg!"

One of the riders escorting the carriage suddenly clutched his shoulder, toppling off his horse. Leaping out from behind the trees, Amy reloaded at a run and threw herself down behind another, closer tree before aiming a second time.

Bam!

"Ahrr! Over there! It's coming from over there!"

"Get them!"

Uttering a curse that made Amy's Cockney heart swell with pride, Patrick dashed after her, followed by a certain bearded boulder that moved more slowly, but with much, much more momentum.

"Well..." Titus cleared his throat from beyond the tree he still was hiding behind. "I'll just stay here, shall I?"

"Move, Titus!" Patrick growled.

"Backwards?"

"Get the hell out here, now!"

Muttering something about needing new friends, Titus grabbed his duelling pistols and lunged out of the forest, firing. Throwing himself down behind a rock halfway up the road, he reloaded and, coming up, shot once more, hitting a horse in the flank.

"Bloody 'ell! My 'ors-aaarrr!"

"There's another one!"

"Get 'im!" Roared one of the riders. "Bloody get 'im!"

Just then, a voice came from behind him. A voice betraying a smile. "It ain't 'im ye ought ta worry about."

Bam!

The man dropped from his horse. Reaching out, Amy grabbed it by the reins, turned it, and slapped it on the buttocks, sending it dashing straight towards another rider.

"Aah!"

The rider screamed and was thrown off his bucking horse. Moments later, she heard a crack, and the screams stopped.

"Ye witch!" the man on the coach box shouted, letting go of the reins and grabbing the rifle next to him. "I'll kill ye! I'll—"

That was the moment Karim grabbed his leg and pulled.

"Gnnaaaah!"

Thud!

Karim was about to rush to the next armed man when Amy grabbed him. "Don't! Get up on da box!"

The bodyguard might be built like a boulder, but his brain certainly wasn't made out of rock. Instantly understanding what she was aiming for, he leapt up onto the box and tugged on the reins, hard.

"Gee-up!"

With a whinny, the horses started to move again and the coach began to turn, away from the manor and down the road.

"Watch out!" the last rider roared. "They're getting away!"

However, there was little any of his surviving compatriots could do about that. One had gotten his horse shot out from under him and was fighting a desperate sword duel with Lord Patrick Day. Another was crouching behind a carriage wheel, exchanging shots with Titus, who seemed very displeased his shots weren't coming in small glasses.

"We've got to finish this!" he hissed and threw himself down as a bullet hissed through the air above his head. "There'll be reinforcements coming from the manor any minute now!"

"All right!" Firing a bullet towards the man Karim had thrown to the ground, Amy kicked him out of the way and rushed towards the rider. The man seemed to realize that he had only one chance left: run! But before he could whirl his horse around, Amy's knife buried itself in his calf.

"Aaargh! You bi—"

"Didn't yer mother ever tell ye," Amy smirked, "ta watch yer bloody friggin' mouth?"

Twisting the knife, she grabbed the man and pulled him over her back and to the ground, slamming him down, hard. An instant later, he found the blade at his throat.

"N-no! Please, mercy!"

Amy's eyes flashed. "Did ye know what's gonna 'appen ta the one in da coach?"

The man hesitated. That was pretty much all the answer Amy needed.

"Did ye know?"

"Y-yes, but—"

Amy's knife buried itself in his throat. Then, rising to her feet, she reloaded her pistol and strode across the road. Time to end this.

"Freeze!"

The man behind the wagon wheel was just about to fire again when he felt the cold steel of a gun barrel pressed against his temple. He stiffened.

"D-don't shoot! I'll surrender."

"Ah." Amy nodded. "Good."

Then she shot him.

What? A slaving, child-abusing bastard suddenly decided he wanted to change his ways because he had a gun against his head, and she should have to go along with it?

Don't frigging joke! She wasn't some stupid sissy! She was an East-Ender! In the East End, there was just one rule: kill or be killed.

By now, there was just one man left standing. Although "standing" might not be the right word. He was stumbling backwards, desperately trying to defend himself against Patrick's merciless sword strikes. Cuts and scrapes covered his body, and a kind of hopeless rage burned in his eyes.

"Surrender!" Patrick ordered, his voice level, his azure eyes cold. "Or die."

"I...I'll surrender! I'll surrender!" Staggering back, he raised both his hands, one still holding the sword.

"Good." Patrick nodded, slowly lowering his weapon. "Then—"

The other man smirked. "Die!"

His swords came down in a flash, heading straight towards Patrick's neck. React? Defend? He couldn't even blink before it was already halfway there and—

Bam!

The man froze in mid-movement. Then, blood trickling from the hole in the side of his head, he toppled over. Grabbing the frozen Lord Patrick Day by the lapels, Amy dragged him down towards her until their faces were only inches apart, and she was staring straight into his eyes.

"Ye...ye gentleman!"

"Why do I feel like you have just insulted me?"

Wordlessly tightening her grip, Amy pulled him the rest of the way and gave him a fierce hug. "Don't ye ever do somethin' like dat again, understood?"

Lord Patrick Day blinked, dazed, and nodded.

"Let's go!" she shouted, grabbing him by the hand and dashing towards the coach Karim was bringing around. "Go, go, go!"

"If this is...what you call...going," Titus panted, trying his best to keep up with her and desperately failing, "what do you...consider running?"

"Why bother finding out? We've got a coach!" Leaping up, Amy grabbed a handle on the side of the carriage and pulled herself up. Karim extended a hand while skilfully steering the coach into a tight curve with the other. Pulling herself all the way up, she held out her free hand to Patrick and dragged him up after her.

