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When he reached them, he fell into Nicholas’s arms.

‘Slow down, George,’ said the latter, supporting him. ‘What means this haste?’

‘I have just been to the Black Eagle,’ he gasped.

‘That was your commission.’

‘I went up to Mistress Hendrik’s chamber.’

‘And?’

‘She was not there.’

‘Haply, she has stepped out for some reason.’

‘She would never leave the costumes in that state.’

‘What state?’

‘You told me they were being repaired,’ said Dart, trembling under the weight of the news that he bore. ‘Yet those costumes have been torn to shreds and scattered over the floor. And that is not all,’ he added, as he gulped in more air. ‘The whole room is in disarray. There has been a violent struggle.’

***

The Black Eagle was in turmoil. Nicholas sprinted all the way there and burst in through the door to find the rest of the company engaged in a frantic search of the premises.

‘Has George Dart told you?’ asked Firethorn, rushing across to him. ‘Anne has disappeared. We have looked everywhere for her, Nick, but she is not here.’

‘Let me see the chamber,’ said Nicholas.

‘Prepare yourself for a shock.’

Firethorn followed him up the stairs and into the little room where Anne Hendrik had slept alone. Nicholas looked around in consternation. The stool and table had been overturned, the jug of water smashed, a tapestry torn from the wall and Anne’s belongings scattered everywhere. The costumes on which she had been working were in tatters on the floor, but it was another garment which made him shudder. Lying on the bed, slit open from top to bottom, was Anne’s white night-dress. Nicholas snatched it up involuntarily and clutched it to him.

It was Firethorn who first saw the letter. It had been hidden beneath the night-dress. He picked it up and read the name scrawled across it in a spidery hand.

‘It is addressed to you, Nick,’ he said.

‘Let me see it.’

‘Do you wish to read it alone?’

‘No. This concerns us both.’

Putting the night-dress aside, Nicholas took the letter and opened it. The message was short and unequivocal.

Bring the documents to the Town Square this evening. Stand beneath the clock when it strikes seven. Come alone or she will sleep tonight with Adrian Smallwood.

Nicholas blenched as he took in the full import of the demand. Anne had been abducted. Because of the pouch that he carried in his jerkin, her life was now in immediate danger. His mind was an inferno of guilt and apprehension. He blamed himself for what had happened to her. The man who had murdered Adrian Smallwood had not given up the hunt. He had simply been biding his time until he could strike at the most vulnerable point. Nicholas had no doubt that he would carry out the threat in his letter. His temples pounded.

‘What does it say, Nick?’ asked Firethorn.

‘See for yourself.’

Nicholas held it out so that his friend could read its blunt demand. Firethorn was so enraged that he immediately snatched out his dagger.

‘Meet with him there and I will follow you.’

‘No,’ said Nicholas.

‘I’ll cut out his black heart!’

‘That is not the way. I am to go alone.’

‘You will only put yourself in danger, Nick.’

‘If it will save Anne, I will happily do that.’

‘It is unjust,’ said Firethorn. ‘I was asked to carry those documents and not you. It was wrong of me to shirk my duty thus. Let me make amends now. I will meet him at the appointed place instead of you. He will get much more than the documents, I warrant you.’

‘We must comply with his orders or Anne will die.’

‘You must let me do something.’

‘Keep the contents of this letter to yourself,’ said Nicholas as he thrust it inside his jerkin. ‘Our fellows need know nothing of this. It is private business of mine.’

‘And mine, Nick!’

‘Only I may go.’

‘But you are dealing with a ruthless killer here,’ argued Firethorn. ‘We both saw what he did to Adrian Smallwood. He may be planning to murder you in the same way. What trust can you place in his word? Anne may already be dead.’

‘She is more use to him alive.’

‘You may be his next victim.’

‘That is a chance I am ready to take.’

‘Why?’ said Firethorn, searching for a way to protect him. ‘We are guests of the Emperor. Let us take this to him. He will send a whole army to comb the streets of Prague until they find Anne.’

‘Then would she certainly be killed.’

‘Use all the strength at our disposal.’

‘No,’ asserted Nicholas. ‘He has set the terms. I must abide by them. Let us call off the search and calm our fellows down. We are being watched.’

Firethorn eventually accepted his advice. While the actor-manager went off to round up the company, Nicholas looked down again at the night-dress. It was a message in itself. The dagger which had rent it apart would be used on Anne Hendrik without compunction. That could not be allowed to happen.

When he went back downstairs, Nicholas saw that George Dart was seated at a table weeping piteously, and being comforted by Hugo Usselincx. The book-holder’s first task was to confine the problem to the company. Though trying to help, the Dutchman was an intruder. Nicholas bore down on them.

‘Calm down, George,’ he soothed. ‘There might yet be a simple explanation for all this.’

‘Might there?’ sobbed the other.

‘I think that you were misled.’

‘Was I? How?’

‘What has happened?’ asked Usselincx solicitously.

‘Nothing that we cannot deal with ourselves,’ said Nicholas, guiding him to the door. ‘I am sorry that you were caught up in this wild excitement. It was a misunderstanding on George’s part.’

‘Why all this commotion?’

‘Unnecessary panic.’ They were back in the street now. ‘Actors thrive on drama. On- and offstage. It is all over now.’

‘Are you certain?’

‘Yes, Hugo. We do not need to keep you.’

‘But I want to offer what help I can.’

‘None is required.’

There was a pause. ‘I see that I am in the way,’ said Usselincx, moving away. ‘Forgive me. It was wrong of me to trespass on your privacy. Adieu!’

He turned on his heel and scuttled apologetically away.

Nicholas went back into the inn. Firethorn had gathered the whole company into a room at the rear where they could be alone. A tearful Dart joined them to hear Nicholas. The book-holder spoke with far more confidence than he felt.

‘There is no cause for alarm,’ he said firmly. ‘Mistress Hendrik is indisposed. We have the matter well in hand. She will be back with us very soon. Meanwhile, you may rest easy. This confusion was unfortunate and took you away from a more proper purpose. We performed at the Imperial Court today with resounding success. You should be celebrating that triumph. Go to it now and forget this unwarranted agitation.’

It took time to persuade the actors, but they eventually began to trickle back into the taproom to compare their theories over a mug of beer. George Dart hovered, wanting to believe Nicholas but prevented from doing so by his memory of the ravaged bedchamber. When he began to gibber his dissent, he was lifted bodily by Firethorn and carried off to join the others. Only Owen Elias and James Ingram stayed behind. Neither of them was convinced by the book-holder’s attempt at reassurance.

‘Where is she, Nick?’ asked the Welshman.

‘You have heard what I had to say, Owen.’

‘We are more interested in what lay behind your words.’

‘Yes,’ added Ingram. ‘You must have your reasons and we respect them. But do not forget us. You may not need us now, but our swords are always there at your command.’