“Finally and most important, give this to Her Ladyship,” said Henry. He withdrew the letter from his pocket. “Deliver it directly into her hands. Do not trust it to a servant or anyone else.”
“I promise, my lord,” said Rodrigo.
“Read the letter and memorize the contents so that if you are forced to destroy it, you can still convey the message to Her Ladyship.”
“I understand,” said Rodrigo with unusual gravity. “I assure you, my lord, I am far more trustworthy than I appear. How am I to reach Rosia?”
“A man of my acquaintance operates what appears to be an ordinary fishing trawler on the River Woldrith. By making some adjustments, he can transform the trawler into a ship that can sail the Breath. He is quite reliable. He has done business for me in the past.”
“Fishing!” Rodrigo repeated, shuddering. He sank down in a chair. “Cod and flounder! I am to sail with cod and flounder.”
“There will be no fishing done while you are on board, sir,” said Henry in soothing tones. “You will be sailing the Breath.”
“But the stench!” Rodrigo cringed. “The smell of fish creeps into the wood, you know. Still, I am willing to make the sacrifice. I don’t suppose I could speak to the princess before I leave?”
Henry shook his head. “Best for all parties if you do not know her location. In case you are captured.”
“Torture and all that,” said Rodrigo with a sorrowful nod. “I am certain I should succumb at the mere sight of thumbscrews and reveal all I know and most of what I don’t. Where am I to be and when?”
Henry wrote down an address on a card. “Wait until dark to leave. I will send a conveyance to pick you up. Once you have arrived at the docks, look for the Lucy Lou. Captain Anderson will be expecting you. Will you be safe in this house until evening? I could convey you away in my coach now.”
“I must pack and that could take hours. Besides, I doubt those lads will be back,” said Rodrigo. “They were considerably disheartened when they saw their mates lying on the stoop with their skulls cracked open. Although,” he added in thoughtful tones, “I rather believe from the threats they issued that they do plan to return tonight to set fire to the place.”
“I will send an armed guard with the driver,” said Henry. “Thank you for undertaking this mission.”
“For king and country. The enemy of my something is my something. Can’t recall the quote, precisely, but if I could, I believe it would sum up the situation between you and me. Along with that other quote regarding strange bedfellows.”
Rodrigo opened the door. Henry cast a distrustful glance up at the tiles on the roof before stepping out.
“If you don’t mind my asking, how did you manage to topple those onto your unsuspecting guests?” Henry asked.
“Magical constructs to loosen them,” Rodrigo explained. “Magic to make them fly. Magic on the stoop. When I arm the magic on the stoop, a single footfall activates the sympathetic magic on the tiles on the roof. Up they go and down they come—smash.”
“Ingenious,” said Henry.
Rodrigo was pleased. “I originally designed them to deter those annoying do-gooders who come round to preach to one that I should repent my sins. The truth is, I enjoy my sins.”
Henry was thankful he had decided to leave Pastor Tobias Johnstone at home. “The carriage will be here at eight of the clock.”
“I will be dressed for the voyage in oilskins and a sou’wester—whatever that is,” said Rodrigo. He grew more serious. “Assure Her Highness she may rely on me. Please convey my love.”
The two men shook hands. Henry made an awkward leap across the stoop and managed to land on the sidewalk without breaking an ankle.
“The letter is delivered. What is done is done and, as Rodrigo would say, cannot be something something,” Henry reflected. “And now that I have betrayed my country, I can make amends by trying to save her.”
SIXTEEN
The queen’s body lay in state before the altar of the Royal Chapel in the great cathedral where her husband, her son, and her grandson were interred in the family vault. The coffin was covered by a Freyan flag trimmed with golden fringe, mounted on a catafalque draped in purple. The queen’s crown lay on a purple pillow atop the casket.
