‘That’s why we need to find Namida and Little Frog. We’ll steal a canoe, slip down the lake, and have them help us find a way inland. Once we get close, it’s up to you to tell us which way Vikings would go.’

‘Not Vikings – Norsemen and Templars.’

‘And Welsh, woolly elephants, the lost tribes of Israel, copper miners from Atlantis, and Spaniards looking for El Dorado. It should be so crowded we’ll see their lights for miles.’

He smiled despite himself. ‘And of course, having been played a fool by one woman, you can’t wait to link us to another.’

‘I’m a little desperate, Magnus. Besides, she asked me to save her and told me her tribe has a stone tablet with mysterious writing. It could be a clue.’

‘Stone tablet? You didn’t tell me of this.’

‘You’re too excitable.’

‘Whereas you are proceeding with deliberate decorum.’

‘She’s a damsel in distress with a critical cipher. We kidnap her, escape, go home to her tablet, and finish your crazed quest.’

‘What if we run into Aurora and Cecil?’

‘They were at the north end of the Rendezvous and Red Jacket’s camp is at the south. All we have to do is hurry. I’ve thought it all through, I assure you.’

‘Thought it through? An hour ago, all you cared about was Aurora Somerset!’

He was, as I said, annoyingly corrective. ‘I’ve reformed.’

We stole a small canoe and paddled a few yards offshore to where I estimated Red Jacket’s band was camped. Here, presumably, is where Namida would be held. Hopefully most of the braves were off carousing. If we could stealthily pry the women away we should be able to keep ahead of any chase. In the last few weeks both Magnus and I had become quite the master paddlers, thanks to Pierre.

I’d miss the French voyageur, but it wasn’t fair to embroil him in my troubles. There was no time for goodbye, either, but when we had the hammer and ruled the world, or were rich as Croesus, or whatever, I’d send him a letter.

Song still echoed across the water as we glided into Red Jacket’s camp and crept ashore, I with my rifle, Magnus with his axe. ‘Put a hole in their canoe when we leave,’ I whispered. We crept like assassins.

Much to my relief there were just two Indian sentries curled in their blankets by a fire, apparently asleep. This lack of vigilance was explained by the fact that two smaller figures, upright and hooded with blankets, who sat with their backs against a tree a dozen paces further, were tethered to the trunk by a leather rope around their necks. The slaves had been tied up. I crawled near.

‘Namida!’ I whispered in French. ‘I’ve come to save you!’

She straightened at her name.

I sawed through the tether, pulled back the blanket, and leant in to kiss her.

Instead, I found myself staring into the muzzle of a pistol pointed at my nose.

‘You’re even stupider than I thought,’ said Aurora coolly, auburn ringlets cascading to her shoulders as the blanket fell away. ‘It’s boring to be so predictable.’

Tarnation. She was wearing her Indian blanket over a thin white chemise, and looked as voluptuous as ever. If it wasn’t for the pistol, the look of cold contempt, and her coupling with her cousin, I’d have been confused all over again. ‘Well, I can’t say that about you, can I?’

The other tied figure proved to simply be more blankets, stuffed and propped, that fell apart when Magnus reached out to free Little Frog.

There was a cock of hammers as Indians came up behind. A musket bore pushed into the joint between my skull and neck. Magnus was pinned to the ground with a buck’s knee on his backbone and a tomahawk poised above his temple. Cecil Somerset stepped into view, too: coatless, sleeves tied back for fencing, his unsheathed rapier glowing in the moonlight. He looked lean and dashing.

‘I actually prefer that you’re predictable, Mr Gage. We assumed that if you weren’t playing the dunce for Aurora, you’d be after that pretty squaw.’

Slowly I began to rise, but Red Jacket snapped an order and two warriors grasped my arms to keep me pinned, a third yanking away my rifle and a fourth trussing my hands behind my back. Unfortunately, I didn’t have any chocolates this time.

‘You seem to have forgotten I’m on a mission of diplomacy.’

‘And you seem to have forgotten there’s a difference between being a diplomat and being a spy and a Peeping Tom.’

‘It’s just that you and your cousin seemed so occupied that I thought I should hire a different guide. Namida has less peculiar tastes.’

‘Aurora is not my cousin, Mr Gage.’

‘Ah. So is anything about the pair of you true at all? Are you even aristocrats?’

‘She’s my sister.’

I heard Magnus gasp and then grunt as someone kicked him.

‘That’s disgusting!’

‘So they said in England, but then ordinary mortals know nothing of the power of true love. Half-sister, actually. Is it so strange that we’d share tastes and an attraction? Our dissolute father had strange perversions of his own, and we allied against the monster even as we were seduced by him. We think he may have poisoned both our mothers and rutted indiscriminately with all manner of creatures when he wasn’t gambling away our inheritance. Inevitably, our sibling alliance against him was empowered by real affection. Society condemns us for it, but Cagliostro’s Egyptian Rite understood and encouraged it. Here, in the wild, we can indulge it. You’ll understand that we don’t announce it casually on first acquaintance.’

‘It’s incestuous! Illegal! Contemptible!’

‘It’s holy, by the pagan rites of ancient pharaohs, kings, and druids. Holy because we alone know our love is true, and because we’ve had to risk everything, including this exile, to live it. You have no idea what depth of feeling is. Yes, I heard how you let the Egyptian woman go, idiot. Now you’ll suffer alone.’

‘Even the wilderness has morals, Cecil. You’ll regret telling us this.’

‘Not if you’re dead.’ His sword tip danced a little in the cool air.

‘You host us, bring us here, and then kill us?’

‘As you killed Alessandro Silano, mindless dilettante. Did you really think we’d forget? I thought the payback would be in Italy, or in Mortefontaine with the Danes we financed, or in New York. You have curious endurance, but gamblers know that even the luckiest streak must eventually end.’

‘The only reason we ever befriended you,’ Aurora added, ‘was to learn what your mission really is. Since you won’t confide – after I gave you every chance and promise of ample reward – it comes to this.’

‘You’ll die the slowest and most horrible death imaginable, courtesy of Red Jacket and his Indians,’ Cecil forecast. ‘You’ll tell us everything you know anyway, and then things you hope we might want to know, and then nonsense no one will even begin to believe, and in the end none of it will do you any good. First you’ll talk, and then you’ll beg, and then you’ll scream until your throat is raw, and finally get to the point where you can barely make any sound at all. You’ll feel the torment of the damned, I’ve seen it. Girty taught me well. And the remarkable thing is that even then, after you’ve told us everything through agony that you could simply have shared in Aurora’s bed, your torture will have only begun. The Indians are remarkable scientists. They can make the torture extend for days. They’ll revive you from unconsciousness a hundred times.’

‘It’s their dread and their sport,’ Aurora said. ‘The need to escape torture gives them courage. Preparation for its possibility gives them stoic invulnerability to pain.’

‘Then I’ll tell you everything now,’ I said reasonably. If they wanted to go trooping after mythical hammers and nonexistent elephants, fine by me. I’m no coward, but the prospect of being a weeklong experiment for Red Jacket and his minions had me trembling, and what did I really care for Bloodhammer’s quest? I’d been recruited by accident.

‘I’m sorry, but that option has been closed, Ethan,’ Cecil said. ‘First, we wouldn’t believe you because you have a certain … inventiveness. And second, one of the things Aurora and I most enjoy, when we’re not coupling, is watching our enemies in pain. It’s electrifying – may I use that word? – how arousing the agony of others truly is.

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