TW04 The Zenda Vendetta NEW (24 page)

Her boots sloshed in fetid water up to her calves as she proceeded down the musky passageway, using her laser to clear the rodents out of her path. It was like walking through a sewer. The smell was overpowering. Once, her foot touched something that slithered away beneath the surface of the water, making ripples with its passage. She suppressed a shudder, steeling herself against the mounting nausea.

Something dropped down off the ceiling and scuttled through her hair. She made frantic brushing motions and finally dislodged whatever it was. She didn’t want to know.

At the end of the passageway, which was only slightly wider than her shoulders, there was a short flight of steps. She climbed them slowly, for they were very slick with slime. Her feet had left the water by the time she reached: the third step and, after six steps more, she came to a small landing and a sharp turn to her right. The rats receded before her like a furry brown wave, screaming in protest. She killed the more aggressive ones. There were so many, she could not avoid stepping on their bodies as she moved forward. Some of them still squirmed.

There was another passageway at the top of this second flight of steps. She used her sword to clear away the spider webs that had been painstakingly reconstructed since her last passage here. She passed heavy wooden doors fastened upon rust-encrusted hinges, the barred windows in them covered with a patina of corrosion. Behind those small yet heavily constructed doors, ancient bones of prisoners who had been long forgotten even while they lived gave mute testimony to unremembered crimes and sentences. In one cell, a brown skeleton hung suspended from manacles set deep into the wall, its head bent down in shame, its jaws agape in a never-ending silent scream. At the end of this passageway, there was one door that had fallen into the cell, deprived of the support of its aged hinges, which had been burned through.

The cell was tiny, no more than a cubicle. Falcon had to bend down low to enter it, stepping upon the fallen door. Rats so large their tails looked like snakes glared at her ferociously. She killed several and the rest retreated from her, all save one which crouched upon the small case on the floor and snarled at her. She put away her laser, took out her sword and slashed at the creature viciously. The rat avoided the swift stroke, leaping off the case and darting into a small fissure in the wall.

She crouched down and set her light upon the floor, opening the case. She assembled the border circuits on the floor of the cell and set the plate for time and destination, programming the transition coordinates from the chronoplate’s data file. Then she checked the plate’s remote unit and slipped it into her pocket. Now, in the event that anything went wrong, their second chronoplate was preset with the coordinates for her escape. Drakov did not know its location. It was just as well that, his usefulness to her was almost at an end. He was becoming quite difficult to control. If not tonight, she thought, then soon. Very, very soon. She could sense it. She did not know what it was, whether it was merely a strong intuition or the perception of the confluence of forces gathering together. She had a strong sense of imminence and every nerve fiber in her body fairly tingled with anticipation. She removed the other remote from her other pocket, the one slaved to the chronoplate up in the turret. Drakov had not been there when she had clocked in. Out wandering through the castle corridors again, she thought wryly. The man was becoming an emotional basket-case. At least he had had the sense to take the security monitor along with him.

She heard a scuttling behind her and turned quickly to see several large rats converging upon her from the corners of the cell. She stood quickly, almost hitting her head on the low ceiling, slashing at them with her sword: One of them darted close inside and fastened onto the toe of her boot. She kicked it off, then hit the switch on the remote. The first thing that she saw upon materializing in the turret was the form of Andre Cross, tied down onto the cot. Drakov sat casually upon the other cot, his eyes on the screen of the security monitor.

She smiled broadly. “So,” she said, “it’s happening at last” Drakov glanced up at her expressionlessly. “She was nosing about in a small boat just outside the king’s cell.”

“Well done, Nicky,” she said. “Any sign of the others?”

“Priest just climbed the wall and entered the south tower. No sign of Forrester or Delaney.”

“Then they’ll be attacking on two fronts,” she said. “Delaney will make a try for the king while the others concentrate on us. It’s just as I anticipated. Excellent. Excellent.” She glanced at Andre.

“Andre Cross,” she said. “I’ve been waiting a long time to meet you.” Andre stared at her, saying nothing.

