The King's Man

by Christopher G. Nuttall

  “I look forward to it,” I said. “I’m sure it’ll make all the papers.”

  “You’ll have to read about it in the papers,” Alana snarled. It had to be wearing on her. “You won’t be getting an invitation.”

  “And thank the Ancients for that,” I said, truthfully. I’d never attended anyone’s season, but I’d heard the stories. If I wanted to spend a few days dancing attendance on a girl who’d been declared queen for a day, I’d have accepted one of the offers of patronage that came my way. “I’m sure the stories will be long on boring details about what you wore and short on anything interesting.”

  Alana scowled, just as Saline rang a bell. “Prince Jacob is approaching,” she said, her voice hanging in the air. “Please join me in welcoming him.”

  “Hah,” Alana muttered.

  She pulled her hand free, then turned and headed further into the building. I snickered, hastily covering my mouth as a handful of aristos turned and looked. Alana’s little rebellion clearly had limits. She wasn’t going to join the others in welcoming the prince, not when her father would go mental. Alana had two sisters. Cat was - in one sense - a cripple, but there was nothing wrong with Bella. There was no reason she couldn’t be declared Heir Primus instead.

  I pasted a bland expression on my face as Caroline and I joined the throng heading out of the building. Someone had cast a whole series of powerful lightspells, illuminating the lawn with an eerie white radiance. My eyes hurt, forcing me to cover them as a fancy carriage passed through the gate. It was covered in gold, real gold. It was so gaudy that the Great Houses would sneer at the carriage if they saw it. And yet ... I frowned, inwardly, as I saw another carriage following the prince. Prince Jacob didn’t have wealth and power. His only hope of gaining support came from pretending he had a hope in hell of regaining his throne.

  Except he never really had it in the first place, I thought. Someone would have loaned him the golden coach. I wondered who. It was his grandfather who got booted off the throne.

  The lights flickered and failed. I looked up, just as a surge of magic - tainted magic - brushed against my senses. People screamed as an eerie, shimmering light overwhelmed the gatehouse. For an instant, reality itself seemed to hang on a knife-edge. I thought I felt blood trickle from my eyes and down my cheeks. That light was like looking into the gates of hell themselves.

  A thunderous roar struck my ears. The gatehouse disintegrated, pieces of debris flying in all directions. Prince Jacob’s coach was picked up by the blast and hurled towards us, rolling over and over until it plunged into the pond. Swans fled, hooting and howling, as a sheet of warm air washed over us. I could taste the tainted magic. Everyone was in terrible danger.

  “Get inside,” I shouted. No one heard me, not over the sounds of growing panic. I muttered a spell to boost my voice. “EVERYONE GET INSIDE, NOW!”

  I glanced at Caroline, then hurried towards the remnants of the coach. Prince Jacob might still be alive. It crossed my mind, just for a second, that Sir Griffons might be happier if I left the prince to die, but ... I couldn’t live with myself if I did. I jumped into the water, which churned unpleasantly, and tugged at the door. It came free, allowing Prince Jacob to crawl out. He looked shaken, but otherwise unhurt.

  “They tried to kill me,” he said, as I pushed him out of the water. “They tried to kill me.”

  “They tried to kill everyone,” I said. The wards had absorbed most of the blast - fortunately, otherwise hundreds of young aristos would have been killed - but the tainted magic was still going to be a problem. Everyone would need to be checked before they were allowed to go home. “Stay close to me.”

  I hurried back towards the mansion. A pair of senior armsmen were arguing with Caroline. I opened my mouth to say something, but she punched the leader out before I could say a word. The remainder nodded hastily, then hurried to carry out her orders. I had the feeling they’d be making hundreds of complaints before the day was through, but it didn’t matter. Right now, we had to decontaminate the scene before more people were exposed. The attack could have killed hundreds of people ...

  Could have, but didn’t. I frowned, feeling something nag at the back of my mind. The attack - both attacks - could have been a great deal nastier. If the attackers had thought to shield their devices ... they hadn’t even learnt from their first attack. They could have killed a great deal more people with a little forethought.

