Story Notes:
Written 2014 for Dorian's birthday (28 July).
Challenge - to write a story in 500 words exactly.
Challenge - to write a story in 500 words exactly.
“Er “ you’d better come and see this, m’lord.” Bonham stood awkwardly in the doorway, looking unusually hesitant. “I’m not sure what to do with “ er “ well, just come and look, could you, m’lord?”
“Why? Whatever is the matter?”
Bonham squirmed uncomfortably. “Sorry, m’lord, but I really think you need to see this.”
Mystified, the Earl followed him down the stairs.
A small group of Dorian’s men had gathered outside Castle Gloria’s front door. Jones, standing to one side, was suppressing a grin. At his side, Peters was grinning outright. Several others stood huddled together, their backs to the doorway, talking in low voices, clustered around some object that Dorian couldn’t see.
“Now, what’s going on here, boys?”
At the sound of the Earl’s voice, discussion stopped. The small group broke up and stepped aside “ allowing Dorian to see what “ or rather, who “ they had been discussing.
Seated on the flagstones in front of the Castle’s main entrance, looking exceptionally uncomfortable and extremely irate, was Major Klaus von dem Eberbach, tightly bound up in yards of brightly coloured ribbon.
For a moment, Dorian could only stare.
The Major’s mouth was sealed with a neat rectangle of adhesive. He was unable to speak. He was, however, able to glare “ and the angry look he was giving Dorian spoke volumes.
Shaken out of his confusion, Dorian said to the group at large, “Come along, boys “ surely someone must have a knife on them. Help me to get the Major untied.”
Uncomfortable glances were exchanged. None of them really wanted to be within punching distance when the Major was freed.
Sighing, Bonham stepped forward, pocket knife in hand. He prised up a corner of the adhesive sealing the Major’s lips “ “Sorry, Major, this’ll hurt a bit” “ and ripped it off. A cascade of profanity poured out of the Major’s mouth. Bonham cut the silk bonds and stepped away quickly. The Major scrambled to his feet, still swearing, rubbing his wrists.
“Major, I’m so dreadfully sorry to see you in such a state,” Dorian said. “Who did this to you?”
“Never mind! I must use your telephone! I have to call my agents!” Without waiting to be invited, the Major strode into the Castle.
“Peters, be a love and show the Major where the telephone is,” Dorian said.
“Right, m’lord.” Reluctantly, Peters followed the Major inside, under the sympathetic gaze of his fellow thieves.
“Will somebody please tell me how this happened? How long has the Major been here? Did anyone see who put him here?”
Dorian’s men shrugged and mumbled.
Bonham, picking up the ruins of silk ribbon, held up a bright red envelope. “This was tied up with all that ribbon. It’s addressed to you, m’lord.”
Dorian took the envelope and broke the seal. Inside, there was a card. The front showed a picture of red roses, and the words ‘Happy Birthday’ embossed in gold. Inside, written in careful copperplate script, he read: “Enjoy your birthday, Eroica. From Mischa, with love. Good luck.”