“True,” Charles said. “But the thing with Royce is you never can tell. For all anyone knows, he might already have Carstairs safe and sound at Kings Lynn, just waiting for the right moment to head south.”

Deverell nodded. “Will Royce play a bluff, or a double bluff? There’s no way to predict which way he’ll jump, or what he has planned.”

After a moment, Logan raised Wolverstone’s missive again, turned a page. “There’s more. Our orders. We’re to proceed to Bedford tomorrow, where further orders will reach us at the Swan Hotel. He-Wolverstone-doesn’t expect us to encounter any serious opposition tomorrow, but he warns we should be prepared for a major ambush the next day. He suggests we leave early and try to ensure any action occurs beyond Cambridge. The Cynsters will be holding themselves ready to assist from the environs of Cambridge on.”

Charles nodded. “Just as we thought.”

Logan laid down Wolverstone’s letter, stared at the map. After a moment, he said, “There’s just one thing. I’ve learned the hard way never to trust the Black Cobra. Royce is assuming Ferrar needs to be present to direct any major action, and while I admit I’ve never known cultists to act independently of some higher command-presumably Ferrar-in all the months we spent in the field fighting them, none of us caught so much as a whiff of Ferrar himself.”

“That suggests”-Linnet continued his deduction-“that Ferrar has henchmen he can trust-some at least-to direct others in the field, so he can give orders and have them carried out even if he isn’t there. So it’s possible he might already have put plans in place for dealing with us-not us specifically, but any courier coming in from this direction.”

Logan nodded, met Deverell’s eyes. “We have eight men following us-doing nothing but following us. It’s plain there’s an ambush up ahead somewhere, but where? Will it be this side of Bedford, or this side of Cambridge? If I were Ferrar, I wouldn’t want it to be later. And even though Del and company reduced his numbers in this area by fourteen, Ferrar has many more men than that.”

“On the ships we incapacitated,” Linnet said, “there were at least thirty cultists, and most of them would have survived.”

“Put yourself in Ferrar’s shoes.” Logan looked at Charles and Deverell. “He now knows, or at least suspects, that the couriers are all heading toward Elveden, that area at least. He knows he’s facing couriers coming from the south and southeast, and that chances are one will come from the west. He has unlimited men.” He waved at the map. “If you were he, where would you station a body of men to stop a courier from the west?”

Both Charles and Deverell looked at the map, then Deverell pointed. “Somewhere here- west of Cambridge.”

Charles nodded. “You’re right. They won’t stop us tomorrow, not before Bedford. It’s only once we leave there that we become an active threat-on our last day of travel to Elveden. He doesn’t want us to reach Elveden, so he’ll step in and stop us decisively- before Cambridge.” Leaning his forearms on the table, he frowned at the map. “But Royce wants us to avoid them until after Cambridge.”

“That’s not my primary concern.” When the others all looked at him, Logan said, “As you noted, Ferrar will have only one aim-to stop us, crush us, before we reach Cambridge. The group he’ll have left to accomplish that will be large. He’ll have set it up along his usual pattern-massive numbers to smother the opposition and so be certain, absolutely certain, of victory.” He met Deverell’s gaze, then glanced at Charles. “As experienced as we are, we cannot face a force like that and win, not before we make contact with the Cynsters.”

Charles pulled a face, looked down at the map.

Long moments passed as the four of them studied the predicament they faced. “Even if we remove those eight cultists tonight…” Deverell grimaced. “Unlikely we can, not without risking our lives prematurely.”

Charles nodded. “Much as I hate to admit it, you’re right. We can’t take out all eight at once.”

Her eyes on the map, Linnet leaned forward. “We don’t need to. Tomorrow, all we need to do is remove the four keeping us in sight.”

Deverell frowned. “The other four will simply take their place.”

“Not if they don’t know which way we’ve gone, or where we plan to spend tomorrow night.” Linnet looked at Logan, then at the other two. “They can be reasonably certain we’re heading to or past Cambridge, but they can’t know we’re going via Bedford.” She placed her finger on the map. “We’re here, at Oxford. Eventually, we need to pass here-Cambridge or just south of it. As you said, that’s where they’ll have stationed their main body of men. But we need to spend one night on the road between here and there-we could be planning to halt at Stevenage, Luton, Dunstable, Letchworth, Baldock, Hitchin, or any number of smaller towns. They don’t know which, and they can’t tell-which is why we have eight men just following us. They want to make absolutely certain they know where we’ll be, and, most importantly, which road we’ll be taking to Cambridge.”

