The Two Faces of Temperance Read online

  The Two Faces of Temperance

  ICHABOD TEMPERANCE

  Copyright © 2016 Ichabod Temperance

  All rights reserved.

  ISBN-13: 978-1539554790

  ISBN-10: 1539554791

  The Adventures of Ichabod Temperance

  Volume One: ‘A Matter of Temperance’

  Volume Two: ‘A World of InTemperance’

  Volume Three: ‘For the Love of Temperance’

  Volume Four: ‘A Study in Temperance’

  Volume Five: ‘In a Latitude of Temperance’

  Volume Six: ‘The Measure of Temperance’

  Volume Seven: ‘The Seventh Voyage of Temperance’

  Volume Eight: ‘The Title of Temperance’

  Volume Nine: ‘A Journey of Temperance’

  Volume Ten: ‘The Two Faces of Temperance’

  Table of Contents

  Acknowledgements

  Chapter One. A Stranger at the Inn.

  Chapter Two. Our Ship sets Sail!

  Chapter Three. Rough Passage.

  Chapter Four. Ship’s Log.

  Chapter Five. Land Ho!

  Chapter Six. Mutiny.

  Chapter Seven. Castaway.

  Chapter Eight. Marooned.

  Chapter Nine. Battle.

  Chapter Ten. The Voyage Home.

  Afterword

  Acknowledgements

  Thank you, Wolfgang Metzger, for the derbied cover silhouette.

  Thank you Sergeant Turk for the original cover scheme.

  Thank you A.L. Williams for the top hat silhouette

  {with an assist from Ichabod Temperance}

  and additional cover art.

  Thank you Robert Louis Stevenson, for your inspirational stories.

  Thank you, Miss Persephone Plumtartt, for your unending patience and assistance.

  Thanks to all my pirate pals at Sloss.

  Chapter One.

  A Stranger at the Inn.

  “Let every face

  look upon us in

  worshipful joy!”

  “We go now

  to greet our

  newly

  appropriated

  subjects.”

  “Stop, Miss! This is Westminster Palace; you can’t come in here dressed like...”

  ~Bip!~

  “Westminster Guard down! Eek! I am being assaulted by a beautiful monst...Augh!”

  ~Bop!~

  “Guards, guards! Westminster is under attack! All guards to the central lobby!”

  “Ahhhh-hahahahaha!”

  “You men,”

  “come to

  attention!”

  “Queens Persephone are arrived!”

  “Help, the Palace is under attack! All Westminster Palace Guards, defend the central lobbies!”

  “Eek! She’s a monster!”

  ~Clip!~

  “Aiee! The scantily clad lass moves too fast!”

  ~Clop!~

  “Augh! Oye’ve been mis-used!”

  “Ha, ha!”

  “We say,”

  “we are not

  above,”

  “instilling

  discipline”

  “among the

  troops.”

  “Yoikes! She’s coming at me! Oof! That double she-demon has relieved me of me pole arm. She uses it to vault over the heads of a phalanx of Guardsmen.”

  ~thwuuuhhph!~

  “Augh!”

  ~thumpity, tumble-tumble, thump!~

  “That single duo of deadly cuties just used me pole to sweep all me mates off their feets! Our lads are strewn about like so much harvested wheat.”

  “Take cover; she is going to throw that spear at somebody!”

  “No, she harpooned the hanging bolt of the central chandelier. Look out! It’s going to fall!”

  ~Crash!~

  “That horrible girl dropped the chandelier upon the Guard reinforcements that were coming to our rescue! We need reinforcements for the reinforcements, on the double!”

  “Eek! That freakish woman is employing acrobatic springboards and cartwheeled momentum builders, occasioned with elbows, kicks, and leg-entwined neck throws to our fellow guards, to cross the hall, faster than we can pursue! The lethal lovely has crossed the lobbies to the House of Lords! There’s nothing to stop this terror-crat!”

  “We say,

  “something

  must be

  done about,”

  “the

  deplorable,”

  “chivalric,”

  “door

  opening,”

  “shortcomings,”

  “of this

  Palace.”

  “Do not,”

  “make

  us open

  this door

  ourselves.”

  “sigh.”

  “Very well.”

  “Hmm,”

  “this door

  opens

  outward.”

  “It

  might

  prove,”

  “more

  challenging

  than the

  last.”

  “We

  shall

  remove its

  cumbersome

  locks with

  a stroke of

  this battle axe.”

  ~kuh-chunk!~

  “One good,

  solid strike

  to the clasp

  should complete

  the job.”

  ~chungk!~

  “Eek! Stop there! This is the House of Lords! A monster such as you, regardless of how surprisingly comely you are, my dears, cannot attack this sanctified institution! And, might I add, you certainly may not do so whilst in such inappropriate attire.”

  “Burbity! Indeed, women are not allowed here in the House of Lords outside of royalty and we do not expect them to arrive bare-legged.”

  “Bup, bup, bup, just so, though of course, m’Lord, the fetching creature is wearing intricately patterned hosiery.”

  “Burbity, nevertheless, her legs are bared for all the world to see.”