  I put the thought out of my mind as I helped organise the relief and recovery efforts. The aristos were too stunned to argue, even when we separated the men from the women, then told them to strip down and wash thoroughly before donning clean clothes. I’d never heard so much complaining in my life, not even after the yearly exams came finally - mercifully - to an end. Sir Griffons arrived with a small army of armsmen and sorcerers, ready to decontaminate the remains of the gatehouse and sift through the rubble for clues. I doubted they’d find anything. The entire complex had been bathed in tainted magic.

  “They tried to kill him.” Saline was sitting by the door as I headed out, looking stunned. “They tried to kill the prince!”

  “Perhaps,” I said. I wasn’t so sure. There were easier and safer ways to assassinate the prince. Hell, if it had happened in the prince’s lodgings, there were people in Magus Court who would probably have breathed a sigh of relief. Whatever they said in public, they’d be glad he was dead. “How many people knew he was coming here?”

  “Everyone.” Saline gave me a wide-eyed look. “The party was in his honour. It was on the invites and ... I invited hundreds of people.”

  I nodded, then winced as Lord Dirac strode into view. There was no way to tell if Prince Jacob had been the target or not - I was pretty sure he would have been killed if the device had been triggered a little earlier - but it didn’t matter. The Great Houses were already jumpy. Now ... their children had been attacked. I didn’t think there were any aristos amongst the dead, but ... they wouldn’t care. They’d be looking for a way to hit back.

  And Louise is still their target, I thought, as I rejoined Sir Griffons. This is not going to end well.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  “Lord Dirac wishes to speak with us,” Sir Griffons said, the following morning. “Go shower, then change into your tunics. I want you to be alert.”

  I groaned. It felt as if we’d barely gotten any sleep. I wasn’t even sure when we’d gotten home, showered in the decontamination chamber and stumbled into bed without bothering to get dressed. My skin prickled uncomfortably, a grim reminder that I’d been brushed by tainted magic. The healers said there should be no long-term effects, but I wasn’t so sure. There were too many horror stories about people who lived near the Desolation for me to be sanguine about anything.

  “Yes, sir,” Caroline said. I didn’t know how she managed to sound so alert. “Are we going to see him?”

  “He’s coming to see us,” Sir Griffons said. “That bodes ill, I fear.”

  I nodded. I’d taken the time to skim through the morning papers while eating breakfast and pouring gallons of coffee down my throat. The broadsheets had been utterly hysterical, claiming that hundreds of people had been killed or seriously injured, while the more sober papers - for once - hadn’t poured water on the fire. Their editors seemed united in their demand for Magus Court to do something - anything - about the terrorists. A handful were even brave enough to suggest Magus Court didn’t know who was behind the socialist threat.

  We stumbled upstairs, undressed and plunged into the shower. Cold water cascaded down, shocking me awake. I washed thoroughly, trying to ignore the patches of greying skin on my chest. The tainted magic had left its mark. I ran cold water over the skin, trying to wash it away. It felt weird, like it was no longer part of me. I glanced at Caroline. Her skin appeared to be clear. I hoped that was a good sign.

  “Maybe Prince Jacob was the target,” Caroline said, as we dried and dressed. “He’s certainly got enemies here.”

  “Not t
o hear the broadsheets tell it,” I said. The majority of the newspapers had glossed over Prince Jacob’s involvement. The prince had been rushed off by the healers and I hadn’t seen him since. “Everything is the fault of the socialists.”

  I scowled as I buckled my belt, then checked my pouch and tools. I knew Louise was innocent, but ... it was quite possible there was a splinter faction that thought it could get what it wanted through violence. Or a faction from Magus Court. Or one of the Great Houses. Or ... could it be Prince Jacob, trying to drum up sympathy for his cause? I rather doubted it. The Great Houses were caught in a trap. They had to put up with him. But that would change if he started unleashing tainted magic within the city. They’d throw him out on his ear.

  If they didn’t kill him out of hand. It sounded insane, although I’d heard worse plans that someone had been stupid enough to try. He’d be putting his entire cause at risk.

  I heard a carriage outside as we slipped downstairs and into the living room. Sir Griffons looked us up and down, then nodded curtly. “Caroline, show them in,” he ordered. “Adam, pour us all tea.”

