Page 117 of The Last Kingdom

“If we start to leave, they’re going to be waiting for us,” he said. “Just like they were back at the cathedral.” He told her about his suspicions. “Fenn had to know that Christophe was working with the prince. He sent us there to get arrested, or worse—which happened to Christophe.”

The guy had been a bit of an asshole, but he’d not wanted to see him dead.

“Does Fenn know about you?” she asked. “Or me?”

“Hard to say. I just met the man today. But it’s way too much of a coincidence that we were both sent with Christophe.”

“That would mean the prince and this man Fenn are working together.”

“I know. It makes no sense. But there’s no tellin’ where anyone’s allegiance lies. Until they show themselves.”

“Does that include me?”

Her windswept curly hair billowed about, her cold chin tucked into the collar of her wool coat.

“How about present company excepted.”

She smiled. “I’ll take that.”

Luke scanned the crowd, hard to see much beyond the press of bodies. So he stepped over to another concrete planter and hopped up, gaining three feet in height. Which helped. In the bright lights that illuminated the square he caught sight of uniformed officers entering the plaza on the far side and fanning out. He already knew there were police behind them.

He hopped down. “We’ve got lots of company coming this way.”

“Then let’s enlist the crowd.”

He caught the twinkle in her eye and agreed.

Why not?

* * *

STEFAN WAS TRAPPED, HIS MIND IN TURMOIL, HIS THOUGHTSuncharacteristically paralyzed with apprehension. But there was nothing he could do other than play this out and show no weakness. So he turned back from Knight, who still blocked his way to leave.

“You have always been impetuous,” Albert said. “Lots of hotheadedness, temper, and tantrums. Brooding and hatching one impractical scheme after another. There is simply nothing new, nothing unexpected, nothing to discover about you. But I am curious, what made you think you could ever be king?”

“You did.”

“Ja, I did. But before I revealed myself. What were you thinking?”

He stiffened his spine and stood tall. “I thought I was the only Wittelsbach with a backbone. You cared only for your stamps and your next meal. I wanted more for Bavaria.”

“No, Stefan. You wanted more for you.”

“I don’t make any secret of the fact that I would like to be king. Who wouldn’t? Other than you.”

“But I do want it. Very much, in fact. Which is why I have worked so hard to spur you along. Do you really think you would be a good king?”

“Of course. Better than you.”

“That’s where you are wrong. Being a king takes more than the desire to be one. It takes competence. Intelligence. And, above all, patience. This country will face enormous challenges once it votes to be free. The economy will be challenged. People will expect a high level of services. We will have to take our place among the world’s nations. I have thought about those challenges for a long time. Have you, Stefan? Have you given a single thought to anything, other than your coronation?”

He resented the condescending remarks. “Go to hell, Albert.” He faced Rife. “What was all that talk about at the embassy? All the plans. What you wanted me to do. More for show?”

“Not exactly. At that moment we needed you to keep moving forward as a necessary distraction. But my old pals at the CIA have worked fast. They are inside that castle, right now, solving the puzzle.”

“They have the deed?”

“Maybe,” Albert said. “But, at a minimum, they will point the way. Now it is time.”

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