I instructed Julian to make the arrangements and to set Stephen up in the guest bedroom. If Julian was surprised that I wasn’t putting the boy in the servant’s quarters, he did not show it. Of course, Julian occupied the second-largest bedroom in the house, so he’d have no reason to complain.
I was quite pleased that I now had my translator and guide. I just needed a plan—something that would get us into the castle, the correct method for the assassination, and means to escape. And I needed to do it all without Stephen finding out what we were actually doing in Hungary.
Baggie took his leave the very next day. I begged him to stay on, but he said he had an assignment waiting on him back home. Something in France. I did not question him further as it was strictly forbidden to know what other Bombays were working on. I had enough to think of on my own. I embraced my brother and sent him on his way with the package for little Stratford. I promised to visit when Rolfie came home with his new, Indian bride. I was sorry to see my brother go.
While Julian made the necessary arrangements for our journey—travel, packing and so on—I picked Stephen’s brain for information on the culture and landscape we would soon be breaching. The boy was very forthcoming with information, and I sensed that he was desperate to go back home.
“How did you come to be orphaned, Stephen?” I asked during one of our discussions a few days later. I was becoming quite fond of the child, and he seemed eager to please.
“My parents were killed in an Ottoman attack when I was seven, sir. I lived here and there until Lord Allen found me and brought me back here with him.” Isolde sat in his lap and he petted her. Tristan was nibbling gently on the boy’s toes. Maybe he thought they were figs.
“Do you like working for Lord Allen?” I asked. The aristocrat had the reputation of being a hothead. Two wives had died under his care, and two more had abandoned him. He had no children, and I wondered if this was why he’d taken on young Stephen.
The boy squinted warily at me, and I realized that he was worried I might tell Lord Allen what he’d said. Clever boy.
I shook my head. “I have no intention of saying a word to his Lordship. I barely know the man. And you do not have to answer that question.”
Stephen was silent for a few moments. “He’s all right, I imagine. He has a bit of a temper though.” The boy looked at the door, and then back at me. “You really won’t tell him I said that?”
“No. I really won’t,” I promised, wondering what the boy had been through.
Over the course of the next few days, Stephen reviewed maps with me. To my surprise, he was very familiar with Cachtice Castle, where Elizabeth was being held.
“My mother used to work there as a cook,” he explained. “I played in the hallways as a boy.”
I was about to remind him that he still was, in fact, a boy, but something in his eyes stopped me.
“I don’t recall the Ottomans breaching Cachtice. How did your parents fall into their hands?”
Stephen frowned. “My mother got a job on the border with Turkey, cooking for the troops. My father was a soldier there, and she wanted to be near him.” He didn’t say another word, so I didn’t press him.
“Are you familiar with the Bathorys?” I asked as nonchalantly as I could.
Stephen sniffed. “They seemed nice enough. Except for that woman. I knew one of the girls she killed. Her name was Marie, and she used to look after me when I was little.” He looked so sad I wanted to stop him from saying another word. “The Countess told her she could be one of her ladies in waiting,” Stephen continued, a note of sorrow in his voice. “I never saw her again.”
I dismissed Stephen and sat at my desk for a long time, thinking of my method to get to the Countess. It was quite a happy coincidence that the boy knew the inside of the castle well, but the success of this mission still rested on one thing—the delivery of the poison. I had decided on a plant-based poison and narrowed it down to five possibilities: curare, lily of the valley, monkshood, Star of Bethlehem and Tanghinia, otherwise known as the Ordeal Bean of Madagascar.
Julian had managed to acquire for me a small blow dart tube and a couple of tiny darts. You really could find anything in Cairo these days. True, we were no longer on the Silk Road, but merchants came from all over three continents to trade here. The darts and gun would be impossible to trace.
I frowned. But that would mean I’d left something behind to trace. How ignorant of me! I’d found the method and means of delivery, and planned so that it would look as though the Countess died of natural causes, but I’d forgotten that I’d be leaving a dart behind!
