The Fortress and the Mind

I sat in the parlour of Caisteal Inbhir Lòchaidh watching the flames dance in the grate. My senses had become accustomed to the earthy scent of burning peat and found it pleasant and comforting. My mind was active- ruminating, examining, eliminating.

"A penny for your thoughts."

I was jolted back to the here and now by Valkyrie bringing tea and crumpets. I sighed. "I believe- no, I'm absolutely certain, I know who my would-be assassin is."

Valkyrie stopped pouring, her focus entirely on me. "Who?"

"Lord Robert Ashworth."

Valkyrie, her brow furrowed and her breath caught. She stood and walked to the window, her arms folded about herself as if in self-protection.

"Valkyrie?"

She turned, and tears were in her eyes. "Robert Ashworth, or rather, one of his surveyors, caused my parent's death and that of several crofters."

To say I was shocked at this revelation would be a gross understatement. "How?"

"It was not deliberate, but the man unknowingly was carrying typhoid fever. The crofters had extended their hospitality to Ashworth and his surveyors and through the sharing of food and drink passed it on to them. As soon as his symptoms appeared, my father ordered the complete locking down of the village, no one in, no one out. They immediately went to the affected homes and personally cared for the sick. Those who died were the surveyor, two fathers, a mother, three children... and my parents. During that time the crofters kept a vigil, providing necessary food, drink and whatever means of medication could be had. I could only stand, at this very window, with the wee bairn in my arms, and look down into the village."

I had no words to offer that would say what I felt. I checked my impulse to take the poor girl into my arms, as a father might a daughter, to offer comfort.

She dabbed her eyes with her handkerchief before re-joining me. She continued. "I was nineteen and had to take the mantle of Laird of Lochaber, but my parents were keen that I should continue my education. My father had secured a place for me in Oxford, and I determined that I would do as they wished. I could have left James with Seonaid, but I wanted him to have a family, and so I placed him with the crofters."

I tried to lift her melancholy. "You did the right thing. Family, friends, stewardship- perfect for a Laird-in-waiting."

She smiled. "Great minds think alike, Thaddeus. Would you like to meet James?"

This offer of allowing me into her inner circle was more than I could have asked. "I would be honoured."

At this, we resumed our planning.

"As Ashworth himself provided the substantial bill for the Magma-scope, it'd be very fitting to turn his own money against him," she said, and I smiled at this; Valkyrie was back.

"And I was his protégé, his stooge, he used me and I followed. All the information he acquired was from my hand."

"But you couldn't have known this would happen, and it wouldn't have except for the skeleton."

"I admit I was sceptical at first, but the proof was undeniable and it was the only right thing to do. The truth had to be made public knowledge." I finished pouring the tea and handed her a cup.

"Thank you."

"So, we know who he is," I stated, the name leaving a metallic taste in my mouth, "and we know his weakness: arrogance. But how do we prove it? The bite is circumstantial." 

Valkyrie rose and crossed to the map of the Highlands laid out on the table, her figure silhouetted against the approaching dark of evening. "You are correct. The law does not believe in our moral certainty, Thaddeus. Ashworth could buy a dozen witnesses to swear he was in his London club at the hour of the attack." 

"And the bite mark?" I asked, tracing the rim of my empty teacup. "A dog? A child? A fall?" 

Valkyrie shook her head. "He is an Earl. The wound I left is severe, non-disclosable, and clearly sustained in a violent struggle- it would cause to many questions, to much interest. There would be a scandal that would finally destroy his public reputation beyond all financial ruin. He cannot risk a physician who would report it, or a valet who would gossip." 

"So he treats it himself," I concluded. "In secret. He is in hiding." 

Valkyrie nodded, a faint, grim smile touching her lips. "I initiated discreet inquiries through my family's solicitor, Thaddeus. Not about the attack, but about Ashworth's social itinerary. A man who held Royal Favours and attended every major peerage function has been absolutely, inexplicably absent from public life since the day after we reached Paris." 

I felt the last knot of doubt unwind. 

"The wound itself is a question mark, but the complete, enforced silence of Lord Ashworth... the Earl of Ashworth." I spat his name. "Is the answer- his shame is his proof." 

"Precisely," she said, tapping the map firmly where Caisteal Inbhir Lòchaidh stood. "We cannot bring him down with the law; he would use his title to bury us in legal manoeuvres and then successfully murder us in the ensuing chaos. We have only one advantage left: time, and the certainty that his arrogance dictates his plan. He has been humiliated, and he will use the next few weeks to craft a perfectly brilliant, over-engineered attack. We must use our time to build a defence that is simple, sure, and entirely prepared for his fatal flaw." She looked at me, her eyes commanding. "The law will not save us but our minds, and this fortress, will. The fortress is stone, but our mind, Thaddeus, is brass," Valkyrie said, "The Difference Engine was designed to predict astronomical movement; now, we must teach it to predict malevolent human action."

I nodded, the chilling challenge igniting the engineer in me. "Its complexity, its meticulous nature- it is the perfect antithesis to Ashworth's own brilliant, yet predictable, mind. It will find his pattern."

"The surveillance data is already flowing from Ben Nevis, courtesy of the Magma-scope," Valkyrie continued, walking to the fire and stirring the glowing peat. "Ashworth used his money to give us the ears of the earth; we will now use that gift to anticipate his footsteps."

"It requires extensive re-programming," I mused, the technical challenge settling comfortably into my thoughts. "It will no longer calculate. It must listen, analyse, and warn."

go to Chapter 4- The Sentinel's New Purpose