XXXII

Toll the Hour

Lin knelt beside Doyle, a hand beneath his back to support him as she pressed against his wound. Wang tossed the second rapier to Roy and turned to Lin.

"For father."

"For father." She said and then watched as Wang and Roy made their dash from the hall and around the corner.

Doyle pushed himself to a sit and looked to Lin, who stared out. Her breaths were short, and he was soon concerned. "You look like you're the one hit with the bullet."

"Did he really shoot you?" She asked, unmoving her eyes from the corner they had all vanished around.

"Yes," He grunted, shifting to lean against a pillar. "And I have enough evidence against him to at least give him seven years of severe flogging if not the gallows…"

Lin's eyes turned downward. She looked to him, "Would you…reconsider if I told you something?"

Doyle fell silent. He looked to her with complete incomprehension. "Whatever for?"

"I… He did not kill my father."

He sat upright. "You said he did! You said it repeatedly in the Yard! You claimed witness!"

"I was wrong!" She lied, "It was Wu Chow."

Doyle was dumbstruck as the possibility sank in. He could not know the truth if Wang killed him…his eyes rounded, "You have to stop them, they could be making a terrible mistake!" He pushed her shoulder, "Go, go!"

She turned on her heel to make a dash for the corner where Roy and Wang had disappeared. She did not go any further than a step as a handful of royal guards stepped around, blocking her view with their wide-shouldered uniforms and rifles.

She stumbled in her sudden stop, hearing the trudging of more guards falling in behind her. She looked around...and soon realized there was no fighting off the number of men with guns.

"Arrest her," One said, waving for them to close in on her.
"Wait..." Doyle heaved, nudging himself higher against the pillar as he blinked hard against the blurring vision. "Up...Tower."

"You'll see a surgeon...and then you'll sit in a cell." The man said sternly.

"But th-the tower!" He protested weakly.

Lin's breaths were drawing shorter. She couldn't breathe...she needed to get up to that tower. The men were very close as they carefully inched closer to her. With a last hope, she looked to Doyle...who vanished behind a wall of uniforms.

Both her arms were forcefully grabbed. Stubbornly she attempted to hold her ground, but by the third tug, she succumbed and followed their lead outside...the wheels in her head turning as she looked between them. There had to be a way...

Rathbone tore his way up the stairwell of the belfry. Lin had not come, and Wang was hot on his tail. It told him one of two things had happened. Either Lin had given up on him or she was dead. He preferred to believe the first, but the latter of the two rang a pitching scream in his ears. It was Wang's fault. It was Roy's fault. And it was his fault.

Before he knew it he had traveled halfway up the belfry, driven on some mad amount of energy that was rushing hotly through him. The sound of footsteps stomping up from below drew his attention. Rathbone pressed to the edge of the railing, gripping the derringer as he found Roy and Wang climbing after him, armed with the decorative swords from the hall walls below.

The gun was aimed and fired, splintering the railing beside the men below, sending shards of wood into the air. He wasted no time as he turned to dash up the steps, hearing Roy call something after him, but his words were lost in the pounding in his ears, unable to tell the difference between the popping of the fireworks outside or the thundering of an alarmingly fast heartbeat.

With a last leap, he reached the last of the steps and came to the landing of the belfry - a catwalk framing Big Ben itself. Its hollowed body groaned and hummed in the echo of the fireworks that spilled through the milky glass on the levels overhead. Rathbone looked up, catching the colorful lights flicking and flashing through the inner face of the clock tower itself.

Up a short stairway, jumping every other step, he tucked himself beneath the next set of steps, just avoiding the light from the display outside. He pressed his back against the brick and iron framework and closed his eyes, hand upon the hilt of the sword. There was no charming his way out of this one… The only thing that could ruin the letter's intended purpose would be to kill of the very two who wished him dead. By Roy and Wang's deaths, Rathbone would be deprived of both freedom and her...

Behind closed eyes he saw Lin's face, confused and worried as she looked to him pleadingly, gagged and bound. He'd left her, entrusting strangers to do the heroic work as he continued to hide behind a lion's statue. Cowardice. Anger welled up inside as he thought of it all…Wang had already given Lin and Roy his blessing…and yet Roy had failed in saving her. Suddenly he was not so sure Roy was worth sparing.

Through the cracks and pops of firecrackers, he felt two more presences enter the clock tower. Peering down through the stairwell he watched the two men, armed, creep their way up the steps. He recalled the last time he wished for death, welcomed it so openly…Lin would could not kill an unarmed man. Focused on the one person he despised most of all, he slowly unsheathed the saber and pressed his back to the wall even more. Watching Roy move up the steps just a foot away, he waited for the right time to strike.

The American was wide-eyed as he inched his way up the steps.

"I don't think he's up here!" He called back to his friend and began to climb back down the steps. Wang called back, urging him to continue. Roy paused, teeth grit, muttering an oath. He pressed upward, coming to the second of the rafters. Like some man possessed, he watched Roy move past him, nearing one of the faces of the clock.

Rathbone stepped from the shadows, saber in hand as he debated running the man through with the cold blade…but it simply wasn't enough. In a last minute thought, he decided to enjoy this.

"ROY!" Wang called from below.

Roy turned, gasping when Rathbone closed in on him and dropped his sword. Rathbone's boot slammed into his chest, knocking him to the face of the clock where Roy smashed straight through the milky glass, breaking through the metal framework and vanished in a glitter of fireworks and glass-shards.

Rathbone smirked, "Whoops." His attention snapped back toward Wang, who was coming up the steps to avenge his friend. Tucking the toe of his boot beneath the blade of the fallen rapier, he launched it into the air to catch it with his left hand. His own demise had been secure…but he wanted one last fight. Just one.