The
A
Cordelia Delacourt Adventure
Chapter
8 The
Escape
It was, Priscilla reflected one of the most memorable baths she had ever had. Not only was the scented water delightfully warm, seeming to soak out all of the aches and pains she had suffered when Messalina had ravaged her, but bathing with another woman, even one as frightening as the Baroness was an incredibly erotic experience. Throughout the bath she couldn’t help noticing Messalina’s beautiful body although she was careful to be discreet about how she watched her.
The Baroness intrigued her. She had shown that she was quite capable of dealing out pain and pleasure in equal amounts, but it was the pleasure Priscilla focused on. She had never imagined that sex could be so incredibly pleasurable, and even though her vulva and vagina still throbbed from the painful loss of her virginity, she was almost willing to undergo the ordeal once more just to experience that incredible sensation of Messalina’s tongue between the folds of her vulva. At the same time, the Baroness terrified her. If she would torment a complete stranger in so brutal a fashion there was no telling what she might do later on.
And then there was the matter of Cordelia and Miss Brown. What was happening to them? Without her to protect them there was no telling what sort of danger they might be in. She shuddered as she thought of what horrors her innocent young niece might be facing. She was not quite so concerned for Miss Brown. In spite of the attempts to ape her betters it was more than obvious that the girl was little more than low-born gutter trash.
“Somehow,” Priscilla thought, “I’ve got to find a way to get away from Messalina’s clutches. But how? I’m hardly likely to escape when I’m taking a bath with her.”
Her reverie was broken into by the very woman who occupied her thoughts. “That’s long enough, don’t you think?” the Baroness asked. “We’re going to be as wrinkled as prunes if we stay any longer.” Without waiting for an answer Messalina got to her feet and draped a towel about her elegant body before offering another one to Priscilla. “Time to get dressed, and find out what that brother of mine is up to. He must know something about the escape of that transplant.”
Priscilla dried herself and draping a robe about her followed Messalina from
the bathroom. The Baroness crossed
to a bell pull and tugged on it. A
few minutes later a servant entered the
room. “What kept you?”
Messalina growled.
“Don’t you think I have better things to do that wait on
my servants?” She point
toward the transplant. “Have
this thing removed from my room at once and have some
The serving girl stared in horror at the transplant. “Mistress,” she gasped, “What is that doing in here? I must tell the Baron.”
“Tell me what?” asked a voice from the doorway. The Baron stepped into the room and immediately caught sight of the transplant. “So this is where it got to.” He looked toward Messalina. “Are you alright, sister? It did not harm you?”
“Yes it harmed me,” Messalina relied angrily. “You really should take better care of your pets. But I will not discuss this in front of the servants. Just get it out of here.”
“I’m sorry Messalina,” von Thorstenburg replied contritely. “I have dealt with the problem that led to Heinz’s escape and I can assure you that the one responsible is even now being punished.” He looked toward Priscilla. “Miss Knotworth. I hope that you too were not harmed.”
“N…not by that thing,” Priscilla stuttered.
“Good,” said the Baron, before Priscilla could say anything more. “Then I will leave you two alone.” He turned and left before Priscilla could answer, not she expected that the Baron was likely to do anything to help her in any case. It seemed very unlikely that the Baron was unaware of Messalina’s actions. They were monsters, both of them and somehow she had to find a way to escape. But as Messalina turned to her with a smile lighting up her sensuous lips, Priscilla wondered how she was ever going to be able to do that.
Liz cried out as she was penetrated. Her vagina was so sore even the slightest touch was agonizing and the man taking her was better endowed than most. What Heinrich and Albrecht had started had not stopped once they were satisfied. After raping her twice each they had invited in a few of their friends who had been more than willing to take up where they had left off. It had made for an exhausting and painful night; one that had not ended with the coming of morning. By now she was hardly responding to the rape and could only hope that eventually her violators would find something else to do.
“Enough, Karl. Finish her off and get back on duty. The Baron has work for us to do.”
There was a curse from the man thrusting into her. “I was just getting started,” he protested.
“Well get finished. We can fuck her some more later. Right now the Baron wants everyone in the castle to report to him.”
Karl quickened his pace, his breathing coming faster as he rushed toward climax. The pain was incredible, but Liz could do nothing but endure it. Fortunately it was over in just a minute. Karl ejaculated and pulled out of her. “That was a rush job bitch. I’m still owed a proper fuck. As soon as I’m free I’ll come back and take it.”
Heinrich’s voice broke in. “Maybe we should tie her up again.”
“No,” Albrecht said. “I doubt that the slut can even walk. I’ll just lock the door. She’s not going anywhere.”
Liz breathed a silent prayer of thanks. After the third rape she had been untied, and she was glad she did not have to undergo the pain and discomfort of being bound again while in her condition. The door closed and a key turned in the lock. She just lay where she was, her body throbbing with pain especially in the region between her legs. But she knew she couldn’t simply lie where she was. Cordelia was no doubt in terrible danger. There was no telling what the Baron was doing to her. Somehow she had to find a way out of the room and save her mistress.
