Act Three, Part Four

Artie found his new route downstairs quickly enough, along with… "What a mess!" He stared at the rubble of what had once been a display of exquisite, expensive vases, only a handful of the elegant ceramics having survived. "Well," he told himself, "just more proof that James was here. And there's the door I was looking for!" He crossed to the heavily timbered door that was clearly labeled as leading to the dungeons, pondered briefly what the price tag of one krufko might mean, and headed down into the dark.

Here Artie found still more evidence that Jim had passed through, most particularly the wreckage of a table along one wall of this small subterranean room. He noted the scuff marks that showed where — what, two or three? — bodies had lain. Not much blood; presumably the bodies in question had left again under their own power. Artie then turned his attention to the locked door in this anteroom, converting it quickly into an unlocked door.

Beyond were the cells of the dungeon. Artie passed them one by one, shining his light within and asking of each prisoner whether he had seen a man in blue that day, along with which of the cells would hold Capt Koloshko. He received an interesting variety of responses, everything from close-mouthed disregard of his presence to screaming, flailing assaults on the blessedly locked cell doors. A couple of the prisoners, though, gave him replies to his questions. Granted, one of those replies involved a snarl of "The Traitor!" along with an impressively large gob of spittle landing on Artie's boot. With a polite "Thank you so much," Artie moved on out of that inmate's range.

Another of the prisoner's, by contrast, came to his cell door and cheerfully answered Artie's every question. Oh, yes, he had seen a man in blue that day; he'd been at the tail-end of the final group of rock-throwers. Nice fellow, that one. Hadn't lobbed a single rock. Hadn't ratted out the prisoner on the hunk of food one of the rock-throwers had smuggled in either. And the Traitor? Last cell of all, on around the corner there. Quiet fellow though, not likely to say much to a visitor. Oh, but it wouldn't happen that he could get rewarded for answering the questions, would it? Say, a piece of cheese or a swallow of whiskey? Hadn't had anything decent to drink in ages…

Artie was about to say No to the cheese when the fellow brought up the whiskey. After a moment's hesitation, Artie nodded, pulled out a hip flask, and handed it over. The prisoner's eyes lit up with glee; in less than a second he had the cap off the flask and upended it. With a sigh of satisfaction, he wiped his mouth on his sleeve and held out the flask to return it. "Kedurshte djo!" he exclaimed, his grin displaying a mouthful of rotting teeth as he thanked his benefactor effusively.

Artie took a second look at the prisoner, particularly at the state of his mouth, and waved off the flask. "Just… just keep it. You go ahead and keep that."

The grin expanded till it nearly split the man's face in two. "Kedurshte djo!" he exclaimed again. "Kedurshte djo!"

Artie nodded, his own smile watery at best, and moved on, rounding the corner his informant had indicated.

And there he was, the Traitor, the most hated man in Pterovnia, sitting quietly in his prison cell thoroughly engrossed in braiding his beard.

"Capt Koloshko!" Artie called out quietly.

The man started and whirled, then gaped at him, blinking. "Why, Artemus Gordon! You as well?" Koloshko clambered to his feet and came to the door, holding out a hand in greeting. "But then, of course, I should have expected to see you also, after your partner's visit earlier."

Artie shook the captain's hand and began to frame a question, only to be drowned out with, "I am afraid Mr West was not very happy with me. I could tell him nothing, nor will I be able to satisfy your curiosity either, my friend."

"Then you know nothing about Mireje's kidnapping?"

"No, I can tell you noth… Mireje? Mireje? Kidnapped?"

The change in the Traitor was astonishing. He went from chin-high self-assurance to wide-eyed horror in less than a second. He slammed a hand over his mouth and half-turned to stare up at the tiny barred window high up in the wall above his head, then pivoted back again. "They… That is what they were hinting at? That Baroness Mireje would be kidnapped?" His eyes blazed with fury.

"Who hinted?" asked Artie. "What are you talking about? What happened?"

Koloshko strode across his cell, glanced briefly at the man at his door, then dropped to one knee. It was difficult for Artie to see what the prisoner was doing, but he seemed to be scrabbling at the rocks of the wall. Moments later he stood up and returned to the cell door, rapidly unrolling a small slip of paper. "There," he said. "Read that!"

…

"Ruritania," Jim echoed. "That's the nation just west of Pterovnia. They crowned a new king not too long ago. A year or two back, as I recall."

"You recall well," the Brit beamed. "Or at least, you know the official story. There was indeed a coronation, but it did not run very smoothly — no, not at all. It seems that Rudolf V of Ruritania had a younger half-brother, the Duke of Strelsau, known more commonly as Black Michael, who was barred from the throne as being the offspring of their royal father's second, morganatic marriage. Black Michael, taking it into his head to have the throne after all, arranged for his brother Rudolf to be, ah… indisposed the morning of the coronation, intending to force matters into such a crisis that he would be welcomed with open arms by the distressed populace and thus become king anyway. Unfortunately for Michael, a distant cousin who happened to be a dead ringer for the king — yes, even to the point of sharing the king's Christian name! — was in town for the coronation. This second Rudolf was pressed into service to stand in for the royal version and held the throne for some weeks, until at last he and the king's men were able to liberate the real king, whom Black Michael had been holding prisoner within his estates at Zenda for all that time. And so the king reigned and his brother died, and their cousin disappeared back into the woodwork. A happy ending all around!"

