TW04 The Zenda Vendetta NEW (22 page)

“Undoubtedly,” said Finn, thinking that it was the understatement of the year, if not the century.

“She is very beautiful, though, is she not?” said Flavia, not looking at him.

“I suppose,” said Finn, “if one cares for the type.”

“Do men . . .” she hesitated. “Do men find such women to be desirable?”

“I am sure that many do.”

“Do you?”

“That is an impertinent question.”

“Forgive me. I did not mean to be—”

“Oh, for goodness sake, I was only joking,” Finn said.

“Oh. I see.”

“In answer to your question, I will be frank. In a word, yes.”

“You are forthright, at least.”

“I had not finished. It is one thing to respond to a woman physically, and don’t blush. Remember that you asked.”

“I did, indeed.”

“And it is quite another thing to look beyond the senses and consider a woman—or a man, for that matter—for what goes on inside the head. In some cases, as was the case with me for far too long, I fear, nothing goes on at all. In others, what goes on within is a far cry from what appears without. In Countess Sophia’s case, I have the strong impression that what goes on within is very like snakes writhing.”

Flavia shuddered. “Lord, Rudolf, what a thought! I had not suspected that your imagination was so lurid.”

“Drink can do that to a man,” said Finn, wryly.

“And how do you perceive what goes on inside my own head?” she said, with a slight smile.

“To answer that would be impertinent of me,” said Finn.

“How diplomatically you avoid the question,” she said, chuckling.

“Diplomacy, in many situations, is merely a tool to prevent one’s looking foolish,” Finn said.

“How statesmanlike you are becoming!”

“It comes of spending hours on end with Sapt,” Finn said. “Once I began to actually listen to him, I discovered him to be the very font of wisdom.”

“I simply cannot stop marveling at the change in you,” she said. “You are like a different man.” She pursed her lips and cocked her head to one side, saying in a joking manner, “I am beginning to suspect that you are not Rudolf at all, but some imposter who is his double. Tell me the truth, what have you done with the
real
king?”

“The truth? He’s being kept in the dungeons of Zenda Castle. It’s all a plot of Michael’s.” The coach came to a halt before her house.

“That was a poor jest,” she said. “The way Michael looked at you tonight, I can almost believe that he would be capable of such a thing. Remember, Rudolf, that you have no heir as yet. If anything should happen to you, the throne would surely go to Michael.”

“Are you so frightened for me?” Finn said.

The sincerity in her face stabbed him to the heart. “You have changed so, Rudolf, almost overnight, it is as if . . . as if you
really
were another man. I feel as if we have met for the first time. You spoke of what appears without and what goes on within. Without, you are the same Rudolf I have always known and yet, within, I seem to sense a stranger, one who has shown me but little of himself, yet who compels me in a manner that I find both frightening and delightful. I feel as though I am only now starting to know you. I care about what happens to you, not only as my king, but as a man. Forgive me, but I did not think that such a thing would ever come to pass. I beg you to be watchful. Michael and those ruffians he has retained fill me with foreboding. Guard yourself well.”

She leaned forward quickly, kissed him on the lips, and then hurried from the coach. Finn stared after her for a long time before he directed the coachman to drive back to the palace.

Sapt and von Tarlenheim were waiting for him. Both men had dressed in dark-hued clothing, the better to provide concealment in the night. Von Tarlenheim tried once more, unsuccessfully, to dissuade him from keeping the mysterious appointment, then resigned himself to the inevitable. Finn quickly changed into clothing similar to theirs and they left by the secret passageway. Sapt pressed a revolver into Finn’s hand.

“Do not hesitate to use this if you find you must,” said Sapt. “Remember, if we lose you, then we lose everything.”

Finn took the revolver with a smile. “Thank you for your concern,” he said, laconically.

“Don’t be a fool,” said Sapt. “You know damn well what I mean. Our first concern is for the throne, as it must be, but I would not wish to lose a friend, as well.” They rode on horseback to Michael’s house, reining in a short distance away from the wall that circled the estate.

“This is as far as you two go with me,” said Finn. “If all goes well, I shall return shortly and we will ride to Zenda.”

“And if not?” said von Tarlenheim, nervously.

