Soldiers of the Crown

by Stephen L. Nowland

  “Based on this information, perhaps you would consider visiting the home of Thomas Bartlett.” Kinsey said when Aiden had finished.

  “No argument there,” Aiden replied. “What about Senator Johnson, and this Lady Chelsea?”

  “Kara will investigate Chelsea, though I’ve no real reason to suspect her at this time,” Kinsey explained. “Johnson’s a powerful politician, so investigating him is going to take time and resources I don’t have. What we can do is cross Bartlett off my list before, but do so discreetly, if you please,”

  “Are you suggesting that I break into a man’s house illegally?” Pacian asked with exaggerated innocence.

  “I am suggesting no such thing,” Kinsey replied evenly. “We have never even spoken of such activities, and my meeting here with you was merely a courtesy to Her Highness.”

  “Gotcha,” Pacian winked, chewing on some bread to hide his grin. Apparently, he felt differently about the situation.

  “Make sure you aren’t discovered, because I have it on good authority that he is quite a capable swordsman and wouldn’t take kindly to finding you snooping around his home. Here is his address,” Kinsey said, handing Aiden a scrap of paper.

  “We’ll get it done,” Aiden promised.

  “Good fortune to you both,” Kinsey finished, nodding to Kara who opened the door and allowed the staff to get back to work. She slipped outside and disappeared from sight, while Kinsey went out the way he came at his own stately pace, with Aiden and Pacian heading back out after he’d left.

  “I like him,” Pacian said. “He’s the king’s go-to man for getting things done, even if they aren’t, strictly speaking, legal.”

  “Yes, I can’t imagine why you’d have anything in common with Kinsey,” Aiden drawled. “You know, with the storm outside, this might be the best time to carry out this little investigation anyway,” Aiden mused. “No one is going to see us breaking in. If we’re quick, we can be back before sunset.”

  “Right, well, I’ll be taking my cloak back now,” Pacian reminded him. Aiden reluctantly conceded the warm garment back to its rightful owner and then headed upstairs to his room and quickly dressed in his leather armour. He looked around for his longcoat, but then recalled he’d given it to Valennia last night. When he returned downstairs and pushed through the crowd towards the door, she appeared next to them.

  “Aiden, I require my daily payment in order to purchase new clothing,” she declared, moving to obstruct their passage. Aiden fished around in his pouch, but came up empty.

  “Come with us to the bank and I’ll pay you. You can probably return my longcoat too.”

  “If you wish the return of your garment, then I shall hand it over now,” she stated, moving to take off the coat.

  “No, that’s okay,” Aiden blurted, catching a glimpse of what little lied beneath it. “You can keep it until you buy something else to cover yourself with.”

  “As you wish. Lead on, then,” she relented, stepping aside so they could exit through the door.

  It seemed the inclement weather was here to stay, at least for the foreseeable future. They moved along the freezing streets for a few minutes before arriving at the Royal Bank, a small fortress of a building that was blessedly warm inside. A quick talk with a dully attired woman behind a long, polished counter revealed that he had, at his disposal, the sum of fifty gold sovereigns, an amount that made his eyes bulge in disbelief.

  The crown was a generous employer, though he did realise this was supposed to be for emergencies only. He withdrew a couple of gold coins and flipped them to Valennia.

  “Get yourself some proper armour while you’re at it,” he told her, smiling slightly at the shocked look on her face as she caught the precious coins. A moment later she was taking off the longcoat, and this time nothing was going to stop her.

  There were several gasps from bank patrons and staff at the scantily clad women in the hall, and more than one elderly man was slapped for his wandering eyes by his wife. Her body was covered in bruises and cuts from the battle, and it was for that reason alone that Aiden took a moment to examine her — in case she needed medical attention or something.

  Leaving her to take care of her own shopping across the street, the two boys pressed on through the terrible conditions. He hunched down in his longcoat as they walked, wishing that he could be sitting next to the fire instead of out here freezing his behind off.