The people of Freya stood in a long line in the chill, gray autumn weather to file past the casket and pay their last respects to their monarch. The queen’s griffins held their own vigil by perching atop the steep roof of the cathedral. Many felt their presence to be disconcerting, finding it difficult to withstand the fierce gaze of the beasts’ eyes as they glared down on all who entered.
The funeral was held a fortnight after the queen’s death to permit time for representatives of all the nations of the world to attend. These included King Ullr, who arrived on his royal yacht. He had intended to stay on his yacht, but the Gazette reported that His Royal Majesty, King Thomas, had invited his fellow monarch to stay in guest quarters in the palace.
The newspaper also reported that King Ullr was greeted upon his arrival at the palace by the newly named Chancellor of War, Jonathan Smythe, who belonged to the Fundamentalist religion which had its roots in the Guundaran religion. Both sects tended to view God as a strict general commanding his forces rather than a benevolent deity. Royal observers who were in attendance reported that the two men warmly shook hands before going off to hold private talks.
The Rosians had not sent a representative. They had most strenuously denied any involvement in the queen’s death, but no one believed them.
The king and queen of Estara came to pay their respects to the queen and to warmly support Thomas, who was well known to both of them. They were immensely surprised to learn that his parents would not be in attendance. They knew his mother, Constanza, and were aware that she had worked and schemed her entire life to place her son upon the Freyan throne. Thomas informed them that his mother had unfortunately fallen ill and could not travel.
The two also thought it strange that Chancellor Smythe was always present during their meetings with the king. They said nothing to Thomas, though a great deal to each other. When the queen of Estara sought a private audience with Thomas, the chancellor informed her that His Majesty was indisposed.
The dragons of the Dragon Duchies did not attend either. They were outraged over suspicion falling on the princess and the Countess de Marjolaine—two humans held in high esteem by the dragons—and sent only a stiff and formal letter of condolence.
The Braffan oligarchs all attended, including Henry’s nemesis, Frau Aalder, and prominent members of the Travian cartels.
The nobility of Freya traveled from all parts of the country, their yachts filling the harbor. The general populace of Freya came to pay their respects as well, riding in wagons or carts or walking on foot to say good-bye to their queen and to catch a glimpse of their new king, who would be making his first public appearance since ascending to the throne.
Haever was thronged with visitors. Innkeepers tripled their prices and still sold out. The streets were clogged with traffic and gawkers. Shopkeepers draped their storefronts with black bunting, and clothiers could not keep black crepe in stock.
The crowds suited Henry, for he could lose himself among them. He did not join those paying their respects to the queen, for he knew that Smythe would have his guards watching for him. Henry had bid farewell to the dead on that terrible night he had found his queen’s body. His regard was now for the living, as Mary would have wanted.
Henry had arranged to meet his friends at the Weigh Anchor, along with Simon and his manservant, Mr. Albright, who had been missing since the night of the attack on Welkinstead. Alan and Randolph had been agreeably surprised one night to find Mr. Albright loitering on the street outside the Naval Club.
“He went to your house that night as you suspected, Henry,” Alan reported. “He found it overrun with soldiers and escaped before they saw him. He was returning to Welkinstead when he was horrified to see the house come unde
r attack and then disappear. He realized that searching for the house and Simon would be futile, and that his best of hope of discovering what had become of his master was to look for us at the Naval Club.”
Henry arrived to find Simon, Alan, and Randolph already seated at a table. Henry paused in the doorway and sent a questioning look at Alan. He nodded his head, indicating that it was safe for Henry to enter.
“Where is Albright?” Henry asked Simon as he sat down.
“He is in Welkinstead, starting work on the house. I will have to restore the magic myself, but Albright can repair the damage done to the structure and the lift tanks, as well as the damage Alan and Randolph did to the roof.”
“We didn’t damage your roof!” Randolph said, offended. “It was that goddamn green-beam gun!”
“He was jesting, Randolph,” Alan said.
“Well, it’s not funny,” Randolph muttered.
“In the interim, I have devised that cipher for you, Henry,” said Simon. “Since you will be relying on it to convey urgent messages to the king, I have made it difficult to detect, as well as easy to use.”
