Kingdom of Ash and Soot

by C. S. Johnson

  “Forty-five years is a long time to hate someone.”

  “This likely has more to do with love than hate.”

  The familiar turn of phrase took me back into the world of The Tragedy of Romeo and Juliet. I thought of all my trips into the library. “You have read Shakespeare?”

  Amir smiled. “I have lived in London for many years, under the service of Lady Penelope and the League of Ungentlemanly Warfare. Yes, mademoiselle, I know my Shakespeare.”

  “The League of Ungentlemanly Warfare.” I frowned at the foreign name. “So you are not actually part of the Order of the Crystal Daggers?”

  “No, I am not. But I remain Lady Penelope’s fiercest ally.” He put his hand on the curved dagger at his side. “This is a Wahabite Jambiya, a special dagger that comes from my homeland. It is our choice of weapon, when it is needed.”

  “Such as when we first met?” I asked, cracking my knuckles. I decided to circle the conversation around to the League again later.

  “Yes, mademoiselle.” Amir took the dagger out of the wooden sheath and held it out to me, hilt first. Curiosity compelled me to take it.

  “When Lady Penelope succeeds in making Harshad teach you, weapons such as this will be among the first ones you master. A sword is commonplace, and while a rapier might serve you best, they are often cumbersome for the spy and subtle attacker.”

  “It’s beautiful.” Studying it, I saw the inscription down the side, in foreign letters and unusual markings. Some of them were similar to the writing in my mother’s journal.

  “Arabic,” he explained. “This is the language I was speaking with your beloved, when we first met.”

  “My beloved?”

  “The boy who interrupted our battle, back in the alley.”

  At the mention of Ferdy, I forced myself not to blush. “He’s not my beloved.”

  “He seemed to think he was,” Amir said, making me frown.

  What did Ferdy say to Amir?

  As much as I wondered, I decided to worry about that another day. I turned back to the dagger. “What does it say?”

  “A blessing for the wielder’s protection from Allah.”

  “Allah?”

  “The Arabic word for God, although there are significant differences between the religious views on God himself. Many in the Ottoman Empire follow Mohammadism.”

  “Oh,” I said. “Bohemia is mostly Catholic, although there is more Protestantism here in recent decades. And there is the Jewish population, too, across the Vltava.”

  Amir nodded. “I’ve become very familiar with the Anglican Church, serving Lady Penelope. And you are right. In the Western world, there are not many Muslims.”

  “Are you a Muslim?” I asked, before realizing I was being more than a little too upfront.

  “Not anymore.” He shook his head. “I once was lost, but now I am found.”

  Another familiar phrase. “John Newton.”

  Amir nodded. “I grew up with an affinity for music, despite my father’s distain for it. Never has my soul been so gratified than by Handel’s Messiah. But that story is for another day, as I have this one to tell first.”

  “Sorry,” I murmured. “I did not mean to interrupt.”

  “It is no trouble. But this story is more enjoyable than that one, I can assure you, and it is less complicated. The differences between Eastern and Western minds are extraordinary.”

  “So tell me then.” I wanted to hear about my mother.

  “When I was much younger, even younger than you, I was working near Constantinople as a medical student, under my father,” Amir said. “My Abba, my father, met Harshad as he cared for some of Harshad’s ... sources, most of whom were not so willing to tell their secrets.”

  “You mean after Harshad beat them, he sent for your father.” I smiled at the thought as he nodded. “And you followed your father in medicine.”

  “I followed my father in every aspect of my life, until I met Naděžda.”

  I said nothing. His tone said it all. My mother had driven a deep wedge between Amir and his father, and Amir had chosen Máma in the end.

  “The day I met her, my life changed.” He looked over at me, and I did not have to guess that he was thinking the same thing of meeting me. “I had never seen such blue eyes before. And she was so spirited, unlike any other woman I had met before. She could argue with me in a way that was smart and charming, and even after I admitted my infatuation with her, her arguments still stood better than mine in a way that was uncomfortable.”

