As I tapped my way behind the tavern to enjoy the sight of stars shining on the sea, a man banged into me and sent me straight into the wall.
Chapter9
Iimmediately threw my weight backward in an attempt to dislodge my attacker. He clung to me with strength, and I felt a punch in my ribs. I grunted, scrabbling to retain my balance.
Another smack, this one into the small of my back. A man who knew how to strike and do it well.
I swung around, attempting to grab him, but in this darkness, I could see nothing. While Rome at least had lights spilling from its densely packed houses, here there was no illumination at all, not even a moon in the night sky.
I struck out and was rewarded with a grunt. We wrestled with vehemence, I trying to grab hold of him, he trying to pummel me into submission.
My assailant seemed to be about a foot shorter than I was, and not as large, but he was strong and wiry. If I’d been less trained, I’d have quickly been beaten down.
I heard running footsteps and then the man was hauled from me and lifted to dangle between Brewster’s large hands. A knife was clenched in the man’s fist, and I was relieved he hadn’t had a chance to use it.
“Who the devil are you?” I demanded, my breath ragged.
No answer—it was reasonable to assume he did not speak English. I repeated the question in broken Italian, but the man only struggled valiantly with Brewster, who was having trouble keeping hold of him.
“Who sent you? Why are you after me?” Again both English and Italian received no response.
“Lacey?” Grenville’s voice rang out, and he rounded the corner behind Brewster.
The man gave a desperate wrench and managed to break free of Brewster’s grip. He tried to dash away but was stopped by Grenville, who bravely stepped in front of him.
A keening sound came from the man’s throat, and then words, English ones I thought, but slurred and oddly formed. He ducked to the left, evading Grenville, then sprinted into the darkness. Brewster was after him like a shot but returned to us not long later in defeat.
“Sorry, guv.” Brewster let out a heavy breath. “He vanished. Can’t see him, can’t hear him. He must know this place well.”
“He was trying to speak English, I’m certain,” I said. “Who on earth is he?”
“Who knows, guv? A gent what’s gone mad living among all these dead places?”
“Not mad,” Grenville said, strangely subdued. “Our fellow is deaf.”
“Deaf?” I stared at him.
“How’d ye know that?” Brewster demanded. “Begging your pardon, Mr. Grenville.”
“I will tell you.” Grenville gestured with his gloved hand, his suit as pristine as it would be at a Mayfair gathering. “But I think we should head indoors. It is time we retired, and who knows if our swift fighter will return?”
We agreed that this was best, and the three of us reentered the inn, I deeply curious about what Grenville had to say. The other travelers tried to engage us again, but Grenville made our apologies, citing our early start, and we took stairs to the rooms he’d let for us above. Baldini, deep in a glass of wine with other Neapolitan gentlemen, waved us cheerily off.
We entered Grenville’s large chamber, which had a settee, chairs, and a table for his breakfast in addition to a well-appointed bed. Even at a wayside inn, Grenville managed to procure the best accommodations.
Wine had been left for us and Grenville served it without ceremony, though Brewster declined.
“Happy for a good pint when I reach home,” he said.
Grenville settled himself after he handed me a cup of wine, and I sank into one of the chairs, grateful for a modicum of comfort after our day of walking and riding, not to mention fighting in the darkness.
“I have told you, I believe, that my father sired several by-blows,” Grenville began with a pained expression. “A few were brought to my nursery, and it was made out that they were my cousins, but of course we all knew the truth. Those were the siblings I knew about—who knows how many more my father had? He was a bit of a gadabout.”
His flush told me that embarrassment about one’s pater was not unique to me.
“One of the lads who came to live with us was deaf,” Grenville continued. “He hadn’t been born so but lost his hearing through a fever when he was very small. He had learned to speak, yet his words were never perfectly formed, very much like those of the chap who accosted us tonight.”
I thought back on the encounter. “Was this half-brother of yours as wily a fighter?”
