Zigzagging through the raw materials, Wheeler headed for the half-finished structure spanning the river. He scrambled over the barrier of timbers and chains blocking man and beast from the danger ahead and headed out into the spiderweb of rope handholds strung up as a safety net for the workers.
Wrexford peeled off his coat and flung it aside before jumping on one of the rough-cut logs and hauling himself up and over the obstacle.
Another few steps gained on his quarry.
Wheeler stumbled as the footing turned more treacherous. The paving of the old bridge had been torn away in order to widen it, and temporary planking had been placed for the work being done. Grabbing up a loose rock, he turned and heaved it at Wrexford.
The earl ducked it with ease. “My raggle-taggle urchins can throw better than you do,” he called. “Or has fear tied your muscles in knots?”
Wheeler turned and grabbed a handhold on the main guide rope, then picked his way with sure-footed grace to the outer beam. A flash of steel cut through the darkness, followed by a low laugh as the engineer tossed the severed length of rope into the rushing water below.
“You see, you’re not quite as clever as you think, milord!” he called. “And by the by, my muscles are functioning perfectly.”
Wrexford quickly surveyed the surroundings to gauge his options. A glance up showed that a single thick manila line had been strung from the iron support stanchion next to him to one up ahead where the current work was being done. A pulley rigged with a heavy metal hook for moving buckets back and forth was tethered to a ring just above his head. Wrexford yanked it free and grabbed hold of the hook.
Whoosh!
The wind whistled through his hair as he flew along the length of rope. Wheeler made a grab for him, but Wrexford kicked the engineer’s hands away and continued on another twenty feet before dropping down to the widely spaced planks with perfect timing to keep his balance.
“The only way to cross to the other side is to crawl along that one old outer beam left from the original bridge.” The earl pointed to a horizontal length of rusty metal to his left that trailed off into the darkness. “And I’m not about to let you try it.”
Wheeler shifted his stance and didn’t answer right away.
No doubt the gears are turning inside his head, thought Wrexford. His adversary looked to have regained his sangfroid.It would be a mistake, he reminded himself,to underestimate the man.
“Tell me, how is it that you have appeared here when you were locked away in an impregnable cell?” called Wheeler. “I refuse to believe that Fenway would betray me. But the only other explanation is that you’re some otherworldly wraith, capable of walking through walls of stone.”
“Perhaps I’m an avenging angel,” answered Wrexford, feeling no compunction to reveal his secret. “You’ve committed a great evil, and so you must pay for your sins.”
“Do you actually believe that Good always triumphs over Evil?” shot back Wheeler. “Surely you are not that naïve.”
“It is an elemental battle—the light and dark sides of human nature are constantly at war,” the earl replied. “I’ve won enough battles to remain optimistic. So I like my chances.” A pause. “Do you?”
The question seemed to take Wheeler aback. He hesitated just an instant before dismissing it with a curt laugh. But the telltale pause revealed a hint of doubt.
And in the heat of a clash, Wrexford believed that the engineer’s doubt would work against him.
“The fact is, Idolike my chances.” Wheeler brandished his knife. “For I know that you are not armed, while I am. And you’re well aware that I’m not afraid to use my blade to take a life, if need be.”
“You may try.” Wrexford revealed Raven’s knife and snapped it open. “Since I believe in fighting fair, be advised that Iamarmed. And I, too, can be lethal with a blade if I so choose.”
“Anyone who fights fair is a bloody fool,” called Wheeler as he shuffled to his left—and suddenly hurled an open can of turpentine at the earl’s head.
Wrexford ducked, but the liquid hit him full in the face. Blinded, he staggered back, his eyes feeling on fire. He heard the creak of the planking. Wheeler was moving . . .
Think!Recalling his surroundings, Wrexford retreated, angling his steps to the right, where one of the stone support pillars rose up from the river. He took cover behind it, blotting his eyes with his shirtsleeve and then blinking furiously to clear his vision.
If the engineer was pragmatic, he would seize the opportunity to escape rather than allow hubris to color his judgment and demand a mano a mano victory.
The light brush of boot leather on wood was suddenly audible as the breeze died for a moment.
A wise move.By the sound of it, Wheeler was creeping toward the opposite side of the bridge where the existing beam offered a path to freedom.
Though his eyes were still blurry, the earl eased away from the pillar, and after another few rapid-fire blinks he spotted the engineer creeping stealthily through the maze of ropes and netting.
“Give it up,” called Wrexford. “I’m not going to let you escape.”
Wheeler carefully worked his way up a barricade of thin netting, and though it sagged and threatened to snap, which would have resulted in a fatal fall onto the rocks jutting up from the water, he dropped down to safety.
