Borne In Blood Part 12

"No," she said, ignoring him. "You have no notion. None at all."

"Notion about what?" he pursued, confused and nonplussed.

"Nothing! You wouldn't understand in any case," she declared, and walked more quickly, forcing him to hurry after her along the street that bordered the ca.n.a.l until they reached the Majestic Hotel, where her uncle was preparing to depart. At last she slowed and was willing to look at him once more, this time with her seductive smile firmly in place. "You've done your duty. You can report back to the Comte now; tell him I thank him for his concern, and that I look forward to seeing him again," she said with an ill-concealed smirk as she went up the marble steps.

"But he didn't-" he objected, wanting to convince her that his company had been his idea, not an order from his employer; he received what might have been a blown kiss for his efforts.

Text of a letter written in Greek from Ismail al-Rachad in Antioch, to Saint-Germain Ragoczy, Comte Franciscus at Chateau Ragoczy near Lake Geneva, Yvoire, Switzerland; carried by private courier.

To the most highly regarded Comte Franciscus, the greetings of Ismail al-Rachad on this, the 2ndday of September, 1817, by the calendar of you Infidel dogs, I have received the gold you were good enough to send to me not two days since, and I have spent a third of it already, may Allah be praised for magnanimity. The cargos of your three s.h.i.+ps held in harbor will be released and the s.h.i.+ps permitted to set sail by the 10thof this month, which would not have been possible without the money you have provided. It is truly as you observed in your letter: gold and license keep close company. The sum I have paid-which I will not demean by calling it a bribe-has made me keenly aware of how readily the local authorities may be persuaded through indulgence. This was not unknown to me before, but it has been demonstrated with such stark clarity that I can only marvel at how openly these men abuse their offices.

I am sorry to report that the Daystar has had an outbreak of fever among her crew, and before she can sail, a dozen sailors must be replaced. Through the mercy of Allah the lives of most of these men has been spared: there is a good physician here, and he has said that the crew has contracted inflamed livers from poor water. The water-barrels are all going to be replaced and those men too ill to sail will be taken into the physician's care until they are dead or sufficiently recovered to return to the sea. I am working with Captain Irkul to find men to sail with the s.h.i.+p on or before the 10th.

I am doing my utmost to secure a safe pa.s.sage to Egypt for the deMontalia woman. As she is of your blood, I am obligated to arrange such for her, but I must tell you that it is not very prudent to permit a young woman to travel alone in this part of the world. There are many dangers that threaten her, most of which I doubt she comprehends or is prepared to deal with. I trust you know what you are asking for her when you charge me with the duty of getting her the pa.s.sage she seeks.

There has been an improvement in s.h.i.+pping of late, and I am glad to say that your s.h.i.+ps are sailing with full holds. For the next year, if all goes well, we should recoup a good portion of the losses of the last two years, if Allah wills it. If this continues to be the case, I will finally send for my family and set them up in a suitable house. I may even take a third wife. In five years, I will purchase a s.h.i.+p of my own and if Allah favors my endeavors, I will have my own s.h.i.+pping company before I am thirty-five. The men of my family are long-lived, so I have a good expectation of seeing fifty years. A man can accomplish a great deal in fifty years.

I am grateful to you-dog of an Infidel though you are-for all the opportunities you have provided me, and I am certain that you will never have cause to regret the trust you have placed in me, Your most devoted servant.

Ismail al-Rachad.

factor, Eclipse Trading Company.

Antioch.

2.

Risky though it was on such a stretch of road, Gutesohnes whipped his team to a gallop, shouting encouragement to the horses as the coach lurched along the coach-route cut into the steepest side of the mountain above the River Orbe under a bra.s.sy sky that made the coachman squint as much as the rising dust. "Half a league, my comrades!" he yelled at the horses as he held the reins with straining hands in a frantic effort to retain what little control he had left; he tried not to listen for the hoofbeats of the horses of the highwaymen behind him.

"There are trees ahead," Ragoczy called out through the carriage's open window. "They may have confederates waiting there."

"I'll be alert," Gutesohnes shouted back. "Just two days from Yvoire. Two days! You'd think we'd be safe, so close to home."

"The men are desperate," said Ragoczy, half-emerging from the on-side window, one of his pistols in his hand. "Not that I will be able to hit anything, but it may back them off. You say there are five men?"

"Yes. I saw five," Gutesohnes cried out.

"We turn on-side shortly, do we not? And the road descends?"

"Less than half a league," said Gutesohnes, his voice going ragged.

