Chapter XI: Mistakes Were Made

 

Lady Alonhall smiled nervously. “Well, I didn’t expect you’d be so forward. You want to start or should I?”

I looked up into her eyes. Then down at her thin, dry lips. Then I looked aside, as if I was trying to ask the wall for answers. Then I reeled back and punched Lady Alonhall in the chest.

“Aaagh!” whimpered Lady Alonhall, doubling over. “You punched me in the tit!”

“Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing, Joyce! You’re trying to seduce me, Lady Halflance told me all about it!” I said, thrusting an accusatory finger at her face.

“Why did you punch me in the tit?” she said, rubbing where I had just punched her.

“Because, you were trying to get into my pants, so you could do me and then discard me like all of the others. What, did you think I wasn’t paying attention when Maria showed up? I knew what you were doing, you were trying to use your wiles on me!”

“A lady…” Lady Alonhall stopped to wince, “does not punch another lady in the tit!” 

“I’m not a lady!” I shouted.  “I am…” I wanted to say ‘I am a man’, which is something I’d always wanted to say immediately after punching someone in the torso. But it wouldn’t come out. It just didn’t seem like the right thing to say, and I couldn’t figure out why. “I am a homeless mental case!”

“Very well, then. Now Emma, have you ever heard of something called ‘flirting’? Seriously, ‘using my wiles on you’; you sound like my mothers,” said Lady Alonhall, rolling her eyes.

“It’s more than that. You’ve been trying to turn me on all night, and you know it.” I stepped back, crossing my arms.

“So what if I was? I’m just trying to make this evening more fun for the both of us. And that’s certainly no excuse for violence,” said Lady Alonhall.

“I saw that conversation between you and Maria.” I lowered my voice to a harsh whisper. “I don’t know what you’ve done to her, but the way she reacted wasn’t normal. She gave up way too easily, like you had some kind of leverage on her.”

“How dare you make such implications! I would never harm any of my partners; it is part of my code of honor as a gentlewoman. I have risked disgrace, and duels, and the wrath of the law, rather than betray those that I have found worthy of my love and attention.  You, on the other hand, have trampled all over my hospitality by punching me in the tit.” Lady Alonhall was nearly snarling with anger by the end of her monologue, and for several seconds we stared at each other. Her chest was heaving, like she had been drained.

“I don’t know what your deal is, and I don’t know who to believe,” I said. I shook my head, trying to clear it. I failed. “But maybe you’re telling the truth. What’s definitely the case is that I’m not going to fuck you, is that clear?”

Lady Alonhall looked towards the door. “Extraordinarily so.”

“So, uhhhh… what room did I just lock us in?”

Lady Alonhall glanced around. “I’m not quite sure myself.”

It looked like some sort of abandoned workshop, similar to Amina’s laboratory except with a more mechanical bent. Two of the walls were covered in chalkboards, on which were drawn clusters of diagrams and equations that I didn’t recognize. In one corner, covered in dust, was what I could recognize as a small analytical engine, a stack of gears and rods and switches and wires inside a brass cage the size of a refrigerator. Most of the rest of the room was similarly dusty, like it hadn’t been used for a few weeks at least. I couldn’t recognize much of the equipment, a raven’s nest of wires and gears and gyroscopes scattered across the room’s various benches and counters. What I could recognize, just barely, were the chalk writings on the wall.

I had been continuing to study Archopolid language ever since the initial attack, with the appearance of the Mechanodrones and my visit at the workshop where it was being repaired had done nothing to dissuade me. The variables and equations scrawled onto the blackboard were alien to anything from earth, and yet eerily familiar. I withdrew the slim notebook from my coat pocket, and started comparing what was written in front of me to what I had figured out on my own.

“Where did you get that notebook from? And why did you bring it to our date?” said Lady Alonhall, sounding offended.

“You have your ridiculous oversized pocket watch, I have my notebook,” I said, not looking at her. She snorted at me.