“I promise to be careful. But just in case, you have your watch?”

“Right here.”

“If I do not return in half an hour, then you can assume the worst,” said Finn. “It will then be up to you to free the king.”

“Come what may,” said Sapt, “we make our move tonight. Good fortune to you.” Finn dismounted and crossed the street, heading for the entrance that the letter specified. He felt very much alone. Taking a chance, he tried raising Lucas and Andre on his comset. From where he was, the safehouse was within range, but there was no response. He nodded to himself. All right, then, they were proceeding on their own, as he had thought they would. The Timekeepers had to be their first concern.

He did not like not being able to contact them, but it was just as well. His had now become the secondary role in the mission. Theirs was far more difficult. They would be at Zenda Castle, trying to find a way to get inside. Perhaps they were making their move at this very moment. If he was lucky, they might complete their part of the mission by the time that he arrived with von Tarlenheim and Sapt. Then they could provide him with a backup if the need arose. If not . . . he decided not to think about if not.

It was dark and quiet in the garden, the only sounds coming from the crickets in the flower beds.

Keeping to the side of the wall, he avoided the pathway, circling round to where he could see the little summerhouse. Sapt had briefed him on the layout. If Michael wanted to trap him here, he could not have picked a better spot. On the other hand, though he was sure it was a trap, it might not be Michael who had set it. On the chance that it was Falcon, he had to walk into it. He had seen her twice now and been helpless to act both times. The third time, he swore, would be the last.

He sank down to his knees, then sprawled flat on the ground, lying on his belly. It was thoughtful of Sapt to have provided him with a revolver, but he preferred the silence of the laser. He held it in his hand, ready to fire. Slowly, he crawled forward across the open space that separated the garden wall from the gazebo, approaching the small structure from the side, where its latticed wall would at least impede the visibility of anyone who might be inside. Assuming, of course, that anyone was in there waiting for him. If not, then he would not go in. Either way, the gazebo would be an easy target, especially to someone equipped with a night scope.

As he crawled forward, coming closer, he saw the glow of a cigarette inside the summerhouse. He frowned. Surely they would not be that sloppy, unless it was meant for him to see, to decoy him into a false sense of security. He was tempted to take a shot, but that would pinpoint his location to anyone who might be watching. He crept closer. He was beginning to sweat. A match flared briefly and he saw that it was Hentzau, leaning casually against the arched entrance of the summerhouse and smoking. He was close enough now that if he whispered, Hentzau would hear him. He spoke his name, once, softly.

Hentzau started slightly, peering out into the darkness. “Hello? Is that you, play-actor? Show yourself.”

“And be shot for my trouble?” Finn said, moving immediately as he spoke.

Hentzau chuckled. “You’re safe enough, Your Majesty,” he said, sarcastically. “I merely wish to speak with you. There is no one else about. They have all departed for the castle. Save for the servants in the house, you and I are quite alone.”

Finn hesitated.

“Look, I assume that you have not come unarmed,” said Hentzau. “You could shoot me easily.

Come, man, where are you?”

Finn bit his lower lip. What the hell, he thought, if you’re going to step into a trap, step into it. He stood, tensely, prepared to leap at once to either side.

“Ah, there you are,” said Hentzau. “Not very kingly, creeping about like that.”

“Was it you who sent the letter?” Finn said, putting the laser away and holding the revolver Sapt had given him so that Hentzau could see it. He looked at it without concern.

“You would not shoot me,” he said. He spread his arms out away from his sides. “You see, I am unarmed. Not even a sword. I left it in the house. Surely, an English gentleman would not slay an unarmed man?”

“Don’t bet on it,” said Finn. “I find the temptation very difficult to resist.”

“Do you? Well then, if you can manage to resist it for the next few moments, I have a proposition I would make to you. The duke offers you a million crowns and safe conduct across the frontier. What do you say to that?”

“That isn’t even a temptation,” Finn said.

“You refuse?”

“Of course.”

Hentzau grinned. “I told Michael that you would. I said that you would never trust him. Cigarette?”

“No, thank you.”

“As you will. Only trying to be friendly.”

“No need to try.”

“Has His Majesty done me the honor to fasten a particular quarrel on me?” said Hentzau, mockingly.