This would not do. I needed to remove the dart before the body was found. But how? I couldn’t very well walk through walls to go and get it—although that would be fabulous. I could wait for the guard to bring Elizabeth her dinner and overpower him—but then there was a witness. And leaving a dead body behind was evidence. Killing an innocent was against the Bombay Code and could bring unpleasant repercussions from the Council.
“Sir?” Julian appeared in the doorway with a platter of figs and wine. I nodded, and he placed the tray on my desk.
“What is for dinner?” I asked absently.
“Sea bass,” Julian answered. “Will that be all, sir?”
An idea quickly formed in the recesses of my brain and I smiled. “No. Could you send someone to the market to pick up the strongest silk thread they can find?”
Julian nodded. “Of course, sir. Any particular length or color?”
I shook my head. “Color does not matter, but I would like several yards if possible.”
“Very good, sir. I’ll have it for you within the hour.” And with that, Julian took his leave.
It was the sea bass that gave me the idea. Fishing! I just needed to tether the darts to my person. After deploying, I could then retrieve the dart via the silk thread and—voila! Nothing left behind! I’d use silk because it was the strongest and most durable material, and I was certain it would not break when retrieving it. Brilliant! Once again, Julian had helped me without knowing it. I really must see to his care if something were to happen to me. Not that I planned on that happening, but the Bombays were nothing if not prepared.
Stephen and I made ready to leave the very next morning. Reluctantly we donned traditional Hungarian clothing in hues of blue and saffron, complete with heavily ornate dolman jackets with slit sleeves. The heat was stifling, but once we crossed into Southern Europe the weather would relent somewhat. I wasn’t fond of the costume. The Hungarians were a bit dated in their fashion sense. Still, what could I do?
Julian had the carriage ready to take us to the sea, where we would board a boat to cross over to the Ottoman Empire. Tristan and Isolde seemed to sense Stephen was leaving and clutched his feet, squawking their displeasure. I wondered if they thought they were his parents. Stephen seemed sad to part with the Dodos, and Julian gently extracted the fat little birds from his feet.
We didn’t say much in the carriage or on the boat. I’d made it clear to Stephen that no one was to know where we were going, and he was very fastidious about keeping up his end of the bargain. Upon entering the Ottoman Empire, I spoke because I knew Turkish. As soon as we made our way into Hungary, Stephen did the talking, and I became mute.
The night before we reached Cachtice Castle, Stephen and I sheltered in a small cave only a short mile away. It was primitive, and I missed my modern conveniences. Sigh. The things I do for my job!
“I used to hide in here all the time,” Stephen said quietly as we unpacked and set up our dinner for the night. “No one has seen us, so no one knows we are here.”
His revelation startled me. The boy was taking to this secret life a bit too easily. And while I admired him for it, it made me uneasy. I worried Stephen might be just too clever for his own good on this mission. I tried to shake off the feelings of discomfort, but as we drew closer to our target, it slowly became clear to me just how much I needed the boy to help me carry out the p
lan. I didn’t speak the language or know the layout of the castle like he did. Which had been fine when he was a simple hired translator. But I suddenly realized that through our discussions I had given far too may clues away as to the nature of my visit to Hungary. And Stephen was far too clever to dismiss them. However, according to the Bombay Code, you couldn’t include outsiders in your assignment unless you planned to frame them for the assassination. Or kill them. If I involved Stephen I would have to dispose of him. No loose ends.
I thought about this disconcerting fact as we lay down to sleep that night. Listening to the boy’s gentle snoring made me realize with a heavy heart that I would, in fact, have to dispose of him when this was over. He would simply know too much.
This was the main reason that I’d kept Julian in the dark all these years. No one outside the family was supposed to know we were assassins. It had worked quite well for thousands of years. Who was I to break the rules now?
