Duke Harald caught his breath after a moment. Unfastening the lockbox, he tossed it lightly in the back. The driver spoke then, quietly, not taking his eyes from the road.
“Count Godfrey thought it better not to come himself, your grace. In case of any sudden inquiry, he felt he should be personally available.”
“Of course!” Duke Harald nodded in agreement. “And your instructions were—?”
“To meet your grace, and bring you to the embassy by the fastest and yet most roundabout route.”
“And this cab?”
“Rented, your grace—after a fashion.” The driver smiled briefly. “Count Godfrey arranged it. The owner will wake up after a while—a little richer and a lot more puzzled.”
“Your name’s Borrow, is it not?” Duke Harald asked, studying the other’s dimly seen profile. “One of Godfrey’s secretaries?”
“Yes, your grace.”
Borrow! Of course, thought Duke Harald; this would be the son of the old clan leader—and the father of the child—whose capture by the aliens had been so recently and vividly recalled to him. Well! By this night’s work, that family tragedy was nearer to being avenged.
The walls of the embassy were a warmly lighted sanctuary. Duke Harald shivered slightly as he removed his damp and heavy battle cloak.