Simon handed over a folded piece of paper. Henry read through it, smiled, and secreted it in an inner pocket.
“I plan to spend my time continuing to search for the pool of liquid Breath,” Simon continued. “Alan, I was thinking. You are friends with the owner of a tavern in Freeport. He had something to do with that female pirate with the dragon.…”
“Olaf,” said Alan. “What about him?”
“I need you to carry a message to him,” said Simon. “I have determined what I believe to be the approximate longitude and latitude for the location of the pool of liquid Breath. This Olaf is a sailor, as I recall, and he could search for it.”
“I’ll send him the message,” said Alan. He added somberly, with a wink at Henry, “But you should know that Olaf is eighty years old if he’s a day. I’m not sure he will be eager to go sailing about the Breath searching for a pool that exists only in mathematical equations.”
Henry saw Simon about to launch into an explanation and hurriedly rose to his feet.
“I must deliver the cipher to Miss Amelia. What have you and Randolph been doing these days, Alan?”
“Preparing our ships to salute Her Majesty on the day of the funeral. After that, we will be awaiting orders and training our gun crews for war with Rosia,” said Alan.
“If a shot should ‘accidentally’ sink King Ullr’s yacht, I will stand you a round of drinks,” Henry said.
Leaving the tavern, Henry went to pay Miss Amelia another visit disguised as Pastor Johnstone.
“My neighbors are going to start to talk,” said Amelia with a chuckle as she ushered the pastor inside.
“I am here for the good of your soul, Miss Amelia,” said Henry.
“If ever the devil wore a pleasing countenance, it is you, my lord,” said Amelia.
She led him to the kitchen, where he found Kate and Sophia and Bandit waiting for him. The dog wagged his tail with such enthusiasm that the spaniel tipped himself over sideways.
Henry reached down to pet Bandit and declined Amelia’s offer of tea.
“My friend, Simon Yates, and I have devised a way to communicate with His Majesty.”
Kate flushed with pleasure. Sophia clapped her hands.
“We are going to send him messages in cipher through the Haever Gazette. The messages will be embedded in Captain Kate stories. Of course, Smythe could be preventing His Majesty from reading the newspaper, though I rather think not. I see no reason why he should. If that is the case, His Majesty should be able to find access to one.”
“How does this cipher work?” Amelia asked.
Henry placed a newspaper on the table. “Here is a Captain Kate story. His Majesty needs to know only a single key word. Let us say that key word is ‘dragon.’”
Henry underlined the word.
“Wherever that key word appears in the story, the next line conveys information. For example: ‘Captain Kate flew to Haever on her dragon.’ The next line reads, ‘Once in Haever, Kate sent word to Prince Tom to meet the first night of the full moon.’ The next time the word dragon appears, the sentence following states, ‘She planned to meet Prince Tom beneath the large willow tree in All Saints cemetery.’”
“I don’t see why we need to involve Prince Tom in the story,” Kate protested.
“Or that Captain Kate falls in love with him,” said Sophia slyly.
“Because Smythe has to approve everything the paper publishes and he will be certain to approve this,” said Henry. “He wants to increase Thomas’s popularity among the people since that will strengthen his own hold on power.”
“But how do we provide His Majesty with the key to the cipher?”
Henry had been wondering that himself. He had devised several plans, but he didn’t particularly like any of them.
“I have an idea!” said Sophia. “Thomas will be part of the royal procession to the cathedral. The route will be thronged with thousands of people hoping to catch a glimpse of him. Since Thomas is not married, all the young women in Haever will be particularly eager to try to catch his eye. Kate will be among them and she will find a way to give Thomas the message.”
“An excellent plan! I have been longing for something to do,” Kate said. “If I stay cooped up in this house a moment longer, I will go mad.”
