“No. But . . .” The footsteps halted again. “Morgan?”
“What? Now what are ye stoppin’ for?”
“Why’s the back door standin’ open?”
Sebastian could see the first housebreaker now. A tall, skinny lad dressed in a brown corduroy coat and baggy trousers, he held a shuttered horn lantern in one clenched fist, the muted light glowing golden on the smooth, unlined features of a youth probably no more than sixteen or eighteen. His gaze riveted on the open back door, he swallowed heavily, the movement visibly bobbing his Adam’s apple up and down. The lantern light quivered as his hand shook.
“What the ’ell?” said the older man, pausing on the step behind him.
“Ye think maybe the wind blew it open?”
“How the ’ell would I know? Go look.”
“Give me the pistol.”
“Why? Ye think Rawhead and Bloodybones are gonna git ye?”
“Stop laughin’ at me and jist give me the pistol.”
The older man grumbled but handed over a heavy horse pistol that looked like a relic of the Thirty Years’ War.
Sebastian held himself utterly still as the young housebreaker passed in front of him, the light from the lantern playing over the walls and jumbled treasures of the corridor. If the man had simply glanced around, he would have seen Sebastian quite easily. But the lad’s attention was fixed on the open door and the windswept terrace beyond. He was so nervous, Sebastian could see the barrel of his gun shaking; the lantern light danced and quivered.
“Well?” demanded the older man, reaching the top step. He was slightly shorter than his companion but considerably bulkier, with a thick neck, a powerful chest, and heavily muscled arms and legs. His features were blunt, his nose large and crooked, his beetle-browed gaze fixed, like the younger man’s, on the door to the terrace.
Then he turned his head and saw Sebastian standing no more than five feet away from him.
Chapter 20
“W
hat the ’ell!”
Jerking a large, curving knife loose from the sheath at his side, the ruffian rushed at Sebastian, the blade held over his head in a backhanded grip.
Seizing a heavy brass walking stick from the clutter atop the bureau beside him, Sebastian swung it up to block the blade’s vicious downward slash. Metal clanged against metal. But the power behind the blow was so intense that the impact reverberated down Sebastian’s left arm, and he staggered.
The housebreaker recovered instantly, his lips curling away from his teeth in a fierce rictus, his grip on the knife shifting. “Shoot ’im!” he yelled to the younger man by the door.
“I can’t! Yer in the way,” he screeched, the gun held straight out in front of him in a trembling grip, his voice rising an octave as he fumbled to set down the lantern.
“Bloody bastard,” growled the thick-necked man. He lunged again, driving the knife straight toward Sebastian’s heart.
Dancing sideways an instant too late, Sebastian felt the blade slice through the flesh of his ribs as he pivoted and drove his own dagger deep into the ruffian’s chest.
“Morgan!” cried the man from the doorway.
For one suspended moment, the ruffian froze, his heavy features a study in astonishment. Then he crumpled.
Sebastian tried to wrench his dagger free and felt it catch on the man’s ribs as he fell.
“You killed my brother!” screamed the young man at the door, the pistol held before him, his left hand coming up to steady his grip. His finger was just tightening on the trigger when the black cat stretched up and sank the claws of both front paws into his leg.
The man let out a sharp yelp. Belching flame, the pistol exploded in a deafening roar that filled the corridor with pungent smoke and a shower of pulverized plaster as the shot buried itself in the ceiling.
His jaw sagging in fear and fresh horror, the younger man threw away the now useless pistol and bolted out the door.
Sebastian wrenched his dagger free from the dead man’s chest with a violent shove that sent the body tumbling and thumping down the stairs. He could hear the younger man crashing through the overgrown wreck of a garden, frantic, stumbling blindly. By the time Sebastian erupted out the door into the wet, windblown night, the housebreaker was nearly to the ruined stables.
Gripping the gory dagger in his fist, Sebastian dashed across the terrace and leapt down the steps. A sharp branch snagged his coat; he jerked and heard the cloth rip as he pushed on. He could see the young