  “Harumph. Yes, quite so, m’Lord. So too, has the traitorous female chosen to invade this sanctum in little more than her contour-enhancing undergarments.”

  “My Lords,

  your eyeballs

  bulge

  to the point that

  we fear the orbs

  shall pop from

  their

  sockets.”

  “Enjoy

  the view,

  boys, you will

  be admiring it

  for a long time

  to come.”

  “You may

  desist in

  whatever it is

  you are doing,”

  “and see

  to our

  coronation.”

  “This country

  has languished

  without a

  proper leader

  for too long.”

  “The reign of”

  “Persephones Plumtartt”

  “cannot

  arrive soon

  enough.”

  “We

  don’t want

  anymore

  obstinacy.”

  “Take it from us,”

  “your

  resistance

  to the

  inevitable,”

  “is truly

  an effort

  in futility.”

  “Now then,”

  “where is

  the former

  queen,”

  “and

  Prime Minister?”

  “We

  wish t
o

  hurry the

  proceedings

  with all

  due haste.”

  “You outrageous woman! This has gone far enough! This is the heart of the British Empire and you will show the House of Lords more respect!”

  “We say, this

  Parliament

  belongs to us,

  now.”

  “Do not be so

  presumptuous

  as to think this

  body of men

  could oppose

  the inescapable

  conclusion

  that we,”

  “and we alone,”

  “are destined

  to rule the

  British Empire.”

  “Imprudent

  action on

  your part

  will be your

  final folly.”

  “Westminster

  had better

  become

  accustomed

  to doing things

  our way

  in short order,”

  “eh hem?”

  “Burbity. Gentlemen, we must band together to stop this woman!”

  “Hear, hear. So too, must we put aside socially prudent ideals and appropriate the girl, manually, er, so to speak. As much as my high ideals of this Victorian Era are distressed at the concept, I feel that it is for the greater good of National Security that we must suffer the burden of laying hands on her voluptuous flesh. Harumph.”

  “Charge!”

  “We say,”

  “We

  are cheered

  to see our

  new Members

  of Parliament

  working together

  as a unified

  team.”

  “How

  dreadful,”

  “however,”

  “that you

  use this

  newfound unity

  against your

  nouveau royal.”

  “So be it.”

  “You

  Parliamentarians

  leave us

  no choice

  but to strike

  your members.”

  “Ow!” “Oof!” “Burbity!”

  “Wah-hai-ee-yiah!”

  “Ha, ha!

  That’s more

  like it!”

  “Choke on

  this procedure,

  you

  tawdry Tory.”

  “Hai-yuh-wauki!”

  “That should

  knock the

  writ out of you,

  you big Whig.”

  “Well, it didn’t

  take long to

  get our

  Houses in order,”

  “after all.”

  “There now,”

  “where is the

  former queen,”

  “and our

  Prime Minister?”

  “We wish the

  coronation

  to proceed

  with all

  due haste.”

  “Ahhhhhh-hahahahahaha...”~Knock! Knock! Knock!~

  ~Knock! Knock! Knock!~

  “Miss Plumtartt!”

  ~Knock! Knock! Knock!~

  “Miss Plumtartt, Ma’am? Are you all right in there, Ma’am?”

  ~Knock! Knock! Knock!~

  Oh, oh, my, it was all a dream. I am in bed at my London hotel.

  “Miss Plumtartt, Ma’am?”

  “Yes, Mr. Temperance, I am quite all right, sir. I suppose I called out while experiencing a frightening dream. I had the strangest sensation of being two people occupying the same body concurrently. My word, my heart is still racing! Please come in and sit with me a moment, Mr. Temperance, for I find myself uncharacteristically distressed.”

  “Yes, Ma’am, Miss Plumtartt, Ma’am. I done sent down to the hotel lobby to get a pass key.”

  “There is a door connecting our rooms, Mr. Temperance.”

  “It’s locked, Miss Plumtartt, Ma’am.”

  “You have a key, sir.”

  “It didn’t feel right to do so in a secretive manner.”

  “Then enter through the hallway entrance.”

  “I didn’t want to enter your room without a chaperon, Ma’am.”

  ~sigh.~

  “Hey, here he comes now. It’s my bellboy buddy, Spike. Howdy Spikey.”

  “Evening, Icky, here’s your pass key.”

  “Thanks, Spike.”

  “I didn’t figure you to be one to sneak into a lady’s boudoir at night, Icky. It just goes to show, doesn’t it? It’s always the quiet ones.”

  “Oh no, Spike, Miss Plumtartt invited me.”

  “Ohhh, I seeee...”

  “Yeah, I mean, oh no, you don’t!”

  “You don’t have to explain anything to me, Ick-Ick. Just kick me back a big tip, right?”

  “Spike, come back, I can’t go in there alone!”

  “Mr. Temperance, are you coming in to comfort me, or not?”

  “I reckon not, Miss Plumtartt, Ma’am.”

  ~sigh.~ “It is nearly sunrise, anyway. I shall go ahead and rise so that we may get a fresh start on our first day back in England.”

