Simon Hawke - The Zenda Vendetta

Sapt stared at Finn with growing interest. For a moment, Finn had a crazy feeling that the old soldier had actually figured it all out, though of course, that was impossible.

“What are we to do, then?” said von Tarlenheim, helplessly.

“It appears to me that there is only one thing that we can do,” Finn said. “We cannot hope to attack the castle in force. Even if there were some way we could get the entire army to support us-and how would we do that without tipping our hand? — Michael could easily kill the king. Where would be your proof? By the time you could take the castle, Michael would have had an opportunity to destroy Rudolf’s remains a dozen times over.”

“Lord, Rassendyll,” said Fritz.

“Listen to him, Fritz,” said Sapt, watching him intently. “This is a grim business we’re about and we can spare no time to phrase matters delicately.”

“We cannot hope to prevail upon Michael to release the king,” said Finn. “He has everything to lose by doing so and nothing at all to gain. There is no pressure we could bring to bear upon him that would be great enough to bend him to our will. Agreed?”

“Agreed,” said Sapt.

“What does that leave us, then?” said Fritz. “What if we tried to bribe the Six? We could pay them more than Michael pays them and induce them to change sides.”

“That would be unwise,” said Sapt. “One can never trust a mercenary. They have only their own gain to care for. They could burn the candle at both ends.”

“What’s to be done, then?” said von Tarlenheim.

“We have only one choice left open to us,” Finn said. “We must take Zenda Castle by ourselves.”

“You’re mad,” said Fritz von Tarlenheim. “It would be impossible. Besides, you only just finished telling us that Michael could kill the king if any such attack took place.”

“If it were an open attack, yes,” said Finn, “but not if it were accomplished by stealth.”

“But how?” said Fritz.

“There has to be a way,” said Finn. “Sapt, you strike me as the sort of man who would inspire great loyalty amongst his troops. Are there any such who once served under you that you could count on?”

“I can think of a few,” said Sapt, “senior officers now in Strakencz’s regiment and some who have retired from the service. They are not taken in by His Lordship, the Duke of Strelsau. They remember him all too well as a young officer. Still, they are only a handful, and how can we enlist their aid without telling them the truth?”

“Perhaps we will not have to tell them the truth,” said Finn. “Or we can tell them the truth and bend it slightly.”

“What do you mean?” said Fritz.

“Well, there is a prisoner in Zenda Castle,” Finn said. “Do we have to tell them it’s the king?”

“Go on,” said Sapt, intrigued.

“Suppose we had a potential international incident upon our hands,” said Finn. “Suppose some very influential foreign gentleman, a friend of the king’s, had run afoul of Michael somehow-we needn’t say how-and Michael had imprisoned him in Zenda Castle in order to teach him a lesson? He is, after all, the Duke of Strelsau and holder of the estates and lands of Zenda. He could easily charge someone with a crime and execute the punishment.”

“True,” said Sapt. “He has that authority.”

“Well then, let us assume that the king has been made aware of this, say that the ambassador of the nation that this imaginary gentleman is from has secretly approached the king and asked him to intervene on this gentleman’s behalf. All very behind the scenes, to avoid an unpleasant incident involving governments, and so forth. Our imaginary gentleman is a very important man. The king, also secretly, remonstrates with Michael to release the man in order to avoid political repercussions. Michael is intransigent. You can see how this would pose a serious problem. Moving against Michael openly as his first official act would be a bad decision for the king. It would reopen wounds that are still all too fresh in Ruritania. Michael, of course, would realize this. That would be his advantage in the situation. So, in order to avoid political unpleasantness, the king intends to continue bargaining with Michael. However, should all his appeals fall upon deaf ears, he is prepared to move, in secret, against Zenda Castle in order to rescue this imprisoned gentleman. Afterwards, of course, he can claim total ignorance of the affair and insist that it all must have been done by foreign nationals, lodge a strenuous protest with the ambassador concerned, which imaginary ambassador will of course take it no further and the entire affair will be brought to a close. That is how you will present it to your men, Sapt. They are to stand by, prepared to move at a moment’s notice in this most secret mission, to rescue this imaginary gentleman from Zenda Castle in case all negotiations fail.”

“By God, Rassendyll,” said Sapt, “you astonish me! The plan is positively brilliant! Still, it has serious flaws. I cannot muster enough men to take the castle. And even if they could, how would we protect the king?”

“That is where I come in,” said Finn. “I will have to swim the moat and find a way to get inside by stealth. I will have to find out where the king is being held, then lower the drawbridge for you so that your attack can be made by surprise. If you can gain access to the castle, you will not need a lot of men. You will storm through the chateau on horseback and in the ensuing confusion, I will make my way next to the king and guard him with my life.”

“But how can you hope to accomplish that alone?” said Fritz.

“One man, alone, might penetrate the castle and escape detection,” Finn said. “If we attack at night, we may have a chance. But you will need to move with all possible speed once the drawbridge has been lowered. Our only advantage is in surprise.”

“It just might work,” said Fritz, “though the plan is insanity itself. You would be taking a tremendous risk. The odds are almost certain that you would be killed.”

“The odds are certain that I will be killed if we do not make the attempt,” said Finn. “In fact, if we do not, we are all dead men. You cannot watch over me indefinitely. If a man is a target for assassins, then he will surely die eventually. Sooner or later, Michael’s mercenaries will have me and once I am out of the way, Michael can contrive to stage Rudolf’s death in some manner that would not implicate him and that would serve him at the same time, just as you told me earlier, Sapt. With Michael in power, you can be sure that your lives would not mean a thing. In the event that I should disappear before the king is freed, my friends, I can only urge you to do likewise. Michael would waste no time in having you two murdered once I was disposed of.”

“In the event that Michael has you killed,” Sapt said grimly, “then he signs his own death warrant, come what may. Rest assured that you shall be avenged. On that, you have my word of honor and I care not what the cost.”

Finn felt a strange tightness in his chest. He and Sapt had known each other for scarcely three days, yet he knew-as did Sapt-that there had formed a strong bond between them. Physically, Sapt was older by a good many years, having never had the benefit of antiaging drugs that could extend his lifespan. Biologically, Finn had lived longer than Sapt had. The worlds that each existed in were separated by over seven hundred years. Yet, they were the same. Both cut from the same cloth. Both subscribers to a code of ethics that neither of them could have stated, yet each understood on some subliminal level that came not from the intellect, but from somewhere in the gut. Buddhists believed that that was the center of one’s being and perhaps, Finn thought, they knew something that no else did. Or, that all men knew, but few remembered.