Page 143 of The Last Kingdom

“I already have it,” Trinity said. “That’s where we’re headed.”

He caught her tone.Cut me some slack. I’m worried too.And, I’m thinking.“You forgive an old fool for being a prick?”

“I can take a hit,” she made clear.

“I know you can. I just shouldn’t add ’em on.”

* * *

COTTON HAD BEEN LED AT GUNPOINT ACROSS THE DARKENEDgrounds, through a trellis-walk devoid of plants to an open park, then up an incline, the going slowed by Ming and his cane. Everything was dusted with snow, all of the statuary and fountains boxed off with plywood for the winter. They’d followed a graveled path to a paved one. The presence of two trained assets added an extra element of risk to this endeavor. What had someone once said?Gut instinct is your greatest critic. Listen to it.

Oh, yeah.

He was listening.

“Ludwig II called this placemeicost ettal,” Fenn said. “It’s an anagram ofL’etat c’est moi. I am the state. He had such a sense of irony.”

“He was a man ahead of his time,” Albert added. “I’ve always found it gratifying how so many people admire him today.”

Lots of ambition surrounded him. Ludwig’s palace. China’s drive to dominate the world. The duke wanting a crown and kingdom.

“So you’re the kingmaker?” he asked Fenn.

“If that is what you want to call me.”

“He has been a good friend to my family,” Albert said. “Without his resources we would not be here.”

“And your brother?” Cotton asked.

“He gets peace,” Albert said.

They turned on the path and kept walking through the cold. Light snow fell in scattered flakes. Here he was again, taking chances, playing the odds, challenging the risks. He’d taken those for God and country, for his son, Cassiopeia, his dead friend Henrik Thorvaldsen, even his ex-wife. This time it was for Stephanie Nelle, whether she wanted his help or not.

So, in a sense, he and Fenn were similar.

Both were trying to elevate someone else.

But something didn’t sit right. The Chinese rarely showed their hand. They were notorious for staying in the shadows. Yet here they were, front and center. Taking point on this advance into the unknown. No doubt existed that he’d be killed once the information he gave had been verified.

Ming stopped for a moment and made a call to his men bird-dogging Dianne McCarter, telling them all was good here.

So he’d bought another hour.

And he planned to make the most of it.

“There it is,” Fenn said, pointing. “The Venus Grotto.”

But he also saw something else.

Two more men with guns.

Standing guard. Waiting.

Great.

The odds just got even worse.

Chapter 80

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