I flipped frantically from one page to the next, scanning through my handwriting to find what I was looking for. Then I found it, circled three times in pencil with a big note saying “IMPORTANT” next to it. I looked up to check the blackboard, then back down to my notes. They were identical. It was a targeting subroutine, the one that I had found in the tapes for the Archopolid that had tried to kill me. Nobody else in the world programmed like this, and yet here it was written on a blackboard in a back room of the famous programmer Lady Lorraine Leyrender. I had to take a step back and rest against one of the countertops. Had I just been invited to the workshop of a woman who wanted me dead? It made the most sense.

“Joyce, you remember the Archopolid attack on that ball, don’t you?” I said, still trying to absorb as much of the blackboard’s contents as I could.

“Emma darling, I was there. I would not forget you saving my life.”

“Okay then, I think I may have figured out who was responsible for that,” I said. “You seem to know a lot about goings on in this city, who hates who and all that. Would Lady Leyrender have any reason to want Lady Halflance dead?”

“I suppose so, if Lady Leyrender were mad enough to have essentially no sense of forgiveness and an absolute desire to protect her own image at all costs.” Lady Alonhall cradled her chin in her hand.

“Okay, what was it? I think I have pretty strong evidence that she did do it. This blackboard here has a bunch of text that perfectly matches the language used in that Archopolid that attacked us,” I said, tracing out the code in my notebook, letter by letter to be sure. 

Lady Alonhall pulled out her pocket watch again and began to idly mess around with it, stroking the dial once again. “I think it was about a year ago, maybe a year and a half. Lady Halflance pointed out a critical flaw in one of Lady Leyrender’s designs; I believe it was a new steam engine. It turned out that if shut down too quickly, the engine would be unable to take the compression stress and would burst. This revelation cost Leyrender a truly enormous government contract, valued in the tens of thousands of dinars.”

I shrugged. “Yeah, if I know anything about the upper class, that would do it.” My gaze started wandering, seeking out more evidence. After a few seconds, my eyes caught on a section of workbench that was covered with a white cloth. Lady Leyrender wanted something hidden, the thought of which suddenly scared me. I stepped over, apprehensive even though I logically knew that there was nothing to fear. I reached out with one hand, as if I was being forced to, the rest of my body pressed back as far as I could. Then I whipped the cloth off, revealing what looked like a metal box full of gears and scrap.

It took me a few seconds to figure out what it was. If I hadn’t seen it before, I wouldn’t have been able to tell, not being a machinist and all that. It was a gun, a Tiffany Mark 2 machine rifle, the exact make and model used in the attack on the ballroom. It made sense, I supposed. Lady Leyrender was an influential engineer and scientist; it would make sense that she was one of the privileged few to get her hands on the newest killing marvel. A killing marvel which she then used to try to kill me, the person feeding me, and everyone else in a crowded ballroom. The sadistic bitch.

“A Tiffany Mark 2? I had no idea Lady Leyrender had…” said Lady Alonhall, leaning forwards to get a good look at it. She trailed off sheepishly, like she had just let something slip.

“I mean, this settles it. You know that one of these was the gun mounted onto the Archopolid that tried to kill you? This, combined with the thing on the blackboard and the stuff you told me about, means that it has to have been Lady Leyrender, right?” 

Lady Alonhall looked off to one side, considering. “I suppose so. But what are you going to do about it?”

“Well, she’s going to be out here for the exhibition, or demonstration, or whatever it was. We have to confront her about this before she can escape, or even strike again, and preferably do so in front of enough witnesses that she can’t try anything. So we should confront her now!” 

“Are you insane?” said Lady Alonhall, taking a step back. “You cannot just go up to someone who may have tried to murder you repeatedly, and accuse them of trying to murder you repeatedly!”

“Why not? I have evidence, don’t I? It’s not like she’s going to try to kill me in front of all of these witnesses. This evidence is ironclad; we have to take advantage of it.” I, again, cannot defend my previous statements. 

Before Lady Alonhall could do anything to stop me, I dashed past her and back out into the open hallway that we had come in from. I’m a bit ashamed to say that I then had to spend several minutes running around trying to find my way back to the main exposition floor, but that’s honestly far from the worst thing I did that day. Eventually, I found myself back where I had started. The demonstration was about to begin.

