they spurred on their horses. They planned to catch up with the cab and simply shoot their victims once they were close.
Stephano faced to the front, keeping his eyes on the road. The horse was starting to tire, showing signs of being winded. The two men on relatively fresh horses would easily manage to catch the cab.
Stephano considered his options. They were grimly few. When his assailants arrived, he could jump from his seat onto one of them and knock the man off his horse. But that still left the other man and Piefer free to kill them.
The cab was heading into another curve, but this time Stephano didn’t have to worry about overturning. The weary horse had slowed his pace and they took the corner decorously. Rounding the curve, Stephano was startled to see that they had reached the outskirts of the city.
The road that led to the Church of Saint Charles was not much traveled. But the cab and those pursuing it were now going to be running into a stream of carts, wagons, horses, and pedestrians. The two assassins on horseback could weave their way through traffic faster than he could maneuver a cab.
Stephano looked over his shoulder again. Thinking the two assassins would increase their pace, he was surprised to see them dropping behind, apparently in response to some order from Piefer. They were conferring with him as he leaned down from the driver’s seat.
By Heaven, Stephano thought with elation, we might get out of this alive after all!
He arrived at an intersection. Several roads branched out from a single lane, all heading into the city. He needed to reach Canal Street, where the Cloud Hopper was docked. Stephano guided the horse onto the Street of Kings, a narrow thoroughfare that led into the heart of the city, as Rodrigo thrust open the trapdoor through which passengers communicated with the driver and shouted up at him.
“What are you doing? This street will be crowded at this time of day. You should take Cattle Market Road.”
“We like crowded streets,” Stephano shouted back. “The more people the better. Look behind us.”
“And get my head blown off?” Rodrigo asked, horrified.
“Just look,” Stephano yelled.
Rodrigo poked his head cautiously out of the carriage.
“They’re still there,” he reported. “They’re still chasing us.”
“Yes, but they’re not still shooting at us,” Stephano said. “They won’t risk firing into a crowd.”
At least, he hoped they wouldn’t risk it.
Rodrigo held up the pistol he’d recovered from the site of the duel and waved it in the air. “I found a hidden magical sigil on the firing mechanism! That’s what caused the gun to misfire! I told you I didn’t shoot it!”
Stephano thought the matter over as he continued to try to negotiate the cab through the traffic. Rodrigo had been meant to die in that duel. Valazquez had been supposed to kill him.
“Why in the name of all the saints and all the angels and God Himself would anyone go to this much trouble and expense to kill Rodrigo!” Stephano asked himself.
The Street of Kings was of one of the most heavily traveled roads in Evreux. Stephano was doing a fair job of driving the cab, and hoped he might actually be able to reach Canal Street when the horse decided enough was enough. Exhausted, in a bad mood, wanting only its stable and oats, the animal came to a dead stop in the middle of a busy intersection.
Stephano yelled and cajoled and plied the whip-to no avail. The horse stood with his head down, stubbornly refusing to budge. Traffic in all directions rolled to a standstill. Drovers with loads to deliver swore at Stephano and shook their fists. They were joined in their ire by the drivers of cabs and coaches and by their irate passengers. One drover even jumped off his wagon and came running toward Stephano with the idea of throttling him. Several pedestrians clustered about, attempting to deal with the horse, which added to the gridlock.
Stephano had no idea what to do. The carriage belonging to Piefer was caught in the snarl. But the two assassins on horseback were steadily pushing their way toward him.
Stephano flung the whip aside, dropped the reins, jumped out of the seat, and ran to the front of the cab.
“Get out!” he yelled at Rodrigo. “We’re walking!”
His friend stared at him in astonishment, wondering if he’d lost his mind, then he climbed out of the cab. Ignoring the swearing and irate shouts, Stephano and Rodrigo bolted for the sidewalk, which was now filled with interested spectators. The two elbowed and shoved and began to dodge and weave and push their way through the crowd.
Stephano looked back to see chaos had broken out in the intersection. The drover who had been going to fight Stephano was now taking on a fellow drover. Passengers were leaning out of the carriages. People were tugging on the horse. Traffic was backing up as far as he could see. Unless Piefer abandoned his carriage, he wasn’t going anywhere any time soon. The two assassins on horseback were trying their best to edge their way through the confusion, but without much better success.
Stephano paused a moment to go over a mental map of the city of Evreux in his head, trying to figure out the quickest route to the Cloud Hopper, which was docked along one of the canals that ran through the city.
He noticed people stopping to stare at him, but he assumed this was because he was filthy from running through graveyards and driving a cab with a crazed horse, so he did not give it much thought. He was about to say, “We can continue down this street to reach Canal,” when Rodrigo suddenly seized hold of him and dragged him into a dark alley.
“Why did you do that? We can’t stop, they’ll catch us!” Stephano said, annoyed.
“You’re bleeding,” said Rodrigo, pointing to Stephano’s left shoulder. “You’ve been shot.”
Stephano looked down to see a large amount of blood had soaked through both his shirt and his coat. That was why people had been staring at him.
“I’ll be damned,” he said.
“You didn’t know you’d been shot?” Rodrigo asked, amazed.
“I was trying to control that demonic horse,” said Stephano. “And thank you so much for telling me. I didn’t feel anything until you said something. Now it hurts like Hell!”
“Let me look.”
Rodrigo gingerly pulled aside the bloodstained coat. Stephano winced and gasped at the pain.
“I can’t see anything except blood,” Rodrigo told him. “Your shirt is plastered against the wound.”
“That’s probably stopped the bleeding,” said Stephano, gritting his teeth. “Don’t pull it off, or it will start again.”
“How bad is it?”
“The bullet didn’t hit a major artery, or I’d be dead by now,” said Stephano. “I don’t think it broke any bones. But, damn, it hurts! Do you see an exit wound?”
Rodrigo looked behind him and shook his head.
“Then the bullet must still be lodged in my shoulder.”
“Can you keep going?” Rodrigo asked worriedly.
“I don’t have much choice,” said Stephano, grimacing. “Take a look into the street. See what our friends are doing.”
Rodrigo peered around the corner of the building. “The two killers are now on foot, looking for us. I see Piefer’s carriage, but I can’t see him.”
“He’s probably on foot, as well. We have to reach Canal Street. I don’t suppose this alley cuts through to the next street over?”
Rodrigo ran down the alley and returned to report. “It’s a dead end. But I did find this.” He exhibited a woman’s linen underskirt and a man’s wool coat. “Found these on a clothesline. Don’t worry. I left a silver piece in the woman’s stocking as payment.”
Rodrigo tore up the underskirt to use as a sling, which he wrapped around Stephano’s arm. He eased off Stephano’s bloodstained coat and draped the wool coat over his shoulder.
“Now you won’t draw so much attention.”
“We can’t stay here,” said Stephano, once his arm was bandaged. “Piefer’s men will assume we’re hiding, and alleys will be the first place they’ll look. Our best chance is out there, mixing with the people.”
Rodrigo took one more look into the street. He reported that Piefer’s men had split up, one taking the north