  “I don’t remember her like that at all,” I said, looking around the library as if I was suddenly in search of her ghost. “She was very gentle and soft. She taught me how to read, and she would spend long days with me while Ben was off with my father. He probably followed him around like you did yours.”

  “That is why I think your brother and I get along so well,” Amir said. “Both of us understand the pain of a father’s rejection over something we could not help.”

  I saw his gaze fall to the looped scar on his hand, and I wondered if that injury had been what had turned Amir’s father away from him. Glancing down at the book in my hand, I saw that Amir’s scar was the same shape as the design on the cover.

  Amir cleared his throat a moment later. “But we were talking about your mother,” he said. “I met her in Agra, a city in the northern part of India. Harshad had asked my father to join him as his medic when he returned to India for a business trip of sorts. I doubt my father would have accepted his offer, if it was not for the political unrest facing the Sultan at the time.”

  “But he did accept, and you went along with him.”

  “My father learned his trade from the Ottoman Army. After he retired, he was a devout man of faith. When he heard Harshad was going to Agra, he was eager to go and see the Taj Mahal so he could worship in its legendary mosque.”

  “I’ve seen some drawings and maps of the Taj Mahal,” I said. “It is beautiful. I did not know it was also a place of worship. I thought it was just a tomb.”

  “It is that and more. And it is beautiful, but I barely noticed it at the time, of course.” Amir’s eyes looked off into the distance, and I wondered if he was somehow meeting my mother all over again.

  “Harshad was introducing me and my father to his business partner there. By then, my father was devoted to Harshad. He was a good man, if not a Muslim, and a rich one, too. Abba was hoping to convince them to pay for my remaining medical education. He had known Harshad long enough to know our family could earn much more if I was trained in Western and Eastern medication.”

  “It did not go as planned, I take it.”

  “No.” Amir smiled. “Abba was annoyed to find Harshad’s business partner was a woman, and a British one at that. I only found that out later, of course. When you are young, the complicated nature of politics, and what it does to people, is elusive. I did not understand my father’s concern over the British Empire at the time; I was taught they were the enemy, but one that we could get along with, if they would only play by the rules.”

  “I take it Lady POW made her usual impression.”

  “She did. She has her own rules.”

  I laughed. “That’s for sure.”

  “When they met, Naděžda and I also met. She was angry with me quickly enough, just as you were.”

  “Did you steal a book from her, too?” I asked, this time with a small, teasing smile.

  “No.” He laughed. “I’m afraid the reason is much worse. My manners were somewhat lacking, especially in British terms. This was her first trip into the East, and from what she told me, it was to get away from her father. Lady POW corrected her behavior, but Naděžda was unsettled by my ‘mongrel ways,’ and the moment our parents were distracted, she did not hesitate to tell me so.”

  “I don’t know why you even liked her.” I thought of all the diverse communities in Prague. If I were offended at every little slip in manners, I would have had to stay home.

&n
bsp; “I am not sure I did like her, at first,” Amir admitted. “But there was something about her that ... something I recognized. Eventually, we grew on each other and became inseparable, especially when I was done with my education and she was initiated into the Order.”

  “Did you go on adventures together?”

  “That is one way to say it.” Amir smiled, and from his expression, I knew he would refrain from telling me the whole story. I was not sure I wanted to hear it, either, from the sad joy I saw in his eyes.

  “We worked through London and Germany, protecting emissaries and investigating murders and other crimes. We did this for many years, before we ... before she left for her last mission to Prague.”

  I hugged the book in hands to my chest. I wanted to ask him why she left, but there was something too cruel about that question. “You don’t have to tell me anymore.”

  “Yes, I do.” He nodded toward the book again. “I owe you the truth.”

  I could not argue with him, even though I wanted to.

