The Witch Watch
Page 37
The sun was streaming into the wide white room. The walls were gilded, and even the gilding was gilded, to the point where it almost seemed a waste to hang such grand paintings over any of it. The furniture was designed to look as ornate and expensive as possible. This required that certain tradeoffs be made in the area of comfort, so everyone had chosen to stand.
It was early December, more than two weeks after the Battle of Buckingham. The papers were still talking about it. Various conspirators were still being rounded up and sent to Tyburn. This morning the Witch Watch had been summoned to the palace to have an audience with Her Majesty, where their efforts would be recognized in an official capacity.
The tall doors swung open and Lord Moxley drifted in, looking very much like his old self: Aloof, preoccupied, bemused, and expensively dressed.
“Are you ready?” he asked them.
Simon looked alarmed and stood up straight. “She’s coming now?” he asked nervously.
“No my dear boy. The Queen will not come to you. You will go to her. This is a waiting room, not a room for entertaining guests. And take your hat off!”
Simon snatched the hat from his head sheepishly.
Gilbert turned from the window, “This is a waiting room?” he marveled.
“It’s not called that, but yes, that’s what it is. It’s not even the nicest one,” Moxley replied. Then he caught sight of Alice. “My dear, you are radiant! That dress is so remarkable that most people will only be very mildly offended by the childish ribbons in your hair.”
Alice spun slowly, showing off the dress. “Another gift from Mother, of course. This one is from Italy, I believe.”
“And I see you have elected to scandalize Her Majesty with bare shoulders,” he replied with a deep sigh.
“Please don’t tell me you expect me to change.”
“I think Her Majesty will survive the sight of your shoulders. Her sons may slay one another for your hand, I’m afraid, so do be careful.”
“I will try,” Alice promised.
“Now, Private Archer. No, I’m sorry, it’s simply ‘Mister Archer’, effective now.”
Looking alarmed, Archer protested, “What? I’m no longer a member of Her Majesty’s Service?”
Moxley shrugged, as if the question were a trifling detail. “Well, you are still in her service, if you take my meaning, but no longer a member of our armed forces. This is all part of the effort to move our ministry away from its military roots and make it an organization of specialists. No more marching around with a group of men in uniforms now. The Witch Watch will consist of you four.”
“I was going to make Lance Corporal soon,” Archer pleaded.
“Fine. Return to the military if you like. I’m not in charge of your career. But if you stay with the ministry you’ll be making more than a Second Lieutenant.”
Archer looked momentarily stunned, “I see. Well, that’s all right then.”
Moxley turned back to Alice and lowered his voice somewhat. “Now, there’s a delicate item that I need to go over with you. For some years Mordaunt was considered the unofficial physician of the Royal Family, and of Prince Albert in particular. This must have been a very well-kept secret, because I never heard even a hint of it. This morning Prince Albert confided in me that Lord Mordaunt had saved his life on more than one occasion. Using magic, of course.”
Alice looked troubled. “Is he looking to us to continue the practice?”
“I don’t think so. He merely asked if we had any understanding of this healing business, or if any knowledge had survived.”
Alice looked slightly pained, “I accompanied the army when they stormed the Ravenstead estate a few days ago, and we were able to recover the balance of Lord Mordaunt’s library. It was very large and wide-ranging, and was nearly enough to replace what we had lost to the church. Simon and I have been studying the books as time has allowed.”
“You’re going to tell me that the secrets of miraculous healing have been lost, aren’t you?” Moxley said accusingly.
“Sadly, no. We recovered them in full, and the truth is going to make a great number of people very uncomfortable. All of the healing performed by Mordaunt involved the use of vigor.”
“And I take it obtaining vigor is an unsavory process?”
“It involves killing people. The younger the better.”
Moxley gasped, “So all of the nobles who were healed by Lord Mordaunt…”
Alice nodded, “All of those healings involved the death of at least one person. Often it involved more. The magic is not terribly efficient.”
“If this gets out, it could lead to scandal unending,” Moxley said, holding one hand to his brow.
“I don’t see how,” Alice protested. “I’m sure none of them knew about the origins of their healing.”
