Fox Chase



  Foxchase

  Jeff Young

  Copyright 2011 Jeff Young

  Kassandra looked up from the body in front of her at the man who’d just stepped into the small clearing. He tipped his head to one side, right hand coming to rest on the butt of the pistol holstered on his hip.

  “Well,” he remarked as he considered the scene before him.

  Standing up and straightening her riding skirt, Kassandra reached for the crop she’d tucked into her boot after dismounting. If he made a move for the gun, she’d only have one chance. Her horse nickered softly and minced a few steps back from her and the intruder. In the fading light, Kassandra recognized the other as one of the men from the fox hunting party. He’d kept to himself and due to the single-mindedness of her pursuit of Emond Ressex’s attention; she’d not chanced any meeting. While accoutered in the traditional reds of the hunt and wearing a riding hat, he did not quite fit in with the others. In his single word exclamation she’d caught enough of an accent to identify him as German. She felt a brief jot of fear at being alone with a stranger that was swiftly overwhelmed by fascination with the dead man before her. After all if folk didn’t have the misfortune to die, she wouldn’t have much of a business.

  Dropping his hand from the pistol, he reached up and pulled off his hat and gave her a brief bow, “Manfred Bremstrung at your service, Madam.”

  “Don’t feel out of sorts about your greeting Master Bremstrung, I’m not certain there is a proper way to meet over a corpse.” Kassandra offered her hand, “Madam Kassandra Leyden.” She couldn’t help but notice that his eyes did a cursory search of her small fingers as he clasped them. “No, I didn’t kill him,” she said taking her hand back.

  “Well if you had managed it, I would say you were quite skilled, given the severing of the jugular and the spray of blood about the laurels here. Also down here I can see a series of slashes on the fellow’s jodhpurs where he was hamstrung. Interestingly, the neck wound seems to be a series of cuts rather than a single blow.” Bremstrung dropped to a knee away from the blood.

  Kassandra leaned closer, pulling her ringlets of red hair back from her face, “Almost looks like a bite, since there are two series of cuts above and below.”

  “Indeed Madam, well spotted, but what sort of beast might do this?”

  A low moan came from the far side of the clearing. Pulling his pistol, Bremstrung moved from the light into the shadows and crept toward the sound. Pushing aside laurel branches, he gave a gasp and tossing aside his weapon, reached into the bushes to pull forth another fox hunter dressed in red and white- but in this case there was red staining his white jodhpurs and boot as well.

  Kassandra immediately recognized his face despite its pallor and she stepped over the dead man to aid Bremstrung. What had attacked Roderic, the nephew of His Majesty King Edward XXIII and the hunter, she wondered as she tore the bottom from her petticoat and offered the material to Bremstrung.

  He accepted it and whistled a shrill note calling his horse into the clearing. The well trained roan, trailing its reins, walked up to them. Bremstrung pulled down the canteen that hung from the back of his saddle offering it to Roderic. After the young man choked down a few mouthfuls, Bremstrung used the remainder to clean off the wound on the front of Roderic’s shin and then using Kassandra’s contribution bandaged it up.

  Roderic’s eyes flickered open showing just whites, “F-f-fox, bloody shining fox,” he murmured. Then he slid forward to become a limp burden in Bremstrung’s arms.

  Kassandra brushed back Roderic’s hair from his forehead revealing the reddish swelling there, “Well that explains that. Must have hit his head when he was pitched from his horse.” Something caught her eye and she reached down to Roderic’s boot to pick up a shiny piece of fur. It was unlike anything that she’d ever seen and even though it was shaped just like animal hair, she could swear that it was made of copper. Handing it to Bremstrung, she stated, “I can’t explain this however.”

  Giving it a cursory glance, Bremstrung shook his head, “Does not matter. Our priority has to be getting Roderic to safety.” Turning his gaze to her, he met her eyes, “In case you have not guessed, I am here to watch over Roderic.”

  “Makes sense, a German would be someone I wouldn’t immediately suspect. I suppose the unfortunate fellow who’s lying behind us was Roderic’s public guard? I imagined that you were a little more from your actions as well as your horse. It’s a well trained animal that doesn’t spook at the smell of blood and responds to signals like that.”

  “Well Madam Kassandra you are not exactly ordinary yourself having a history of helping out the constabulary using metaphysical means that most would scoff at. You see I have read the Directorate’s files on all of the participants here. But enough of that, we were making for Foxchase hunting lodge when all of this misfortune started.” Bremstrung spared a brief glance at the darkening sky overhead, “We have hardly any light left. Best we were off.”

  Bremstrung turned to settle Roderic onto the saddle of his horse, avoiding his rifle in its side holster. Wondering at the strange arrangement of lenses fitted to the top of the weapon, Kassandra took the moment to retrieve the unusual piece of fur and place it in the front pocket of her riding vest. She caught her horse’s reins and led the mare to join Bremstrung. There was a hint of burning wood, which caught her attention as the moon crested the treetops alleviating some of the darkness. “Smells like smoke in this direction,” she said pointing at a small game path.

  “Wunderbahr,” replied Bremstrung as he swung up into the saddle behind Roderic, one hand on the reins the other steadying his charge. “It is good we have your nose. My poor sense of smell could never have solved that mystery.”

  “What about this one though, Master Bremstrung, where are these men’s horses?”

  “Run off perhaps.”

  “Mayhaps, hopefully just that.”

  Bremstrung turned to her before starting down the path, “You think someone attacked them and then took the horses? You are more suspicious than I am.”

  “Let’s just say that my job communicating with the dearly departed makes me tend to closely regard the unusual. But you are right, no matter what the situation; we are better off at the lodge. What was Roderic’s guard’s name?”

  “Walter Pelton.”

  Looking back at the body, she whispered, “Sleep now Walter. You did not fail. Your charge is well.” She wished she had her equipment with her. A few words with the former Walter would clear everything up. After all, as a medium, she could accomplish such things. Something in the woods caught her eye. A flicker of reflected moonlight shone on a form amongst the trees. A long white tipped tail snapped above the ghostly beast’s spine as every hair on its sleek body shimmered. Kassandra’s second sight was also drawn to the otherworldly creature and for an instant she could swear she saw the heads of three dogs wavering above it like a spectral Cerberus. In another instant it was gone. Considering Bremstrung’s reaction to the fur she’d found, she brushed aside the thought of sharing her observation and urged her mare onward after him.

  A short while later they emerged from the woods into the light streaming from the windows of Foxchase lodge. As she dismounted to help Bremstrung with Roderic, Kassandra couldn’t help but notice the number of horses tied to the railing. She shared a raised eyebrow with Bremstrung who had come to the same conclusion. Someone had returned the missing horses to the lodge. If Roderic had an attacker, they were inside the lodge.

  She wondered briefly at why the horses were along the rail, until she glanced at the nearby stable. The moonlight shone into the open door enough to reveal the brass-worked body of a steam lorry, which was of course the reason she had
n’t been able to meet Emond Ressex. Pulling Roderic’s arm over her shoulder, she considered how things had gone awry.

  Kassandra’s father was more than pleased to arrange her attendance at the hunt in the hopes that some young noble would sweep her off her feet and take her away from her mistaken choices in life. She on the other hand had engineered the entire occurrence to meet Ressex who was one of the few spiritualists who achieved public acceptance as well as Royal approval as well as an adept artificer. That was all well and fine until Ressex and his assistant Saul had arrived in his motorized vehicle. Magistrate Cornwell had made them go on ahead in order to allow his party a peaceful ride. Fuming, Kassandra had stayed to the back of the group of riders and in so doing ended up discovering