No! No! You cannot give up now! What’s done is done! You cannot, you must not give up now! Come on Adriana, come on! Everything you’ve hoped for hinges on this moment! Be strong! Get up! Get up NOW!
She pushed into the edge of the bed with a trembling hand and levered herself up into a standing position. Still breathing hard, she took a tissue from a box next to the bed and used it to wipe the vomit from the corners of her mouth, and then she breathed in a long, calming breath and held it in as long as she could, trying to force herself to calm down. After she released the breath she felt a bit more collected, so she strapped the watch onto her wrist and then checked the time. The appointed hour had arrived.
She pressed the button on the side of the watch and read over the directions that came up on the watch face. It seemed like the grille she needed to get to wasn’t too far from her room. After taking one more deep breath she slipped the key into the lock and opened the door. With her heart pounding with a booming, primal fear, she peeked out of the open door, scanning the corridor up and down. It was empty.
This was it. Adriana stepped out, closed and locked the door behind her, and crept off into the gloom of the labyrinth.
A second later all the lights went out.
PART FOURTEEN
46
WILLIAM
25th October 1854. British Light Cavalry position, Balaclava Valley, The Crimea, Ukraine
‘What’s going on across the valley there?’ Paul asked, unable to see clearly due to his mild short-sightedness.
After making this enquiry he stared in suspense at William, who had just returned from a brief consultation with Captain Liversage. William craned his neck and raised a hand to shield his face from the low morning sun.
‘All I can see is the Russian army at the other end ay the plain, Pauly,’ he replied. ‘Looks tae be a big artillery brigade out front, wi’ cavalry behind ‘em. I’m no’ sure what’s going on there, or whether they’re going tae advance an’ attack us; I’d imagine that’d be their course ay action. What the captain’s just told me is tha’ the Russian forces ha’ taken the Turkish artillery redoubts on the valley sides, so they’ve got the advantage on us now. Tha’s what all the firing an’ battle noise was tha’ we been hearing since dawn.’
‘Things are no’ going well fir us then?’
William shook his head slowly, his face grim.
‘No’ according tae Captain Liversage. He’s worried, Pauly. I’ve ne’er seen him worried before, an’ tha’ worries me.’
Paul shifted in his saddle, his nervousness and apprehension blatantly apparent in his shifting eyes and excessively fidgety hands.
‘Aye, me too boyo. Me too,’ he muttered, a pallor slowly bleaching the colour from his usually ruddy cheeks. ‘Why’d he send you back here tae the lines? Does he no’ need your help right now?’
‘No’ now, no. He an’ the other officers are discussing what tae dae. They’re all arguin’, like. Most of ‘em are still sore about the fact tha’ we didnae see action at the battle ay the Alma last month.’
Paul’s frown deepened, and he leaned over to whisper to William.
‘Tae tell you the truth, brother, I’m no’ so sore about tha’. In fact I’m rather pleased, tae be perfectly honest. I was hopin’ we’d get by today wi’out seeing no action neither. I’m nervous, Will. Even … even, maybe … a bit scared. I dunnae think it’s really cowardly tae admit tha’, is it?’
William could plainly see the fear brimming in his friend’s eyes, and at once a crushing weight felt as if it was pressing down on his own shoulders. This fear was a giant squid from the ocean depths, wrapping its slimy, trunk-thick tentacles around him, pulling him down into dark, crushing water. All he wanted to do was to whisk himself and his friends away from here – away from these uniforms, these weapons, these sounds of cannons and muskets and steel ringing on steel, the hoarse roaring of orders, and the terrible screams of dying men and horses resounding across from the battlefield, and be back in the serene silence and pastoral beauty of the Scottish Highlands. He swallowed the rising sadness in his throat and reached over to squeeze his friend’s shoulder.
‘You’re no coward, Pauly. No’ in the least. Every man fears death, whether he admits it or no’. I dunnae want tae die either, my friend, an’ I dunnae want tae see any ay yous die neither. We’ve got no family in this world but one another, us orphans from auld Goody-Goode’s flue faker days. Sir MacTaggart was the closest thing tae a father any ay us ha’ e’er known, an’ he’s gone now too. All we’ve got is each other, Pauly, an’ I dunnae want tae lose the only family I’ve got in this world.’
‘Promise me you’ll come out ay this alive,’ Paul said quietly to William. ‘Promise me tha’, brother.’
William gripped his friend’s shoulder tightly and swallowed the fear, dread and sadness that was threatening to overwhelm him completely.
‘I promise you Paul, my brother, tha’ I’ll – no, tha’ we’ll – survive this. Promise me the same, my friend.’
‘I’ll dae my best, Will. Aye, I’ll dae my best.’
William sifted with his eyes through the ranks of horses
