Chapter Fifteen: Assassin
Victor
Working at my desk, I glance at the clock. Everyone should be in their rooms for the evening. I still have enough time to get to town.
I go to the stable and saddle one of the horses. An older gelding, he protests sleepily, but resigns himself to plodding down the dark road. He fusses at the bit, tossing his head. If it were daylight, I'd get down and whip him. Obstinate creature.
I arrive at the house and see a light still glows inside one of the rooms. Knocking lightly, I step in and go to the sitting room.
"I wondered when you were coming back." Edgar Ragache sits behind his desk, a half empty bottle of liquor in front of him.
"You know I don't want to be followed." The man is an imbecile. "Is he here yet?"
"Yes, he's at the village inn," he replies tiredly.
"Good. We need to move swiftly. There are so many gossips around the village that news will reach the sanitarium."
"What's the matter Herr Frankenstein? Afraid you'll tarnish your reputation if they find you've hired a killer?" He laughs dryly. His own reputation ruined by his attack on Therese and Astrid, he revels in the thought that mine will be blemished as well.
I stride forward and slam my fists down on his desk. The bottle nearly topples, and his surprised eyes peer at me. "Edgar, there are lives at stake here. I want this man hunted down and destroyed. If I don't get him first, he won't stop until he's wiped out my family."
He attempts to sit up straighter. I think the stupid ape is finally listening to what I have to say. "Alright," he holds up hands to placate me. "When do I tell him to start?"
"I'll tell him. What is his name?"
"Claude Brettelle."
I turn away, but his voice stops me at the door, "Don't forget our bargain, Victor. I provide your assassin and you provide my poor cousin Thomas."
"Just keep out of sight until I tell you." I slam the door on my way out.
Being anywhere near that sad excuse for a man makes my flesh crawl. It is bad enough I must rely upon him for this. Once this is all over, I'll have my marksman take care of Ragache after he puts a bullet through that demon's brain.
I'll win at last, you monster.
Michael
I watch Victor leave. The light is still on in the house. Going slowly through the door, I listen. I could hear Victor's voice from beyond the wall, so I doubt there is any else in the house. I enter slowly through the door.
Edgar Ragache is just reaching for his glass. "What now, Victor?" The bored look on his face dies and his eyes widen. He knocks over the bottle on the desk as he tries to pull back the desk drawer.
Swifter than a man, I take three strides and shove him over backwards in his chair. He tumbles, and tries to scramble away from me. I grab a hold of his coat front and lift him by it. His hands flail at me and one strikes me across the face. For that, I shove him into the wall behind him, and the plaster cracks behind his back.
His eyes are even larger; he now holds his hands up in front of his face as if he could ward me off. "What's the matter Ragache," I ask. "Hasn't Victor told you about me?"
He swallows heavily and shakes his head. "What are you?"
I smile and it must be quite nasty to behold, for he wets himself. I let him down and he lunges for the drawer again. I casually reach across the desk and pulling on the drawer, pin his hand inside. With my face close enough that our noses could touch I tell him, "I'm the man Victor hopes to kill."
Grasping his wrist none too gently, I pull him towards a chair and give him a shove onto it. "Explain to me Victor's plans."
"Are you going to kill me?"
I sit on the corner of the desk and look at him. "I'm not a killer." I take off my coat and toss it on the desk. Pulling off my shirt, I let him see the larger of my scars. "This is what Victor did to me after I died."
His mouth has gone slack, and his eyes follow the large scar down my torso. He stops to look at my scared hand. I reach out and snatch his chin; he emits a mewling noise as I turn his eyes up to mine. "Talk."
"He sent for a man, he's at the inn right now." He avoids my eyes as he speaks, like a whipped dog. "He was an army marksman."
I let a half laugh escape my lips. "Victor's getting smarter, which means he is more desperate than ever." I look at the man before me. "I don't want to see your face again. Do you understand me?"
He shakes his head vigorously, shying away from me as I stand and put my shirt on. As my arm slides through my coat, I point a finger at him and he flinches. "This is for hurting Therese." I backhand him just hard enough to knock him out.
Leaving, I hurry back to the sanitarium.