  Aiden was snapped out of his idle reverie by Pacian, who seemed just as miserable pushing his way through the ever-deepening snow banks covering the streets.

  “So do you want to talk about it?” Pacian asked bluntly.

  “About what, exactly?”

  “Sayana being in bed with Ronan, what do you think?” Pacian reminded him.

  “Nope, can’t think of a thing to say,” Aiden replied mildly.

  “That’s a lie and we both know it,” Pacian chuckled. “You’ve never been short on words, Aiden, so if it’s bothering you, just speak your mind.”

  “Of course it bothers me,” Aiden snapped, “do you think I’m made of stone? She has her reasons for ending our time together, but I guess she still felt something for me because when she noticed Criosa and all that flirting, she wanted some reassurance.”

  “That’s more like it,” Pacian said with a nod. “Look, she’s new to the civilised life, and there are a lot of interesting people to meet along the way. Let her have some fun and frankly, you should do the same.”

  “Bed Ronan? He’s not really my type,” Aiden joked, though his heart wasn’t in it.

  “Funny. I mean there are plenty of girls here in the city to uh, ‘bump into’, and they’re not royalty or anything,” Pacian clarified. “A few of those serving girls at the inn are very nice, and I don’t mean they’re pleasant to talk to either, if you get my meaning.”

  “I’m sure Valennia does,” Aiden pointed out, not willing to take relationship advice from Pacian, who groaned in response.

  “That was an accident. I guess when I’m drunk, old habits kick in. I can’t remember a bloody thing.”

  “Go easy on the beer next time,” Aiden advised. “Imagine if Nel heard about it.”

  “She’d better not,” Pacian muttered, his breath freezing in the chilly air as they passed through a gate to the affluent northern part of the city.

  “Not that you’re a couple or anything,” Aiden mused. “How’s that working out for you anyway?”

  “Hey, she’s going through some changes lately and I don’t want to pressure her,” Pacian protested.

  “Are you trying to win her favour or that old argument you two have?” Aiden inquired archly. “The one where you try to convince her stabbing people is the best way to resolve issues, while she tries to make you into a proper gentleman.”

  “I think I can do both,” Pacian replied after a moment’s thought. “Once she comes around to my way of thinking, I’ll seem like the perfect soulmate and then I’ll make my move.”

  “So, did you head straight for Val, or did you try to kiss Nellise at some point during the other night when we were drunk?” Aiden pressed.

  “How should I know?” Pacian muttered mournfully. “If she saw me snogging Val it sure would explain her attitude towards me since then. My real concern is that bloody knight. He should know better than to make a play for a woman young enough to be his granddaughter.”

  “Are you still hung up on that?” Aiden asked in disbelief. “I think their relationship is more spiritual than physical.”

  “It better be, or I’m gonna take that poncy sword of his and shove—”

  “Okay I think this is the street,” Aiden interrupted quickly, looking at the small piece of paper with Thomas Bartlett’s address scrawled on it. Although in the wealthy quarter of the city, the buildings here weren’t exactly mansions. A few brave souls hurried along through the streets going about their daily work where possible, but with the shroud of fog and snow reducing visibility down to less than twenty yard
s, Aiden guessed they shouldn’t have any trouble with this task.

  “Ok that’s the place on the corner,” Aiden whispered, nodding towards the small, two-storey house that was crowded up against all the other small abodes in this part of the city. There were a few people about, but they were more intent with getting out of the weather than watching for thieves.

  “Watchman over there,” Pacian added, subtly gesturing towards a man wearing the helmet of the City Watch, who seemed to be casually patrolling the street. Pacian pushed Aiden back towards the wall of a small house behind them, which offered a little shelter from the wind.

  “Let’s just see how long it takes him to walk his route,” he advised. Pacian watched with his sharp eyes and made notes as to how often the guard passed by. There were, in fact, two guards that went along this street, on separate patrols that happened to cross over.

