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No one moved. They all appeared black apparitions frozen in a moment of time.
“If y
ou don’t immediately obey me, I will shoot the Ram.” Very calmly Rafael raised the pistol, aiming it in the center of the Ram’s forehead. “It would be excellent riddance and certainly clear the air of its foul stench.”
“Take them off,” the Ram said.
They did.
“Throw them into the fire.”
As the black velvet hoods landed in the fireplace, they smothered the flames for a moment, sending black smoke gushing upward, then burst into bright orange.
“We all know each other. No reason for the nonsense of hoods. Hello, Charlie, Paul, Linc.” Rafael saw that they had difficulty meeting his eyes. Not that he blamed them. It was worse than being caught with your breeches down. He continued around the group, calling out each name in a jovial voice, watching their embarrassed reactions. Then he frowned, pausing. David Esterbridge wasn’t here. His frown deepened as he remembered that young Joan Newdowns had claimed to have heard David’s voice. If that were true, where was he? He said aloud to Vincent Landowner, “Vinnie, don’t you wish to know the identity of the Ram?”
Vincent raised rather bulging blue eyes to Rafael’s face. “It’s not allowed,” he said simply.
“I asked you if you would like to know.”
“Yes,” Vincent said. “All of us would, I guess.”
“No. It’s not allowed. I’m the leader here, you young bastard. You will stop this, immediately.”
Rafael looked around the circle of lowered heads. “Why?” he said. “Why do you allow him to make you do these things? Charlie, you have a sister, Claire. She’s fifteen. Should you like to see her drugged, tied down, and raped?”
“Damn you, Rafael, Claire’s a child.”
“And the girl lying there, Charlie?”
“She counts for nothing,” Paul Keason said, his voice sounding a sullen litany.
“Ah, is that so? It appears to me that you’re willing to swallow any swill that the Ram feeds you. Did the young lady—the daughter of the viscount—did she also count for nothing?”
“We didn’t know at the time,” Johnny cried. “We didn’t know until later.”
“Ah, she didn’t tell you who she was?”
“Yes,” said Paul Keason, “but of course we didn’t believe her.”
Lincoln said, “That was a mistake. The wretched girl was dressed like a peasant and had no groom with her.”
“Every evil has its excuse ready,” said Rafael. “Charlie, doesn’t your little sister Claire occasionally take walks without her groom?”
Charles St. Clement swallowed painfully, but said nothing.
“Perhaps little Claire even takes walks wearing an old gown? To go berrying, perhaps?”
“Stop it, Rafael.”
“All right, I believe you do see the point. Now, all of you listen. I will tell you the truth. I was asked by the ministry to put a stop to this foolishness. Yes, gentlemen, you gained the attention of high-placed men when you ravished the viscount’s daughter. So you see, it will stop. Now. If all of you swear to return to something resembling a path of righteousness, you won’t be punished. This gentleman, however, this Ram, well, he will be taken care of in another way.”
“There are seven of you and but one of him. Kill him.”
“Flash.”
“’Ere, Cap’n. None of ye fancy coves move, now.”
No one budged.