  “She left at the end of 1847, and I never heard from her after that. It was only after the Revolution concluded the following year that I heard from Lady POW. Your grandmother told me that Naděžda had married and resigned her position from the Order. That was all.”

  “She did not even tell you why she stayed in Prague?”

  “Another reason I was more eager to steal the book,” he admitted. “We did not end our friendship on a cordial note.”

  I was not able to stop myself from putting my hand on his arm. “I’m so sorry. I hope whatever is in here has given you peace.”

  “Thank you.”

  I waited for him to tell me what he had found, but he said nothing more.

  As I looked at Amir, I no longer saw a Turkish book thief. I saw a man who was desperately in love and unable to stop himself from any act of depravity if it would bring him closer to the answers he sought. In some ways, we were both searching for her; I was looking to find the woman that she had been, and he was determined to find out the woman she had become.

  “Thank you for telling me,” I said quietly, trying to give him a brave smile.

  There was a rustling sound outside the door, and Amir reached out for my hand. “It seems that the morning has come. We should get you back to your room, mademoiselle.”

  “That’s true.” As I took his arm, I saw the scar on his hand and stared at it. “I suppose you can call me Eleanora now. There’s no need for formalities, right?”

  “Are you saying you prefer the casualties?”

  I gave him a small smile, grateful for his levity. “Maybe. We’ll have to see how it goes when Harshad and Lady POW allow me to begin fighting.”

  “As much as it is something you might want, I hope you will not rush into it too eagerly. Death is not something to be eager for.”

  “I think it is more that I want their approval,” I admitted, somewhat surprised I said it aloud. But after a moment, I decided it was not so strange.

  In some ways, it is much easier to be honest with another person than it is to admit things to even yourself.

  “Do not allow your desire to acquire that get in your way of being free. If you want to be free, truly free, you should know that you answer to the truth, not to Lady Penelope or Harshad. Not even yourself at times.”

  I thought about that for a long moment, before deciding Amir was right.

  “If you do want to progress in this field, I believe you are doing the right thing by practicing. I have studied many years as a medical student, but I would not have learned even half of what I know if I had not been paying attention to the condition around me, and if I had not been proactive in seeking out new knowledge.”

  Amir’s logic impressed itself on me in that moment. He was right. Whether I failed or succeeded was not up to my teachers; it was up to me, and I had to take that responsibility seriously.

  And, I thought, that was what I was doing earlier this morning. And that reminded me of my own discoveries.

  “Wait.” I gripped Amir’s hand under my own. “That reminds me. I did actually learn something helpful today, and it is very important. It’s about our mission.”

  I quickly told Amir what I had heard from Cecilia and Alex, about how Lord Maximillian knew there was a secret heir to the throne of Bohemia, about how he was threatening Cecilia, and how Alex and Cecilia were likely plotting something in revenge.

  When I was done, Amir looked back at the fireplace.

  “Well then, I will send for tea. Lady POW and Harshad will want to hear this news for sure.”

  “You don’t seem surprised by this,” I said.

  Amir nodded to the book in my hands. “Your mother detailed her last mission in her journal, among other things. It seems Empress Maria Anna was pregnant when she arrived, which is why she worked so hard to persuade your father to protect the king.”

  “She would have done that.” I thought of my mother, how gentle and wonderful she had been with me when I was a child. “She always wanted children.”

  “I know.” There was something new and broken in Amir’s voice. He cleared his throat a moment later. “I was going to inform Harshad and Madame when they awoke this morning.”

  Before I could ask him another question or say anything else, he slipped his hand free from mine. “Go and change, Eleanora. I will summon the others.”

  “Wait.” I slowly held out my mother’s journal to Amir. “I can’t read this anyway. You might as well have it.”

  “Are you certain?” he asked.

  “I have other things of hers,” I said, gripping my mother’s locket inside my coat as he took the book from me. The design on the book and his scar seemed to align as he held it. “And if there is proof in her journal that what Cecilia said is true about the king’s son, maybe we can use that to find him.”