Cordelia awoke and immediately let out a groan. Someone was pounding a kettle drum inside her head and her cunt and asshole felt as if she had been impaled. “Very unladylike thoughts. But damn it. The Baron had really fucked her.”
She struggled to a sitting position, expecting to see the Baron beside her, but he was not in the bed. Surprised, she slid off the side of the bed, ignoring the steady pounding in her head, the throbbing pain in her nether region, and the aching in her breasts. She needed to pee desperately and headed for the bathroom, wondering at the Baron’s absence.
“Damn.
I shouldn’t have drunk so much
wine. What did I do last
night? The Baron seems to have
given me a severe pounding.
I’m going to be sore for a
month.”
She reached the bathroom and completed her bodily functions. Then she took the time to clean up a little and dunk her head in cold water to relieve the pain a little. It seemed to help, but she couldn’t be worrying about aches and pains now. The Baron might return at any time and she had to see if there was any way of getting out of the room.
She hurriedly pulled on her clothing, not even bothering to brush her hair,
and trying to ignore the pain of her wedding
night.
“Bastard. I’ll get even with him for
this.”
She went to the door and tried the doorknob. Not surprisingly it was locked and she looked toward the windows. They were full length and opened to a balcony that overlooked the Austrian countryside. Unfortunately there was a sheer drop of several hundred feet on this side of the castle, the Baron having located his room over a cliff that dropped down to a distant river. Without a complete set of climbing gear there was no way out of the castle that way.
“Enjoying the view, my dear?”
Cordelia froze and then turned slowly, attempting to appear nonchalant, and faced the Baron. “It…it is most spectacular,” she stammered. She cursed herself for not having looked for some sort of weapon. Certainly there should have been something in the room she could have used, even if it was only to throw at him.
“I see that you have not had time to dress properly. I will send in the maidservant. I also expect you are hungry. You and I were rather busy last night; no doubt you worked up quite an appetite.”
“Y…yes,” Cordelia answered. “Thank you that would be very nice.”
“I will return shortly,” the Baron said. “I still have a few things to attend to. Then I wish you to help me with setting up my new laboratory.”
“Of course,” Cordelia agreed. She might as well go along with this for now. There seemed no opportunity to escape at present, but perhaps if she pretended to cooperate she might find a way.
The Baron took longer than she had supposed he would. It gave Cordelia a chance to bathe, dress, and have breakfast before he returned. The bath helped to wash away the memory of the wedding night; what little she could remember. To say that her recollection of that event was a little hazy was an understatement. But her backside and loins reminded her that she had undergone something of an ordeal. When the Baron finally showed up she was almost impatient for the chance to get back at him.
There was, however, the fact that she was still completely within his power. And that he still held Liz and Aunt Priscilla hostage. Somehow she would have to find a way to save them too. Only then would she be able to act against the Baron.
The Baron escorted her down a corridor that led away from the living quarters and down another long hallway that led to a part of the castle that appeared to be somewhat disused, judging from the amount of dust that lay on everything. She could see that it had been visited recently by the footprints on the rather worn carpet. Reaching a large door one of the Baron’s guards flung it opened and they entered.
Cordelia saw that she was in a huge room. Currently it was poorly lit by just a few candles, but a number of servants were busy placing more candles in several huge crystal chandeliers that had been lowered from the high ceiling.
“As you can see,” the Baron said. “This used to be the castle ballroom. I had hoped to eventually return it to that function, but for now it will have to serve as my new laboratory until the old one can be pumped out.”
“Pumped
out? How did it come to be
flooded?” Cordelia
suspected that Liz might have had something to do with it, and that reminded
her that she had not seen her companion or her
aunt. She reminded the Baron
of that fact and got a far from satisfactory answer.
“You will see Miss Brown and Miss Knotworth as soon as you and I set up the new laboratory. I am having my servants bring up what equipment they can, but they are illiterates and incapable of understanding simple instructions. You, my sweet wife, on the other hand, are quite knowledgeable in scientific matters and should be of great help.”
Cordelia noticed that there was a jumble of apparatus scattered about the room, including a couple of what appeared to be small dynamos. She also noticed all of the transplants lying in a row on a large slab in the centre of the room. She wondered how they had come to be there and noted that three of them appeared to have suffered a number of bullet wounds and other injuries.
“We will have to deal with them first,” the Baron explained, catching the direction of Cordelia’s gaze. Fortunately Heinz is not damaged, but his batteries have been completely run down. However, I have been able to salvage enough power packs to revive him and repair the others. They are really not alive in the true sense of the word and thus can’t be killed.”
The Baron picked up a set of electrical leads and handed them to Cordelia. “Here you are. I am sure you know enough about electrical theory to set up a parallel circuit. Wire together the three injured transplants by attaching the electrical clamps to their fingers, toes, and ears. That will slow the deterioration of their bodies until they can be properly repaired. Leave Heinz, although his battery is low there is enough power left to keep him from deteriorating and I don’t want him waking up right now anyway.”
Cordelia looked at the leads. Although she had never worked with any actual electrical apparatus she had been so fascinated by the subject that she had read several books on it, including all of Michael Faraday’s works on the subject. Turning her attention to the bodies she did as the Baron asked and soon had them suitably hooked up.