The demonstration itself was going to take place in an open area, surrounded by a circle of dinner tables. Two maids were setting up some kind of analytical engine, an enormous machine the size of a car, similar in appearance to the others I had seen. What made this new engine different or more exciting than the older models, I had no idea. And I certainly wasn’t going to stay around long enough to find out.

Standing in front of the machine, looking out serenely over the assembled crowd, was a woman who I had to assume was Lady Leyrender. She was a young-looking woman, with long brown hair tied up in an elaborate series of knots piled on her head and reddish-coppery skin. She had a stern face, with a thin nose and deeply-set brown eyes. She was a skinny woman as well, going by her dress, long and white and flowing all the way down to her ankles. She didn’t look like a murderous villain, but then again murderous villains rarely do.

“Are you Lady Leyrender?” I said, trying to sound as confident as possible. For someone with a voice as high-pitched as mine, it almost worked. Lady Leyrender turned to me and nodded warily.

“Well then, perhaps I should call you… Nemesis? You see, I took a brief walk through some of the back hallways of this very workshop, and I found some things that you don’t want people to see.” I turned to the audience, who at this point was starting to look a little confused. I was certain that I would be able to clear it up for them.

“Some of you,” I said, turning, “have probably heard of the series of attacks on Lady Sarah Halflance. The first of these attacks used a reprogrammed Archopolid, mounted with a machine rifle named the Tiffany Mark 2, a gun currently in the prototype stage. There are very few people who have access to this rifle, and they would have had to have access to it, in order to place it on the. giant metal spider which tried to kill me. Which of course makes it very, very interesting that I found one of those very prototypes in one of Lady Leyrender’s back rooms!”

I paused to survey the room. People seemed to be talking, mumbling to each other just quiet enough that I couldn’t hear what they were saying. Lady Leyrender looked shocked, dumbfounded even, at the power of my accusations. She looked to either side to make sure that she was hearing correctly, completely speechless.

“Now obviously there might be more than one scientist who has been given the Tiffany Mark 2 in this city, but that’s not it. I also found some of your notes, Nemesis, including the very language you used to teach the Archopolid how to detect people to shoot at! I’ve talked to several skilled programmers about this, and all of them said that the way that code is written is completely unique to you!” I said, pointing dramatically at Lady Leyrender.

By this point a growing commotion was taking over the room, as people began outright shouting and arguing over my accusation. Lady Leyrender, still in absolute shock, began motioning for calm. I had her cornered, I knew it. Now to simply wait for her to panic, and I would be victorious.

“Now then, what do have to say for…” I began to say. Then I stopped, confused. Lady Leyrender wasn’t saying anything, but she was gesturing rapidly, at something. I couldn’t understand what she was doing… until I could. She was speaking in sign language. Lady Leyrender was mute! Which meant that she couldn’t have been Nemesis. 

It was like the floor dropped out from under me, sending me on a one-way trip to a pit a mile deep. A pit full of sharks, with head-mounted shame beams that made you feel bad right before they ate you. I stumbled back a step, blinking in surprise. I had been riding an adrenaline high for basically the entire accusation, but that came crashing down in an instant, to be replaced by a deep and fundamental sense of regret. How could I have been so stupid, rushing in like that. I was an idiot, and now I had to find a way out of this mess.

“Now of course this doesn’t… necessarily mean that Lady Leyrender is Nemesis,” I said, stuttering and stumbling over my own tongue. “There are alternate possibilities, and we should definitely investigate them more thoroughly.” By this point it didn’t really matter what I said, because the whole room had been overwhelmed with noise and chaos, drowning out my quiet, stumbling speech. Lady Leyrender looked confused and hurt, signing at someone off to my left, in the audience. Then that person made herself known.

A strong arm grabbed me by the shoulder, whirling me around. I ended up face-to-face (or more like face-to-chest given the height difference) with an enormous woman. She looked military, with a practical short haircut, and a couple of noticeable white scar lines across her tanned skin. She was broad, with a bit of a noticeable stomach that certainly did not subtract from the suggestion of strength she made. It felt like my shoulder was in a vice, and her icy blue eyes were slowly drilling holes in my forehead. Also very noticeable was the saber, hanging in a black leather sheath at her hip.

