left to watch the back of the hotel. He was staring at the back door so intently that they were nearly upon him before he realized.
He was more boy than man. His sword wavered; he was scared out of his wits.
Charles, in the lead, heaved a huge sigh, abruptly stepped and lunged, and with one quick flick sent the boy’s sword flying off into the stable. Charles looked at the boy. “Boo!” The boy jerked; trembling, he just stared. Charles took another step, waved his arms, his bloodied sword. “Go! Run away! Off!”
With a strangled shriek, the boy turned and fled.
He bumped into, caromed off, another larger figure as he rounded the corner to the riverbank path. The figure halted, glanced back at the fleeing boy, then came on.
The four of them had melted into the shadows of the stable before the man-friend or foe they couldn’t tell in the darkness-came trudging up. He paused just outside the stable door to peer up and down the lane, then turned inside-and found Charles’s sword point at his throat.
David yelped and staggered back, but then he saw who they were and his face split in a huge grin. “You’re all right! Praise the Lord.” He looked at Deverell. “I’m right glad to see you hale and whole, m’lord. M’lady said she’d skin me alive if’n I brought you back any other way.”
The thought-of what poor David could possibly have done to avert Deverell’s death at the hands of the assassins they’d just faced-made Linnet laugh. And then the four of them were laughing. David just stood there, simply pleased to have made them smile.
When they recovered, they made plans.
They decided that delaying to explain to the local authorities just what had taken place, and their part in it, especially the carnage in the alley, would see them stuck in Bedford for days.
Logan and Linnet sneaked back upstairs to retrieve all their bags for David to take in the carriage. Deverell had already told David the route they’d been intending to follow. “Stick to that.” Deverell handed over a purse. “You can pay our shot here, then go on to Elveden. Tell the manager that the horses we’re appropriating will be returned safe and sound within four days, and if you run into any problems, just say you’re operating under orders from the Duke of Wolverstone.”
“That name,” Charles put in, “is guaranteed to get you out of any tight spot.”
They found four decent horses. Charles and Deverell saddled them up. “Astride all right for you?” Charles asked Linnet.
She nodded. “Please.”
Charles didn’t argue, just obliged. There was a lot to be said, Linnet thought, for well-conditioned gentlemen.
And then they were away. They’d got no sleep, but their blood was still up from the fight. It would be a while before any of them calmed enough for slumber; they might as well do what they could to track the one responsible.
If he led them to the Black Cobra so much the better.
They headed out of town and, under the light of the waning moon, took the most direct route to Cambridge, a secondary road that cut through the fields and fens. While they couldn’t be certain of their quarry’s route, they assumed the Black Cobra was lurking somewhere beyond Cambridge, in the general direction of Elveden.
A few hundred yards past the last cottage of Bedford, Logan, who had been studying the surface of the road, pointed to tracks ahead, visible where they broke through a hardening crust of frost. “Two riders, not long ago.” He slowed to look more closely. “One first, then the other. Separate, not together. Both large, powerful horses going at a steady gallop.”
“What are the chances one of them’s our man?” Charles said.
“Excellent, I’d say,” Deverell replied. “Who else would be out riding in the wee small hours in this icy weather?”
“But who’s the second rider?” Linnet asked.
“No idea.” Lifting his head, Logan looked across the flat, open fields. In the faint moonlight, it was a chill and somewhat eerie sight. The skies were inky black, cloudless; the cold was steadily intensifying. The morning would be crisp and clear. “A guard, perhaps. It doesn’t matter. With this frost thickening, if we keep a steady pace, with luck we might come up with our man. Or even better, follow him to his lair.”
They resettled their coats and cloaks, then shook their reins and rode on, buoyed by the knowledge that, regardless of all else, they were nearing journey’s end.
Daniel had ridden from Bedford in wild triumph. Once out of the town, he’d let the black have its head and the first mile had flashed by. But then caution reasserted its hold. Even though it was the small hours, no one needed to remember a madman thundering past.
So he eased the horse back to a steady gallop.
He crossed the Great North Road and continued on between the flat, empty fields toward Cambridge. His most direct route to Bury, and Alex, lay via the university town, then through Newmarket beyond.
As the euphoria of relief combined with success slowly faded to an inner glow, he reassessed, yet the relief and the jubilation of success still lingered. He wondered how many of his men had been killed or captured-taken up by the people of Bedford and handed over to the authorities. Alex wouldn’t care how many cultists-assassins or foot soldiers-he’d lost, just as long as he had the letter to show for it. And none of those who’d been with him, not even his guard, knew his name, let alone Alex’s.
Most had known Roderick’s name, but with Roderick dead, that no longer mattered.
He glanced back once, wondering when his guard would rejoin him, but they’d doubtless be a while yet. He’d noticed the woman-had heard confused reports that Monteith was traveling with one in his train, along with a ship’s captain who had caused untold problems for the cultists patrolling the Channel-but other than his two guards, Monteith had had only the woman with him… but she’d been carrying a cutlass, and had been wearing breeches under her cloak.
After a moment, he shook his head, shaking aside the questions, along with imagined visions of what his guard were very likely, at that very moment, doing in the little yard. He would have liked to have spent an hour or two learning more about the woman, from the woman, all in front of Monteith, but duty called. His guard would doubtless enjoy doing the job in his stead; they would report to him later.
Roderick had been vicious, but in a plebian way. He-Daniel-was much more inventive, much more imaginative.
Alex, however, could trump them both.
Their relationship, although close, was, beneath all, a battle for supremacy-they were their father’s get. With the letter resting comfortably in his coat pocket, Daniel rode on through the night, lips curving lasciviously as he plotted what he would claim as his due for the night’s success-what he would make Alex do to suitably reward him.
A lex hung back at a safe distance and followed in Daniel’s wake. Knowing where he was ultimately headed meant Alex had little fear of losing him. Meanwhile, by keeping in his wake, Alex could watch for any signs of pursuit.
As of that moment, with the spires of Cambridge rising out of the fens ahead, dense shadows against the night sky, there’d been no hint of any followers. And the further they got from Bedford, and the more hours passed, the prospect of active pursuit became progressively less likely.
Regardless, Alex continued to play safe, to ride a watchful distance behind. No matter their relationship-and not even Alex could specify exactly what that was-no matter that Alex could rely on Daniel, appreciated him, valued him, and didn’t want to lose him, nevertheless Alex would not permit even Daniel to risk Alex’s neck.
When Daniel slowed, Alex slowed. From the shadows of a copse, Alex watched as Daniel unwound the black silk scarf from about his neck and stuffed it into a pocket before lifting his reins and riding on.
Alex approved. Even though there would be few awake and aware at that hour, there might be some-and no one needed to see a gentleman like Daniel sporting the cult’s principal insignia.
After a moment of silent debate, Alex opted to skirt the town and pick up Daniel as he emerged again, on the road to Newmarket. Riding around via the darkened country lanes, Alex calculated that it would be some way