“True, but ‘scandal’ and ‘justice’ are not related and should not be confused. Scandals are very often unreasonable and unfair. At any rate, don’t mention any of this during your audience. In fact, don’t mention anything supernatural at all!” Moxley addressed this last comment to the rest of the group as well.
Moxley then waved for all of them to join him near the door. “I suppose I should prepare all of you for this meeting. Most importantly, Her Majesty is going to present you with gifts. Alice, you will be given a large set of various watch-making tools and fine machinery parts. Nobody really understood what you might need or use, and so they erred on the side of overabundance. You will not be able to carry them alone.”
Alice beamed, but resisted the urge to cry out.
Moxley continued, “Archer, you will be given a rifle. You may open the case to admire it but do not brandish it in the presence of Her Majesty. That would be considered rude.”
“What model?” Archer asked eagerly.
Moxley shrugged. “I’m sure I have no idea, and neither does the Queen. The instructions were to obtain for you something grand and ornate, not something advanced. I doubt you’ll find it professionally useful. It will probably be a hunting rifle of some variety. The only thing I can tell you is that it is silver-plated, which is probably not the sort of information you’re looking for.”
Archer looked slightly crestfallen, then caught himself and gave a polite nod.
Next Moxley turned to Simon, “Now as for you… The Queen is giving you property.”
Simon engaged in a heroic attempt to hide his disappointment, which failed.
Moxley seemed to have anticipated this reaction. “I imagine you have no idea what you’ll do with property here in London. It may sound strange at your age, but in time you’ll realize that yours is the grandest and most expensive gift of them all. You will also choose a surname for yourself, and she has arranged for you to be educated, provided it does not interfere with your duties. I’m afraid the Queen was quite taken with your story, and this is how she has chosen to express concern for your plight.”
Moxley took a step back and looked over the group one last time. “I have spoiled your surprises for a reason: I do not want you to express an inappropriate level of gratitude. Don’t be giddy,” he gave Alice a sideways glance as he said this. “Don’t be too cold,” he said in Simon’s direction. “When in doubt, speak quietly and bow.”
“What about Gilbert?” Alice said indignantly. “Why is there no gift for him? He’s lost more than any of us in this adventure, including Simon!”
“I’m not going to meet the Queen,” Gilbert said. Moxley nodded.
“Why not? This is outrageous!” she fumed.
Moxley replied gently, “My dear, we have made great strides in breaking down taboos and opening the minds of the people to our work. We have even come so far that the Queen will officially permit an abomination to live within the city, as property of the Witch Watch. But we are nowhere near the point where a monarch would willingly meet with, or speak to, an abomination. It is beyond imagination.”
“I prefer it this way,” Gilbert reassured her. “Besides, I already
have the gift I want.” He waved the arm she had bolted back onto his body.
Once Alice had regained her composure, the three of them left to see the Queen. Gilbert and Lord Moxley were alone.
“She was right, you know,” Moxley said. They were standing side-by-side, looking out over London. The city had been dusted with snow, which covered over the scars and scorch marks of the earlier battles. “Your sacrifice, however unintentional, saved many lives. Perhaps the Empire as we know it. If you hadn’t died, this plot may have succeeded.”
Gilbert nodded slowly. “In death, I managed to achieve what I’d always wanted in life. To protect people.”
Moxley held out his hand towards the city. “Well then! There’s your gift. A whole city full of people, ripe for the protecting! Watch them. Keep them safe. Keep all of us safe, if you can.”
“I will,” Gilbert replied.
About the Author
Shamus Young is a programmer specializing in old-school graphics techniques. He's the author of the blog Twenty Sided. He's the creator of the web-comics DM of the Rings and Stolen Pixels. He's one of the hosts of the video-game commentary series Spoiler Warning. He's tired of writing about himself in the third person.
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About the Illustrator
Heather Young has been drawing and painting for as long as she can remember. She has done cover and interior illustration for several books, illustrated the game "Sherwood Showdown", and has done numerous commissioned portraits and watercolor painting.
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Blog: http://untraditionalhoome.com
Thanks
With thanks to Clint Olson, Mari Menix, and C.L. Dyck, who uncovered and compiled my many mistakes so that you won't have to. ~Shamus Young