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He settled in, keeping his back to the wind as a shield and deployed his breaching gear. The device, to his own mind, was a marvel of miniaturized engineering: a resonance unit designed to generate rhythmic high-frequency vibrations that would loosen the old mortar. A fine aether of powerful chemicals was precisely injected to dissolve the centuries-old granite. The devise was complex, needing constant, minute adjustments. Ashworth leaned in closer now, listening intently against the keen wind, to the faint, high-pitched whirring and clicking of the gears- he exalted at the sound of his genius at work. No sensor known to the Laird would search this ancient, impossible route, he thought with arrogant assurance.
Deep below ground in the castle vault, the only sounds were the snap and crackle of the peat fire in the hearth and the steady, clicking and whirring of the Sentinel's meticulous calculations.
"Thermal is cold," Valkyrie murmured, her eyes fixed on the simple, cold green display of the Ben Nevis data. "His suit is working. He has suppressed his heat signature completely."
"But he cannot suppress his method," I countered, my voice low and steady as I monitored the acoustic inputs. "He thinks in complex rhythm. We wait for the sound of arrogance."
We watched, and waited, bathed in the sharp, electrical scent of ozone emitted by the massive machine's relays.
Suddenly, we started as a tiny, red indicator light flared into life on the Sentinel's console. The brass gears of the Difference Engine whirred faster, digesting the incoming acoustic data. The machine had isolated a signal imperceptible to human hearing: the precise, repetitive, low-frequency hum of Ashworth's mechanism.
The screen flashed a specific, urgent code: RHYTHM: NON-BIOLOGICAL REPETITION.
"There!" I breathed, pointing. "The sound of arrogance."
At the exact same instant, from the dark corridor leading to the upper castle, a sound of ancient warning cut through the mechanical noise. Mairi, the Deerhound, who had been resting near the entryway, raised her massive head. Her amber eyes fixed on the outside world, and she let loose a single, profound, resonant growl- a sound of primal warning that vibrated from her massive body through the stone floor and confirmed Valkyrie's own rising heartbeat.
Valkyrie secured her sturdy highland cudgel at her belt whilst I grabbed the heavy, oil-fuelled lantern.
"The Sentinel has found the mechanism," Valkyrie said, her eyes alight with fierce purpose. "Mairi has found the man."
Valkyrie led the way, moving with silent efficiency. I followed close behind, the lantern light swinging and casting dancing shadows on the walls. We reached the defensive alcove overlooking the Postern Gate.
Ashworth was fully focused on his work, kneeling with his back to us, entirely absorbed in his meticulous task. He heard nothing but the faint clicking of his own genius.
"ASHWORTH!" Valkyrie's voice cut through the keening wind like a drawn blade.
He froze, his shoulders tensing in shock. Slowly, he rose, turning to face us. His face, visible in the spill of my lamp, was gaunt and furious, shadowed by the pain of his injury and the humiliation of being caught.
"Professor Gerehardt!" he spat, his voice as malevolent as the bite mark on his hand. "And Wren, my traitorous protégé. You should be dead!"
"And you should have chosen a knife, Ashworth," I said, my voice ringing with a feeling of renewed authority. "Simpler, faster, surer. Instead you chose arrogance, and arrogance, when subjected to the logic of the Difference Engine, is perfectly predictable."
Ashworth's face was a mask of cold fury, but my simple words- "You chose arrogance, and arrogance is predictable"- had found their mark, striking deeper than any cudgel. Ashworth's meticulous world of order was crumbling, and his control snapped.
He lunged for a hidden pocket in his specialized coat. In the blink of an eye, his hand reappeared clutching a slim, nickel-plated silent pistol- a final, tiny marvel of engineering meant for quiet execution.
The movement was too quick for me to react and I was shoved sideways against the granite wall. She had seen the flash of metal, heard the sudden, desperate intake of Ashworth’s breath, and her ancient, Laird's instinct had taken over. The shot was a muffled thwip- a sound barely louder than a snapping twig, instantly swallowed by the wind.
I saw her stagger. Her lamp clattered on the stone, plunging the alcove into near darkness, lit only by the wildly swinging lantern I still held. She crumpled, hitting the rough stone floor with a sickening, heavy thud.
I let out a raw sound of shock and despair as I lunged for her.
Below, the growl had already begun.
Mairi, that great Deerhound, had been poised in the entrance corridor, alerted by the subtle change in tension and the sudden movement. The muffled sound was the trigger and sensing her mistress' distress, the magnificent beast launched forward, a huge, tawny shape exploding from the shadows.
To late! Ashworth barely had time to register the primal, terrifying force accelerating toward him. His silent pistol was instantly ripped from his grasp, vanishing into the night.