  “Yes, sir,” I said. I disliked serving guests, even though it was one of the duties of an apprentice, but it would just have to be endured. “The good tea?”

  “Yes.” Sir Griffons smiled. “And the good biscuits too.”

  I heated the kettle, then poured water into the teapot and carried it and the biscuits back into the living room. Lord Dirac looked as if he hadn’t had much sleep either, his pale face lined with tiredness. I guessed Magus Court must have summoned him in the wee small hours, on the assumption he had nothing better to do than answer their questions. I felt a stab of sympathy, despite everything. Sir Griffons had grumbled enough about superiors who thought that harassing their subordinates was the best way to look like they were doing something ... he might be a pain in the neck, but Lord Dirac didn’t deserve to be harassed with pointless questions. It would keep him from doing his job.

  Lord Dirac nodded, politely, as I poured him and his fellows a cup of tea. One of them looked so much like him that I honestly wondered if they were father and son, although the age gap didn’t look to be that large. Father had been twenty when he’d had me and there was no way I could pass for him, not now. Maybe they were cousins. Or brothers. Nepotism was the way of the world in Magus Court. Lord Dirac would run into more trouble if he refused to promote his family above all others. The other man was older, his face nearly completely bland.

  “We are displeased by your interference,” Lord Dirac said. He sipped his tea in the proper aristocratic manner. “You should not have been at Greenbank Mansion.”

  Sir Griffons raised his eyebrows. “You would have preferred I left the armsmen to handle the crisis on their own?”

  “Your apprentices” - Lord Dirac glanced at Caroline and myself - “certainly should not have been there. The party was a political headache even before the atrocity.”

  “My apprentices were invited,” Sir Griffons said. “Or would you have suggested they refused the invites?”

  “Many did,” Lord Dirac said. “The important people found pressing business elsewhere.”

  No, they didn’t, I thought, remembering Alana. She might have legged it when Prince Jacob had arrived, but she’d been there. Hundreds of people had seen her there. Don’t you know she was there?

  I kept that thought to myself as Lord Dirac leaned forward. “There is a state of emergency,” he said. “Magus Court will not tolerate interference in its affairs.”

  “I was unaware that saving lives was illegal,” Sir Griffons said, with an affected casualness that was nothing of the sort. I knew him well enough to tell he was annoyed. “And my apprentices were invited to the party. It would have been incredibly rude to tell the organisers that they couldn’t make it.”

  Lord Dirac ignored him. “By the terms of the Shallot-Tintagel Treaty,” he said, “I must formally request that the Kingsmen withdraw from the city at once.”

  “I see.” Sir Griffons said nothing for a long chilling moment. “And you feel that chasing us out of the city will help you find the terrorists?”

  “Magus Court believes so,” Lord Dirac said. “We intend to protect ourselves.”

  “I see,” Sir Griffons said, again. “Might I remind you that the last time we were withdrawn from the city, you wound up with a full-fledged House War?”

  “Magus Court has made up its mind.” Lord Dirac’s face was so expressionless that I couldn’t tell if he believed what he was saying. “You Kingsmen have twenty-four hours to leave the city or, in line with the treaty, we will evict you.”

  “I formally protest,” Sir Griffons said.

  Lord Dirac stood. “Magus Court has made its decision,” he said, as he beckoned for his assistant to follow him. “I trust you will comply.”

  “If that is your wish.” Sir Griffons glanced at Caroline. “Escort them out, if you please.”

  He leaned back in his chair as Caroline led Lord Dirac and his assistant to the exit. I stared, utterly unsure of what had just happened. Throwing us out of the city wouldn’t help in the slightest, would it? I couldn’t believe it. We weren’t the ones blowing up the city. Magus Court had to have lost its collective mind. They should be hunting down the terrorists. They should be letting us help hunt down the terrorists. They shouldn’t be wasting time hurling us out.

  “Sir,” I said. “Are they ...?”

  “Wait.” Sir Griffons held up a hand. “When Caroline comes back, we’ll talk.”

  I forced myself to calm down and drink my tea as Caroline returned, her face pale. “Sir,” she said. “Are they mad?”

  “I wanted to ask that,” I said. “Are they mad?”