"Very good," said Ragoczy, and sighted the barrel of his pistol to the rear of the coach; the vehicle swayed dangerously, but Ragoczy kept himself in place. "I will fire above their heads-let us see if that slows them down." His pistol had two barrels and both were charged. As the turn brought the road behind the coach into view again, he took what aim he could, then pulled one trigger, and almost immediately, the other. The knuckles of his hand on which the barrels rested burned through his glove, but he remained in position to see if he had done any damage to their pursuers. Unable to discern what had become of the group of cloaked-and-masked men, he slipped back into the coach, blowing on his knuckles to cool the welts; Hero was hanging onto the hand-straps and doing her best to maintain her composure.

"They warned us in Cossonay that there are bandits about," she said without accusing him in any way as she watched him put down his double-barreled pistol and take a smaller pistol from under the armrest. "This could have been avoided. We should have employed out-riders."

"So they did warn us, and we might well have avoided this, had we heeded them," Ragoczy agreed as he inspected the pistol before readying himself to shoot at the outlaws once again. "And we know now that out-riders would be helpful, so long as they a.s.sisted us and not them. I hope our second coach is more fortunate than we have been." He gestured toward the rear of their vehicle. "There have been times that such warnings were ploys to put travelers into the hands of brigands, who posed as out-riders."

She considered this unpleasant possibility. "Yes. That could happen."

"One must weigh the possibilities and make the best decisions under the circ.u.mstances."

"They can go faster than we can, can't they?" she asked, a slight tremor in her voice. "They'll overtake us."

"They can, but not safely. As we topped the last rise, one of their men was crowded to the edge of the road; he and his mount fell, and they are somewhere down the canyon. The highwaymen are now without their leader and his deputy: their horses are tiring rapidly." He did not add that soon it would be unsafe for the four gray Kladrubers pulling the coach to continue at this precipitous pace, and that they, too, were becoming exhausted; the team of fine Bohemian carriage horses had been his most extravagant purchase in Liege and it offended him that they should be put at risk.

"Yes. The servants-their coach should not be far behind us. Do you think they'll be set upon, as we have been? Isn't there some way to warn them?"

"The indication of a fall from the road ought to alert them that something is wrong," said Ragoczy. "I doubt these highwaymen will strike again at anyone today, not after that fall." He had great confidence in Rogier's ability to deal with whatever he encountered, but he kept that thought to himself.

Sighing, Hero clung more tightly to the hand-strap. "I hope you're right."

"They have lost a horse and I am a.s.suming the rider was injured, too. Neither man nor horse will be easily brought up from the fall." He remembered many times when he had been forced to out-run pursuers: it was an experience he never got used to. "Can you charge my pistols for me?"

"I know how to," she said. "Where is your-"

"In the small leather box, in the other armrest, the one with the broad shoulder-strap. You can save me some time if you would tend to my pistols." He pulled himself half out the window and fired again, just as Gutesohnes applied the brake to help the horses slow down as the road began its sharp descent. Ragoczy swore an oath in a language only he understood, his hand trembling with the rattle of the carriage. His arm, jolted by the tightening of the brake, was off-aim, but that proved a lucky chance as the shot struck high in the chest of the lead horse of the five highwaymen. The horse staggered and went down, tumbling down the road, legs flailing, taking his rider and unseating, in addition to the stricken horse's rider, two of the men who tried-and failed-to get over their fallen companion.

Gutesohnes managed to pull his team in to an edgy trot, holding the Kladrubers in as he regained control of the coach and his team. "How many now, Comte?" he called back as the coach swung into a grove of trees and was slowed still more by their encroaching presence.

"They're falling back, and not a moment too soon," said Ragoczy loudly enough to be heard inside the coach and on the driving-box. "I'm sorry about the horses. They meant us no harm."

"No, that they did not," agreed Gutesohnes, tugging back on the reins to keep the team from breaking into a run.

Ragoczy slid back into the coach window, narrowly avoiding a collision with a ma.s.sive tree-trunk growing at the edge of the road. "I think we're safe for now," he said to Hero as she handed him his recharged pistol.

"They aren't following us," she said uncertainly.

"No. And no one is emerging from the forest ahead of us." He stowed the pistol in the armrest along with his cartridge-box. "For now we seem to be safe. If there are no more problems, we will reach Lausanne tonight, and be back at Chateau Ragoczy by nightfall tomorrow." He gave her a rea.s.suring smile. "I don't think any robbers are bold enough to venture as far as the lake."

