Spymaster

by Margaret Weis

  “The governor’s sent his carriage for you, my lord,” said Captain Bastian. “What shall I tell the driver?”

  “That he arrived late, much to my annoyance, and I found my own transportation,” said Henry.

  Captain Bastian smiled. “The pinnace is ready when you are, my lord. The crew has orders to deliver you to the north docks.”

  “Thank you, Captain,” said Henry. “I will be back tomorrow. I have passage booked for two, I believe.”

  “Indeed, you do. Good luck, my lord.”

  Henry had never been to the north docks and he noted that they were just as busy as the south, only shabbier and on a smaller scale.

  The ubiquitous Trundlers, who belonged to every nation and none, had established one of their floating villages nearby. A hundred Trundler houseboats, marked by gaily colored balloons and striped sails, were tied at the docks, bobbing up and down in the Breath. Today being market day, crowds of people went from boat to boat to view the Trundlers’ beautiful hand-dyed silk or buy bottles of their famous Calvados.

  Henry thanked the crew of the pinnace and disembarked. A few people glanced at him as he stood on the dock with his trunk and his portmanteau, but no one paid him much attention. He would visit the odious Finchley tomorrow. Tonight he had important business to conduct in private.

  Henry paid a boy to deliver a message to a carriage driver of his acquaintance, then hired a horse cart to drive him and his luggage to a small apartment he kept in a quiet and unassuming boardinghouse.

  Henry rented similar rooms in similar boardinghouses in cities the world over. In each he kept clothes, wigs, and travel documents suitable for whichever identity he happened to be using at the time, as well as pistols, pocket guns, and assorted cutlery, bandages and healing salves to deal with emergencies; in these pieds-a-terre, he also kept a certain amount of currency from all over the world.

  He checked first to make certain no one had been inside his apartment in his absence. Finding that none of the magical traps devised by Mr. Sloan had been disturbed, Henry lay down to rest after the rigors of the journey.

  He woke refreshed from his nap at around eleven of the clock at night and changed into evening clothes—a coat of expensive make and impeccable tailoring, a silk waistcoat, a linen shirt with lace cuffs, silk hose, and expensive leather shoes. He then kept watch out the window until he saw a coach-and-four driving slowly down the street, pausing now and then as though the driver were lost and searching for an address.

  Henry signaled with a candle from his window, and the carriage rolled to a stop. He threw on a greatcoat to conceal his evening wear, which would have looked out of place in this modest neighborhood. He folded up the coat he had worn during the voyage, wrapped it in brown paper, tucked it under his arm, and departed.

  The boardinghouse provided “Lodging for Single Gentlemen,” according to the sign in the window, and it was dark and silent at this time of night. Most of the other single gentlemen had to work the next day and were already in bed. Henry met no one on his way down the stairs.

  He spoke a word to the coachman before entering the carriage. Once he’d shut the door, he rested his back against the leather cushions as the carriage rattled off down the cobblestones. The journey to his destination took about a half hour. The carriage stopped outside the Red Lion Gambling Club.

  Henry did not get out, but waited inside, keeping watch out the window.

  The clock on a nearby church struck two. The door to the Red Lion opened, disgorging several young gentlemen who looked much the worse for drink, weaving arm in arm and singing a bawdy song at the top of their lungs. They paused to hold a discussion about where to go next and decided to move on to another club. One of the young gentlemen declined, saying he had lost money enough for one night. His friends bid him farewell and tottered off, leaving him to stagger down the street by himself, still humming the song.

  When he drew near the carriage, Henry opened the door.

  “Don’t I know you, sir?” Henry called. “Aren’t you Phillip Jones, clerk in the governor’s office?”

  The young gentleman came to a halt and peered at the carriage as though trying to bring it into focus. “You are correct, sir. Though you have the advantage of me. Damned if I know you, sir.”

  “Lord Winston,” said Henry. “Would you like a ride, old chap? You seem rather the worse for wear.”

  “Very kind,” Phillip said and endeavored to find the carriage door.

  The coachman descended from his box and assisted him to enter, pushing him from behind while Henry grasped hold of his coat collar. Once the young man was safely inside, Henry gave the coachman his orders, shut the door, and lowered the curtains to cover the windows. The coachman mounted his box and slapped the reins, and the carriage started off.

  Henry reached out to shake hands.

  “Your Grace, I am pleased to see you again,” he said warmly, then wrinkled his nose. “Despite the fact that you smell like a distillery. Do you bathe in the stuff?”

  Phillip began to laugh. “Actually I dip my cravat in whiskey before going out for the evening. I need to smell the part of poor dissolute Pip as well as act it.”

  He regarded Henry with concern. “I must say I am extremely glad to see you alive and well, my lord. When the Pride of Haever did not arrive on schedule, I feared the worst. Were you attacked by Rosians or pirates?”

  “Pirates disguised as Rosians, Your Grace,” Henry replied with a wry smile. “They knew right where to find me and that I was carrying a ‘chest filled with gold.’ Thus I take it that Finchley walked into our trap.”

  “He didn’t walk, my lord, he jumped in with both feet,” said Phillip. “The day after the governor received word of your plans to travel here, Pip just happened to be cleaning out a closet in his office and managed to overhear a very interesting conversation.”

  “I take it the governor did not know Pip was cleaning the closet?” Henry asked, smiling.

  “I fear Pip forgot to inform him, my lord,” Phillip replied gravely. “Very remiss of the lad. Finchley was talking to a man I had never seen before. The governor called him Greenstreet—”

  “Greenstreet!” Henry repeated, startled.

  “Do you know him, my lord?”

  “In a manner of speaking, Your Grace,” said Henry. “Please continue.”

