Rook(108)

René finished laughing, head in hands as he leaned on a cask, Spear looking no less relieved. Then he looked at the firelighter, still in Spear’s hand.

“It is an interesting thing, is it not, that we can use a machine like this to control the time?”

“I suppose,” Spear replied.

“And Sophia has done an excellent job of ridding this prison of its occupants. It is quite empty, yes? And she has gotten herself away as well.”

“Yes. So?”

“Do you not think that after reinventing her plans with such success, it would be a shame to leave the best of them undone?”

Spear stared down at the firelighter, his eyes narrowed.

“What I mean to say, Hammond, is that I think we should blow this hole to bits. We have the time right here, in our hands.”

“Yes,” Spear nodded slowly. “I think you’re right. For Sophie. What time do we set it for?”



It didn’t matter what time she had set it for, after all. René would have found it too soon. The ache this knowledge caused was so strong it almost made the groping hands of the still searching gendarmes go away. Why did that tiny little sliver of hope keep dying only to be reborn? Then she took note of LeBlanc. He was staring down at his clock, an expression of frantic, hysterical disbelief on his face, a complete contrast to the clinical calm when she’d been slicing him with her sword.

“It is past highmoon?” LeBlanc looked at their faces, his voice rising to a shriek. Renaud took a step back. “We have missed the execution! The time that Fate herself decreed!”

Allemande pushed up his glasses, the gendarmes paused their further explorations, and then LeBlanc picked up his sword by the blade and inexplicably struck Renaud in the head with the hilt. Renaud crumpled, the picklock gone from his leg, Sophia saw, and then LeBlanc walked toward Tom, now with the proper end in his hand, blade out.

Sophia moved before the gendarmes knew she’d left their slackened grip. She barreled into LeBlanc with a yell, knocking him sideways before they were on her again, dragging her up by the arms.

“This is unseemly,” said Allemande. He waved a casual hand at the gendarmes. “Sit both the Bellamys down and use those chains. And Albert. Calm yourself and stop striking things.” Renaud picked himself up from the dirt, a small wound on his head.

“I will kill her,” said LeBlanc. He was shaking, a dirty, bleeding mess, and almost completely out of control. “I will kill them both!”

“Yes, yes,” said Allemande, “of course you shall. Albert, you look rather worse for wear. Am I right in thinking that you have arrested the wrong man … person?”

Sophia watched a spasm of genuine fear flit across LeBlanc’s face as she was thrown back against the stone pedestal. She glanced at the little man with the glasses. What must Allemande be if a monster like LeBlanc could fear him? LeBlanc struggled to smooth his cut and filthy robes.

“I … I can assure you, Premier …” His softness returned. “… that the Red Rook will soon die, and that the people will know it. And these red feathers that fight in the streets will be crushed.”

“Can you promise me that? Can you really? You know I take my promises seriously.”

LeBlanc nodded, eyes on the ground.

“And no more mysterious disappearances from the prisons, to keep you begging and consulting your Goddess? Can you promise me that as well?”

Sophia blinked as her shackle clicked shut. Allemande doesn’t know the Tombs are empty, she realized. He must have come straight down the lift and into … whatever this place was. And LeBlanc, she saw, hadn’t realized that Allemande didn’t know it, either. His hands worked in and out, clenching and unclenching as Allemande came and stood close to his back, head barely reaching his shoulder. Allemande spoke so softly it was difficult to hear.

“How, exactly, do you expect me to put stock in any promise you make, Albert? You did not even arrest a person of the correct gender. You know I do not tolerate disorder. This mob you have created is serving its purpose, but that will soon be done with. I do not care for your revenge, or your Goddess, or which Bellamy the people think is the Red Rook. As long as they see the Rook climb the scaffold and place his or her head on the block. We must be seen to be doing this properly. That is the essential thing. But you know what I like to do when it cannot be seen, don’t you, Albert? What I like to do when I am … disappointed in my friends.”

Sophia watched LeBlanc shake. Allemande pushed up his glasses, put his hands behind his back, turned, and started across the round room of bones. Then the spectacled eyes swiveled back to Tom. “Can that one walk?”

“Yes,” LeBlanc replied slowly. “But not well.”

“Be certain that he can make a decent show of himself on the way to the scaffold. Both of them. Are we clear on this?”

“Yes, Premier,” said LeBlanc. “But … we are agreed that this one limps, yes?” He indicated Tom, though his eyes slid over to Sophia.

“Yes, Albert, we are agreed on that.”

Allemande gathered his gendarmes while LeBlanc moved close to Sophia. LeBlanc’s voice was every bit as soft as Allemande’s, his breath in her face. “Tell me where the prisoners are, and I will spare you pain until your execution.”

She looked back at him and whispered, “I don’t think Allemande would approve.”