Tears sprang to the corners of my eyes. I didn’t want to hurt Stephen. And yet, that was exactly what I had to do. No one would know. No one would care. Lord Allen would certainly understand. Though I was sure Tristan and Isolde wouldn’t.
This was truly terrible! I could no sooner kill this sweet boy than I could be happy toiling away in the dull gray of England. My stomach began to ache, and I was working my way up to a violent headache.
Pushing these thoughts from my mind, I focused on the job. My complete lack of knowledge of Hungarian and the castle made it crucial for me to employ Stephen. At this point, I had no choice. Doubt tried to slip through the cracks in my logic, but I shut it down. We were too close to back out on the job, and it wasn’t like I could do that anyway. I would have to take this one step at a time. That was the only way I’d make it through this.
In the dark, early hours before dawn, I woke Stephen and explained that I had an assignment for him. I needed him to enter the castle, find Elizabeth of Bathory’s prison, observe the movements of the guard throughout the day and report back to me here, in the cave. I made it perfectly clear he was not to be seen, and he was not to mention me or the cave in any way.
To my sorrow, the boy was eagerly excited about the mission. He reminded me of myself and Baggie at that age. This was a lark for him. It was murder for me.
The day passed with agonizing slowness. It was cool and damp in the cave, but no one came near me. I was tormented by grief at the thought that I had to kill young Stephen. He reminded me so of my godson Stratford. If only it were Stratford. Then he’d be a Bombay, and this would merely be a training exercise.
The minutes were achingly long. I ate from our rations for lunch, teatime and dinner in solitude. And for the first time, I felt the sharp pang of loneliness. I tried to head it off by preparing the poison and darts.
The Tagena tree nuts were easy to transport. Using a stone, I smashed the nuts carefully and pounded the kernels into a white mash. Adding a little water to keep the substance together, I scooped the substance into a glass jar and screwed on the lid tightly. The stone, on which I pulverized the nuts, I tossed deeper into the cave.
Carefully I withdrew the darts and tied a few yards of silk thread to the back of each one of them. Back in Cairo I had honed my blow dart skills, and I was certain I could hit the Countess with great accuracy even if she was moving. I packed up my weapons and waited.
I knew I couldn’t kill Stephen until we were done. I needed him at least until I came to the border. Whatever I did would have to be quick and painless. The boy would have earned a quiet death. My heart burned at what I had to do.
Sometime after evening had fallen, Stephen returned to my cave and my stomach dropped at the sight of him. He carried a stick with him, and after I offered him some food, he began to draw upon the cave floor.
“The castle wall is circular,” he said happily. He drew an inner corridor to a small staircase that went up about twenty steps. At the top, he drew a room. “This is where she’s being held. There’s only one door and no windows.”
Stephen drew a door with one slot about one third of the way down from the top. The slot was the width of a fist, and I was certain I could both aim and hit my target through it.
“There is one guard, but he is only there to serve her food. He doesn’t stay between meals. I guess they figure since she’s completely bricked in with an iron door that she isn’t going anywhere,” Stephen said.
“How do we get into the castle unseen?” I asked the boy.
Stephen grinned mischievously. “I know a secret way. There’s an old, unused privy tower here.” He pointed to a spot on the wall. “It’s a short but easy climb to get up and through.”
He must have caught the look on my face and he laughed. “Don’t worry. I cleaned it while I was there. Not that there was much to clean. It hasn’t been used in years.”
My heart broke that very instant. He’d cleaned the old privy entrance for me. How was I going to kill him?
“And there’s a room here.” Stephen pointed to a small indentation inside the wall. “I think it used to be for storage or something, but the wall crumbled a bit, and they don’t use it anymore. We can hide there.”
“Brilliant,” I said without enthusiasm. “When is the best time to go see the Countess?”
Stephen sat back and frowned at this. “You’re not going to break her out, are you?” For the first time he realized there must be a reason for this trip.
