The Zenda Vendetta (TimeWars 4)

“What, Rassendyll, are you a doctor?” von Tarlenheim said, hopefully.

“I’ve studied medicine,” Finn said, improvising. “However, a thousand doctors wouldn’t do him any good right now.”

“What!” cried Sapt, with a look of horror on his face. “What are you saying? He’s not dead!”

“No, he’s not dead,” said Finn, “but he has every appearance of having been drugged.”

“Drugged!” said Fritz. Understanding dawned on him. “Michael! Damn the bastard! It was that last bottle, for a fact! Sapt, we have been taken for a pair of mighty fools! How on earth will we get him to the coronation now?”

“He won’t be crowned today,” said Finn. “My guess is that he won’t come around for at least eight or ten hours.”

Von Tarlenheim licked his lips. “This is a disaster,” he said. “We shall have to send word that he’s ill.”

“We are ruined,” said Sapt. “If he’s not crowned today, I’ll lay a crown he’s never crowned.” “But why?” said Finn. “Surely, it can’t be so serious?” “Serious?” said Sapt. “The whole nation will be there to meet him and half the army with Black Michael at its head. Shall we send word that the king is drunk?” “That he’s ill,” said Finn.

“Ill!” said Sapt. “His ‘illnesses’ are only too well known. Rudolf’s been ‘Ill’ before.”

“There’s nothing to be done,” said von Tarlenheim. “We shall simply have to put on a sober face and make the best of it. I say,” he paused, “that was a poor choice of words, under the circumstances.”

“I should have known,” said Sapt. “I should have known that he would try something of this sort, but I did not give him enough credit. He’s let Rudolf be hoist with his own petard!” He slapped the king again. “The drunken dog! Still, I’ll rot in hell before I see Black Michael sit on the throne in his place!” Sapt chewed furiously on one end of his moustache, his brow deeply furrowed.

“Surely, something can be done!” said von Tarlenheim, though his tone of voice did not hold forth much hope. Suddenly, Sapt looked up, staring at Delaney. Finn played dumb and simply stood there, looking bewildered, as did von Tarlenheim for a moment or two, until he realized what Sapt was thinking.

“No!” he whispered softly, looking from Sapt to Finn and back again.

“Yes, by God!” said Sapt. “It just might work!”

Finn gauged the moment right to “realize” what they intended, but he had to play it well. “Oh, no,” he said, stepping back from them and snaking his head.

“Rassendyll, do you believe in Fate?” said Sapt.

You don’t want to know, thought Finn.

“It was Fate that sent you here, man, and now it’s Fate that beckons you to Strelsau.”

“It would never work,” said Finn. “They’d know that I was not the king!”

“If you shave?” said Sapt. “Who would ever expect it? You’d be his spitting image.”

“I’d be bound to

make some blunder,” Finn said.

“We shall be beside you every moment,” Sapt said. “Granted, it’s a risk. Are you afraid, lad?”

“Sir!” said Finn, in mock outrage at the suggestion.

“Don’t take offense,” said Sapt, “it’s your life that will be on the line, and ours as well if we are caught. But if we do not make the attempt, it is a certain thing that Black Michael will be the one sitting on the throne tonight and the king in prison or even in his grave. You do not know Black Michael. Fritz will bear me out that I do not overstate the danger.”

“But what will the king say when he finds out?” said Finn.

“Who cares what he says?” said Sapt. “It’s his own worthless hide that we’ll be saving. I daresay that he might even learn from this, though I hold out no great hope. What do you say, man? In truth, you owe us nothing and not a man on earth could blame you if you were to refuse, but you’re the one chance that we have; you see that, don’t you?”

Finn decided that he made enough protestations for the sake of appearances. He looked down at the unconscious form of Rudolf Elphberg, wondering if perhaps Ruritania would not be better served by having his brother on the throne.

“Yes, of course, I see,” he said.

“You’ll do it, then?” said Sapt, eagerly. Finn took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “It’s insane,” he said, “but yes, I’ll do it.”