  “You tell me.” Sir Griffons looked at me, sardonically. “Why might they give us the boot, now?”

  I thought about it. Lord Dirac didn’t know we’d interrogated Louise. He didn’t even know who Louise was. I was pretty sure he would have made a terrible fuss if he’d known. And yet ... why would they order us to stay out of the investigation, then order us to get out of the city itself. It made no sense. They were hunting dangerous terrorists who’d shown a frightening lack of concern about civilian casualties. This wasn’t the time for petty power games. They wanted - they needed - all hands on deck. It didn’t matter who caught the bastards as long as someone did.

  “I don’t know,” I admitted, finally. “Are they that unhappy we attended the party?”

  Caroline had another idea. “They’re going to do something bad and they don’t want outside witnesses.”

  I blanched. “You mean ...”

  “They’ve already declared a state of emergency and suspended everyone’s rights,” Caroline said. “What’s to stop them - now - from searching Water Shallot from top to bottom? From casting truth spells on everyone who falls into their clutches? From using dark magic to track down the terrorists and kill them ...”

  “And, in the process, shattering the socialist movement beyond repair,” I finished. I could see it now. Louise and her comrades would be arrested, interrogated and shipped off to Skullbreaker Island without a trial. They might be innocent, but so what? No one came back from Skullbreaker Island. “They’re using the atrocities as an excuse for a purge.”

  I looked down at my hands. “Sir ... we have to stop them.”

  “We need to uncover who’s really responsible for the atrocities,” Sir Griffons agreed. “Shallot has always rested on a knife-edge. The various tribes moved in uneasy harmony. If that gets broken, now, the results are unlikely to be pleasant. If we can catch the people responsible, we can convince Magus Court to back down before it provokes a full-blown revolution.”

  I nodded. For all of its flaws, the system enjoyed the support of the population. They wouldn’t react well if they were stripped of their rights, their ancient liberties and - most importantly of all - their voice in the city’s affairs. If faith in the system collapsed, there would be blood. I wondered if the Great H
ouses knew they were playing with fire. They were the most powerful magicians in the world, but they weren’t the only ones. Louise and I were hardly the only sorcerers to come out of Water Shallot.

  “Which means we need to track down the source of the devices,” I said. “And quickly.”

  Caroline had a different question. “How are we meant to do that when we’ve just been ordered to leave the city?”

  Sir Griffons let out a long breath. “I can leave,” he said. “I have to leave. But you two can stay.”

  “On a technicality,” I said.

  “Yes.” Sir Griffons met my eyes. “I won’t lie to you, either of you. The technicality won’t impress Lord Dirac, if you’re caught. You might wind up arrested - or worse. If you want to leave the city instead ... I’ll understand. I won’t hold it against you.”

  I didn’t need to think about it. Shallot was my city. I wasn’t going to leave while a bunch of bloodthirsty monsters tore it apart. There were innocent people at risk, people who might be killed or brutalised as Lord Dirac searched for the socialists. My family lived in the city. So did almost everyone I knew. Someone had to stay and fight for them. I wasn’t going to run.

  “I’m staying, sir,” I said. “Caroline?”

  “I dread to imagine what you’ll do if left unsupervised,” Caroline said, with a hint of a smile. “I’ll stay with you.”

  “Then you’d better move now,” Sir Griffons said. “Lord Dirac will be here in twenty-four hours, just to make sure we’ve gone. Take some money, take some tools, and stay in touch. I’ll try to convince His Majesty to authorise an intervention force. The Great Houses may change their minds if all hell breaks loose.”

  I swallowed. “Yes, sir.”

  “Keep your rings,” Sir Griffons said. “But make sure you tighten the charms on them. You do not want to be caught.”

  My stomach shifted uneasily as we hurried up the stairs to pack. I’d never considered becoming a fugitive. I’d always been too proud to steal. Father would have probably killed me if I’d considered a life of crime. But now ... if we were caught, we would be in trouble. Lord Dirac would be entirely within his rights to keep us prisoner until the state of emergency was lifted - or worse. We could find ourselves on the way to Skullbreaker Island. His Majesty wouldn’t make a fuss. Our presence within the city wasn’t legal. It would suit everyone - including our superiors - to turn a blind eye.