“No,” I said softly. “I have no intention of setting that monster free.”
Stephen seemed to accept this as a cue for him to not ask any more questions. Instead, he shrugged and continued on. “I think the best time to go would be soon, since it will be a long time before the guard comes with breakfast. The light is low, but I think we can manage. They keep a torch burning overnight just outside her door.”
I nodded and organized my things. We would be taking a small pack with us and leaving the rest behind in the cave, hidden by rocks. Stephen wasn’t to speak unless we were confronted. At that point, he was to say that we were mere travelers, looking for a safe place to stop for the night. I didn’t think we’d be caught since it was the middle of the night, but you can never be too certain of these things.
Stephen led me to the castle wall. The darkness provided cover as we climbed the wall up to the privy hole and lifted ourselves through. I did everything the boy signaled, and we made our way to the stone stairs where the Countess’ prison was above.
The boy motioned for me to stay at the bottom of the staircase while he went up to make sure there was no guard. He re-emerged a moment later with a grin on his face.
“Stephen,” I whispered, holding the boy’s shoulders. “I need you to stay here. Do you understand?”
He frowned. “But I want to go with you. You’re going to kill her, aren’t you?”
Icy fear washed over me. He knew. The boy knew. He’d just sealed his fate and didn’t even know it.
“You need to stay here and keep a sharp eye out. If someone comes, you have to run up and let me know.”
Stephen nodded, and I patted him on the shoulder. He beamed with pride. Good lad, I thought sadly.
I slowly made my way up the stairs, careful not to make a sound. At the top of the stairs, a single torch illuminated the dead end. The iron door was on my left. Quickly I assembled my dart gun. After opening the jar of the poison paste, I generously ground the tip of the first dart into it. Carefully, I inserted the dart into the opposite end of the tube, backwards. The silk thread doubled up inside, dropping back out the front of the tube. The other end was tied to my belt.
“Elizabeth…” I called softly into the slot. “Elizabeth…” I repeated and was rewarded by the sound of rustling silk skirts.
“Who is there?” a bitter female voice demanded. Clearly she was not afraid. That was good.
“I’ve come to help you,” I lied. “But you need to come to the door.”
Dark eyes flashed in the slot, eyebrows arched into an evil
grin. “I knew it! I knew someone would come to fetch me!” Arrogance seeped out of every pore. I’d have no problem dispatching her.
“Stand up and be ready to run out this door when I get it opened,” I said.
Elizabeth nodded and gave a sinister chuckle. She stood, and I found myself face to face with her neck. She was standing and waiting. The slot was the perfect height.
“Just a moment,” I said as I prepared the dart. “This will be a bit tricky…”
“Oh hurry up, damn you!” the monster howled.
I pressed my lips to the end of the tube and blew hard, launching the dart straight into her jugular vein. The point went deep, and I had no doubt the poison would work quickly.
Elizabeth choked and clutched at the dart before falling to the floor and clawing at her throat. A quick jerk of the thread and the dart was out. I pulled it through the slot and watched.
My victim writhed on the floor in painful spasms. It only took minutes, but as the paralysis kicked in, her breathing labored, and then her heart came to a complete stop.
I made it back down the stairs in a couple of leaps and grabbed Stephen. The boy nodded, and we raced back through the way we came, ending with a thud on the ground as we dropped through the old privy.
My heartbeat slowed as we made our way to the cave and collected our things. We were at the border of Turkey by morning, and we paused to eat and drink. Stephen grinned broadly at me. My heart sank. Every step closer to that border was one step closer to the boy’s impending death. I was completely miserable, but I had no choice. Anger flared inside me as I imagined Stephen’s face at the moment of his death… at my hands. I didn’t think it was possible to feel such torment and agony. He was only an innocent boy! He’d lost his parents and had a cruel master waiting for him.
Snuff the Magic Dragon (and other Bombay Family Bedtime Stories) (Greatest Hits Mysteries) Page 7