She shook her head as she began to weep. "I'm ... I'm sorry," she stammered.

"Why should you be?" he asked, holding out his hands to her.

"Because ... because ..." She sobbed openly.

"Because you are calm when things are dangerous and upset when the danger is past?" he suggested, having seen this kind of behavior on many previous occasions.

"Distraught," she admitted, still crying but also laughing. She pulled a small handkerchief from her reticule and dabbed at her eyes. "I'm ... abashed."

"Abashed? There is no need," he said, moving onto her seat and putting his arm around her. "You are reliable beyond all reckoning. You have no cause to feel abashed."

She bristled at this. "What do you mean, I have no cause?"

"I understand you do feel abashed," he went on, "and it saddens me that you do not value yourself highly enough to see that you deserve your name, and that you have done better than almost anyone-man or woman-could hope to have done." He felt her relax under his arm, and he leaned over to kiss her forehead. "I hold you in high regard, whether you do or not."

She raised her face, her eyes red and still filling with tears. "You always know what to say to brighten my mood," she said, shaking her head slowly.

He kissed her cheek. "You make it sound as if I indulge you, which is not the case."

"So you say," she murmured while she crumpled her handkerchief and wiped her face with it. "Oh, what's the purpose of rea.s.surance, but to help us forget our failings?"

"I would rather think it has to do with comfort, and the reiterance of pledges of devotion." He took her hand which did not contain her handkerchief and brought it to his lips. "I am grateful to you for charging my pistol," he went on evenly. "Yours is a very useful skill."

She laughed a little. "One you knew I possessed."

"No," he corrected gently, "one I hoped you possessed. With your travels, I thought it likely that you had been taught to shoot."

"Oh, yes," she said, more grimly but no longer weeping. "My father insisted."

"Very good," Ragoczy approved, and pulled her a little closer to him. "You have forgot nothing."

She straightened up. "I should hope not. He would have slapped me silly if I had failed to learn something so important."

He bit back the sharp remark that rose in his thoughts, and instead, he kissed her hand again. "I thank you for being ready to help in a difficult situation."

"It was that," she agreed, and gave a long, slow sigh as she settled against his shoulder. "I wish I didn't seem to unravel when difficult situations end."

"Better then than in the middle of them," he said, noticing the coach was going at a walk now, over more deeply rutted road, although it was no longer descending steeply. There were farmhouses in sight, and the first signs of a village ahead. He tapped on the ceiling of the coach to gain Gutesohnes' attention, then called out, "Why are we slowing down? Is the team worn out?"

"Nothing like that," answered Gutesohnes. "The team can go on to Lausanne if they aren't pushed again. No, Saint-Ivroc is less than a league ahead. You know Saint-Ivroc."

"Very small," Ragoczy recalled. "Maybe fifteen houses at most, and a market-square with a trough and a fountain."

"And a tavern for the marketers. No posting inn," Gutesohnes added. "Do you want to stop?"

"Why?" Ragoczy asked.

"To make a report?"

"To whom? For all we know, the highwaymen live here. In remote places like this, robbery is often the only way to make a living." Ragoczy considered for the better part of a minute, then said, "If the coach seems sound and the team is all right, give them a chance to drink at the village trough, and then we will continue on, at an easy pace."

"Very good," said Gutesohnes, and pulled the team down to a slower walk so that the coach rolled into the town as inconspicuously as possible.

"Would you like to step down?" Ragoczy asked Hero as he felt the coach finally stop moving.

"No, not really. Not here," she answered. "It is all so empty. Is it just that it's mid-day and they're all at dinner?"

"Perhaps. You need not alight if that is what you want," he said as he opened the door and let down the steps. Descending, he went to the front of the team and patted the neck of the off-side wheeler. "I am sorry that you had to do that."

"Better than being stolen by those roughians," said Gutesohnes as he climbed down from the driving-box. "And you wonder why I prefer being a courier."

"You might still be set upon by highwaymen," said Ragoczy as he reached up into the bottom of the driving-box for the wooden pail, which he took to the trough and filled for the wheeler nearest him; the leaders had sunk their noses into the water. He held the pail while the horse drank, then went and refilled it for the other wheeler. Looking about, he said, "The square is truly deserted just now."

"It's mid-day, or close enough, as you see. Most places are shut for the dinner hour. And many of the town's young men died in the recent wars, or so I have heard." Gutesohnes made a quick survey of the square. "There is one open door, I see."

"Where?"