“Granted,” Logan said.

“So if tomorrow we get rid of our four followers at a point before our destination becomes obvious, and get on and out of sight before the other four realize and ride hard to find us, then they simply won’t know which way we’ve gone, and they’ll have to keep their force where it is, spread out and waiting until they learn where we are, which way to turn.”

Deverell was nodding. “And if we leave before dawn the next day, we’ll have a chance to race past and into Cambridge before they can get their troops into position.” He smiled at Linnet. “That might work.”

“Indeed.” Charles leaned closer, looking down at the map. “All we need now is to find the right site to remove our four faithful followers.”

In the end, it was, once again, Linnet who came up with the best plan.

Late night

Bury St. Edmunds

“I still can’t believe it!” Alex strode, all sleekly suppressed violence, into their bedroom.

Daniel followed and closed the door. He paused, then said, “It is… something of a shock.” He focused on Alex, now pacing before the fire. “I had no notion Roderick could be so… unbelievably stupid.”

Arms folded, Alex paced violently. “Clearly he can-clearly he has been. I can not get over him using our real names-putting them on paper in black and white-and then forgetting the fact completely, focusing solely on the threat to him, on the fact he was also stupid enough to seal the Black Cobra’s letter with his personal seal!”

His own head in a whirl, Daniel walked to the bed and sat down. Alex might think much faster than he, yet sometimes it paid to state the facts clearly. “We still need Roderick. Assuming he manages to get all four copies of the letter back, as he’s promised-and he’s already successfully secured the copy Delborough was carrying-”

“Thank the gods!” Alex swung around, pinned Daniel with an icy gaze. “If he hadn’t, we, you and I, my dear, wouldn’t have had the first inkling of the danger in which, thanks to Roderick, we now stand.”

“True. However, he now has one of the four copies and will hie off tomorrow with enough men to make sure of seizing the second from Hamilton.” Daniel inclined his head at Alex’s pointed stare. “And yes, I’ll be at his side to ensure he keeps his mind fixed firmly on what now must be our primary goal-seizing all copies of that letter.”

“Good. You, I trust. Roderick…” Alex’s eyes glittered coldly. “I have to confess I’m having serious second thoughts about our dear half brother.”

“Let’s wait until we have all the letters back-then, I admit, we need to rethink.” Daniel caught Alex’s cold gaze. “Just you and me… that would be so much easier. But eliminating Roderick now is too dangerous-not here in England. After this manic time is over and we’re back in India, safe and secure in the bosom of the cult, then we can reassess.”

Alex’s lips thinned. The silence lengthened.

Then Alex stated, voice coldly precise, “We came here to support Roderick, thinking it was only his neck at risk. Now we discover that if anyone who knows of us, of our link with him, sees that letter, even just a copy, they’ll recognize the implication and, far more than dear Roderick’s, it will be our heads in the noose.”

Daniel was still coping with that realization himself; he had no difficulty understanding Alex’s fury. Barely restrained savagery seemed appropriate. But… he forced his mind to push through the shock, to revisit the details. “We’ve been careful, you and I. I can’t think of anyone other than our sire likely to be shown the letter, copy or otherwise, who would instantly comprehend our part in the cult.”

After a long moment, Alex slowly nodded. “True.”

“If Roderick proves himself worthy of our support by retrieving all four copies of the letter, then we can be magnanimous and let him live.” He met Alex’s icy gaze. “For now.”

A tense moment passed, then Alex blew out a breath. Nodded. “For now.”

Like a puppet whose strings had been cut, Daniel flopped back on the bed. Stared at the canopy overhead.

Another moment passed, then Alex appeared in his line of vision, halting at his feet to look down at him.

Daniel arched his brows.

“When this is all over, Roderick will pay.”

Daniel’s smile was genuine. “Oh, he will. We’ll make sure of it.”

Alex nodded, eyes on his. “Take off your clothes.”

Daniel’s smile took on a lascivious edge. “With pleasure.”

Fifteen

December 20, 1822