“Excellent, Cordelia,” the Baron beamed, twisting his mustache. “I was right to choose you as my wife even if you are not as pure as I would have liked.” He moved to one of the generators. “Now help me with this. It is nothing like the generator that your companion put out of action, but it will help to power the pumps and allow me to get back into my main laboratory. I just hope that there is not too much water damage.”
Cordelia could hide her curiosity no longer. “Just what did Miss Brown do?”
The Baron glowered at her, and then his features relaxed. “I don’t like to discuss it, but I suppose you should know. Somehow, Miss Brown managed to escape the transplant holding room. She released the transplants, which went on a murderous rampage, charging through the castle and even attacking my sister. But worst of all she somehow managed to find a way to sabotage the turbine that turned my dynamo. As a result the laboratory was completely flooded and much of my equipment badly damaged. It is only the fact that I am a humane and restrained individual that I did not sentence your companion to death.”
“Bravo,
Liz. I hope you are
safe. The Baron has been hiding
something about you from me. I
don’t believe for a second that you are safe, but if you are alive I
will find some way to save you.”
“Now come over here, Cordelia,” the Baron urged, stepping toward one of the smaller dynamos. “I want you to supervise the placement of the dynamo while I tend to its power source. I am setting up a steam engine outside and want the spindle of the dynamo to project through that window.”
Cordelia nodded her understanding. She was surprised at the amount of trust the Baron was showing her, but supposed that he had probably asked a few of his henchmen to keep an eye on her. The tasks he was assigning her were probably a test of her competence and obedience. Whatever he was the Baron did not appear to be a fool.
The Baron headed off, followed by half a dozen men, leaving Cordelia to test her authority. She went to the window and peered out. About thirty feet below her a score of men were manhandling a heavy piece of machinery into position. It appeared to be an old Boulton and Watt steam engine. Obsolete, but probably still serviceable. No doubt the Baron had hoped he would no longer have to depend on such ponderous equipment. Water power was so much quieter and more efficient, but Liz’s little escapade had set him back, and probably saved both her and Cordelia from the bizarre fate the Baron had planned for them.
“Thank you again, Liz. You saved both of us.” She shuddered. The thought of having her chest cut open and her internal organs replaced by some humming machinery was truly horrifying. Cordelia decided it was time to test her authority.
“All right you lot,” she commanded. “Come over here.” To her relief the Baron’s men gathered round and listened attentively as she explained what she wanted them to do. It was simple enough really. The dynamo had to be moved to the window and then properly secured. It was a heavy piece of machinery, but it was sitting on rollers and the efforts of the men in the room soon had it in position. Cordelia then supervised the securing of the dynamo, which meant hammering heavy bolts into the marble floor, an act that made Cordelia wince. She then ordered the heavy drive belts into position, and watched while they were secured to the pulley wheel at the end of the spindle.
Outside the castle she could hear the Baron ordering about the men working on the steam engine. She decided to see just how far her authority extended. “Bring me those cables,” she ordered, pointing to a pile of insulated electrical cable piled on the floor.
For a few seconds the men she was speaking to just stared at her then they
moved to do her bidding.
“Good. If I can just keep them busy there
might be something I can do.”
The cable was quite tangled. No doubt it was material the Baron had once used, but had stored away when he had installed more up-to-date equipment. Now it was a tangled mess, usable cable mixed up with scrap. Cordelia stood by and supervised while the men sorted through it. As the good was separated from the bad she spliced it together using electrical connectors and then assembled a crude junction box. About halfway through the job the Baron returned.
“This is quite impressive,” the Baron said. “You are to be congratulated. With your help I will have my temporary laboratory set up in no time. I am glad you have finally seen fit to support me as a loving spouse should.”
Cordelia gave what she hoped was a sincere smile of appreciation. Her plan depended on the Baron trusting her enough not to watch what she was doing or have him men hinder her in any way. “Thank you, husband. I am sorry I was so rebellious. I see now that you were right all along. You were so magnificent last night.”
To her surprise the Baron actually blushed. He moved close to her and lowered his voice “It is best not to discuss such things within earshot of the servants, my dear. Perhaps tonight we can discuss them in private.”
Cordelia licked her lips and nodded. “Shall I continue here?”
“Yes,” the Baron said. “You seem to have the situation here well in hand. I’ll see about the steam engine. With any luck we might have it operational by tomorrow and then we’ll have proper power.”
With another smile Cordelia went back to her work. Her plan had to work. She couldn’t face another night with the Baron. Her loins ached at the thought. She watched out of the corner of her eye as the Baron departed. She would have to work fast; he probably wouldn’t be gone long. Quickly she went about completing her work on the junction box.
Interestingly, the more she worked the easier the job became, perhaps a result of the fact that although she had read a great deal about electrical theory she had not had any practical experience. But now the complex wiring diagrams she had studied came to life as she made connection after connection, earning a few blisters due to the unaccustomed work.
