Viggo's Redemption (Prologue)
Book 1 of the Age Of Steam series
At long last after sailing for what seemed a decade the port of Chethlam appeared beyond the bow of the ship. Whilst standing on the deck I watched the port get closer to us, making note in my head of everything I could pick out about the city in the dark for I would be living there for a long time if I failed in my mission; the rarity of the newly manufactured motorized cars suggested that this was mainly a working class district, this assumption was made clear to me when the pedestrians wore foul clothing and no doubt adopted feral and uncivilized behaviour when in the presence of alcohol. My destination was not the city itself however but what laid beyond it's walls, a formal masquerade ball hosted by the notorious Lord Graham Sinnitt, a man who earns too much and gives too little. He owned this city after the failed uprising by the workers five years ago and since then drained every bit of income it made from trades and industry to build his lands and only gave a handful of money to those truly working from skin to bone, not even enough to live off of for a week before he forced taxes deliberately on those too poor to pay. 'Why don't they just leave?' I hear you ask, the two answers are simple: in every other city in Britain they will face the same fate only worse and they likely won't have the money to move anyway since buying a loaf of bread to feed seven children is like trying to buy a castle.
Those seven children would have to grow up and live off of the scraps of anything they are grateful enough to find in the bins or what's washed up on the beach. Pretty soon those children would either starve to death, commit suicide or be sent to the gallows for stealing from the markets. In a family of cougars five out of seven of those children died alongside the parents from the fates listed above and two survived. Those two are: Viggo and Jonah Kaylock. Jonah was given the opportunity to grow up with a noble family after losing his younger brother and joined the Parliament Guard, meaning Viggo had to fend for himself. For ten years it was nothing but living on the streets doing just about anything to make money all the way to growing up in an Christian orphanage, to graduating from college and suddenly finding himself under a shadowy assassin order becoming the next Robin Hood. He was thrown into a civil war where the Rich fought the Poor, machinery threatened to take over the old way of life and how his love for another man will affect his fight for redemption.
The bells on the crow's nest rung out signalling the end of our journey, the pier crept closer and closer until the ship anchored and the longboats came to pick us up. Unlike the modern steamboats, the sailing ship I was on had to be anchored around a quarter of a mile away since it was unable to manoeuvre out of the docks effectively. I only had the money to afford a sailing ship and a carriage to the mansion. A carriage was no where to be seen after I arrived on the docks but instead a motorized vehicle (some called it a "car") waited for me. Some remarked cars to be the fore-front of comfortable transportation but I saw it for what it truly was: a deafening, unstable and foul-smelling hunk of metal that went no faster than an old, disease-ridden donkey and I would of preferred to ride one of those. I was just bloody grateful I didn't have to drive the thing myself; a man sat in the driver's seat dressed in a thick wool coat, a scarf covering his lower face and a pair of goggles and hat obscuring any remains of a face. I knew it was for me because not only did I tend to have bad luck but another man stood by the passenger door dressed in a suit held a card which read: 'Viggo Kaylock', my name.
The car ride was just how I expected it to be: bloody painful. The pain my ass had to endure from seat bucking on that 20 minute ride was only made worse by the company; the driver was as unsociable as a brick wall and his card-holding friend was only worse, the Westie wouldn't even look at me. Still, at least I was able to have peace to my thoughts...wait, you believe me? There was a monotonous rumble of the engine and the occasional backfiring of the exhaust that I was sure would explode at one point, the only thing stopping me from exiting the car and continuing on foot was the fact I didn't much like hiking up hills either.
Arriving at the mansion I was more than glad to be out of that blasted car and on the front steps of the estate. Amongst the many rich people loitering outside the doors enjoying the night air and puffing a few whiffs of their pipe-weed the tyrant Lord Sinnitt, my target, was nowhere to be seen. I should of assumed that he didn't tend to expose himself in the open so easily, I wasn't the first assassin to target him by the way. Whilst my mind was figuring out his likely whereabouts my physical senses kept me aware of a presence trying to be flirty with me from behind. With his paw caught before it reached my ass I pinned the culprit towards a nearby tree staring him down directly into a familiar pair of crystal-blue eyes. The fox's eyes were deep pools of blue that made me lost for a little moment in a sense of nostalgia. The man that I had pinned against the tree was none other than my ex-lover, Sherlock Wickes. The sly bastard never showed a hint of fear but instead amusement, I always hated that about him especially when I deliberately wanted to scare him-in a playful sense of course.
"I see you haven't lost your touch Viggo, in fact your getting faster, you can't be having another hangover again can you?" He jested, I would never admit it but I missed the sweet sound of his voice. When he sung on stage during our first encounter I thought I was in a dream; the type of dream that you didn't want to wake up from because it was better than reality and he was that dream. To avoid sounding creepy I didn't stalk him afterwards, instead I made my move right there and then but that's a story for another time.
