Simon turned to the north transept where the king stared. Amidst the frantic mob being manhandled by the annoyed baroness, he noted the small shape of a desperate child nearly lost in the melee. No one paid the young girl any mind. Simon nodded sharply to the worried old man. “I’ll see to her, on my word. You must go quickly, sir, before the baroness can reach you.” Simon signaled toward the woman behind them. “Kate, take His Majesty, would you?”
The auburn-haired woman finished giving an archbishop a shove through the door, sending his high mitre flying, then she put two fingers to her lips and let loose a sharp whistle at the king. She jerked her head at the exit behind her and tossed back her elegant cloak to reveal a calf-length wool skirt and a linen blouse across which was draped a soldier’s bandolier. In place of ammunition, the leather slots held numerous glass vials. From her belt, she pulled a length of metal some two feet long with a curved grip at one end. With a flick of a finger on an unseen switch, two prongs unfolded from one end. It was a strange crossbow. She came toward the king, impatient that he was barely shuffling in her direction.
King William regarded her suspiciously until his eyes widened in recognition. “My word. Katherine Anstruther.” Then he started to turn away. “But I can’t leave that poor girl.”
Kate grabbed the king by the arm and yanked him to the exit. She spared only a brief glance at Simon before giving the king another more gentle shove out. “Simon Archer will fetch your niece. Now come on, a little faster would be better.”
With the king safe, Simon spun to the baroness, watching the stark white of her hair as she came closer through the mob. Finally the last of the stumbling nobility cleared and the strange woman with four arms stood facing Simon twenty yards away. Something moved beside her. One of her metal hands was clamped around the lacy wrist of the small girl Simon had been after.
Princess Victoria, the niece of the king and queen and the heir to the realm.
The baroness lifted the girl, who was barely eleven years old, off the ground like a fresh-bagged quail. “The king left something important behind. Now stand aside or I’ll kill her.”
Simon kept his sword raised but froze in his tracks.
“Run her through!” the young princess shouted, grasping the baroness’s goggles and wrenching them aside.
Simon gave only the barest thought to the bold attack of the little girl before he was on the baroness, the point of his sharp blade aimed at her heart. The half-mechanical woman flinched aside, sweeping up another arm to block the thrust. Gears and pistons in the arm clicked and a series of spinning blades ratcheted out along her forearm. Sparks flew and Simon leaned forward, forcing the deadly appendage back. Princess Victoria yelped in alarm and kicked at her captor, who finally tossed the troublesome princess aside. This freed all the baroness’s limbs to meet Simon.
He fell back now, ducking under her arm with the whirring blades. He instantly returned to the attack. Although he weaved his sword with masterful precision, Simon lamented that he couldn’t speak the power of aether into the blade. His skill allowed him to counter and riposte the swipes from the woman without fear if she had just the one weapon. However, all four of her arms struck at him. Simon almost smiled at the challenge as the steel fists came at him with incredible speed. He parried and ducked and whirled across the floor, trying to pull the baroness away from the winnowing crowd and the small girl, who came forward rather than retreating with the mob. The ring of steel meeting steel echoed through the church.
As he deflected one mechanical arm the bladed limb drove at him from the other side. Simon grabbed it and instinctively whispered a word of power. He was overwhelmed by her strength and the whirring blades surged inches from his face before he realized his idiocy. Only months ago he would have been able to fight back by summoning magic from the aether. With but a thought and a word, he would have had nearly limitless power at his command. No more.
His fingers curled tight and electrical current rippled over his knuckles, fed by a small power source inside his gauntlet. The heat inside the glove increased, but a shower of sparks brought the spinning blades to a whining halt. The baroness screamed as the current coursed along the length of her metal arm and surged into her body. That shock should have dropped a draft horse, but she still moved forward with a face contorted by pain and bloody fury. Her mechanical body was clearly insulated.
One steel arm clamped around Simon’s lower back and locked into place. Then he felt her walking stick pressed flat against his throat. She pressed down into him. He felt the merciless strength of the baroness driving into him, bending him over backward until he feared his spine would snap.
“Surrender!” Simon croaked with a ludicrous confidence he didn’t feel.