Within a short time she had completed the connections and now came the time to test her authority. She was the Baron’s wife, but would his servants recognize her as such or did they simply think of her as another of the Baron’s victims? So far they had done what she had asked, but then she had not asked for very much and seemed to be following the Baron’s instructions. What she intended to do next might exceed what they considered her authority.
She walked over to the large slab where the bodies of the transplants were laid out. Ignoring the first three she went to the one the Baron had called Heinz. Immediately one of the Baron’s men came over to her. “Pardon me, madam, but the baron does not wish the transplants touched.”
Cordelia drew herself up to her full five-foot-eight-inches. Throughout most of her adult life she had been acutely conscious of her height, but now she used it to advantage. Staring down her nose at the Baron’s man she adopted her most upper class voice. “And who are you to speak to the Baroness von Thorstenburg in such a manner?”
“I… The Baroness…? The man stammered.
“Surely you must know that I am now second only to the Baron in this castle. I find your manner insulting and offensive. Kindly step aside and let me finish my work or must I send word to the Baron about your boorish behaviour?”
“I beg your pardon, mistress,” the man said bowing and stepping back. “I did not mean to offend.”
“Very well,” Cordelia replied, “you may assist me in my examination. Help me move Heinz where I may inspect him.”
Several men moved to do her bidding, apparently having decided that she was someone to be obeyed. They dragged the body to the edge of the slab. Cordelia noted that Heinz seemed unusually heavy, even for a man or perhaps ‘thing’ was a better word.
Cordelia tried to remember how she had seen Heinz hooked up in the Baron’s underground laboratory, but supposed that she could just attach connections to him the way she had done to the others. She spotted an opening the size of a large nail head in the side of the neck and remembered that some form of electrical lead had been plugged in there. However, she had no such lead, but she did have wire and with the construction going on around the ballroom there seemed to be plenty of nails of all sizes.
Winding a length of wire around one of the nails she plugged it into what she hoped was the electrical terminal and then hooked it up to several of the Baron’s power packs in series. Immediately something inside Heinz began to hum.
The man who had spoken to Cordelia backed away, looking worried. “Your pardon, mistress, but should you have done that?”
“He should be fine,” Cordelia answered. “The Baron and I discussed it this morning.” Nonchalantly she picked up her tools and moved across the room at the same time looking for an opening. If what she hoped happened she was going to have a much needed distraction that would help her escape from the room and perhaps find Liz and Aunt Priscilla.
“Shouldn’t it be restrained just in case?” the servant persisted, following Cordelia across the room.
“Do not second-guess me,” Cordelia answered. “Now help me with this.” She indicated a stockpile of coal oil lanterns and fuel along with and several boxes of candles. It looked as if the Baron had cleaned out all of the supplies of lighting materials in the surrounding villages as well as any emergency supplies that might have been kept in the castle.
“What are we to do with them, mistress?” the servant asked.
“Open the oil containers,” Cordelia said, “and check the quality of the oil. I want to make sure that it hasn’t spoiled.”
“Spoiled, mistress?” questioned the servant. “I have never known coal oil to spoil.”
“Tell me,” Cordelia commanded imperiously. “Do you ask all these questions of the Baron when he tells you what to do? If so he must find you quite tiresome.”
The implied threat seemed to shut the man up. Along with several others he began to remove the metal caps from the coal oil containers while Cordelia pretended to inspect the candles.
She drew it out for as long as she could while waiting for something to happen to Heinz. It was a delicate game. The Baron could return at any moment and this time he might not be quite so pleased with what Cordelia had done.
A cry from across the room drew everyone’s attention. As Cordelia had hoped, channeling power into Heinz has produced the desired results. The transplant was sitting up on the slab and gazing around. In spite of the fact that his face was completely expressionless he evoked a feeling of terror. Immediately the Baron’s men raised their weapons.
It was the opportunity Cordelia needed. Tipping over several of the cans of coal oil she pulled down a lantern that was hanging from the ceiling and hurled into the spreading pool of oil. With a whoosh the oil erupted into flame, filling that part of the ballroom with heat and smoke.
Having created the necessary distraction, or rather two of them, Cordelia headed for the door to the ballroom, hoping to escape into the other parts of the castle and somehow find her aunt and Liz.
She was almost out of the room when two men barred her way. They had apparently been stationed outside the doorway precisely for that purpose. “I am sorry, mistress,” said one of them, stepping forward. “But the Baron has asked that you remain here until he returns. For your own safety, of course.”
This time Cordelia did not try to bluff her way through. With the uproar behind her she didn’t have much time to waste. In a very unladylike fashion she raised the hem of her dress and kicked the man between the legs. It had the desired effect, doubling the man up and rendering him, hors de combat at least temporarily. She gave the second man no time to react stepping toward him and delivering a solid punch to the nose with every bit of her 135 pounds behind it.
She had been told by the hunter and explorer Henry Burton that when push came to shove, a blow to the nose was a very effective technique, serving both to demoralize the recipient and give him a painful injury at the same time. It turned out that he was right, the second man clutched his nose while the blood ran between his fingers.