"And you're telling me this why?" said Jim.

"Because it has bearing on our current situation. In fact, parts of it were directly inspirational! You see… ah, but are you familiar at all with Pterovnia's other neighbor, the nation to our east?"

"I believe that would be Carpania."

"You believe correctly, Mr West. There is a man in Carpania who, like Black Michael before him, greatly desires to reign. He is not a close relation to the king of Carpania, being a baron and not a duke. Having watched the career of Black Michael and taken instruction from it, he has in mind to take the throne not of his own country, but of a neighbor's."

"Meaning Pterovnia."

"Oh, very good, Mr West! You catch on so quickly! Yes, Baron Von Stuppe, learning that there was already a group of incipient revolutionaries here in Pterovnia, decided to take advantage of them by sending his own man to…" He smiled. "…infiltrate."

"And that would be you."

"Oh, yes! We borrowed from the events in Ruritania the idea of a double — though not, of course, of the king — as well as the notion of a new king sweeping in to take over after a destabilizing event. In our case, that event shall be the assassination of King Stepanko. On the heels of that, Baron Von Stuppe shall arrive, put down the revolutionaries, be acclaimed the Savior of Pterovnia, and accept her crown to reign as Rodrich I, naming his very young son Rolfe as Crown Prince. An excellent plan, wouldn't you say?"

"If it works. And this double? Where is he now?"

Ichko consulted his watch. "He should be ready to go any moment now… Ah, and here he is!"

Down the hallway came the pair of minions Jim had already fought twice, both men looking somewhat the worse for the wear, and between them…

Well, it was a bit like looking in the mirror. The double eyed Jim in return, smirking smugly. "Why, what am I doing in that cage?" he said, and his voice, like his face, was a decent copy of Jim's as well.

"You'll never get away with it," said Jim.

"You'd like to think so," replied his double.

"I know so," said Jim. "You'll never get past my partner. He'll peg you as ringer in a heartbeat."

"He might," said Ichko. "But we have it on good information that your partner is currently scouring the whole of Lyuko looking for you. And in his absence from the New Palace… yes, I believe we have a prime opportunity to strike our blow!"

"You never will get away with it!" came a new voice echoing Jim's words. And from behind another stack of crates in the hallway stepped forth none other than Niko, the gun in his hand leveled at his right-hand man the Brit.

…

"Where'd this note come from?" Artie asked, accepting it and shining his light upon it.

Koloshko nodded towards his only window. "Three nights ago that note was thrown into my cell. Even if it had been broad daylight at the time, it is impossible for me to see anyone outside through that window, not unless they press right up against the bars. But it was night and I saw no one."

"But you kept the note."

"I had some idea that I might need it later. But I had no idea that this is what it refers to!"

Artie nodded absently, reading the note. It was in Pterovnian, and said:

Three days from now a great uproar shall come upon this city, and it is highly likely that blame for it shall fall upon you. If you are interrogated, we request that, for your love of the king, you only smile and say nothing, and we shall seek your security.

"And — no signature," Artie added.

Koloshko nodded grimly. "Now I know why, in questioning me, Mr West laid such emphasis on my love of the king! And he is right! What man who loves His Majesty would do such a thing to him as to steal his bride? Who are they? What are they up to? Why have they done this?"

Artie sighed and slipped the note into a pocket. "Well, Captain, apparently like Jim before me, I was really hoping you would know!"

…

Niko stepped forward, the gun in his hand aimed steadily at the Brit. "You seem to have forgotten, Ichko, that this…" His eyes glittered. "…Pterovnian fool speaks very good English."

"How long have you been listening?" asked Jim.

Niko smiled grimly. "A very long time, Mr West. Long enough to have my eyes fully opened. There were many occasions on which I had to restrain myself from running out and confronting this, this betrayer, but I wished to hear it all, and all from his own lips." Still glaring at the man he had blindly trusted, Niko drew a sharp breath and cut loose with a piercing whistle. Moments later the hallway was full of men, most of them miners, rushing to their leader's aid.

In swift, succinct Pterovnian, Niko gave the newcomers the gist of what had transpired, then barked out an order. And for the benefit of James West he repeated it in English. "Ichko has betrayed us. Seize him and his impostor as well and lock them up in the cell, but release Mr West!"

The miners moved forward, some encircling Ichko and his minions, others coming to stand with Niko. "You are finished, Ichko, you and your plot," Niko added. "I have told you many times, you are not to kill King Stepanko!"

"No?" said the Brit. "You have accused me of having a faulty memory, but perhaps you too are forgetting something."

Niko snorted. "And what is that?"

"That I have been the one doing most of the recruiting lately!" The Brit called out something snappy in Pterovnian, and instantly the men turned on Niko, knocking his gun away and setting out to beat him black and blue.

End of Act Three

Author's Note: Ichko's narrative of the events in Ruritania is a very brief retelling of Anthony Hope's classic adventure novel The Prisoner of Zenda — well worth a read!

Meanwhile, the evil Baron Rodrich Von Stuppe of Carpania is based on (and in my version, the father of) Baron Rolfe Von Stuppe, Ross Martin's excellent villainous role in the hilarious movie The Great Race — well worth a watch!