Therese
I hear Michael's voice. A cold hand rubs my arm and startles me awake. I see him standing over me in his coat.
"Get up, Therese. We must leave now." His voice is urgent.
I pour the cold water from the jug on my dresser in to the basin, and wash hurriedly. My haste makes my hands shake as I put on layers of clothing as Michael has instructed me to. After shoving my feet into thick socks, I pull out the leather boots that I hid under my bed. Michael stole them from someone for me. I regret the theft, but these boots will carry me across the mountains.
Thomas
I am almost ready to retire when I hear footsteps and a knock upon my door. I call out for the person to enter. I am shocked to see Michael with Therese beside him. He never comes through the building. "Michael? What's happened?"
"I followed Victor. He's gone to Ragache to hire a marksman," Michael speaks quickly. "He will be back soon, I think."
Therese steps forward. She is dressed in layers of clothing under an old coat someone gave her. She throws her arms around my neck and hugs me with a desperation born of fear. "We're leaving," she says.
I give her a firm hug, holding her to me. "I love you, lass." Raising my hands to cradle her face I see she has tears in her eyes. "Be safe, love. I'll look for you in France."
She flashes one of those brave smiles at me. "We'll find you, Thomas."
"All my prayers go with you both." I let her go. This is her journey, and I cannot be a part of it.
Michael
"Be careful," I tell Thomas. "I don't know what else Victor and Ragache are planning."
Taking Therese's arm we head for the kitchen. She goes quickly to a pantry, and I spread out the sheet she took to pack the food in it.
"I'm going over to the abbey. I'll be right back," I tell her and turn.
Just inside the door is the woman I recognize as Frau Radmacher. She takes a step backward, a hand clenched before her stomach. "It's true," she says softly.
Therese
Michael has stopped in the doorway, I hear the Frau's voice. I drop the bread I held and hurry towards her. Reaching out to her, I pull her inside the kitchen as Michael steps back.
She takes a step forward, turning to me. "I didn't really believe it." She looks at Michael again. "You're the man he made."
Michael nods his head slowly.
"Herr Jaeger?" The disbelief in her voice is heart wrenching.
"Yes," he replies.
"He's my husband now, Frau Radmacher. Victor is on his way with a man to kill him."
Her eyes become fierce, "Let's get you some food." Without another glance at Michael, she turns towards the table.
Michael
I run to the abbey and up the stairs. Throwing on my extra clothes, I grab a sack and toss in the stubs of candles I have and the flint. I glance down at my books. They have been my companions for so long I am loathe to leave them behind. I toss them into the sack: they have been a part of the journey to this day, they will continue on my journey with me. Rolling up my blankets and tying them with a bit of rope, I leave to join my wife.
I look around the loft one last time. My life here is finished. Whether Therese and I survive is in the hands of God now.
Therese is waiting inside the door by the washing hut. Around the far side of the building, no one will see us leave from there. Thomas has come out, and Frau Radmacher stands by the door. Therese hugs them quickly, and comes to me. When we reach the cover of the trees, I raise a hand in farewell.
Victor
The man was getting drunk next to the fire in the inn. He doesn't look so impressive with his coat thrown open and his hand tucked down the blouse of one of the local women. Her florid face is screwed up into a leer as his thick lips work on her neck and her hand strokes him through his trousers.
I give the bench they are sitting on a kick with my boot. The hag opens her eyes to squint at me. I take out a few coins and toss them on the table in front of her. She pulls away from her would be seduced and scoops up the coins in her hand. Her lover protests, and yanks on her bodice. She moves away from us, fixing her clothing, to find another man to bed.
"Bretelle?" He straightens up, and looks almost coherent. I am surprised. Maybe the army taught him that.
"Yes."
"Outside," I tell him.
He glances towards the one window in the room. "Not tonight. I'm not an owl you know."
"Now," I tell him. Turning I leave the inn.
I sit on my horse, and after a few minutes he appears with a bag. He saddles a mule, and ties his bag to it. Leaving, I look to see if anyone is watching. I hope it is late enough that the gossips are all abed.
"Tomorrow I will be leaving the Sanitarium north of here with my wife for a few days. There is a man there, very tall, dark haired and scarred. You may only see him briefly. When it is possible, I want him killed."