Cordelia didn’t wait to see how long the two men were laid up. She was already dashing past them down the hall and back the way she had come, ignoring the nagging pain in her nether regions. Behind her she could hear screams and shouts, but she didn’t look back. Liz, she was certain, was in terrible danger and she had to find her. And then there was the matter of her missing aunt.
She was able to remember the twists and turns of the corridors and eventually found herself back near the Baron’s room. The room that had been assigned to her and Liz was also close by and she headed there first. Not surprisingly it was deserted, but she had not expected to find Liz there anyway. But there was something she hoped was still there.
She breathed a sigh of relief when she saw that her bags were still
there. She picked up her valise
and plopped it onto the bed.
Popping it open she tossed out the clothes and found a small catch
on the bottom. She turned it,
and lifted up the false bottom, revealing a matched pair of
Tying the sash from her robe she tucked the revolvers into it and went to Liz’s bags. Lifting an identical valise to the bed she repeated what she had done with her own and pulled out two more pistols. “Twenty shots. I hope that is enough.”
The revolvers were fully loaded except for one final
touch. Taking out a small bag
she shook several percussion caps into her
hand. She carefully applied a
cap to each of the five nipples on each
pistol.
“Now
to find Liz and Aunt Priscilla.”
She slipped out of the room. Which way to go? Liz and her Aunt could be anywhere in the castle. She remembered that the Baron had hinted her aunt might be with the Baroness. It was as good a place to start as ever.
She moved down the corridor, finding it strangely deserted. Perhaps the diversion she had created was working better than she had hoped. Whatever the reason she was glad to take advantage of it. Messalina’s quarters were the length of the corridor from where the Baron’s had been and easily recognizable from the ornately carved oak doors, decorated with cherubs, fauns, and other ancient symbols of love. Cordelia thought it a bit offensive, but right now she was not really interested in the Baroness’ taste in art.
She tried the door and found it unlocked. Turning the handle she found she had to strain to pull open the door, noting that it was a good three inches thick. Even before it was fully open she was reaching for one of the four revolvers she had tucked into her sash, then she paused. The sounds issuing from the room were unmistakably moans of passion. What was she interrupting?
Swinging the door wide she found herself in a comfortable living areas. The moaning and groaning was coming from a doorway on the other side of the room. Cordelia closed the door behind her, and noticing a large key sitting on a table next to the door placed it in the lock and turned it. The lock might not hold for long, but it would at least alert her to the fact that someone was coming.
She moved toward the sound of sexual activity. One of the participants was crying out, begging for mercy, but her voice did not sound as if she was in any real pain. “Oh stop, please stop. I can’t take much more. Oh, oh, oh!”
Cordelia peeked around the corner and beheld a surprising sight. Aunt Priscilla was lying on the bed, Messalina’s head between her thighs, and was moaning in obvious sexual ecstasy. And it seemed almost consensual. Other than a leather collar around her neck Aunt Priscilla was not restrained in any way.
For a few seconds Cordelia hesitated, not wanting to interrupt what obviously a moment of passion for her supposedly frigid aunt, and then she moved. Aunt Priscilla might be enjoying herself, but Liz probably wasn’t. She had to find her companion and do it before the Baron and his men caught up with her. She stepped into the room.
“Baroness, get up and get dressed. And don’t argue. I’m not in a particularly good mood.” Cordelia entered with two of her four revolvers aimed at the Baroness. She hoped her expression was grim enough that Messalina would do as she was told. If not she was quite prepared to shoot her if that was the only way to get her aunt out of the castle.
Messalina leaped off the bed, obviously startled by Cordelia’s sudden appearance. “How dare you come in here!” she exclaimed indignantly. “Leave immediately or I shall summon the servants. In spite of her nudity she attempted to adopt an imperious appearance, drawing herself up haughtily and fixing Cordelia with a cold stare.
Anger mixed with the practical knowledge that she could not afford to waste time drove Cordelia to her next act. She stepped forward and delivered a hard slap to Messalina’s face. The fact that she did not release her grip on the heavy pistol lent significant weight to her action. The Baroness was knocked sideways against the bed, bouncing off it and landing on the floor.
Shock, replaced by fear swept over Messalina’s features. She sat stunned on the floor, her hand to the large welt on her cheek. “I said get dressed,” Cordelia said, directing the muzzle of the gun toward the Baroness. “I won’t tell you again. You can either get dressed and do as I say or I will leave you here with a bullet hole in you.”
She would have done no such thing, but she was hoping the Baroness would not challenge her on that. As the Baroness staggered to her feet she looked toward the bed and Aunt Priscilla. Her aunt had rolled over and was attempting to cover her nudity with the blankets, but not before Cordelia caught sight of the welts on her back and buttocks. Her anger surged, but she held back taking any further action against Messalina. Instead she spoke softly to her aunt.
“Aunt Priscilla, please get dressed we have to get out of here. The Baron’s men could come at any moment and there is no telling what they will do.”