Gutesohnes c.o.c.ked his head toward the tavern that faced the market-square. "I'm going to get something to eat and drink."

"As suits you best," said Ragoczy, then added, "Will you bring a bottle of cider for my companion?" He offered the pail of water to the second wheeler, holding it while the gray gelding did his best to shove his nose through the bottom of the pail.

"Certainly," said Gutesohnes, already striding away toward the tavern.

Hero leaned out the window of the coach. "You are not going to join him, are you?"

"No, I am not," he said. "We should be traveling soon." He pulled a twig from the nearest horse's mane. "I want to reach Lausanne before sunset."

"You fear more highwaymen?" she asked, her voice trembling.

"Highwaymen? No." He put the empty pail back on the floor of the driving-box. "Nothing so obvious. I want a chance to inspect the coach thoroughly and make any repairs needed before we venture on."

"Do you think repairs will be necessary? This coach is so new, and we have not used it too harshly." She sounded worried.

"I think the axles should be inspected, and the wheel-rims. The harness may also have sustained damage and may need repair. And after the way we careened down the mountainside, I think the springs must need adjusting." He patted the rump of the wheeler and saw a cloud of dust rise from the gray coat. "And the horses will need to be groomed carefully. When we get them back to Chateau Ragoczy, they will have to be bathed."

"Well, if you will drive gray horses ..." she said. "They show every speck of dust and grime."

"That they do," he said. "I'll want to clean my pistols and charge them again."

"Will you trust your team to your grooms?" she asked.

"If they were the liver sorrels, I would probably brush them down myself. But these Kladrubers are not so attached to their people as the liver sorrels are." He watched a cat with a mouse in its jaws sneak past the trough and into an alley between two closed buildings. "The horses will need three days of rest after such work as they have had."

"Will you bring the liver sorrels back from Liege any time soon?" Hero asked. "I do so like them."

"I may do. They'll be at Chateau Ragoczy before winter, that much I can a.s.sure you." He patted the shoulder of the on-side leader as he made his way around toward the door. He began to wonder how much longer Gutesohnes would take for a quick meal; they should be under way soon, he told himself as he checked the horses' mouths, hoping the escape from the highwaymen had not damaged them. He had examined the Kladruber's legs and feet by the time Gutesohnes sauntered back, a sly smile beginning to spread over his face, a bottle of cherry cider in his hand.

"The highwaymen we encountered live in the village up the hill, or so the locals claim. There are nine of them, seven of them were soldiers in Napoleon's army, and have found no way to earn a living but banditry." He handed the bottle to Ragoczy, then grabbed the rail and pulled himself up into the driving-box. "They claim they have tried to get the authorities to remove them from this region, that the bandits are all strangers in the region. The landlord of the tavern offered to buy them pa.s.sage to America." He laughed-and the sound revealed that he was still shaken from their get-away-and occupied himself with pulling the reins into his hands. "Best get inside, or I may go without you, Comte." He winked broadly to indicate he was joking, not insubordinate.

"You've had a tankard or two of beer, I a.s.sume, and will be calmer shortly," said Ragoczy as he climbed up the steps, pulled them up, and closed the door. After he gave the cider to Hero, he tapped the ceiling of the coach to signal that he was ready to depart.

"Is he capable of driving safely?" Hero asked as Ragoczy settled across from her. She began to pry the wax-sealed lid from the bottle, using her pen-knife in her reticule to do it. Settling back against the squabs, she reached for a travel cup in the holder next to the hand-strap, and poured out about a third of the contents of the bottle.

"Oh, yes. This wildness is much more nerves than drink. He is still half-expecting the robbers to resume their chase, and to be forced to risk the team in out-running them." He felt the coach begin to move off at a decorous pace. "You see? There is no reason to worry: the horses will keep him honest. They came through the chase well enough, but the off-side wheeler has a cut on his leg that I suspect is from a bit of flying rock from the roadway. It will need dressing tonight, and perhaps again tomorrow night."

"When we will be back at your chateau," she said quietly.

"So I imagine we will be, if that one stretch of road is still holding its repairs," said Ragoczy as the coach moved on into the lovely early afternoon. Above them seraphic clouds drifted, serene as plainsong, impervious to the crags of rock and ice below, and too exalted to dally over the orchards and field farther down the flanks of the mountains. Orchards and vineyards hung with fruit and the fields were s.h.a.ggy with grain or filled with grazing cattle, goats, and sheep. The worst of the summer heat had pa.s.sed, and although the day was warm, it was not stifling.