The horse was close to collapsing when Anne finally reached the water mill in Surrey. She had been worried when she returned to Newton´s estate and found only Finnegan, who had directed her to Newgate Prison. Apparently, Omar and Newton had questioned one of the prisoners about a counterfeiting scheme. One of the gaolers had heard Newton yell an address to a coachman. Of course, she was too late again. The house was boarded up and a couple of watchmen were busy investigating the corpse inside. Luckily, one of them was helpful. Questioned about Newton, he had no idea. But he clearly remembered the "crazy, blind moor" who had fetched him. The "old geezer he was with" had mumbled something about "coordinates". Proudly, he wrote down a random string of numbers. "That´s where they went." Anne had stared at the paper in despair. What the fuck? Like Omar had instructed her so many years ago, she had counted to ten while breathing slowly to calm herself. It worked. She recovered enough presence of mind to ask the man for a map. Anne had only a very rudimentary knowledge about the use of coordinates, but she managed to narrow her options to an area in Surrey. Not enough. Not enough. And there it was again, the horrible feeling that had taken hold of her in the crypt. A deafening sound, like thunder. The air was pressed from her lungs and her body went cold. Almost as if… as if she was drowning. She let out a triumphant scream when her eyes fell on the symbol of a mill in the area she was looking at. That might explain the noise.
Her intuition had led her to the right place. Down the slope of the hill, she could see the dilapidated mill towering over a small river. She patted her horse. "Almost there, love." Up close, the mill looked even worse. Anne was just about to enter, when she heard a crash. A part of the floor had broken down and two men fell into the river just beneath it. A coarse-looking fellow was the first to regain his bearings. He lost no time and pushed the other man into the river to drown him. He was so busy killing his opponent that he didn´t mind his surroundings and only noticed Anne when she clubbed him over the head with a rock from behind. She tossed his body aside and pulled the second man to the surface. Omar coughed. "What…?" Water was his weakness. Underwater he couldn´t rely on his preternaturally strong senses. He had never learnt to swim. "It´s okay, Omar." Omar swore profusely. The way he carried himself, the tension in his jaws… The warrior was back. Anne hadn´t seen this side of Omar in a long time. He had tried to suppress it for years. "It´s okay." she repeated and pulled him into a tight hug. After a couple of moments, his breath slowed down again and he was able to speak. "Annie. How did you find us?" "Later." Anne took Omar´s hand and led him out of the water. He had calmed down, but wasn´t quite himself yet. His opponent was still unconscious. The door of the mill opened and a man staggered out. Mr. Newton. "Mr. Khaled! Miss McGregor? What…? How…?" Newton looked even more unhinged than Omar. His eyes were open unnaturally wide and there was a mad glimmer in them. "It is the duty of a good housekeeper to watch over her employer." Anne explained with a forced calm. Newton stared at her. Her hair was in disarray from the ride, her dress was wet and dirty. There was a wildness in her expression he had never seen in a woman´s face before. Newton burst out laughing. "Capital. Good God, Miss McGregor. I believe, a pay rise might be in order."
They took the attacker back to London for questioning. James Blanchard had been among the men Newton had investigated for counterfeiting. Of course, Newton wanted to press on, but the excitement of the last days had been too much. He collapsed. Still, Omar practically had to drag him home and into bed. The doctor claimed that Newton was more than tired. This was a symptom of a deep sadness. According to Finnegan, Newton had been fighting that darkness ever since his experiments in alchemy failed and his old associate had left him.
"I can assure you, I am perfectly well!" Newton protested for the 100st time. He was safely tucked away in bed, but insisted on planning his next steps with Omar. Anne joined them under the pretext of bringing them tea. When she handed Newton his cup, she could see the corners of Omar´s mouth twitching. He suspected correctly that she had laced the tea with a couple of herbs to calm Newton down. "I must say, you are one hell of a housekeeper." "She is one hell of a woman." Omar murmured. He had changed into a dry set of clothes and was sitting in an armchair by Newton´s bed. He looked like his poised, quiet self again but Anne knew him better. He was battling his demons. Newton saw the look she gave Omar but interpreted it differently. "I believe I am not completely off when I suspect that the two of you are acquainted." "We are." Omar left it at that. "But now you really need to sleep. We can discuss the matter tomorrow." Newton looked at him as if he had lost his mind. "Sleep? I can´t. I am too… exhilarated." Omar shook his head and wanted to protest, but Anne laid a hand on his arm. She pulled up a second chair and set down next to her employer´s bed. "I might have something for that." In truth, she just needed to stall a bit until her concoction worked. If she managed to calm him down sufficiently, he would not even suspect that she had given him more than tea.