To her relief her aunt posed no objections, and still clutching the blankets, got off the bed and made her way to a pile of clothing and began to dress. Messalina too began to pull on her clothing, her hands shaking somewhat. Cordelia was not able to determine whether it was from fear or rage. “Hurry,” she urged. She couldn’t afford to have each woman go through all of the elaborate rituals involving Victorian Era dressing. Fortunately, Priscilla seemed to understand that and didn’t bother with the multiple layers of petticoats she would usually have worn, and Messalina seemed cowed enough to simply pull on a gown.
“Let’s go,” Cordelia said. She held out one of the revolvers to her aunt. “Can you use one of these?”
“I’ve fired a fowling piece,” Priscilla answered as she took the heavy pistol. Like many upper class women, the use of sporting rifles and shotguns was part of their upbringing. The heavy revolver was quite different from a sporting piece, but from the way Priscilla held it, Cordelia expected that she would know how to use it.
Her aunt seemed quite subdued. Obviously her little session with Messalina had left her somewhat changed, and that was not necessarily a bad thing. If it made her less haughty and more cooperative Cordelia hoped that she would stay that way until they got out of their current predicament.
“Watch the Baroness,” Cordelia ordered. She went to the bell pull, and taking a pair of shears she had stolen from the Baron’s ballroom lab from her pocket, she cut a length of rope. Moving to the still stunned Messalina she pulled her hands behind her back and tied her wrists, leaving about six feet left over. “Now move, she said, pushing the Baroness before her. “If there is any shooting you are probably going to take a bullet.”
“You won’t get away with this,” Messalina threatened. “I’ll flay you alive for this humiliation.”
“Maybe,” Cordelia said. “Or maybe you’ll be dead. Now get moving or I’ll give you another lesson in manners.”
Messalina moved forward as Cordelia directed her toward the door. She opened it and pushed her into the hallway.
It was empty and Cordelia could smell smoke. It appeared her “diversion” was still working well. Pushing Messalina ahead of her she moved down the corridor. Hoping that Liz was somewhere close by, she stopped and checked every door as she moved through the castle.
She stopped when she came to one that was locked. It was the only one in the corridor that was. Cordelia looked around and saw a suit of armour compete with halberd standing in an alcove. “That will do,” she muttered. “Aunt Priscilla, can you watch Messalina?”
Priscilla, who had been uncommonly quiet, merely nodded, training her pistol on the Baroness and taking hold of the rope that bound her wrists.
“This is useless, you know,” Messalina said, breaking the silence. “You have no chance of escaping. You’ll just get yourself killed.”
“I would prefer death to what the Baron has planned for me,” Cordelia answered as she swung the heavy halberd, smashing its curved point through one of the door panels.
“The Baron,” Messalina sneered. “You mean your husband, don’t you?”
Cordelia did not answer as she struck the door again, but her aunt did. “Husband?” Priscilla asked. “What does she mean, ‘husband?’”
“Nothing,” Cordelia replied as she smashed open the door panel. “A forced marriage is not valid.”
“Oh, Cordelia,” Priscilla gasped. “What did that man do to you?”
“Nothing that wasn’t done to you, aunt.” But aloud she said, “It’s alright, Aunt Priscilla. I managed to get away.”
Messalina laughed. “But not before my brother made the marriage good and legal.”
Cordelia turned slightly. “I suggest you be quiet, unless you want me to gag you. Although I expect you might even enjoy that wouldn’t you?”
She was almost through the door. Two more blows and there was enough room for Cordelia to squeeze through the opening. Inside the room was dark, but she found the gaslight and turned it up. “You bastards,” she muttered.
Liz was lying face down on a filthy mattress. It was obvious that she had been badly used. Her body was covered with bruises and she seemed to be unconscious, but to Cordelia’s considerable relief she raised her head as she entered the room.
“Cordy?” Liz muttered. “Knew you’d come.”
Cordelia rushed to the side of her companion. “Oh Liz,” said wrapping her arms around her.”
“’Ere, ave a care,” Liz said weakly. “I’m a bit sore.”
Cordelia realized that the guns she had stashed in her belt were jamming into Liz’s ribs and moved back. “Can you walk?” she asked. “We have to get out of here before the Baron figures out where we are.”
“Cor,” Liz groaned as she attempted to move. “Those nobblers really worked me over.” She managed to sit up, although it was obvious she was in severe pain. “Damned if I’ll stay here and let those bludgers ‘ave another go at me. Just ‘elp me wiv’ me things.”
Cordelia saw only a man’s trousers and shirt on hand. There was another story here, one that dealt with the loss of Liz’s clothing, but there was no time for it to be recounted now. She helped Liz into the shirt and trousers and a pair of ill-fitting shoes. She handed Liz one of the revolvers and then stepped into the hall, rejoining Priscilla and the sneering Messalina.
“Stupid fools,” the Baroness said. “You’ll never escape. You’ll only anger the Baron and I will take personal delight in your punishment.”
Cordelia resisted an urge to give the Baroness another bruise. She burned to find the Baron and take vengeance for what he had done or allowed to be done to Liz, but that was too dangerous. Vengeance could come later after she had first rescued her friend and her aunt. “No more out of you,” Cordelia warned Messalina. Then she set off down the corridor, moving slowly partly out of caution and party so that Liz could match her pace.