  “Thank you.” Amir clutched the book to his chest, and, as much as it hurt, I knew I was doing the right thing. “If it is agreeable, I would rather keep the matter of her book between us. Your grandmother will be willing to investigate Lady Cecilia’s claim, just by virtue of her saying it.”

  “Maybe you should say by vice instead of virtue.” I wrinkled my nose.

  Amir smiled. “This does mean that you will have to tell Lady POW of your nighttime adventure.”

  I bit my lip. If Lady POW learned of my adventure, it was possible that it would be harder for Ben to sneak me away from the Royal Summerhouse. I did not want to miss meeting Ferdy and his friends. “Maybe we should wait to tell her then.”

  “Are you worried about Lady POW’s response?” Amir asked. “There is nothing to worry about. She will be pleased once she learns of your information. Tulia has still refused to meet with us, and Harshad is still looking for a doctor or apothecary who sells the silver thallis herb in Prague.”

  “I will tell you why I’d like to wait, but I want your word that you will not say anything to Lady POW about it.”

  Amir’s mustache twitched in amusement. “You really are your mother’s daughter, Eleanora. Tell me what your plan is, and I will find a way to help you.”

  *16*

  ◊

  “You’re in fine spirits tonight, Eleanora.” Lady Penelope handed me a glass of lemonade. One of my many dance partners had recently fetched them for us, and I was grateful for it as I returned from the ballroom floor.

  We had arrived at the ball only an hour before, and I had stepped into dancing almost at once. I had to cause a stir, and from the way the Royal Summerhouse was set up for the evening, the dance floor took me to the middle of everyone’s attention.

  “You’re the one who insisted I would become a sensation,” I said. I took a long drink, hoping she would not notice my extra enthusiasm. “This is a good place to do it, with Count Potocki here.”

  “Are you trying to make Mr. Marcelin jealous?” Lady Penelope asked.

  “He can have my next free dance, if he is interested,” I said. “Assuming I have any open danc
es at all.”

  I glanced over to where Karl was standing. Underneath a brightly lit chandelier, he stood talking with Lord Maximillian and some other gentlemen, including Count Potocki and Lord Hohenwart. I saw that Teresa Marie was standing with them, too, but Karl was not paying attention to her.

  Almost as if I had whispered in his ear, he turned.

  From across the room, our eyes met. At first I blushed, embarrassed to be caught staring, but I boldly stared back. From where I was, I could see his gray eyes were stormy and somehow sad. I nodded toward Teresa Marie, giving Karl a look that clearly asked him if she was the reason for his displeasure.

  He gave me a rueful smile and a small shrug, before Teresa Marie tugged his arm and forced his attention back to her. I felt a twinge of sympathy for him, and in more ways than one. I was also a little afraid for him, as I knew Lord Maximillian was up to no good.

  “It seems he is otherwise preoccupied,” I told Lady POW, watching Teresa Marie scowl at me from behind his back.

  “Count Potocki is a good friend of his, and if we want the Minister-President to pay attention to us, we should give him good cause,” Lady Penelope replied.

  “I agree, but Count Potocki is the one who invited you. You don’t need me to get his attention.”

  There was no denying I had a lot of success in that chore. I heard the whispers—all of them, ranging from hushed awe to snippy criticism. The crowd questioned each other about everything from my hair to my shoes to my dancing partner, not to mention they would guess how much my dowry was worth and make bets over who would be the first to be rejected as my suitor.

  “I was invited out of courtesy by his office,” Lady Penelope said, drawing my attention from the glittering room before me. “I will not be able to ask him about his safety or anything relevant to our mission if I don’t have an excuse for a private meeting with him.”

  “I’ve been dancing and smiling and flirting tirelessly since we arrived. I think I can survive long enough on my own for you to go and make your introductions,” I said. “And if you wanted, I could do something that would give you more time.”