“I’m sorry, what were you saying?” she said, voice a complete monotone.

“I was just, I was…” 

“Actually, no need to answer, I heard exactly what you said. You accused my wife of being a murderer. That’s a hell of an accusation coming from pond scum dredged up by the Halflances, of all people.” Even though the second Leyrender refused to raise her voice, I could hear the anger boiling over.

“No, I—“ I stammered, trying to break free from her grip.

“You’ve disgraced my wife in front of everyone,” she said, shoving me away from her. She drew her sword, pointing it dead center of my torso. “I would like to make an announcement! I, Lady Regan Leyrender, hereby challenge this girl, Emma Farrier, to a duel for the honor of my wife, to be fought on open field in one week’s time.”

Well fuck me, then, I guess I’m going to be fighting a duel. Given that I had never held a sword until two weeks ago, I couldn’t imagine it going well. In fact, I could imagine it going as poorly as possible, and with myself ending up as a rotten stab-filled corpse. I was going to die, and it terrified me more than I can put into words. I broke out into a sweat, and my limbs became weak as my breath ran out of control. I stumbled backwards, and then collapsed into one of the tables, tears welling up in my eyes.

Just then another hand took hold of mine, pulling me to my feet and jerking me out of my own head. The thoughts of death and decay were, for a moment, banished to the corners of my mind. I looked up to see Lady Alonhall holding onto me. 

“Well, that’s certainly one way to go about it,” she said. “But perhaps not the most effective one.” Lady Alonhall had a firm grip, and led me out of the crowd towards the exit. I was still a bit stunned, but managed to get out a weak response.

“Thank you. I don’t know how I would have gotten out of that.”

“I told you, I protect my lovers, even if they may not reciprocate. I’ve summoned Synthia; the steam carriage will be here soon.” I didn’t bother to ask how she had summoned Synthia, though I probably should have. I was too busy feeling the warmth rush into my cheeks after she had just admitted that she considered me a lover. I was almost afraid to turn her down, until I remembered the argument from earlier.

Lady Alonhall and I left the party in a far greater state of disarray then when we had entered it, though it didn’t seem to have put a dent in her style. Out of instinct I clung onto her, for entirely pragmatic reasons of safety. Sure enough, the steam carriage arrived just a minute later, with Synthia driving. The carriage ride back to the Halflance estate was spent mostly in silence and shock. What the hell had I done. What the hell had I done?! I had gotten myself stuck in a duel, a sword duel, because I had been so completely stupid that I wanted to run up and accuse the person that I had wrongfully thought was Nemesis. What was I going to do? I couldn’t use a sword, I had barely ever used a sword. I had to face it; I was completely and totally fucked.

By the end of the carriage ride I had degenerated into just staring at my hands. My tiny, tiny hands. They were different from my old hands, more smooth and soft. I liked them. I was going to miss them after I got stabbed in the face by Lady Leyrender’s wife. Eventually the carriage came to a stop, and Synthia pulled me out. Lady Alonhall escorted me back inside, mostly because if she hadn’t taken me by the hand I would have stood in a fugue state until dawn. We were greeted by a servant, but Lady Alonhall asked to speak to Lady Halflance. 

The servant lead us up and through the winding passages, into a sitting room, where Lady Halflance was pacing about, flipping through a small book. Lady Alonhall broke her out of what I assume must have been deep thought, and the two of them discussed the night. I didn’t really listen to most of it. After the whole story had been relayed, Lady Halflance waved Joyce off. 

She looked me up and down, and for a moment I met her gaze. She didn’t look mad. She didn’t look like she was feeling anything at all. I tried to put on my most innocent expression, like I was convincing my mom not to ground me. To be fair, Lady Halflance was basically my mother by this point. She barely acknowledged the look. Then she turned around and collapsed back into her chair. There was a glass of wine on a small table at one arm of the chair, which she proceeded to grab and down the entire contents of.

