make more noise. After they empty their guns, have at them.”
“The point of all this is wasted if you, the agent we were assigned to deliver, is shot and killed,” Butron objected.
I couldn’t agree with him more. “I am rather important.”
“And nefarious, we’re told. Devious, wily, and unscrupulous.”
“Calculating. Never fear, I’ll fall flat and trust the inaccuracy of their muskets. I’ve been shot at before.”
“Yes, your reputation is of being everywhere, on every side, and somehow surviving,” the comtesse said, a little ardor finally in her tone. “I knew you were brave, Monsieur Gage, but this amounts to sacrifice.”
That was more like it. “No sacrifice is too great for a beautiful woman. Captain, please get ready.”
So up I scrambled rather ingloriously on all fours, dragging cloaks and staves. Random gunshots banged below. Peering into the dark, I could just make out movement at the head of the ravine.
I balanced on a precarious perch, thrust the staffs into the soil, and draped coats on them. “Now, now, give it to their flank!” I shouted in French, fluent from my earlier years in Paris. I aimed my pistol and pulled the trigger.
It snapped uselessly. Soaked.
“By Franklin’s lightning rod,” I muttered. I’d dunked the piece in the ocean, hadn’t I? I have a habit of not thinking my daring through. The enemy soldiers shouted, trying to spy me, and one musket went off, the bullet buzzing. At least my cartridges and powder flask were wrapped in oilskin. It took what seemed like a century to unwrap, reload, wipe the flint, and add a pinch of fresh powder to the pan.
Another enemy bullet came, striking close.
I pulled again.
The pistol banged, the flash giving my position away. Then a humming through the air as my companions hurled stones and clods in my direction to mimic a rattle of footsteps. One elicited a quite realistic cry from me as it smacked my thigh. I fell.
Just as I did, the enemy patrol let off its volley. Bullets hit all around, and I flinched so violently that I began to slide back down the slope. I clutched at the walking sticks to arrest my fall and instead they pulled free, so I had an armful of canes and coats as I bounced toward the bottom.
“We got one!” the enemy cried.
“Charge!” Captain Butron shouted.
I skittered, bumping and filthy, all the way back to where I’d started. Upslope I could hear shouts, curses, and gunfire as my escort collided with the blocking soldiers. Then a cheer, but from which side I knew not.
Well, it wasn’t as if I had a choice. I stood, wincing from a twisted ankle, and ascended the trail with my arms full of coats and staffs, like a limping laundress. Along the way I came upon Comtesse Marceau, sitting in the mud because she was weaponless. “Come, the fight’s over,” I said, freeing an arm to haul her up.
She didn’t volunteer to carry anything. “Is it safe?”
“I don’t know if we won or lost, but it’s settled in either event.”
“Are you shot, monsieur?” Was there at least a hint of concern?
“A sprain from hurrying to reinforce you and our companions.”
“You are indeed a gambler.”
“When the winnings are enticing.” I winked, which she couldn’t see it in the dark.
We awkwardly climbed the last slippery yards and emerged on farmland. Butron’s smile was a reassuring crescent in the night. Some bodies lay in high grass, but the other surviving soldiers had fled. The comtesse and I were soaked and smeared, the hood of her cloak fallen back to reveal her sodden mass of curls. I put an arm around her waist and gave her a squeeze, hip to hip, figuring I deserved it.
“Well done, Captain,” I said.
“And the same to you, Monsieur Gage. You make a splendid scarecrow.”
“Did we fight the army?”
“The Gendarmerie Nationale. And the Customs Service.”
“I’m afraid your greatcoats have a few bullet holes. Save them to show your grandchildren and embroider the story.”
“No embroidery is necessary. But we had some help with this adventure. The Coastal Patrol was assaulted from two sides.”
He pointed, and more figures came out of the gloom. Waiting allies! Perhaps the royalist conspiracy wasn’t so desperate after all.
And then my world reeled. One of our rescuers had the slimness of a woman and moved with astonishingly familiar grace, and she carried a small child in her arms. The sky was black as Hades, dripping with rain, and she was bundled like a czarina, and yet I’d recognize her form anywhere.