Against the Brotherhood Read Online Free

to deal with their rapacity, though I devoutly hope it will not be necessary. The men you are to meet will expect such a rogue as you to have some means of defense, as well.”
    “But surely they will not want to bring notice upon themselves,” I said, seeking to find a haven in his reassurance.
    He favored me with an exasperated stare. “They will subject you to scrutiny. You will not want these villains to decide you are not one with them once they can be persuaded to accept you. To guard against such misfortune, Guthrie”—he reached out and took my right hand—“I am going to give you as much protection as I can.”
    Before I could object, he had tugged on my sleeve, baring my wrist just at the base of my palm. I stared in astonishment as he took out a syringe filled with a deep-green fluid. “What on earth—?” I began, only to stifle an oath as Mycroft Holmes pierced my wrist and injected a small amount of the dye under my skin.
    “It is similar to a tattoo, only this one may be removed with certain chemicals when this case is finished,” said Holmes, consulting a scar on the inside of his right wrist as he continued to mark my skin.
    “But what does this mean?” I asked, wincing at the repeated sting of the needle.
    “It is the mark of the Servants of the Valley of the Kings,” said Holmes, as if every schoolboy should recognize it. “And that is all you need know.”
    “The Servants of the Valley of the Kings,” I repeated. “All right.”
    “Should anyone inquire as to its meaning,” Holmes said as he put the finishing touches on a scarab no larger than my collar-button, “you must deny having any more knowledge than that.”
    “Which is true,” I reminded him.
    “Just so. They cannot force it from you.” Holmes put the syringe aside. “I am sorry for the discomfort, but I assure you that the protection this affords makes the process a small price to pay.” There was a grim light in Holmes’ gray eyes. “For they will be revenged on you for your temerity if they decide you are not what you claim to be. They will make your death a warning to others who might attempt anything of a similar nature.” He leaned back in his chair so that it teetered on two rear legs. “You will be on the precipice, Guthrie; I cannot emphasize that too strongly. I do not want you to fall.”
    “No, indeed, sir,” I said, taking his remarks to heart, for there was no gainsaying the conviction with which he spoke.
    My employer lowered his chair so that all four legs were once again solidly on the floor. “You relieve me, Guthrie. Now, have your meal while I go over what I want you to do. There is an inn off the Brownlow Street, near Gray’s Inn. It is called the Cap and Balls, one of the few buildings in that area to survive the fire of 1666. I want you to go there, and take as inexpensive a room as you can, and make inquiries about a solicitor who is not particular about his client or his fees. Make sure they see the scarab, but do not flaunt it. And mention malign stars if you can, so that the spies of the men we seek will know that a likely prospect has emerged. You will need to be venal and willing.”
    I took my notebook and set it beside my fork, certain that I would have to take notes while we ate; I hoped that what he would tell me would not entirely rob me of my appetite.
    By two in the afternoon I was as prepared as I could be without intense study. I had chosen a suit of clothes from those Mycroft Holmes kept for disguises, provided by the actor Edmund Sutton: a slightly threadbare coat not quite in the current mode, the sort a senior clerk might wear; the waistcoat was missing two buttons and was overlarge on me; a shirt with a twice-turned collar and cuffs to enhance the shabby appearance of the coat; and a pair of nondescript trousers about three inches too large at the waist. Add to this two badly scuffed boots and I presented the appearance of a man of modest means who had fallen on hard