came – I gave her my locket, and she said she would send me to Louis – or save
him. I do not know which, Lord Koscuisko, and now thephonka is gone, and what
am I to do? Why should everyone I love suffer because of me?“
„Be quiet,“ Wessex said sharply. „The bad bargain you made with the fairy
woman hardly matters. We are going into the chateau – a matter in which you can be
of some aid. As for your Louis, rest assured, Lady Meriel, that if he is there I will
rescue him. Pretender or King, I would leave no man to the Black Priest’s mercies.“
Sarah stared into the barrel of the gun, transfixed with horror. Geoffrey Highclere
smiled.
Louis stepped in front of her.
„I have spent all my life learning what it is to be a valuable pawn, M’sieur
Highclere. I do not think that M’sieur Talleyrand will thank you for shooting me.
Run, Sarah.“
The last words were uttered in such a conversational tone that both his listeners
nearly missed them. Of the two, Sarah reacted first. She turned and ran.
Every fiber of her being rebelled against deserting Louis, but to do so was the
only weapon Sarah had. Louis had been right – Mr. Highclere dare not kill him. And
so long as Sarah lived, and was free, there would be another chance for her to
rescue him.
Behind her she could hear Mr. Highclere roaring for help. The corridor she ran
down was unfamiliar, leading her away from the staircase to the first floor. She heard
shouts as me house was roused; she had only seconds to find a haven.
She jerked open a door and found a narrow staircase leading bodi up and down.
The servants’ stair. When she closed the door behind her even the dim glimmers of
light from the hall were gone. Sarah hesitated only a moment before stepping into the
darkness of me downward steps.
But when she reached the next landing, the doorway was bricked over; she could
feel me new rough patch of brick, colder than the old plaster that surrounded it
There was no escape from the stairs into the ground floor.
And from above she saw a gleam of light shining upon the wall. Someone had
opened the door to the hallway.
Noiselessly, Sarah fled further into the dark.
Illya Koscuisko saluted gaily and turned the grey aside. The sky was light enough
that the animal seemed to glow, though not as supernaturally as the phouka had
done.
„Where is he going?“ Meriel asked. She was still bundled in the Hussar’s pelisse,
and Wessex had taken her up before him on his horse.
„To make a diversion, to find another way in, to secure our exit,“ Wessex said
dismissively. „Or to be shot, if our friend Talleyrand’s notion of order extends to
posting any sort of guard.“
„I am sorry for all the trouble I have caused you,“ Meriel said diffidently.
„You may be sorry for it later with my good will, assuming we both live through
the next few hours. I have no intention of leaving my wife in Talleyrand’s hands.“
„Do you care for her, then?“ Meriel asked. „Because she did not think that you
did – and when Geoffrey said he would hold her hostage for your behavior, she did
not think it would answer.“
„Woman“ Wessex groaned eloquently. „Listen here, my little adventuress: I am
about to present myself at Chateau Roissy in the guise of one of the Red Jacks who
has just come, from tidying up the business in Trois Vierges – which is to say, you.
In all likelihood, you and I shall be shot at once. If we are not, perhaps we can do
something in the way of rescuing the prisoners. All of this is of quite enormous
concern to me – a concern so great that somehow I cannot summon up the energy
to discuss my marriage. Do you quite take my meaning?“
Meriel turned her back to him as best she could in her awkward position, her back
poker-straight.
The stairs curved sharply around as they descended, the narrow staircase
becoming narrower still until Sarah’s shoulders brushed against the wall on both
sides. She had left both plaster and brick behind – ’here the walls were of
close-fitting stone, beaded with icy moisture from beneath the ground. Even the
steps were wet and slimy, so that if she had not been barefoot, she would have
slipped and fallen a dozen times.
She stopped in the darkness listening. Whoever had come to the stairs to look for
her had not bothered to come all the way to the bottom. She waited a few more
minutes, then crept slowly through the darkness back up to the first-floor door. A
thin line of light shone from beneath it, making Sarah hesitate. If she opened that
door, she might be walking directly into an ambush. Cautiously, she drew back,
continuing on up the stairs.
No light shone beneath the door on the second floor. Slowly Sarah eased the
door open. Darkness, and an unfamiliar hallway. For the moment she’d eluded her
pursuers.
She crossed to a window and pulled back the curtain. It was just dawn; the light
was grey and the grass was silver with morning dew. There was no escape in this
direction: the window gave onto a two-storey drop onto flagstones, and there was
no way for her to climb down.
Someone was riding up the drive. She looked – then stared.
It was the Duke of Wessex. And Meriel was riding with him.
She must attract his attention! Sarah tapped at the window, then realized Wessex
could not hear the faint sound. After an instant’s thought, she balled her fist up in a
fold of her dress and struck the glass with all her might Tinkling fragments showered
out into the cold morning air.
Wessex looked up. Sarah pressed her face to one of the unbroken panes, hoping
he would see her.
He stopped – and then swung himself and Meriel down from the horse’s back,
disappearing into the ornamental shrubbery near the chateau. He had seen.
What to do now? Sarah stared around wildly. She must find some way to get
Wessex inside – but the lower floors of the chateau were filled with armed soldiers.
Then I must go up.
A few minutes’ search found the stairs that led to the higher floors, and once on a
higher level, Sarah squirmed out through a window and stepped onto the roof.
The slates beneath her feet were cold and wet; as smooth as glass. Her
stockinged toes curled around the wet slates, seeking purchase, as she clutched at a
chimney top for support The countryside stretched out far below her, as tiny and
unreal as a toy. Where was Wessex?
