of his arm, trying to wrest the pistol from his hand. Stephano’s pistol went off. Dubois gave a cry and clapped his hand over his shoulder and staggered backward.
Red Dog knocked Stephano to the floor and tried to get his hands around Stephano’s throat. Miri entered the room to find the two men wrestling and rolling about. She grabbed hold of a chair and smashed it over Red Dog’s head. He groaned and rolled off Stephano, who heaved himself to his feet. Miri bashed Red Dog in the head with the chair’s leg. He went down and did not get up.
Below, the landlord was out in the street, blowing a whistle, summoning the constables. More footfalls sounded on the stairs. Stephano motioned for Miri to wait behind the door with the chair leg, ready to bash whoever came in. Stephano hurried over to Dubois, who had collapsed into a chair. He was still conscious, his hand pressed against right shoulder. Blood welled out from beneath his fingers.
Stephano gave the wound a cursory examination. “You’ll live. The bullet took out a hunk of meat, that’s all. On your feet. We need to get out of here. I’m sure you don’t want to deal with the police any more than I do.”
Dubois didn’t budge. “Left pocket.”
“There’s no time-” Stephano began.
“Look in my left pocket, Captain,” said Dubois sternly, indicating with a nod the coat he was wearing.
Stephano glared at him, then, thinking Dubois might have some sort of document that would placate the authorities, Stephano reached into Dubois’ coat.
“The leather case,” Dubois instructed. Lifting his left arm slightly to allow Stephano access, he gasped in pain and kept pressure on the wound. Stephano was drawing out the case, when Dag came running into the room, his musket in his hands.
“Stephano, I heard about Miri-” he cried, just as Miri emerged from behind the door, brandishing the chair leg.
“What are you doing here?” Dag gasped, goggling at Miri.
“What are you doing here?” Miri demanded.
Doctor Ellington didn’t wait to find out what anyone was doing here. The cat leaped off Dag’s shoulder and made a run for the stairs. Gythe, coming in behind Dag, reached down and deftly scooped up the fleeing Doctor before he shot out the door.
“Oh, my God,” Stephano groaned.
He had been reading the document he had just removed from the leather billfold. He looked from Dag to Miri to Red Dog, who was rubbing his head and staring around groggily, to Dubois, bleeding on the sofa.
“What’s gone wrong now?” Miri demanded in dire tones.
“This man… uh… works for the Church. He’s Grand Bishop Montagne’s agent.” Stephano heaved a sigh and ran his hand through his hair.
“You just shot an agent for the grand bishop?” Miri cried, scandalized.
“I didn’t mean to!” said Stephano.
Gythe frowned, touching her lips and making a face as though tasting something bad.
“Maybe he’s lying,” Miri translated.
“Read the paper on the desk,” Dubois instructed. He closed his eyes and bit his lip against the pain.
“Gythe,” said Stephano, “keep watch.”
Gythe and the Doctor went over to the window, while Miri hurried to examine the document.
“It’s from the grand bishop,” said Miri. “The document instructs the archbishop and Lord Mayor of Westfirth to close the harbor. It’s signed and sealed…”
Her brow furrowed. “But if this man, Dubois, is working for the bishop, then why did Russo tell us that Dubois was working for Sir Henry Wallace?”
“Wallace!” Dubois cried, his eyes opening. He sat up in the chair. “What about Wallace?”
Stephano didn’t answer. He was staring at Dag, suddenly realizing amidst the confusion that the mercenary was in the room.
“Dag, what are you doing here?” Stephano demanded.
“Russo told me Miri and Gythe had been kidnapped,” Dag said wretchedly. “He told me you needed help…”
His voice trailed off.
“Where’s Rigo?” Stephano asked tensely.
“He didn’t come with me,” said Dag. “He didn’t want me to leave. He must have known… Oh, God, Stephano! Now I know where I’ve seen that Russo before! I kept thinking he looked familiar. At the ambush at Bitter End! He was the man in the greatcoat… I saved his goddamn life!”
“And Father Jacob told us that man was Henry Wallace. So this Russo is really Sir Henry Wallace and now Wallace has hold of Alcazar and Rodrigo,” said Stephano.
“I’m sorry, sir,” said Dag miserably, “That bastard fooled me completely.”
“Don’t blame yourself,” said Stephano. “He fooled all of us.”
Gythe, standing at the window, snapped her fingers to draw their attention. She pointed down at the street and made a gesture with her hands intimating the tall hats worn by the constables.
“I think I’ll just let them arrest me,” said Stephano. “They can charge me with being an idiot. I’ll plead guilty.”
“You can’t stay here. You have to stop Wallace, Captain,” said Dubois sharply. “Alcazar must not reach Freya!”
“And how do you propose I do that, sir?” Stephano demanded bitterly. “The constables are on their way up the stairs and Sir Henry Wallace is on his way to the docks and he’s holding my friend hostage!”
“That friend would be Monsieur de Villeneuve?” asked Dubois.
“You seem to know all about me,” said Stephano grimly. “Yes, my friend is Monsieur de Villeneuve.”
“Ironic,” murmured Dubois. “It was Sir Henry Wallace who gave the order to have Ambassador de Villeneuve assassinated. I don’t suppose your friend knows that.”
“No,” said Stephano. “Probably just as well he doesn’t.”
“I will deal with the constables, Captain,” said Dubois. “Go into the bedroom. Enter the wardrobe. Inside is a false back that opens onto a staircase which leads to the servants’ quarters. Exit through the kitchen door into a secluded garden. From that point, you are on your own.”
Stephano motioned for everyone to do as Dubois said. Dag led the way, with Gythe and Miri and the Doctor following. Stephano remained a moment. He could hear the constables pounding up the stairs. “I am sorry I shot you, Monsieur. I don’t suppose you have any idea where Henry Wallace might be going?”
Dubois gave a faint smile. “Pietro Alcazar has a brother, Manuel. He serves on a merchant vessel docked in the Foreign Commons. The name of the ship is the Silver Raven.”
Stephano was halfway through the bedroom door when he stopped, turned around. “You’re going to order the navy to sink that vessel, aren’t you?”
Dubois inclined his head. “Alcazar must not be permitted to reach Freya alive, Captain.”
“Give me a chance,” Stephano pleaded. “Let me try to capture the vessel and keep everyone alive, including Alcazar and Rodrigo.”
Dubois gave a faint smile. “God go with you, Captain. And give your esteemed mother my regards.”
Stephano slammed the door shut behind him and pretended he had not heard. He waited a moment to make certain Dubois did not betray them. He listened to the constables enter. Dubois gave them some sort of story about thieves and told them that the man who had shot him had gone out the window.
Stephano could not risk waiting longer. He entered the wardrobe, passed through the false back, and hurried down the dark and narrow stairs that led from the servants’ quarters in the top of the inn to the kitchen area below. He found his friends waiting for him in a garden surrounded by a high wrought-iron fence and tall walnut trees whose intertwined branches effectively shielded them from view of the constables.
Stephano opened the garden gate carefully, afraid the hinges would creak. The hinges were silent, and he noticed they’d been oiled. Dubois thought of everything. Stephano and his friends filed quietly out. The two nuns walked demurely down the street away from the inn. Stephano and Dag with the Doctor back in his accustomed place on his shoulder strolled along behind.
Glancing over his shoulder, Stephano saw constables up on the roof, while others took up positions in the front of the inn. More would be inside, continuing to talk to the grand bishop’s agent, Monsieur Dubois, who was