“Your friends and I have an old score to settle,” Falcon said, “but it will have to wait. There’s one other little matter to be taken care of before I can get around to you. I’ll be back soon, Nicky.”

“Where are you going?” he asked, surprised that she was leaving now that the commandos were making their move at last.

“There’s plenty of time,” she said. “Relax. I’ll be back after I kill the king.”

“Remember,” Finn told von Tarlenheint, “the moment that the drawbridge comes down, give Sapt the signal and then ride to join the assault.”

“You can count on me,” said Fritz.

“Remember one thing more,” said Finn. “Hentzau’s foremost concern will be that you and Sapt must die. Neither of you must lead the attack, for if you do, Hentzau will shoot you down.”

“I’ll have a hard time convincing Sapt,” said von Tarlenhelm. “You know how he is.”

“Tell him that with the king’s life at stake, this can be no time for heroics,” Finn said. “He’s no fool; he’ll see that.”

“Rassendyll,” said Fritz, reaching out and taking Finn by his upper arm. “May the Lord protect you.” Finn smiled. “And you, Fritz.”

He lowered himself into the moat. The water was chilly, but not uncomfortably cold. Finn breaststroked slowly and strongly across the water, taking care to make no splashing sounds. He swam straight towards the lighted section of the castle, just to the side of the massive portcullis. On the first floor of the castle, some fifteen to twenty feet above the surface of the moat, the lights were on in several of the windows of the new addition to the castle. Recent changes had been made to it, most notably in the installation of actual glass-paned windows, capable of being opened outward. It was towards one of these windows that Finn swam, the third one from the corner. As he came closer, he saw that it was opened and, as agreed upon with Rupert Hentzau, a rope hung from it, trailing down into the moat. He grasped it firmly and began to climb up the side of the wall, hand over hand, bracing himself with his legs.

He paused just below the window and listened. Then, hearing nothing, he climbed a bit higher and peered in.

It was a large and ornate chamber that had been turned into a bedroom. A thick, opulent carpet covered the stone floor, leaving an open border for about a foot around it near the walls. Several paintings of moustachioed and bearded military men hung upon the walls. The illumination was provided by several oil lamps, with a number of large hanging lamps for mineral oil and candles being suspended from the ceiling by chains. The room contained a large stone fireplace, with tongs, pokers, and a coal scuttle beside it. There were two old broadswords crossed high over the mantel, below a medieval shield emblazoned with the Elphberg coat of arms. There were two armchairs upholstered in plush purple velvet to either side of the fireplace and a settee somewhat to one side, similarly upholstered. Directly across from him was a handsome sideboard that held a number of ceramic pieces and several bottles of what appeared to be port. Beside the bottles there were several glasses and a gasogene. There was also a marble-topped washstand with jugs and basins on it and, on the opposite side of the room, against the wall, a large canopied bed upon which Rupert Hentzau reclined, fully dressed, smoking a cigarette and staring at the ceiling. He was alone inside the room.

“
Hentzau!”
Finn whispered.

Hentzau sat up in bed and glanced towards the window. “Ah, it’s you, play-actor! Have a pleasant swim?”

“Never mind the witticisms, just help me in,” said Finn.

Hentzau came over to the window and stood there, looking at Finn clinging to the rope. He grinned, made a small “gun” with his thumb and forefinger and made a popping sound with his mouth,

“You see?” he said. “How easily I could have dissolved our partnership. Perhaps now you will trust me a little more.”

“I’ll trust you to help inside,” said Finn.

Hentzau reached out and took Finn’s hand, pulling him into the room. He then untied the rope and let it drop into the moat.

“You’re dripping on the carpet,” he said. “You’d best change, unless you wish to leave a trail of water behind you. My clothes will be tight on you, but I think that we can manage to squeeze you into a pair of Michael’s boots and breeches and perhaps one of my larger shirts. This was Michael’s room, you know. I’ve decided that he would be more comfortable in my old quarters. They’re a trifle smaller, but then I don’t think he will protest. I’ve locked him in.”

While Finn changed into the white breeches, high black boots, and loose, flowing white shirt that Hentzau gave him, Rupert quickly explained the situation to him.