  “Okay, we’re not getting in the front door without being seen,” Pacian whispered. Most of these old buildings have a back entrance into an alley. Let’s go try that.” Aiden agreed and followed Pacian down the street, then around the corner where they located the right alley and made their way down the narrow passage past refuse and discarded junk.

  Aiden had been keeping count and pointed them to the correct door. Pacian took a look around and took off his gloves. For this job, he needed all the precision his hands could offer, and the gloves would just get in the way. “I don’t see any smoke coming from the chimney and no lanterns are visible through the windows, so I think he’s out for the time being.”

  “This reminds me of old times,” Aiden reminded him as the adrenaline started to kick in.

  “You remember all that now?” Pacian asked absently, fetching the tools of the trade from his pouch.

  “Only the jobs we did after I fell in that cave.”

  “Maybe doing this more often would help jog your memory,” Pacian shrugged, pausing for a few seconds longer before he attempted to pick the lock after nearly half a minute it finally made a satisfying click, allowing them entry to the small house.

  “Are you getting sloppy in your advancing years?” Aiden remarked while glancing at their surroundings.

  “That was the strangest lock I’ve ever seen,” Pacian whispered back. “Took me a bit longer to figure out than I thought, and in the end, I just forced it. It’ll need replacing.” They fell silent as they looked around. The room before them was lit only by daylight filtering in through the small windows. The fire was out yet the interior was still a vast improvement on the bitter chill outside.

  At this point, Aiden generally left things to Pacian, who had a nose for sniffing out secret compartments whether in a wall, inside a desk, or even under a loose floorboard. He could only guess at what they were looking for here, and it would take all of his skill to track down any incriminating information hidden inside the house.

  As Pace went to work, Aiden took in the lavish carpeting, plush furniture and cabinets filled with exquisite glasses and plates. The place had a dry, musty aroma suggesting it wasn’t often used. Several paintings of elderly statesmen adorned the walls, and upon closer inspection he could see they were family members from years past, patrons of the Bartlett family during the developing years of Fairloch. Pacian spent nearly ten minutes going over every nook and cranny downstairs, with disappointing results.

  “It would have been helpful to have an idea what the hell I’m looking for,” he hissed in frustration. “If it was coins, I could have ransacked the place and been gone five minutes ago.” The sound of a key rattling in front door made Aiden’s heart leap into his throat, and a quick glance showed Pacian stifling the urge to curse loudly. A nearby stairwell beckoned them and within moments they were creeping up to the top level of the house, just as the unexpected owner entered.

  There were three doors leading off a small corridor at the top of the stairs, and all of them were open. Pacian crept forward on the plush carpet, trying to minimise the creaking of his leathers beneath his longcoat with Aiden following closely. It didn’t sound like the newcomer was heading up the stairs just yet, giving them time to duck into the closest room to hide.

  Judging by the desk and cabinets, it appeared to be a small office with a large quantity of papers scattered about. Thomas was either a disorganised worker, or he had left the place in a hurry. Pacian crouched down under the desk and Aiden moved across the room until he found an alcove to squeeze in, near a wardrobe door. Thinking it a good place to hide, he opened the wardrobe and stepped inside, noticing a chest at his feet.

  He gestured to Pacian who came out from under the desk and cautiously made his way over to the wardrobe and Aiden kept a lookout while Pacian dealt with the chest’s lock. An assortment of valuables was revealed within, including a sealed envelope. Pacian fetched it out and softly closed the chest, handing the envelope to Aiden.

  Holding it towards the window for light, he noticed the seal was already broken and pulled out a sheet of paper covered with writing, inked in a familiar style.

  My dear associate, I regret your recent loss. Your brother was a man of conviction in difficult times. It is, however, troubling that Commander Black was unable to secure the princess for us. I would have preferred to have her out of the way rather than eliminated, but desperate times call for desperate measures. I have contacted a former assassin, along with diverse associates of a professional nature to assist in this regard.