I took a couple of steps back to give Sherly some room. "I'm surprised to see you here, I didn't know you liked these kinds of parties especially since nobody here will be tolerant of your...services" my reply was a little ruder than I intended although apologising was something I never did lightly, I figured it was just a typical Kaylock family thing that Sherly never understood.
"Apology accepted, besides you still believe I'm a courtesan do you? I told you: I entertain people by music and dancing, I don't offer those types of services. Anyway, I'm attending this ball because I've been asked to attend via an invitation, the real question is what are you doing here?" He crossed his arms across his chest with a quizzical look on his face. I couldn't tell him the truth because telling the man that has been out of your life for nearly seven years that your an assassin is hardly something he would believe. I had to lie.
"I'm a journalist now and I'm wanting to interview Lord Sinnitt for The Zeppelin Herald, apparently his work to preserve this city's wealth has been praised by the Prime Minister himself" it was best lie I could make hoping Sherly would believe it. His nod, I reckoned, proved that he did however his eyes told otherwise and they never lied.
"Well. Viggo. I hope you have fun tonight with your...interview and let's hope this time you just may stay clear of the alcohol, we don't want you to go back in time seven years ago now do we?" he laughed and walked away up the stairs, swinging his tail. What he said about the alcohol left a twinge of guilt in my stomach. I was an alcoholic seven years ago, there's no denying it and it was because of my drinking problem that Sherly left me but he never understood the pain I went through from losing my family and living on the streets. Still, he never deserved to be hurt like that.
Putting what happened earlier to the back of my head for now I journeyed up the stairs and into the mansion. It was what you'd expect from a multi-millionaire; the marble pillars lined along the walls at either side of the first room, a staircase just ahead that split into two directions to the left and right on the second floor. Inside the hall there stood a few groups of furs chatting amongst themselves, I didn't pay any attention to what they spoke of unless it pointed me in the direction of Lord Sinnitt's whereabouts.
"Did you hear? Apparently our Lord Sinnitt put in a request for a MALE dancer for this party and he is apparently from a second class family, I never thought he would have the nerve to do such a thing!" said an elderly woman to her friends. What I gathered from her statement and many others not many people appreciated Lord Sinnitt's choice of entertainers, a few of whom were males (including Sherly) that were either gay or bi-sexual and amongst the nobility it was considered a 'sin' to be flirtatious towards one who is the same gender as yourself. A sin that I so happily indulged in for most of my life. Despite eavesdropping on many peoples' conversations I didn't find myself any closer to finding out Lord Sinnitt's whereabouts therefore I figured it was best to explore the mansion starting with the main dance hall.
The second the doors to the dance hall were opened a wave of music hit my ears, it was completely unexpected since the first hall was incredibly quiet. The band played a series of lively tunes while the masses were waltzing, fox trotting and tangoing their way around the dance floor. I wasn't much of a dancer however that didn't mean I didn't enjoy the young couples enjoying themselves that night. If there was anyone I wanted to dance with it would have been Sherly. Just for that one chance to apologise to him for the wrong I did in the past, to hold him in arms the same way I used to and tell him I still loved him. I was prepared to tell him this but did he still love me? That was the question. I had the chance to tell him since he was sitting alone at a table with a glass of wine in his paw and it didn't take all of my training to realise he was upset. It dawned on me that Sherly know not a soul at this party and no one wanted anything to do with him because he was a deemed a heretic the minute he set paw into this world. On the balcony above him however stood the infamous Lord Sinnitt. Dressed in a black suit, a wool coat draped over his shoulders and a cigar hung from his muzzle. I never met Lord Sinnitt personally but I was told he was a deranged tyrant loving the new machines more than his fellow furs. His face was deformed slightly; his right eye was foggy compared to his left and the right side of his mouth was scarred deeply from many fights in his earlier years. The very sight of him sickened me to the core of my stomach, it was because of this man that many families live in poverty, fear of death by sickness or hunger and unemployment because he encouraged the introduction of machinery. My task that night was to assassinate him to give the working class a chance to rise above their oppressors whilst the Labour Political Party elect a new landlord, someone with fairer motives. Below Lord Sinnitt's balcony sat another problem: Sherly. The man I still loved even after leaving him was sitting alone, a glass of wine in his hand and a lost spark in his eyes.
I couldn't leave him but neither could I miss the opportunity to stick a blade in Lord Sinnitt's neck, silencing him for the good of our future. I had to know where my heart laid and it was in that moment I had to choose...