"Hey! What...about...me...?" Titus panted.

Amy smirked down at him. "Find a lady of yer own?" She suggested.

"I'd love to! But...right now...it's not very...feasible!"

Growling, Karim leaned down and pulled him up with one hard tug.

"Ah." Amy nodded, her grin widening. "Ye've found one. I applaud yer taste."

That earned her two deathly glares.

"Don't look at me! Ye're driving! Eyes on da road, and give dose nags a good kick in da arse!"

Karim gritted his teeth, but he followed her advice. Oh, how he did. The carriage rushed down the road, the horses galloping at full speed. Not a moment too soon, either. From behind them beyond the bend, in the direction of the manor, the sound of hoofbeats manifested and started to approach rapidly. Far too rapidly for Amy's personal taste.

"Faster!" she growled.

"I'm trying!" Karim growled. "But in case you hadn't noticed, I am not the one pulling the coach!"

"What a pity!"

"I swear, woman, if we get out of this alive, I—"

Patrick glanced behind them. "I would advocate a policy of less talking, more driving."

Growling, Karim cracked the whip, and Amy grabbed onto the side of the carriage, desperately trying to stay atop the box that had only ever been meant for two people. The coach was hurtling down the road at a suicidal speed, but Amy didn't dare to object. The pounding of hoofs behind them was getting louder and louder, and the stains of blood were still fresh on the road behind them.

Blood.

Amy couldn't help but shiver. She was used to a world where the law of the jungle ruled, but...

They had killed people. People! And they weren't even entirely sure they had done anything wrong! What if some didn't know what was in the carriage? Or worse, what if they had made a mistake and there wasn't anything in there?

Don't think dat way! Dey're kidnappers and murderers! Dey deserved it!

Only...were they? Did they?

The inside of the coach was still eerily silent. None of them had even glimpsed inside. How could she be so sure that someone was really being held captive inside?

There is! There is!

Why?

Because there had to be. If not, she would have...

She cut that thought off before it could go anywhere.

They had to find some secluded place to check the coach. Right now! And not just because she needed to know the truth, either. With every passing second, their bloody pursuers were getting closer and closer!

Suddenly, out of the corner of her eye, she saw something.

"There!" she hissed, pointing to the side. "Go that way!"

Karim's eyes swept across the side of the road, until they landed where Amy was pointing. His eyes widened.

There, to the left of them, almost completely hidden behind an overhanging tree, was a picturesque little path perfectly suited to a romantic stroll in the countryside. Not so suited for a bloody big fat coach with four people clinging onto the box!

"Are you mad, woman?" he hissed. "Have you completely lost your mind?"

"I still 'ave about 'alf of it, I think. Why?"

"That's little more than a muddy trail! We can't drive a coach down that!"

"Which is exactly what our pursuers will think. Now do it!"

Muttering something incomprehensible in Punjabi, the big Mohammedan tugged hard at the reins, and the carriage veered off to the left onto the narrow path, swaying madly and brushing branches right and left.

"You two are mad!" Titus muttered. "Absolutely mad!"

Patrick, on the other hand, didn't say anything. Glancing to the side, however, Amy didn't find it difficult to deduce the reason. The British peer was staring down at his hands, one of which still clutched the bloody sword.

"It 'ad ta be done," she said, softly.

He swallowed. "Really?"

"Aye." She nodded, hard.

"Let us hope so. Let us hope so."

They rushed down the narrow path, plunging into the forest until the shadows beneath the trees had completely swallowed them. Amy let them roll a few yards farther, then nodded to Karim.

With a muttered command, he pulled at the reins, letting the coach roll to a stop. Leaping down to the ground, they all hunkered down behind the carriage and drew their firearms, just in case. Breathless, they waited, as the distant hoofbeats grew louder. They waited and waited, until...

Thudud! Thudududud!

The riders thundered past the entrance to the small forest path in the distance.

Please don't let'em see us! Please don't let'em see us!

Clutching her brand-new pistol, Amy peered around the corner of the coach—only to catch a glimpse of dust and hooves, and then...nothing.

"Are...are they gone?" Amy's whisper echoed between the trees.

"I'll go and check." Eyes glittering dangerously, Patrick slowly rose to his feet.

Amy suddenly felt a lump in her throat. Reaching out, she squeezed his shoulder before she knew what she was doing.

"Be...be careful, will you?"

"Don't worry." With a ka-clack noise, he reloaded his gun and started moving forward. "I'm a gentleman, remember? As most English gentlemen, I'm quite adept at hunting in the forest."

And he vanished into the trees.

Amy stared after him for several seconds—before suddenly, a spike of dread pierced through her. "Bloody 'ell! Da coach!"

"What about the coach?" Karim frowned, jabbing a finger towards the carriage. "It's right there."

"Not dat coach. Our coach! It's still 'idden up dere in da forest!" She jabbed a finger up the incline. "If dose people find it..."

She didn't need to finish her sentence.

"I'll go fetch it!" His jaw and beard set in determination, Karim stepped out from behind the coach. Drawing his sabre, he pushed it into Titus's hands, who buckled under the weight. "Henceforth, it is your duty to defend those who remain. Fight and die like a man in the defence of the innocent!"

"Errr...yes, definitely. Fight and..." He swallowed. "Die, you said?"

Karim clapped a hand on his shoulder and squeezed hard enough for bones to creak. "With honour!"

Then he turned and disappeared into the forest.

Unable to resist, Amy smirked at Titus. "Did ye 'ear? With honour."

"Oh, shut up!"

***