“Yes, you’re right, of course,” said Sapt. “Thank you, Rassendyll. I imagine that it must have happened almost exactly as you say. Detchard would have been with the guard, of course. Michael’s given the blackguard a commission. Possibly Bersonin, as well, maybe one or two of the others. The Six, that’s how they’re known. Black Michael’s private squad of bodyguards. A killer, each and every one of them. I see what must have happened now. The old woman somehow managed to alert them and Detchard and several of the others stayed behind while they sent the guard on ahead. They found the king, much as they expected to, killed poor Josef, and sent word on ahead to Michael that all was well. Only, having seen you, Michael knew that all was far from well. The moment he sees the real king, he’ll realize what we have done. And the old woman, of course, can tell him who you are. We are undone. We are completely undone. All is lost.”
“Where will they have taken the king?” said Finn.
“To Zenda Castle, undoubtedly,” said Sapt. “No hope of freeing him from there. The place is a fortress.”
“We must do something, Sapt,” Finn said. “We must get back and rouse every soldier in Strelsau.”
“And tell them what?” said Sapt. “That we had arranged for an imposter to be crowned while the real king lay drunk in Zenda? You forget, Rassendyll, that much of the army sides with Michael. How can we tell them what Michael has done without revealing our deception?”
“But the king may be murdered even as we sit here!” Finn said, trusting to the old soldier’s quick thinking to leap to the logical conclusion. Sapt did not disappoint him.
“No, by God!” he said, rising to his feet with a wild gleam in his eyes. “No, they can’t. They will not dare!”
Finn looked at him with feigned uncomprehension.
“We’ve shaken up Black Michael, by the Saints,” he said, “and we’ll shake him some more! Aye, we’ll go back to Strelsau, lad. The king shall be in his capitol again tomorrow!”
“The king?” said Finn, still playing dumb.
“The crowned king!” Sapt said.
“You’re mad!” said Finn. “We’d never get away with it.”
“If we go back now and tell them what we’ve done,” said Sapt, “what would you give for our lives?”
“Just what they’re worth,” said Finn.
“And for the king’s throne? Do you think for one moment that the nobles and the army and the people will sit still for being fooled the way we’ve fooled them? Will they love a king who was too drunk to be crowned and sent a servant to impersonate him?”
“He was drugged,” said Finn, “and I’m not his servant.”
“Mine will be Black Michael’s version,” Sapt said. “Can you disprove it?”
Finn chewed on his lower lip. “No,” he said. “You’re right, Sapt, that would be playing right into Michael’s hands.”
“So we do the one thing left for us to do! You must return with me and continue playing the king. Michael will know the truth, as will those who are in on his plot with him, but don’t you see, Rassendyll? They cannot speak! Just as we cannot speak for fear of revealing what we have done, so they are in the same predicament! Do they denounce you as a fraud, thereby revealing that they have kidnapped the king and killed his servant? No, they cannot. Michael has the king in his power now, true, and in that his plot has succeeded better than he had hoped. Your playing Rudolf enables him to keep the king a prisoner, but he cannot murder him, for that could make your impersonation a lifelong one. Nor can he produce the king to unmask you without unmasking himself, as well. It is a stalemate. A stalemate works in our favor. We need time to plan and you can buy us that time!”
“But suppose you’re wrong, Sapt,” Finn said. “Suppose they kill the king?”
“If you do not carry on with the charade, my friend, I can assure you that the king is as good as dead. We have
slipped away from the palace like thieves in the night, leaving poor Fritz to guard the royal bedchamber with orders to admit no one. Suppose Michael, having realized our plan, returns posthaste to Strelsau with Hentzau and some of the others in tow? Suppose he confronts Fritz and demands entrance to the royal bedchamber?”
“Von Tarlenheim will stand firm,” said Finn.
“Aye, that he will and against Michael alone he could hold the doors, but against Michael and Hentzau together? Hentzau by himself would not be deterred by Fritz. The man is the very devil of a swordsman and an expert marksman. So they kill Fritz, storm the royal bedchamber and the king is nowhere in evidence. The secret passageway will be discovered and it will be clear to all what has occurred. Having attended his coronation and quaffed wine at the banquet, the king slipped out the secret passage for some clandestine assignation. That is how Michael would construe it! And he would have the devil’s own confederates to back him up.”
“What do you mean?”
“I have lived as long as I have because as a soldier, I always asked myself, what strategy would I employ if I were in my enemy’s position? With no king in the palace, a frenzied search is made for him and as the search progresses, Michael moves to assure himself the throne. He has the king. He murders him. And then the king is ‘found’ in the bedchamber of some woman, killed by a jealous lover who recognized the man that he had slain and fled. If I were Michael, I would no doubt enlist the aid of the Countess Sophia, that woman you were staring at so fixedly when we passed the Grand Hotel. She has scarcely been in Strelsau for a month and already her reputation as a libertine is notorious. In any case, with the king in his power, Michael can murder him at will and dispose of the body in some such fashion and who will be able to gainsay him?”
“But so long as I’m alive and playing the king…” said Finn.
“Exactly.”
“Which means that Michael would have to dispose of me, first,” Finn said.
Sapt looked grim. “I will not try to deceive you, Rassendyll. There will be great risk, even greater than before. But without your help-”