A high, shrieking scream- a sound utterly stripped of all scientific dignity- was torn from Ashworth's throat as Mairi, the final, savage defender of Caisteal Inbhir Lòchaidh, met the arrogant scientist. The fight was swift, brutal, and entirely one-sided. The primal sound of Mairi's attack was swallowed by the wind and the darkness.
I scrambled toward Valkyrie, my heart was frantic. My lantern lay shattered, plunging the alcove into near darkness. I reached her side and slid onto the slick stone, pulling her into my arms.
"Valkyrie!" I cried, cradling her head against my chest, the freezing drizzle mingling with my tears. "Oh, my God, Valkyrie, no!"
"OH, for goodness sake, Thaddeus!" she rasped, her voice weak but laced with distinct impatience. "What a carry on!"
I was stunned, my grief momentarily replaced by absolute confusion. I felt the unexpected weight and rigidity of her torso as I tried to lift her closer.
She blinked slowly, her breath slightly strained, but her eyes were clear and sharp, fixed on my face. She nodded slightly toward her chest. "A small precaution, Thaddeus. The castle has plenty of suits of armour, you have noticed. "Sir. Duncan" was kind enough to spare his chest guard for the evening. The projectile has been stopped by solid, cold steel, not by my rib cage."
The relief, so sudden and absolute it was almost painful, seized me. Valkyrie, the pragmatic genius, had protected herself and me all along.
"Now," she commanded, her voice regaining a fraction of its strength. "Ashworth has been... dealt with. Help me inside, before this drizzle gives me a chill. The Sentinel is still listening, and I need to see the final tally."
I scrambled to his feet, pulling her up with newfound strength. I looked back toward the cliffs where the wind howled over the settling form of Mairi. The Force of Ruin was neutralized, defeated not just by logic and instinct, but by a humble piece of protective steel and a faithful hound.
I supported her in his arms, feeling the reassuring, awkward bulk of the metal beneath her clothing. "Inside, my Laird," I murmured, "To the Sentinel."
I assisted Valkyrie with agonizing care down the winding stone staircase to the subterranean vault and set her gently into a chair near the humming Sentinel. The massive, intricate brass of the Difference Engine glowed warmly in the lantern light.
I carefully removed her thick woollen of jacket revealing the metal chest guard- a simple piece of knight's armour- dented by the force of where the bullet had struck.
"I fear I may have acquired a cracked rib or two and some bruising." she said.
I sat down heavily beside her, my whole body now shaking with the delayed shock of grief and then relief.
Valkyrie, meanwhile, had recovered her full command. "Thaddeus," she said, her voice entirely firm now, though her breathing was still shallow. "The Sentinel. The final tally."
"Yes, of course." I said as I stumbled toward the console. The red light still flashed: RHYTHM: NON-BIOLOGICAL REPETITION. The machine was awaiting instructions. I began to rapidly adjust the levers and dials.
"I am overriding the Magma-scope input," I explained, my mind finally clicking back into the precise logic of the machine. "I am shifting all power to the internal defence algorithms and the secondary lock systems." I paused, looking at the complex beauty of the gears. "The surveillance ends. The defence begins."
As I completed the sequence, the red light vanished. The Sentinel's rhythmic hum changed pitch- no longer listening, but actively guarding.
Valkyrie watched me, a slow, appreciative smile touching her lips. "You are quite well, Thaddeus. More than well. You defeated him with logic before Mairi ever touched him."
I turned back to her. My earlier impulse to treat her like a fragile daughter was gone, replaced by profound respect and absolute devotion. I reached out, not to comfort her, but to carefully touch the dented steel plate.
"He was defeated by your foresight," I corrected softly. "The instinct to protect me, and the intelligence to bring a steel breastplate to a gunfight. He assumed we were fighting him on his terms-science versus science. We fought him with Babbage's logic, a Laird's duty, and the ancient loyalty of the Highlands."
"Legacy is not a line, Thaddeus," she murmured, echoing the sentiment of her father's work.
"No," I agreed, gently wrapping the warm wool of a throw blanket around her shoulders. "It is a circle. And we, dear Valkyrie, are now at the centre of it."
The silence in the vault was complete, broken only by the contented sigh of the great, protecting machine. The Force of Ruin had been extinguished, leaving behind only the promise of a future secured by our intellectual and personal partnership.
A few days had passed and Seonaid's poultices and tight bandages were healing Valkyrie's ribs and bruise. James sat beside me patiently teaching me to speak the Gaelic. Yes, the Laird of Lochaber-in-waiting would grow to be a very fine Laird indeed.