Page 96 of A Night of Forever
“I have no bloody idea.”
Hadley looked up. “Well, we’d best hurry, because it’s going to get light soon and the tide is turning. They will be on the move shortly.”
“I’ll go back through the tunnel and go in alone. Maitland will take half the men but will stay behind me, hidden in the tunnel, and only enter once I have freed Isobel. Philip, you will take the other half of the men and attack from the front. Once you start the attack, I’ll enter and see if I can get Isobel out of harm’s way while they are distracted, then the rest of the men can attack down the tunnels. We will have her trapped.”
“I can give you ten minutes before I bring the rest of the men in through the tunnel.” Maitland’s words made Arend tense. There wasn’t a lot of time. As soon as Victoria thought she was under attack from the front, she could very well kill Isobel in order to make a quick escape through the tunnel.
As Arend crept back down the tunnel to the cave his heart pounded so loud he was sure it echoed in the enclosed space.
Approaching the spot where the tunnel entered the cave, where Victoria had posted a single guard, Arend drew out a small hollow pipe, carefully loaded a poisoned dart, and blew. The dart found the man’s face, and as the guard slowly slumped to the dirt with little more than a grunt, Arend thanked his lucky stars that the tribesmen in Brazil had taught him how to use the poisonous darts and had given him a pipe and a vial of poison when he’d left South America. He’d used one to kill the man who’d slain Jonathan, his partner, but had never thought he’d use them again. Silently he thanked his native friends once again.
He knew he’d have only one shot where Victoria was concerned, and it had been years since he’d practiced blowing the darts. The poison would take effect pretty much immediately, producing paralysis and then a slow agonizing death.
A fitting death for De Palma, or the woman who ran the Fleur de Lily, or whoever Victoria really was.
He cautiously made his way to the entrance of the cave and peered round the rock face. He spotted Isobel huddled on the far side of the cavern, an older gentleman sitting next to her. Thankfully, only one man stood guard.
He loaded his pipe once more but knew he’d have to creep closer. He took one step and immediately knew he’d made a mistake. His feet hit slippery stone and went from under him. He only had a second to blow before the wind would be knocked out of him from his fall. The dart flew off target hitting the man in the leg but the point must have gotten through his breeches, because with a surprised look on his face he fell with a thud to the floor.
Isobel jumped to her feet, pulling the old man with her, and scanned the cave wildly until she saw Arend. Carefully but swiftly, she made her way over to him.
She bent to help him to his feet while whispering to the older man, “Father, into the tunnel quickly.”
Her father? Arend wondered. But wasn’t he dead?
“Are you hurt?” she asked Arend.
“I’m fine,” and he gave a loud whistle—a signal to the men waiting to attack. He’d just pushed Isobel toward the tunnel when a shot rang out and a bullet whizzed past his head. He glanced over his shoulder to see Victoria throw the pistol away and reach for another.
He shouted for Isobel to run, but she wasn’t where he expected her to be. Arend’s heart ceased beating as he saw her lying facedown on the ground, either from slipping on the wet stones, as he had, or because Victoria’s bullet had hit her.
This time anger would not blind him. Filled with rage and hate, and with his adrenaline surging, he fumbled in his pocket for the third dart. He managed to load the pipe just as a bullet slammed into his left shoulder, throwing him off balance, and he slipped to the ground once again, the pipe rolling just out of his reach. Before he could scramble for the pistol tucked into the back of his pants, a shadow fell over him.
“Arend, well met. I underestimated you.” She did not seem to notice the pipe, for her foot accidentally kicked it closer to Isobel’s prone body as she leaned over him.
Arend snarled back at her, “I never underestimated you.”
She momentarily looked toward the entrance of the tunnel, where they both could hear Maitland and his men coming.
“It’s a pity I can’t draw out the delight in hearing your last breath on this earth, but I feel the need to flee.”
“You have nowhere to go. Our men are coming in the front of the cave and through the back tunnel.”
She laughed then, a madwoman’s laugh. She was finally beginning to crack.
“Take a look around the cavern. Do you think it only has two exits? I always plan ahead.”
Arend bit back his curse. She could be lying, but her confidence made him think she wasn’t bluffing.
She moved closer before glancing back at Isobel’s prone form. “Perhaps there is one way to make you rage for eternity in hell. The last thing you will get to see in this life is me taking Isobel’s life from her.”
She wasn’t dead already, then.Thank God.But then the blood ran cold in his veins and his mind searched frantically as he tried to conceal his desperation. He wasn’t afraid of dying. Sometimes he thought only death would ease his pain and guilt. What tore him up inside was knowing that because he’d dragged Isobel, innocent, beautiful Isobel, into his sordid existence, she would pay the price with her life. Just as Jonathan had.
Victoria held the advantage. He had a pistol tucked into the back of his breeches, but if he tried to reach for it, she could kill Isobel before his hand even touched the handle.
“It’s a pity she’s not conscious, or I could tell her the story of how you tried to refill your family’s coffers by prostituting yourself in Paris.” She leaned closer, “Mademoiselle Boldier boasted of your skills and size.”
Shame washed over him, and he gave thanks that Isobel and his friends could not hear the details about his deviant past.