To her credit, the Cockney girl didn’t complain even once, although the bruising Cordelia had seen and her limping walk told her that she must be in considerable pain.
They made their way down the main upstairs hall to the main staircase. Just a few yards away was possible freedom if only they could make it down the stairs and across the huge foyer to the main doors. If they could get to the stables they could get hold of a few horses or perhaps even a coach or buggy.
Cordelia went first with Aunt Priscilla and Liz escorting
Messalina. They were halfway
down the stairs when several of the Baron’s men emerged from a doorway
that led in from the side of the foyer.
Exposed on the staircase there was no place to hide and they were
seen almost immediately. Making
up her mind in an instant, Cordelia decided to try and force her way
through. Raising the
“That’s close enough,” she warned. “Don’t make me use this. All I want to do is leave the castle.”
“Don’t listen to her,” Messalina shouted. “She hasn’t got the courage to use it.”
The men had stopped at the sight of the gun, even though several of them were armed with pistols of their own. But Messalina’s words spurred them into action. They raised their weapons and began to spread out. “Put down your guns and you won’t get hurt,” one of the men urged.
Cordelia realized that there was no way she could bargain her way out of the situation. She and her companions were outnumbered and more of the Baron’s men might show up at any second. She answered the man’s demand by raising her revolver and firing.
The bullet went wide, but it sent the men running for cover. Only one man stayed, firing back with his own weapon, and sending a bullet ricocheting off the balustrade. Cordelia fired again, and missed a second time. But a third shot brought the man down. To Cordelia’s surprise the shot came from behind her and she turned just in time to see Aunt Priscilla lowering her revolver. Her aunt’s face was white as bleached ivory, but she held her revolver ready for another shot.
“Come on,” Cordelia shouted, giving Messalina a push that almost sent the Baroness tumbling down the staircase. They were terribly exposed and couldn’t stay where they were. Shoving Messalina ahead of her she moved to the bottom of the stairs. She had no qualms about using the Baroness as a shield considering how she had treated Aunt Priscilla. Unfortunately, the bottom of the staircase offered not much more shelter than the stairs themselves and more and more of the Baron’s men were pouring into the foyer.
There was only one place that offered any refuge and that was the door at the base of the staircase that led to the Baron’s subterranean laboratory. So far as Cordelia knew it was a dead end with no way out except the single stairway leading down to it, but at least it would offer some shelter from the men who were closing in around her.
“Cordy,” Liz said as she backed toward the door. “I don’t think this is a good place to ‘ide.”
“Why not?” But her silent question was answered almost as soon as she was through the door. The dark gleam of water showed that the basement laboratory had undergone a major transformation since she had last seen it.
“Sorry, Cordy, I think that’s my fault.” Liz confessed.
“Stupid bitch. Caught in a trap of her own making,” The Baroness sneered.
Priscilla was watching the door.
She pointed the
“We’ll have to go up,” Cordelia said, looking toward the dim light coming down the upper stairway. It certainly would not have been her first choice. The spiral staircase that led upward twisted out of sight, but Cordelia was not keen on trapping herself in a tower. For some reason neither was Messalina.
“Go up! No, we can’t go up there. It’s not safe,” the Baroness protested.
Cordelia wondered what possible danger there could be up there that was worse than what she had seen on other parts of the Baron’s house of horrors. Was the Baroness trying to deceive her or was there a real danger at the top of the stairs?
“We don’t have a choice,” she said, making up her mind. She pushed Messalina toward the stairs, ignoring her protestations.
The stairs went up much farther than Cordelia expected. They seemed to go nowhere and she gave up counting after one hundred steps. Below her she could hear the sounds of pursuit. She did not fancy being caught like a rat in a trap, but she was running out of places to go. What if what the Baron had said had been true and there really was nothing at the top of the staircase? All her pursuers would have to do is wait until she and her companions were so desperate for food and water that they would have to surrender.
Just as she was about to despair of the stairs ever ending they suddenly opened up into a wide landing. Directly across from the top of the stairs was a massive iron door. Set in its centre was a massive wheel-lock. “What is behind there?” Cordelia demanded, turning to the Baroness.
“You don’t want to know,” Messalina replied. “Give up now while you can. You’re trapped and you know it.”
Cordelia walked back to the top of the staircase. The sound of numerous booted feet decided her. Handing one of her guns to Priscilla, she moved to the door and put her hands on the huge wheel.
“No,” Messalina screamed. “Don’t do that. It will get out.”
“It?” Cordelia shrugged. Could it be any worse than what waited for them if the Baron and his men caught up with them? One look at Liz confirmed that. She tightened her grip and turned the wheel.
To her surprise it turned quite easily and there was the smooth sound of bolts being drawn back. She heaved on the wheel and the door swung open with almost no sound. Almost disappointingly it opened only on another small room with still another heavy door set into it. There was one major difference in this door, however, there was a smaller door set into it that could be opened without opening the larger door. It immediately reminded Cordelia of a prison. If so who or what was held prisoner behind the second door?