“Do you have any idea what you have FUCKING DONE!” Lady Halflance screamed, leaping to her feet and hurling the wineglass into the wall.

“It made sense at the time…” I said, taking a step back.

“I have spent so many years, most of my life trying to build a reputation for myself, to make it known that I am a woman of responsibility. And now you’ve thrown it all away, gotten yourself in a duel with Regan FUCKING Leyrender!” Lady Halflance ran her hands through her hair over and over again.

“I’m…”

“Get out of my house,” she said. She was staring straight at me, eyes bulging out with rage.

“What? Why?” And then Lady Halflance slapped me, sending a white flash across my vision. I fell backwards, landing on my tailbone, catching my fall with my arms and leaving me lying on the floor, face stinging.

“GET OUT OF MY HOUSE!” roared Lady Halflance, murder in her eyes and lip curled into a sneer. Before I could even think of a reaction, Sir Margaret burst into the room.

“What is going on in here?” she said.

Lady Halflance turned to Sir Margaret, still enraged. “You little pet project here just accused Lady Leyrender of being our Nemesis, on the flimsiest of evidence.” Her voice was a singsong of false casualness, barely concealing boiling rage. “Got herself challenged to a duel in one week’s time with Regan Leyrender, of all people. She has brought shame onto this household, so now I am telling her to leave it.”

Sir Margaret rushed over, positioning herself between me and Lady Halflance. “I won’t let you do that. You would be signing her death warrant. Even if we kick her out, the duel will still be on, and she’ll either give in and die at Lady Leyrender’s sword, or else run away and get thrown in prison.”

“And what do I care if the brat goes to jail?” By this point I was back on my feet, mostly, and shaking with nerves. 

“Sarah,” Sir Margaret sighed. “I know you’ve never been in Amrinval Prison, but I have. I will never send anyone there, ever. I will pay to keep her safe myself, if I must.”

Lady Halflance’s expression evened out. For a moment, all was silent, as she looked down and to the side, away from her wife’s eyes. “I’m sorry, Margaret. She may stay.” The two of them looked into each other’s eyes, then came together and embraced. I started backing away, trying to return to my bedroom. Sir Margaret and Lady Halflance, still holding onto each other, whispered for a little while.

As I was beginning to back out, I ran into what felt like a wall. It was Miss Rook. “This had better be important. You woke me up,” she said, sounding sleepy. She was indeed wearing pajamas, or something similar, striped button-ups made out of loose fabric.

“Ahh, hello, Rook, nice to see you here. I have a question for you,” said Lady Halflance, breaking her hold on Sir Margaret and putting on her widest false grin.

“What is it, my Lady?”

“Suppose you had one week to train Emma in the art of the sword, training nonstop to the limit of her body’s endurance. Could you get her to the point where she could win in a duel against Regan Leyrender?”

Rook pursed her lips in thought looking down at her feet. The tension in the air was dense. “No,” she finally said. My heart sank. I was going to die after all. But then Rook took a deep breath, and continued. “But if she is willing, and able, and pushes herself, then with a bit of luck I can get her to survive a duel with Regan Leyrender.”

Lady Halflance clapped her hands together. “Very well, then. Cancel her lessons with Aisha, those clearly haven’t worked. From now on, Emma is a soldier, entirely under Rook’s command.” She then turned to me. “You will train until your bones snap and your heart ruptures, and maybe you’ll make it out of this a free woman.”

“I guess I don’t have a choice in the matter, do I?” I said, rolling my eyes.

“No, you most certainly don’t,” said Lady Halflance, anger spilling through in her voice yet again. “Now then, that’s quite enough stress for one evening. Who’s ready for bed?”

Author's Note: Hey everyone, I'm just here to point out that, in case you haven't noticed, I have a regular update schedule again! I didn't want to come out and say it until I was sure, but for the foreseeable future I will be posting a new chapter every other Thursday. And again, thank you thank you thank you so much to everyone who's left a comment, a favorite, a rating, anything at all like that. I really appreciate going to the effort, and I really hope that as the book goes on, more people work up the courage to comment and all that stuff. That's all for now!