“You hardly seem worth the bother,” Finn said. “How is the king?”

“Alive,” said Hentzau. “For the time being, at least. Look here, I’ve made you a proposal from the duke, now hear one from me. Attack the castle boldly. Let Sapt and von Tarlenheim lead. Arrange the time with me.”

“I have such confidence in you,” Finn said, wryly.

“Tut, I’m talking business now. Sapt and von Tarlenheim will fall. Michael shall fall, as well. You can leave that to me. The king will take a short swim to the bottom of the moat and two men will be left—I, Rupert Hentzau, and you, the King of Ruritania. Think it over, play-actor. You could extend your tour indefinitely. Wouldn’t that be a hand to play? A throne and a pretty princess for yourself and for me, say, some small compensation out of His Majesty’s gratitude? This house, for example, and the chateau would do quite nicely.”

“I admire your loyalty to Michael,” Finn said.

“Loyalty is an admirable attribute,” said Hentzau. “In a hound. So long as my own interest can be served, what care I which side I throw in with? Consider the opportunity, Rassendyll. When will you ever get another such as this?”

“Where does the countess stand in all of this?” said Finn.

“Ah, you have deduced, of course, that she is with us,” Hentzau said. “A most fascinating woman, Countess Sophia is. The stories I could tell you. . .”

“Tell me a few,” said Finn.

“Really? Does that mean you are considering my offer?” “Let us say that I have not dismissed it out of hand,” said Finn, convinced now that Hentzau was acting on his own. He was clearly an opportunist, seeking to advance himself.

“Where does she fit in if I accept your offer?”

“Yes, well, she doesn’t, I’m afraid,” said Hentzau. “More is the pity. In a way, it would be a tragic waste, and yet, I am not so great a fool to think that I could manage her. There’s a woman that no man could manage. She sits securely in the saddle, that one. Poor Michael was unwise enough to strike her for something that she said to him tonight and, hard to believe though it may be, she beat him bloody.” Finn raised his eyebrows. “I believe it.”

“Do you really? Bersonin didn’t, poor chap. She killed him earlier this evening. Now she means to take charge of the whole affair and I believe she will, too. She’s a bit too unpredictable for my taste.

She’s all woman, but she speaks and fights like a man. No, the moat would be the best thing for her, I’m afraid. And we shall see to it that the others fall, as well. A clean slate, just you and I to divvy up the booty. What do you think?”

“I think that if you play your cards right, you could go very far,” said Finn. “This house and the chateau, you say? Is that all you would want?”

Hentzau smiled. “And the means to support same, say, a dukedom? For services rendered, don’t you know?”

“How would we explain the death of Michael? What reason would we give for attacking Zenda Castle? It seems to me that there are some flaws in your plan which you have not considered,” Finn said.

“In any great venture, there’s bound to be a certain element of risk,” said Hentzau. “We can concoct some sort of story. With all the principals disposed of, who will gainsay us?”

“I must admit that you intrigue me,” Finn said. “How many in the castle?”

“As of tonight, there will be Michael, though he’s feeling somewhat out of sorts I would imagine, Sophia, Lauengram, Krafstein, De Gautet, Detchard, and myself. I leave to join them presently. The chateau is staffed with servants, but they do not know what Michael is about and cannot be counted on to fight, in any case.”

“I do not care for the odds,” said Finn.

“The odds do not worry me,” said Hentzau. “They will not expect anything from me and in that lies my advantage.”

“Just the same,” said Finn, “I would prefer to take greater care of myself in this. Circumstances could arise in which your own best interests would become realigned with Michael’s, suddenly.”

“You would have to take that chance,” said Hentzau. “I will not insult you by asking you to trust me, but consider where my greatest benefit would lie.”

“Nevertheless, I would like it better if I could be there to encourage you,” said Finn. “Suppose that you could arrange to get me inside the castle. Then, at a given signal, I could have Sapt and von Tarlenheim start the attack. We could arrange to have the drawbridge lowered at the precise instant.

Then, in all the confusion, you and I could strike and they would be beset upon both sides.” Hentzau threw back his head and laughed. “By God, I like the way you think! We are cut from the same cloth, you and I. We understand each other.”