“Monsieur de Villeneuve!” the man exclaimed, looking at them more closely. “And Captain de Guichen! God bless my soul, but it is good to see you both. And to think I tried to send you away!”
He shook his head ruefully, then gestured toward the door. “Come in, sirs, come in. Maudie will be so pleased. We were talking of you only the other day. We can never forget, Captain,” he added, his voice growing husky, “what you and your Cadre of the Lost did for us. We would have been the ones who were lost!”
“I take it no one else has tried to run you out of business,” Stephano said, wincing slightly as Thomaso engulfed his hand in a grip that was a bit too heartfelt.
“No, sir, no. Thanks to you and your friends. How is Dag? He didn’t come with you?”
“He’s a trifle indisposed,” Rodrigo said. “Nothing serious.”
“Ah, I see.” Thomaso grinned and looked wise. “Send him round when he recovers. Now, do come in, sirs.”
“Sorry, Thomaso,” said Stephano. “Maybe another time. We’re looking for a friend of ours. We’re afraid he may be in trouble. He would have stopped by here in the last hour, perhaps asked for a ride-”
“You must mean Sir Robert Beauchamp,” said Thomaso. “Your fears are right, Captain. Sir Robert said he’d been attacked by thieves.”
Stephano and Rodrigo looked at each other.
“The assassins found him,” said Rodrigo in grim tones. “Maybe we’re too late!”
“I fear we are,” said Stephano. “Was Sir Robert badly hurt?”
“Just a gash on his hand,” said Thomaso. “He didn’t stay long. He asked if we could give him a ride to his lodgings. Sir Robert’s a member of long-standing. Of course, I was happy to accommodate him.”
“Just to be sure this is our Sir Robert, could you describe him?” Stephano asked.
“A tall gentleman, well-spoken,” said Thomaso. “Freyan exile. Came here after the war. That’s about all I can tell you, Captain. I’ve never seen the man’s face. Like many of our members, he always wears a mask.”
“Well, it seems he’s safe for the moment,” said Rodrigo.
“Yes, but for how much longer,” Stephano argued. “The hounds are on his trail-”
“If only we knew where he’s gone,” Rodrigo said helplessly. “We could warn him.”
Thomaso looked from one to the other. “Generally such information is kept in strict confidence, but seeing that it is you, Captain, Sir Robert asked the driver to take him to the Blue Parrot.”
“The Blue Parrot!” Rodrigo repeated in alarm. “They’ll be waiting for him!”
“Thomaso,” said Stephano urgently, “we haven’t a moment to lose. Would it be possible for your driver to take us-”
“Of course, sirs, of course,” said Thomaso. He summoned the page and ordered him to the stables.
“The Blue Parrot is not far, Captain,” Thomaso said, when the carriage arrived. He assisted them to enter. “By the Masons’ Guildhall.”
“Thank you, Thomaso,” Rodrigo called, as the carriage rattled away over the cobblestones. “You may have saved a life this night!”
Stephano sat back in the seat, flexing his hand. “I’d forgotten that man’s handshake. I’ve lost all feeling in my fingers.”
“You note I avoid personal contact,” said Rodrigo. “I’m glad he and Maudie are doing well. We’ll have to remember to tell Dag. So, now, what is our plan? Do we storm the Blue Parrot? If so, I must remind you that I’m not much good at storming.”
“Don’t you find it odd that Sir Henry is still in Westfirth?” Stephano asked. “If I’d kidnapped a journeyman who’d made an astounding discovery that would revolutionize warfare, I’d be on the first ship out.”
“Maybe Wallace knew that people would be searching for him and he’s lying low to wait for the furor to die down.”
“Maybe,” said Stephano, unconvinced. “But now he knows that Father Jacob recognized him, and while he probably hopes the demons killed the priest, Wallace can’t count on it. He’ll have to leave tonight.”
“Perhaps he’s already gone,” said Rodrigo.
“Don’t sound so hopeful,” said Stephano. “Wallace went back to the Blue Parrot. Let’s say he has Alcazar stashed there. He has to pack up his things, collect Alcazar. That could take some time.”
“If I am not mistaken, here we are,” said Rodrigo as the carriage rolled to a stop. “Too bad we don’t know what Wallace looks like. Thomaso’s description could fit almost any one.”
“From what my mother told me, a description wouldn’t help,” said Stephano. “He’ll be disguised and he’d have Alcazar disguised, as well.”
“Fine establishment, this Blue Parrot,” said Rodrigo, as they emerged from the cab. “A hotel suitable for intrigue, secret assignations, lovers escaping the eyes of jealous spouses. Not the sort of place one hides kidnapped journeymen.”
The Blue Parrot was obviously a well-to-do establishment, catering only to the finest clientele. The windows of the upper levels were discreetly sealed and shuttered, while the windows on the ground floor were ablaze with light. The neatly painted sign featuring the bird for which the inn was named hung above the well-lit entryway. Through the windows, they could see serving maids bustling about in little frilly caps and white aprons waiting on elegantly dressed ladies and gentlemen.
“You’re right,” said Stephano, frowning. “Still it won’t hurt to ask-”
He started toward the door. The scandalized Rodrigo dragged him back.
“My dear fellow, you can’t possibly think you’re going to go bounding inside and demand to see the guest register?”
“I was going to ask the landlord if he’d seen a man resembling Wallace’s description-”
“And you would be escorted to the street and tossed out on your ear,” said Rodrigo.
“So what would you do?” Stephano asked, exasperated.
“Take a room,” said Rodrigo. “Wash off the gunpowder residue and have supper. I’m thinking a nice bit of fish, followed by broiled squab, new spring peas and a dry white wine, moderately chilled.”
“You have to explain this bill to my mother,” Stephano grumbled.
Sir Henry Wallace arrived at the Blue Parrot without incident. Ordinarily he would not have risked giving a carriage driver his true destination, but he was in haste and he had no reason to think anyone had followed him. He did take the precaution of ordering the carriage to drive around to the back alley and came in through the rear entrance. He opened the door to his room with his key and walked in, expecting to find Alcazar there, whining as usual.
Alcazar was nowhere in sight.
“Pietro?” Sir Henry called softly, looking about.
No answer. The suite was empty. Swearing beneath his breath, Sir Henry searched all the rooms twice, even looking under the bed. He was trying to think what might have happened, when there came a timid knock on the door.
Sir Henry flung open the door and found Alcazar in the hall. Henry grabbed hold of the journeyman and dragged him, stumbling, inside.
“Where the devil have you been?”
“I… I went to visit Louisa, my b-brother’s wife,” Alcazar stammered, shriveling beneath Sir Henry’s withering eye.
“You went to visit?” Sir Henry said, his voice shaking with fury. “You left this hotel and went to visit your brother’s wife, who is undoubtedly under surveillance-”
Alcazar went exceedingly pale. “I… I w-wore a hat.”
“You wore a hat. God give me strength not to murder you,” said Sir Henry, his fists clenching.
“I have good news, sir!” cried Alcazar faintly, backing into a corner. “The Silver Raven is in port. We can leave tomorrow…”
“We’re leaving now, tonight,” said Sir Henry. “Go get dressed.”
“But I’m already dressed-”
“As a woman, you blithering idiot. You came here in petticoats. You’re damned well going to leave in petticoats.”
The chastened Alcazar hurried meekly into his bedroom, stripped off his clothes, and began to wrestle with his corset. Henry blew out the lights, walked over to the window, parted the velvet curtain a crack and looked out onto the street. He was certain he had not been followed from the bordello, but that fool Alcazar, traipsing about the city in his blasted hat could have picked up any number of tails.