Page 135 of The Last Kingdom

DERRICK INTENDED ON DRAWING RIFE TOWARD HIM. HE’D FLEDthe king’s bedroom and an adjacent anteroom, returning to the long vestibule outside the throne room. The entrance to the spiral staircase used earlier was at the far end, another spiral staircase opening to his immediate left. He knew that Malone and the others were on the other side of the floor, so he decided up was the way to go. He climbed the stone risers, making no attempt to mask his steps. What awaited him on the next floor? He had no idea. But one thing was certain.

Rife would follow.

’Cause that’s what fools do.

* * *

RIFE WORKED HARD TO CONTROL HIS RAGE.

He’d not been this angry since the day the CIA fired him. The insult of a lifetime. Out of left field. He’d never seen it coming. But others had. Which made the whole thing even worse.

Terry Knight had been loyal. When he’d asked him to join forces, Knight had never hesitated. He was a dependable field officer, always getting the job done. No questions. No complaining. All you could ever ask for in a friend.

Now he was dead.

He stepped from the last room, back into a large vestibule area. Footsteps echoed to his left, coming from a spiral staircase.

Moving upward.

Koger.

Announcing his presence.

Typical.

He gripped his gun.

And followed.

* * *

DERRICK CAME TO THE TOP OF THE STAIRCASE FINDING HIMSELF ONthe castle’s fourth floor. Much less lighting here, consistent with the building being shut down for the night. Four other portals exited out of the vestibule. One for the other spiral staircase at the far end, another to his left that led to the upper gallery of the throne room, and two that provided access to what a placard labeled as the Singers’ Hall. He recalled the curator mentioning it earlier. More paintings, all of German legend and high Romanticism, lined the vestibule walls.

He seemed unable to escape them.

He turned right and headed for the Singers’ Hall and entered a large rectangular space. Overhead a pinewood squared ceiling contained rich ornamental paintings and the signs of the zodiac. Its slanting sides rested on carved wooden supports loaded with images. Pillars rose periodically along the edges with more ornaments, arabesques, and allegorical representations. At the far short end was a dimly lit bower separated from the rest of the room by steps and three arcades, the murals behind it painted with a lively forest scene. Carved wooden benches with elaborate embroidery lined the long side walls, their coverings interwoven with gold thread. Gilded brass candelabra and chandeliers dotted the ceiling and parquet floor.

Big. Roomy. Old, but still decorous.

Perfect.

“Rife,” he called out. “I know you can hear me. Let’s settle this man-to-man. No guns. Just us.”

* * *

RIFE STOOD JUST PAST THE SPIRAL STAIRCASE, ON THE FOURTH FLOORin another vestibule, and heard the challenge. The voice came from the open portal to his right, the one that led into what was identified as the Singers’ Hall. He turned and entered, spotting Koger standing fifty feet away, inside a dimly lit cavernous space. The big man tossed his gun aside and held both arms outstretched at his sides.

“You and me,” Koger said.

He tossed his own weapon away.

And accepted the challenge.

* * *

DERRICK CAUGHT THE HINT OF A SHADOW, THEN A BLACK FIGUREslithered into view, slow, cautious, and, as he reminded himself, full of deadly skill.

Luckily he knew about a street fight.