“The king is in the dungeon directly below us,” he said, “the first room off the stairs. There is a guardroom outside it, where Detchard and Krafstein will be stationed now. The way to reach it is by going out the door here, turning to your left, going down the corridor and across the main hall of this part of the castle. You will see several passageways leading off this hall. The largest one, with the great vaulted arch above it, leads to the main section of the castle. The one you want is immediately to its left.

It leads to a stairway going down to the lower level, the upper level of the dungeons. It isn’t even properly a dungeon. They were once servants’ quarters and have now been converted to hold a considerably more illustrious tenant. The actual dungeons are below the main section of the castle, but they need not concern you. You would not wish to go down there in any case; they are teeming with rats.

You will have to watch yourself when you cross the hall. I will try and make the way clear for you, but you shall be completely in the open and you will have to move quickly. Should anyone see you, I will do my best to prevent an outcry, but it would be better all around if you avoided being seen. Now, once you have reached the stair, you go down one flight and you will reach a landing. From there, the stairs turn sharply to the left. At the bottom, you will be near the entrance to the guardroom. I suggest that you pause upon that first landing and listen carefully. If the way seems clear, proceed down to the bottom.

Take care to look before you step off the bottom stair. If either Detchard or Krafstein are anywhere near the middle of the room, they will be bound to see you. You will need to find a place of concealment.

There is a short passage of sorts, a hall between the bottom of the stairs and the guardroom itself. It is no more than seven or eight feet long and there are no doors there. However, if you press yourself against the wall on either side, just before the archway, you will be in a shadowed corner and more or less hidden from sight. Once you have gotten that far, your greatest problem will be if either Krafstein or Detchard should decide to go upstairs for any reason. If they do, they cannot avoid seeing you. In that case, you will lose the advantage of surprise with one of them, at least.

“Here is a pistol for you. I advise you to shoot Detchard first. I do not know if he carries his pistol on him, but he always carries a knife and his reactions are devilishly quick. Hell have that knife in you before you blink. So I advise you not to miss. As for Krafstein, he always goes armed, but he is nowhere near as quick as Detchard. He does, however, shoot well. Think you can handle it, Play-actor?”

“Just make sure you do your part,” said Finn, “If that drawbridge does not come down, I’ll make certain to save a bullet for you.”

“If the drawbridge does not come down,” said Hentuu, with a grin, “then save that bullet for yourself.

It will mean that I have died in the attempt and I would advise you to kill yourself rather than be taken by the countess. That’s a bitch with a thirst for blood that is unmatched. She once showed a bit too keen an interest in the implements of torture down there. I believe she chafes to try than out on someone.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” said Finn.

“Are your people in position?”

“By now, they should be,” Finn said. “The lowering of the drawbridge will be their signal to attack.”

“Good. Once you have achieved the stair, I shall count to twenty, then lower the bridge. It shall be rather noisy, I’m afraid, so you had best be ready.”

“What about the others?”

“You leave than to me. Just dispose of Krafstein and Detchard as quickly as you can, then enter the king’s cell and do away with him. There is a grate across the window of his cell that swings away.

Beyond it is a pipe. Place the king’s body in the pipe and weight it, you will fund all you need there ready to hand. Once the king has gone into the moat, release the pipe and it shall drop in after him. Then, Your Majesty, hasten to me, for I will require protection from your friends.”

“Very well,” Finn said, nodding. “When do we go?”

Hentzau walked over to the door, opened it, peered out then nodded at Finn. “Now,” he said.

Albert Lauengran reached the top of the stairs, glanced quickly down the hall, and then moved swiftly to the door of Hentsn’s old room. He paused, listened, then turned the key In the lock and swung open the door.

Michael Elphberg was sitting on the edge of the bed, bent over, his head in his hands. When Lauengram came in, he looked up quickly. His fact was puffed and bruised. His nose was splayed across his features at an odd angle and several of his teeth were missing. Both his lips were cut.

“So,” he said, “they’ve sent you to do me in, have they?”