There was someone else on the roof with her; Sarah could hear scrabbling as
someone clambered over the slippery slates. Sarah temporarily abandoned her
search for Wessex and went in search of the intruder.
He was clean shaven and dressed in an unfamiliar green military uniform, his hair
dyed an unnatural yellow. At the flutter of her dress in the morning breeze, he
glanced up.
„Ah… the Duchess of Wessex, I presume?“ Illya Kosciusko said.
A few moments later all of them were standing in the small room that Sarah had
originally used as her egress onto the roof. She’d hugged Meriel, and assured the girl
that Louis was indeed here, alive, and well – though Geoffrey Highclere’s prisoner at
the moment „Though I do not think Mr. Highclere will shoot him. He is waiting for
Talleyrand to return from Paris – after that, I do not know what will happen.“
„And before that, we will be gone,“ Wessex announced. „Sarah, you and Meriel
go with Koscuisko, and – “
„No.“ Sarah’s refusal was flat and unequivocal. „I’m not going to be whisked out
of sight and out of trouble and leave you here to die. It will take all of us to save
Louis. And there is something I must tell you, Your Grace – but not right now.“
„I am relieved to hear it,“ Wessex said dourly. He looked at Koscuisko and
shrugged. „As you wish, Duchess. We shall confound the enemy together. Places,
then, ladies and gentleman. The show is about to begin.“
* * *
„I hope you will find your new accommodations… suitable, Your Majesty,“
Geoffrey Highclere sneered. He swung the barred door closed and thrust the iron
bar through the slots.
He hadn’t dared risk a shot at the Duchess with Louis blocking the way: his life
wouldn’t be worth a lead sovereign if the Black Priest returned to discover that
Geoffrey had executed the King of France. His shouts had brought reinforcements,
however, and he’d sent the chausseurs off after the damnable Duchess, with orders
to turn the chateau inside out until they found her. Geoffrey wasn’t sure how she’d
escaped, but he had no intention of allowing Louis to duplicate the Duchess’s trick.
He had brought Louis down to the lowest level of the ancient part of the castle. In
medieval times, the Due whose castle this had been had kept prisoners here; his
descendants had found better use for the space as a wine cellar. But this section of
the old dungeons was too damp for the convenient storage of casks and the wooden
racks upon which bottles of fine vintage might repose. So this archaic dungeon had
been left very much alone, much to its current owner’s delight. Upon occasion,
Talleyrand had cause to make use of this most unhealthy place, and in his absence,
Geoffrey Highclere had felt it would be just the thing to cow – and secure – an
unruly captive.
„I will find my accommodations familiar, at any rate,“ Louis retorted. „Take care
that I do not take a chill upon the lungs and expire before you can make use of me.“
Louis retreated to the far corner of the cell, and kicked disgustedly at the moldy
straw that lay in stinking, slimy piles upon the damp stone floor. „I console myself
with the knowledge that whatever my fate, the Duchess has won her freedom.“
„Not for long,“ Geoffrey snarled. „And once I have her back, I shall see which of
these antiques can be rendered serviceable once more.“
It was’a fine line to exit upon, but Geoffrey had taken Louis’s words to heart
also, and so he spent a further few minutes lighting the cressets in the iron baskets
upon the walls, and lighting the coals in the braziers.
Louis stood at the back of, his cell until he heard Highclere’s footsteps fade from
hearing, then came forward to examine the door. The bottom half of the barrier was
iron-sheathed wood, with a slot in it for a tray. The top half was open, secured by
iron bars as thick as a strong man’s thumb. Leaning against the bars, Louis gazed
out at an identical row of cells opposite him. The air stank of damp, burning coals,
and rotting straw. With gallows humor, Louis wondered whether he could manage to
sicken and die before Bonaparte’s First Minister returned to question him.
He hoped the Duchess had gained her freedom.
There was a sound, but not from the stairs that Highclere had so lately ascended.
Ah, Mon Dieu, let there not be rats….
It had been a stroke of luck to overhear Mr. Highclere explaining where he had
put Louis, for Sarah had a very good idea that the curving stairs she had tried before
must be a back way into the dungeon. She had tried to lead Wessex and Meriel
along them, but soon the stairs had narrowed so much that Wessex could not pass.
He had told them to go on while he sought for another way and returned up the
stairs, leaving Sarah and Meriel the candle to light their way.
Soon the passageway narrowed even further, so that the two women had to inch
along it sideways, and Sarah began to fear that the stone walls would narrow to the
point that she and Meriel were trapped. The candleflame danced wildly in the cold
draft blowing up from below, and Sarah reluctantly passed the taper back to Meriel
for safekeeping, for if it blew out they had no way to relight it.
The passage was so narrow that Sarah could not reach across herself to pass the
candle back; instead she stretched both hands up over her head and Meriel did the
same, passing the burning taper over their heads. She felt Meriel's fingers glide over
hers and seize the candle firmly. Sarah released it and lowered her arms.
And a sudden gust of air snuffed the flickering taper before Meriel could lower it
to safety.
„Pray pay it no mind,“ Sarah said, as soothingly as she could manage in the
sudden darkness. „It is not as if we are likely to lose our way.“
Meriel produced a shaky giggle, though Sarah could feel the girl trembling with
both cold and fear. „This will teach me, I suppose, to make pacts with the Fair
Ones,“ Meriel said aloud.
„Well, at least you are here,“ Sarah offered, though she could think of no good
reason that anyone in their right mind would wish to be here. The darkness was so