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Chapter 9 — River Road Chase
Glasgow — Mist-Shrouded Lane, Late Night
Hoofbeats pounded louder through the fog, closing fast. The carriage swayed as the driver whipped the team to a swifter gallop—wheels clattering sharply over rutted cobbles and loose stone. Dark shapes surged from the gloom behind: two heavy, open gigs, men leaning forward in their seats, faces masked, eyes fixed on their prey.
“Hold tight!” Josh braced himself wide, one hand gripping the frame, the other hovering near his weapon. He checked on the portrait—still secure, wrapped safe at the centre—then turned his focus outward. “Armed—glints of steel in their hands!”
Pete slipped swiftly to the rear opening, his stance balanced and sure. He watched the narrow lane ahead—high stone walls on one side, steep river bank on the other—no room to pass, no easy escape. “They mean to ram us or force us off the road!”
Leila leaned forward, gaze sharp and calculating. “Driver—keep to the centre! Pete—watch for a narrow arch ahead on the left. It’s low and tight—only one carriage can pass at a time. That’s our chance!”
The pursuers drew level on the river side—shouts rang out, stones and pistol shots sparked against the frame. Josh returned fire with steady precision, forcing them back. Just as Leila said, the stone archway loomed from the mist.
For a heartbeat the world narrowed to slick stone and rushing dark—the carriage lurched sideways as a wheel skidded on wet cobbles, the axle shrieking in protest. Leila’s hand flew to the wrapped portrait, feeling the frame bite into her palm as she held it tight against the jolt; outside, a gig’s lantern swung perilously close, its wheel grazing theirs before dropping back into line.
“Now—full speed!” Leila called.
Their carriage plunged through the dark passage, roof brushing stone. The first pursuing gig tried to follow too close—its wheel struck the wall hard, wood splintering, sending it spinning wildly toward the river edge. The second faltered, blocked by the wreck. Before they could recover, the team rattled out the far side, fog swallowing them once again.
Pete peered back—only shadows and silence remained. “They’re held up,” he breathed, “but they’ll know our destination now.”
Leila nodded, expression grim. “Then we must reach Sir Alistair’s estate before they find another way. The final stretch will be the most dangerous of all.”
Chapter 10 arrives soon. The estate holds the final answers — if they can reach it alive.
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