  “Oh, goody! I want to get in some sight-seeing before I have to knuckle down and get to work.”

  “Quite so, Mr. Temperance, you and I have very little time to spare on this trip. Let us make the most of this day devoted to London tourism.”

  ~ * * * ~

  Ring around the Rosie,

  Pockets full of Poseys.

  Ashes, ashes,

  We all fall down.

  “Ain’t that a cute little song those adorable, dirty and miserable children are singing, Miss Plumtartt?”

  “Well, if one puts aside the disturbing origins of the song, perhaps, Mr. Temperance.”

  “What disturbing origins are those, Miss Plumtartt?”

  “Legend has it that the little poem was composed during the Bubonic Plague which London suffered. The words are intended to ward children away from Plague victims. Are you not feeling well, Mr. Temperance?”

  “Hunh? Oh, I’ll be okay in a moment, Miss Plumtartt, Ma’am, it’s just that’s a funny coincidence, us having that Plague reference again, right after after my bad experience in the Black Death exhibit at Madame Toussaud’s Wax Museum, Ma’am.”

  “I believe it just a freakish happenstance that a real rat should run from the display and up your leg, Mr. Temperance.”

  “It was just a little unsettling after my episode at ‘Dr. Griselprone’s Collection of Medical Oddities and Natural Freak Exposition-drome’.”

  “Mr. Temperance, you should have realized going in that the exhibits would not be wearing clothes.”

  “Yes, Ma’am.”

  “And the doctor had the most fair price of any biological peculiarity and mishap museum we have visited today.”

  “I reckon that exhibit on torture devices through history was educational of a sorts.”

  “Exactly, Mr. Temperance.”

  “I did not know London had such a taste for the macabre, Miss Plumtartt, Ma’am.”

  “I say, Mr. Temperance, these shows are a bit tame. In this modern day of 1877, our refined British taste has tamped down on the city’s natural blood-lust. Only a few years ago, epic battles were fought between various big cats, bears, and any other exotic beast that could be captured. Fighting pits adorned the city like a pox. Many epic battles between various wild beasts occurred outside the Tower of London in a dried moat.”

  “Gosh.”

  “In fact, these were but a free preliminary show as the audience is slowly tolled through the entrance on their way inside for a view of a be-heading.”

  “You mean a human beheading?”

  “Yes, Mr. Temperance. Of course, there is a nominal fee, you understand, but the animal exhibitions help mollify the eager crowds and maintain a celebratory sensation throughout the event.”

  “Ye
s, Ma’am.”

  “As Smithfield Markets is the traditional site of livestock slaughter, so too is the Tower the established venue for the church to burn its heretics.”

  “Well, I reckon you got to burn your heretics somewheres.”

  “Indeed, for so too did the Exchequer’s office find this an appropriate venue for boiling forgers in oil.”

  “Gee, revenuers are the same all over, ain’t they?”

  “Quite. Take a deep whiff, Mr. Temperance.”

  “I’d rather not, Ma’am.”

  “Fleet Street has an aroma all her own.”

  “I’ll give you that, Ma’am.”

  “I smell meat pies. Wait here, Mr. Temperance, I shall go and fetch us a pair myself.”

  “Yes, Ma’am. Gee, there goes Miss Plumtartt. I don’t like being by myself around all these people. Oh golly, there is so much bustling traffic around here, I hope I don’t get caught up and washed away.”

  “Hello, young man.”

  “Hien! Oops, I mean, howdy, mister. Gee, I guess you kind of startled me. I did not notice you looming up behind me.”

  “Forgive me, my boy. I could see by your clothes that you were a visitor to our shores. Now that I hear your boorish American tongue I am justified in my assumption. The moment I clapped eyes on you, my befuddled little friend, I said to myself, Todd Squweeny, you need to take that lost little lamb under your protective wing, lest some unscrupulous villain sweep in to do this innocent guest an injustice. No, I decided on the spot to make it my mission to prevent you, my sweet naïve doe, from coming to injury.”

  “Golly, that sure is swell, Mr. Squweeny, sir.”

  “You have the advantage, of me, Mr.? ...”

  “Temperance, sir.”

  “You have family here in our fair city, Mr. Temperance?”

  “Nossir.”

  “Tee, hee! No family in the city, says you! Well, tell me, do you have family here in England, Mr. Temperance?”

  “Nossir, Mr. Squweeny.”

  “Ho, ho! You have friends here, then?”

  “Not so much...”

  “There is a Mrs. Temperance?”

  “Nossir.”

  “I see, I see, I see. Then you are here on business?”

  “Yessir.”

  “You look newly arrived. Have you checked into a hotel?”

  “Yessir.”

  “Blast! Oh well, this may still work. Have you made contact with your employer, yet?”

  “Nossir.”

  “Good! Oops! I mean, eh, pardon me for saying so, but you look a terrible sight, my lad.”

  “Hunh? I do?”

  “Yes, dear boy, but you are in luck!”

  “I am?”

  “Yes, for you see, I am a barber! I am a most skilled barber, I assure you, my bosom mate. I am the most famous barber Fleet Street has ever known.”