The Shadow on the Glass: A Cthulhu by Gaslight Novel by Jonathan L Howard

Author:Jonathan L Howard [Howard, Jonathan L]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Media Tie-In, Fantasy, Dark Fantasy, Gaslamp
ISBN: 9781839083006
Google: _tnpEAAAQBAJ
Amazon: B0CQKGH85S
Publisher: Aconyte
Published: 2024-07-01T14:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eleven

Great-Uncle Mathias

As councils of war went, it was unusually suburban, consisting of two men and two women gathered around a table in a house in Chiswick, with one prisoner tied up and locked away in the cellar. Upon the table stood a tea pot, but nobody had volunteered to be mother, and it was likely so badly stewed by this point as to be suitable only for the preparation of leather.

“It was always going to come down to this,” said Castle. “At some point we knew we’d have to fix bayonets and have at ‘em.”

“Bayonets…?” said Miss Trent.

“Mr Castle is speaking figuratively,” supplied Miss Church.

Castle gave her a look. “I wasn’t, as it happens. I’m perfectly serious. Sir Traitor-to-the-Entire-Human-Race there, out in Barking… what, you think he’s going to capitulate to some strong words and a wagging finger? No. If we can’t dash out his brains with a bullet, 12 inches of good Sheffield steel will do the job just as nicely.” He looked around the table and noted the lack of enthusiasm for this eventuality. “Fella on the Whitechapel Road,” he continued less assuredly, “I’ve seen him selling old bayonets off a cart, sixpence apiece or thereabouts.” Into the awkward silence that followed his revelation of such a bargain he repeated, a little petulantly, “It was always going to come down to this, and we all knew it.”

“Mr Castle is right,” said Grant heavily. “There’s no point trying to sugarcoat it. There must be violence and blood will be shed if we are to stop him.” He looked around the table. “In which case, the situation is hopeless. There are only four of us, and only two of us are men. Two against a small army of hired bullies.”

“If, Mr Grant,” said Miss Church in a lowering tone, “you are implying that I am somehow too feeble to use a gun, I would point–”

“There are lots more than just the four of us!” interrupted Castle brightly, forestalling the storm. “I mean, we’re a secret society. We can field a decent number if needs be, and I would think circumstances like this very much dictate that needs be. I mean, as I’ve said, when one considers the technicalities of it, we are a sort of cult, really. Although that does sound fearfully outré and a little foreign, doesn’t it? I mean, communing with strange eldritch entities from out of the aeons, and all?” He looked at Miss Trent, said “Hello!” and waved at her. She looked back at him perplexedly.

“So, how many men can you field?” said Grant.

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