  If the Senate prove to be as intractable as Criosa, then they must be eliminated as well. Your work thus far has been invaluable to the cause, and I would have you make all necessary arrangements to assist our allies. Please destroy this missive along with the others. Sincerely, Number One.

  Aiden placed a hand against the wall to steady himself, for Thomas’ failure to burn this note had turned this whole affair in their favour. The sound of footsteps coming up the stairway put a damper on his spirits, and set his mind racing as to how they would get out with this damning evidence.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Aiden’s heart thundered in his ears as the footsteps approached. He briefly considered pulling out one of his few remaining scrolls to give him an edge in any confrontation, but quickly withdrew his hand, dismissing the sudden desire as a waste of a limited resource.

  Pacian took up position on the side of the doorway, gesturing at his dagger and making a slashing motion across his throat. Aiden shook his head to indicate this would be a very bad thing.

  Their visitor crested the stairs and Aiden quickly fell back against the wall next to Pacian. Moments later a balding, middle-aged man who seemed quite fit walked into the room, wearing an expensive longcoat over fine clothing and bearing a family resemblance that prompted Aiden to wonder if the entire Bartlett family were criminals.

  As Thomas moved over to the desk, he noticed them and immediately bolted back out the door and down the stairs. Aiden was taken completely by surprise at this reaction but Pacian leapt after him like a cat chasing a mouse.

  Aiden snapped out of his trance and rushed after them as Pacian took the man down in a flying tackle that sent both of them tumbling down the stairs with fists flying. Aiden hurried after them but there was nothing he could do to help, for the two of them were rolling around smashing into furniture and tables, knocking plates and other ornaments to the floor.

  Pacian drew a dagger and slashed a wide cut on Thomas’s face, just missing his left eye. Thomas responded by reaching up to a nearby table with one hand, grabbing a vase and bringing it down on Pacian’s head. He reeled from the blow as the vase shattered, dropping his dagger and flailing against the floor. Thomas kicked him away and struggled to his feet, but Aiden drew his sword and rushed forward with the point levelled at the man’s chest.

  “Who the devil are you, and what are you doing in my house?” Thomas exclaimed, breathing hard after the short but vicious fight. His eyes didn’t leave Aiden for a second, giving the impression of a dangerous, hunted individual.

  “Never mind who we
are,” Aiden replied grimly. “We know you’re involved with the people who attempted to kidnap the princess, and I want to know everything you do about who’s behind this.”

  “What letter? I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Thomas protested, wiping a line of red from his face. Aiden looked down at Pacian to make sure he was still alive and saw blood flowing from where the vase had struck him.

  “Pace, are you okay?” he asked, but before his friend could answer Thomas took advantage of the momentary distraction and drew a rapier from its sheath under his longcoat, skewering the note in Aiden’s hand with one deft movement and ripping it from his grasp. Aiden immediately gave him his full attention, holding his sword up defensively but silently cursing himself for underestimating this man.

  “You are trying to frame me,” Thomas growled after pulling the note off the sword and reading a little of it. “I know that handwriting, and I plan to send you back to your master in tiny pieces.” Aiden’s mind whirled at the possibility that the note was false, planted there to frame the man.

  “Wait a moment,” he protested as Thomas screwed up the note and threw it into the fireplace. “No!” Aiden cried, but was forced back as Thomas slashed viciously with his blade.

  Aiden was hoping that Pacian would shake off the daze and help out, but couldn’t wait for him to get back on his feet. Instead of trying to fight him, Aiden desperately tried another approach.

  “I yield,” he cried, lowering his blade. Thomas looked confused for a brief moment, checking to make sure Pacian wasn’t trying to sneak up on him before sending Aiden’s sword across the room with a flick of his wrist.

  “I do not require your surrender, only your death,” Thomas warned.

  “We didn’t plant that note there, but I have a feeling that whoever did wanted people like us to find it,” Aiden explained hastily. “We’re working for the Crown, not whomever this ‘Number One’ person is.” Thomas levelled his gaze at Aiden for a long moment.