Differential Damsel
Kevin L. O'Brien
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Text Copyright 2013 by Kevin L. O'Brien
Chivalry by Frank Bernard Dicksee 1885
Cover design and typography copyright 2013 by Kevin L. O'Brien
Charlemagne Std font distributed under an end-user license by Carol Twombly and Adobe
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License Notes
Please consider writing a review for this book on the retailer's website.
If you see any misspellings or typographical errors, please notify Kevin L. O'Brien using one of his online social networks. Thank you.
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents, including those based on the real world, are either products of the imagination of Kevin L. O'Brien or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Because some ebook platforms do not support special characters, certain words may appear misspelled, but this was done deliberately to avoid the problem of the platforms deleting the characters. Also, the LRF platform used by older models of the Sony Reader does not permit the use of links to external URLs, whereas the PDB platform used by Palm reading devices does not support any form of linking whatsoever. Finally, certain words use British instead of American spelling, to simulate the characters' English accents.
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Table of Contents
Preface
Differential Damsel
Bonus Story: Xerox
About the Author
Other Books by Kevin L. O'Brien
Connect with Kevin L. O'Brien
Sample Excerpts
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Preface
If anyone hasn't figured out by now just how much Sir Differel Van Helsing loves her husband, Victor Plunkett, this story should make it plain. It also shows how much Differel trusts and depends on Eile and Sunny of Team Girl.
I got the idea to write a mirror-image version of the medieval "damsel in distress" story, in which the genders of the key roles of hero and damsel are reversed. But then, Differel always was more of a swashbuckler than Victor was.
Back to TOC
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Differel crept up the trail towards the wall as Eile and Sunny followed. The ruins were part of an ancient manor abandoned long ago, and while most of the buildings had long since collapsed and fallen into rubble, the protective curtain wall remained largely intact, except for a handful of breaches. The trail led to one, and she stopped on one side, keeping out of sight of the interior. The Girls fell in behind her as she took off her glasses. They were really a fashion statement; though myopic in the Waking World, she had perfect vision in the Dreamlands. But there could be a danger they would reflect light.
She peered in a cautious manner around the broken masonry into the central courtyard, fingering one of her wheellock pistols just in case. A few rods away four Men of Leng sat around a fire beside one of the few intact buildings, eating, drinking, and telling stories as they whiled away the evening before going to sleep. Though they wore dark-colored tunics and traveling coats, the flames illuminated their bulbous turbans and round faces in the growing twilight, with their wide frog-like mouths and wicked grinning leers. From the way they talked and laughed, she figured they were well pleased with the progress of their adventure so far.
But she felt less concern about them than the man they held captive. Strung up by his wrists inside the building's open doorway and stripped to the waist, Victor looked none the worst for his ordeal.
Which is good, she thought. She had resolved before she arrived that if they had harmed her husband in any way, she would kill them instead of take them captive. She was a crack marksman, and at that distance could pick them off easily, even with her primitive firearms.
She stepped back from the gap and turned to look at the Girls. They had volunteered without hesitation when she asked for their help, and she had been glad of it. She would rather have them at her back than an SAS troop in full battle gear. They were her friends in the Waking World as well as the Dreamlands, and called themselves Team Girl in both places.
She held up four fingers, and they nodded. She pointed at Sunny and motioned for her to remain behind. She crinkled her azure-blue eyes behind her granny glasses and smiled, then slipped off and strung her reflex composite bow. The Mercutio of the pair, she called herself White-lion in the Dreamworld, though she seemed more golden with her huge mane of gamboge hair and her buff complexion. She preferred comfortable traveling clothes, such as a long skirt, a sleeveless shirt that bared her midriff, and an open jacket, all of which did little to hide her voluptuous figure, along with leather boots and gloves, and a Robin Hood hat with a large golden plume. Her costume often led assailants to underestimate her, but her prowess with the bow and her magical talent prevented most attackers from getting close, and those few who did discovered she was equally adept with a quarterstaff or dagger.
Differel removed her hat and passed it to Sunny. The broad floppy brim provided excellent shading from the sun, but it would be more of a hindrance than a help in clandestine activity. She focused on Eile and indicated for her to start before her. Eile responded with a grin and a wink of an indigo-blue eye. Differel gave them both an a-okay sign as she pulled out a pistol, before turning and darting across the opening of the break to the other side. When she looked back, she saw Eile peeking into the courtyard. The sober, rock-solid member of the duo, she went by the name of Braveheart. She was thinner and tougher than her partner, with a long seal-brown ponytail and forelocks dyed a vivid fuchsia framing her ochre-toned face. She preferred to duel with her opponents face-to-face, and like a typical knight-errant she wore armor: a hauberk of cuir bouilli covered with bronze metal scales, an armoured bustier, and shoulder guards over a leather unitard, with gloves and boots. She had no helmet, but carried a wooden shield faced with metal strapped to her back, which she used to good effect with her broad, short-bladed sword.
Eile glanced at her and flashed a thumbs up. She put an arm around Sunny and gave her a quick smooch on the lips, then waited as her partner aimed high and fired an arrow over the wall. It whistled as it flew and clattered against rocks behind the Leng Men. As soon as they turned to see what had made the noise, including Victor, Eile slipped inside and made off along the wall's inner perimeter. Her destination was a collapsed tower further down the circumference that would put her behind and to one side of the Leng Men. Differel let her make the first move because she had the farthest to go.
As soon as she passed beyond the firelight, Differel looked at Sunny and nodded. She returned it and nocked another arrow. She fired again in a different direction and Differel ducked around the corner of the break. At the same moment, however, the Leng Man on the opposite side of the fire glanced in her direction, and she threw herself face-down behind a line of tall weeds along the inner side of the wall. The Lengite frowned and looked past his fellows, as if trying to get a better look at something he glimpsed for a moment. Differel lay still and held her breath. Her blood-red great coat, forest-green trousers, and mud-brown boots and gloves were dark enough to blend with the shadows, and she turned her face towards the ground to hide her medium-tan skin, but her long smoke-gray hair might be visible if the light was right. After a few moments, however, the Leng Man turned his attention back to his companions and took a drink from his bottle.
Exhaling a quiet sigh, Differel crawled along the edge of the wall until she reached the side of Victor's building. Standing, she flattened her back to the structure and looked out into the courtyard. The Leng Men were still preoccupied with their reverie. Gazing across the open area, she saw Eile wave at her from behind the tower. She was in po
sition.
Differel signaled her acknowledgement, then turned away from the corner and moved towards the back of the building. The space behind it lay in shadow almost to pitch blackness, except for a light that spilled out a hole onto the curtain wall. A man-shaped shadow played over the stone blocks, flickering with the campfire.
She groped through the darkness, feeling her way with her free hand on the building. When she reached where the light came from, she found an opening big enough to step through. The room beyond consisted of a single large space with four pillars down the center. Three yaks were tethered to one side, and their packs stacked nearby against the far wall. Almost directly