“You need to think this through carefully, Kate,” Henry warned. “Smythe knows you. He will be keeping close to the king and he will not hesitate to kill you if he sees you. I can have my people nearby, but you will be on your own. If anything goes wrong, they won’t be able to come to your aid.”
Kate gave him a smile. “You know better than most that I can take care of myself, my lord. I managed to save your life.”
Henry had to admit that what she said was true. On the other hand, he could have added that it was her reckless meddling that had placed his life in danger. He kept that to himself, however, though he privately determined he would form his own backup plan, just in case.
“Then we are decided. I will make the arrangements.”
Leaving Amelia’s, Pastor Johnstone traveled to a small church located on the banks of the River Woldrith that ran through Haever. The church was old and weathered, looking very much as if it had washed downstream and fetched up on the bank. The congregation consisted of those who plied the river and earned their living from it: fisher folk, ferry operators, bargemen. The church door was always open, day or night.
Pastor Johnstone tottered inside, leaning on his cane, and sank down on one of the wooden benches that served as pews, choosing the second from the back. He was not alone. Three older women were arranging flowers on the altar and gossiping about their neighbors. A man wearing a shabby pea coat and a stocking knit hat knelt in a pew near the front. The priest was talking to a young couple who were going to have their new baby blessed.
Henry removed his hat and clasped his hands to pray, leaning his cane against the pew. Unfortunately, he accidentally hit the cane with his foot and knocked it over and had to reach down to pick it up. He quickly felt beneath the bench. Finding no letter attached to the underside of the bench, he grimaced in disappointment.
The hushed stillness inside the small church lulled Henry into lingering longer than he had intended. He was not a believer. Henry viewed with scorn the notion that some all-knowing deity wielded cosmic control over his daily existence. But here, in the restful silence, he took a moment to think tender thoughts of his beloved Mouse and Master Henry and baby Mary.
He was putting on his hat, intending to depart, when he became aware of the man in the shabby coat sitting at the end of the pew. Something about him seemed familiar. Henry looked at him intently. The man turned to face Henry, who recognized him and nearly gave himself away with an exclamation of joy.
Henry managed to contain his happiness long enough to make his way out of the church. He went to the quiet cemetery behind the b
uilding and, ascertaining that it was deserted, he turned to grasp the hand of the man in the shabby coat who had followed him.
“Mr. Sloan! Franklin! I am so glad to see you! How are you? You look exhausted,” said Henry. He noticed that Mr. Sloan had pressed his hand to his side and added worriedly, “You are not fully recovered from your wound. Here, come and sit down.”
He guided his secretary to a stone bench placed among the tombstones for the benefit of mourners.
“I was not expecting you! Is something wrong?” Henry continued, a prey to fear. “My family—”
“Lady Ann and the children are well, my lord,” Mr. Sloan hastened to reassure him. “They are in good spirits, though they miss you, of course.”
Henry sighed in relief. “Thank you, Mr. Sloan.” He had to take a moment to compose himself before he could speak again. “You must have flown here on the wings of angels to be back so soon.”
Mr. Sloan faintly smiled. “Wings of a griffin, my lord. The countess is beside herself with fear for the princess, who has not returned to Rosia and appears to have vanished. The countess’s agents cannot find her, and the countess was going to come herself, despite the danger. I offered to come in her stead.”
“The countess may rest easy,” said Henry. “I have already dispatched a messenger to assure her that the princess is safe and in good hands.”
“Excellent news, my lord,” said Mr. Sloan. “The countess will be most relieved. She also asked me to convey information to you. She thought it better if I delivered the message in person, rather than trusting to the mail.”
Henry braced himself. “This must be serious.”
“Have you heard from your agents in Guundar recently?”
“I have not, Mr. Sloan,” said Henry. “My communications have been disrupted. I dare not return to the Foreign Office. I assume from your question that the countess has heard from her agents in Guundar. King Ullr is in Freya to attend the queen’s funeral. What is that bastard plotting now?”
Kingmaker (The Dragon Corsairs) Page 17