“Don’t go in there,” Messalina begged. To her surprise the woman was actually trembling.
“Why don’t you tell me what I should be afraid of and maybe I won’t,” Cordelia replied. “Is it another of your brother’s perverted monsters?”
“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” the Baroness replied. “All I can say is that it is safer for you to surrender than go in there.”
Cordelia could think of little that could be worse than being back in the clutches of the Baron, especially after what she had done to his castle. It was quite possible that Messalina was lying, although it certainly did appear that someone or something was held prisoner in the room. However, she was running out of time.
“They’re coming, Cordelia,” her aunt shouted. Cordelia could wait no longer. Ignoring Messalina she turned the wheel-lock and pulled the door open. She entered the room noting that as in the case of the first door there was no way of locking it from the inside. The doors were constructed to keep something in, not keep something out. But what were they intended to keep in?
The room offered no clues. It was high-ceilinged, the roof disappearing into darkness about thirty feet over her head. Huge hammer beams crossed the space above her. Suspended from one of them was a massive iron chandelier. Its candles provided the only light in the windowless room.
The room was not large, only about thirty feet across and was cluttered with all manner of apparatus, from bottles of chemicals to bits of electrical apparatus and odds and ends of all sorts of broken machinery. There was also an appalling stench of rotting food. Large bones were scattered about the floor along with chunks of meat and vegetable matter. Cordelia noted with relief that none of the bones appeared to be human, but it was still a disgusting mess.
“Gracious,” Aunt Priscilla exclaimed. “What sort of creature could live in such filth?”
Cordelia looked around the room, searching for its inhabitant, but other than the filth and huge collection of trash it appeared to be completely empty. She looked toward the top of the tower again, and shuddered. If there was someone or something in the room there was only one place for them to be.
“They’re here!”
Priscilla’s shout drew Cordelia’s attention. The Baron’s men had reached the outer door. She readied her revolvers, intent on making each shot count. And then watched with surprise as the outer door swung closed.
“No,” screamed Messalina. “Don’t lock me up in here!” Her face had gone deathly white, and her blue eyes were wide with undisguised fear.
“They can’t know I’m in here or they would never have closed the door,” she wailed.
Cordelia had her doubts about that, but one thing was clear. She and her companions were not going to be able to go back down the stairs unless someone opened the door for them and that was only likely to happen if they were prisoners. It did seem harsh though that the Baron had not seen fit to attempt to rescue his sister or perhaps it was his plan not to let any of them out until Messalina had been released. There was nothing to do but wait, and try to find out who else was in the tower room with them.
Cordelia suddenly felt exhausted and she could see that Liz was even worse. As for Priscilla it was hard to tell, but she had little doubt that her aunt must be feeling some effects of her ordeal. “Let’s clear a space,” she suggested. “We’re all very tired and we might be here awhile. If we can get some rest we can try to find some other way out of here.”
She set an example of what she meant by tossing a few pieces of broken metal to one side as she tried to clear a path to a partially blocked doorway on the other side of the tower. As she worked she concluded that the tower room had once been another laboratory, but one that seemed to have been completely trashed. She picked up and studied several jars of chemicals and carefully set them aside. She was beginning to formulate an idea.
She finally reached the doorway. It went nowhere and from the stench of urine and feces was used as a latrine by whatever lived in the tower. There were two holes in the floor that allowed excrement and urine to drop straight down. But there was no way out there unless she could assume the form of a snake.
She returned to the room to find that her weary companions had cleared a large enough space that they could lie down if they chose. Liz had even found a few rather dusty, but serviceable blankets under a pile of rubbish. “We’ll have to take turns keeping watch,” she said. You rest and I’ll take the first turn.”
“What about me?” Messalina asked. “I’m trapped in here too, thanks to your stupidity. Untie me and I’ll take a turn.”
Cordelia almost dismissed the request out of hand and then reconsidered. “You can take a turn, but I’ve not untying you. I have no wish to find you pointing my own gun at me when I awake.”
“Very wise,” Messalina sneered. She settled down on the blankets Liz had set out and attempted to make herself comfortable. Cordelia sat down on a broken countertop. She’d let the others rest for a few hours and then catch a few winks herself.
It didn’t take long for her companions to fall asleep. She had been right about how tired they were, and of course all of them had been through something of an ordeal. She was going to feel rather guilty about waking them when it became her turn to rest.
She waited a few more minutes to make sure her companions were truly asleep and then got up. With as little noise as possible she began to sort through the chemicals. There was quite a variety, some in jars and still more in boxes; depending on how likely the chemical was to react with the air. She lined them all up neatly, wondering why such a wondrous collection of chemicals came to be left amid the wreckage of what must once have been another of the Baron’s laboratories. He seemed to have them all over the place.
Finely, too tired to continue her tidying, she found a broken stool and sat with her back against the wall. She would give her companions a bit more time to rest and then wake one of them. She guessed it would have to be Aunt Priscilla; Liz was far too beaten up to do anything more.
She sighed and leaned back.
“I’ll
give Aunt Priscilla a little longer then I’ll ask her to take the next
watch. Just a little
longer…”
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