Pósa ástra íne stón uranó, margaritarénia mú.
Ké lábun éna éna, ké lábun éna éna.
Tóses forés tá mátia mú, margaritarénia mú.
Dakrísane yaséna, dakrísane yaséna.
Áide kalé mána agápame kieména,
Kúni kalé mána tó pedí yaména.
The lullaby worked. Newton laid his head on his pillow and pulled his blanket up. When the song was over, he seemed almost peaceful. "What language is that? Greek?" "Yes." Anne drew the curtains close, so she could turn her back to the men. "I learnt it from a girl in the harem of the Sultan." Newton didn´t answer. The tea finally kicked in. Omar and Anne left him to his slumber and relocated into the cozy drawing room. They put a few logs into the fire, drew the chairs closer to the chimney place and enjoyed the peace of the night. "What happened to her?" Omar asked after a while. "The harem girl?" "She escaped, returned to her village and lived happily ever after with her childhood sweetheart." Anne´s voice trailed off. Omar said nothing. He knew that there was more to the story. "I helped her escape and on my way to England, I brought her back to her village. But… I don´t know what became of her. You should have seen the way her family looked at her. Here she was, back home safe and sound after years of slavery, and they looked at her is if she had whored her way through the Ottoman empire for her own amusement. I hope she finds the life she has been yearning for. A husband, children and a little farm. But… I don´t know." The sadness in her voice was plain to Omar. He took her hand in his. "How did you find us today? Your magic?" Anne smiled. "Partly magic, partly logic. I felt that you were in danger and tracked you down. Fortunately, Newton is as subtle as a cannon. Wasn´t hard." Omar chuckled softly. "He is quite a character, Mr. Newton. But…" He became serious again. "Why could you sense the danger I was in? I can remember you being quite attuned to death, if the person was in proximity. How could you sense me over such a distance?" Anne shrugged. Omar´s questions were becoming a bit too precise for her liking. "I am not sure. I have a theory, though. You are close to me, no matter the distance. Maybe that´s how it works." Omar took her hand again, but instead of pressing it briefly he led it to his lips and kissed it. "I am glad to have you back." "I am glad to be back." Anne answered softly. Her heart raced as she remembered Rose´s question. You love him, don´t you? She had her answer.
Anne tossed and turned in her narrow bed, but sleep evaded her. Too much had happened today. Rose, Omar… She didn´t know what to make of it yet. Rose loved him too, that much was clear. There was no mistaking the look in her eyes whenever he was near. Omar´s feelings were the greater mystery. Something had changed between them since her return from Istanbul. The easy playfulness of their sibling-like relationship had turned into something else. The thought of his lips on her hand sent a shiver down her spine. He had never done that before. She could hear the bell toll five in the morning. It was no use. She needed air and an open ear. Father James would be up soon. Anne decided to dress in her man´s clothes. This early in the morning, the only women out and about were prostitutes and beggars, and she´d rather not be taken as either. On her way out, she startled the young scullery maid nearly to death. "Beg your pardon, Miss McGregor." Mary stammered. Anne gave her a reassuring smile. "Sorry, lass. I didn´t mean to scare you." Without noticing it, her Scottish accent had become more pronounced. Something about the twelve-year old girl reminded her about her family back in Edinburgh. She hadn´t been back once after the Brotherhood had recruited her. "You´re a good girl." Mary beamed at the compliment and hurried back to her duties. Anne´s eyes followed her. She would rise up to become a proper maid, maybe the cook would take her on as an apprentice. However, she would never be more. Not without a helping hand. The Brotherhood was so busy thwarting Templar plots and looking for the sacred objects that they tended to overlook those who would benefit from their assistance. Anne made a metal note to talk to Lowndes about that. She walked the brief distance to the church in a brisk pace. The early morning gave London a peculiar charm. It was almost quiet – well, apart from the drunkards vomiting in the soon as Anne reached the church, she could feel that something was off.
Note: The lullaby is part of the soundtrack of a Turkish soap opera about the Ottoman empire: watch?v=9FN93DrIvIQ I plan to dig into Annie´s adventures in Istanbul in another story