  “The governor told Greenstreet that you would be sailing on the Pride of Haever and that you would have a large quantity of gold in your possession. Greenstreet paid the governor a handsome sum for the information.”

  “We have got him, Your Grace!” said Henry, clenching his fist, as though he had Finchley in his grasp.

  “‘Dead to rights’ as a pickpocket friend of mine would say, my lord,” said Phillip. “How do you know this Greenstreet?”

  “I know him only by name. Greenstreet didn’t want just the gold. He also wanted me dead. He sent three men to assassinate me.”

  “Assassinate! Good God, my lord!” Phillip exclaimed, shocked. “What happened?”

  “I’ll tell you in a moment, but while we are speaking of the gold…” Henry tossed over the brown paper parcel. “You will find bank notes in the sum of five hundred thousand eagles sewn into the lining of my coat.”

  Phillip opened the parcel to regard the jacket with admiration. “The work of the inimitable Mr. Sloan, I take it, my lord?”

  “That man is a marvel,” said Henry. “I wore the coat the entire voyage and no one was the wiser. If Pip would deliver the funds to the fort’s commander, General Winstead, he will put the money to good use. I noted he has already started the repairs to the fort.”

  Phillip rewrapped the parcel and placed it on the seat beside him.

  “Pip will deliver this to the general this morning,” said Phillip. “What do we do about the Right Honorable, my lord?”

  “It will be my distinct pleasure to deal with the wretch myself, Your Grace,” said Henry in grim tones. “I would like to have him tried as an accompl
ice to attempted murder, but Her Majesty would never agree. Still, after this, she must withdraw her support, no matter how many damn monkeys he sends her. Suffice it to say the Right Honorable will be on the next boat to Haever—a fishing boat, at that. Now, tell me what you know about this Greenstreet.”

  Phillip took a moment to arrange his thoughts. “I once did some research on him. He claims to come from Travia. He arrived in the Aligoes about ten years ago, making his home in the small town of Freeport. Rumor has it that he is behind most of the criminal enterprises in the Aligoes and other parts of the world. He has ties to the gangs in Westfirth, for instance. He smuggles arms, funds pirates, operates a number of houses of ill fame, opium dens, and crooked gambling clubs. Greenstreet has never been accused of murder, but people who cross him do have a nasty habit of turning up dead.”

  “I was almost one of those, Your Grace,” said Henry. He went on to relate his adventures aboard the Pride of Haever, and concluded by adding, “This Greenstreet is good. I was caught unawares, Phillip. Taken completely by surprise. I was fortunate that the captain of the pirates Greenstreet hired was accompanying me at the time. She is a remarkable woman. Her name is Captain Kate. She knew Alan from his days with the Rose Hawks.”

  “Kate?” Phillip said, smiling. “She and Pip are old friends. She questioned me about the gold last week, come to think of it. I wondered how she had heard about it. I should have guessed she would have ties to Greenstreet. I tried to steer her clear. I told her the truth—that there was no gold. Obviously she didn’t believe me.”

  “I owe my life to Captain Kate, Your Grace,” said Henry. “How did you two meet?”

  “Whenever the Rose Hawks sailed to Freeport, we visited a tavern run by her friend—the Perky Parrot. Kate had inherited her father’s ship and she wanted to join the Rose Hawks. But she was only seventeen at the time and a bit too wild and impulsive for the dangerous work we were doing. Kate tried her hand at smuggling, but that didn’t end well. She now makes her living as a wrecker when she’s not pretending to be a Rosian privateer. You must do something to reward her, my lord.”

  “I have already made her an offer. Since Alan has his commission in the Royal Navy, I am in need of privateers of my own. I was quite impressed with the young woman’s quick thinking and courage, not to mention her ingenious idea of teaming with a dragon. Captain Bastian was forced to surrender without a shot fired.”

  “I can well imagine,” said Phillip, chuckling.

  “In addition, the exploits of Captain Kate are the talk of Freya. Have you read the newspaper accounts of her adventures, Your Grace?”

  “I haven’t seen a Freyan newspaper in months, my lord,” said Phillip. “The last mail packet was captured by pirates and the one before that sank in a wizard storm.”

  “That is why I began sending my messages to you by courier,” said Henry. “Suffice it to say, Captain Kate is much admired, especially among the women. I fear my own lady wife has secret plans to run away to join Captain Kate and her pirate crew.”

  Phillip laughed. “Thus by hiring Captain Kate, you garner favorable publicity.”

  “For a change,” said Henry with a bitter smile. “The news of late has all been bad and will only grow worse.”

  He was silent a moment, brooding, then shook himself out of his dark reflections. “Can I trust Kate? Her father was by all accounts a rascal and a rogue. Kate herself was quite eager to lay her hands on that gold. I shudder to think what might have happened to me if she had discovered I was carrying a fortune in the lining of my coat. You said she was reckless and wild when she was young. What is your opinion of her now?”

  Phillip gave the matter serious thought. “Kate is fiercely loyal to those she considers friends, but she is also extremely ambitious and, as you say, eager to make money. Does she know you are friends with Captain Northrop?”

  “Yes, we talked about Alan a good a deal,” said Henry. “I think she fancies herself in love with him. I am afraid I led her to believe he remembered her with affection. The truth is that when I asked him about her, he hardly remembered her at all.”

  “Kate is but one more lovely woman to throw herself at Alan’s feet so that he can trample on her heart,” said Phillip, adding with an exaggerated sigh, “She never looked twice at poor Pip.”

  “Perhaps if Kate knew Pip was not a lowly clerk, but the immensely wealthy Duke of Upper and Lower Milton she would have looked upon him more fondly,” Henry returned, smiling.

  “I’m not so sure,” said Phillip. “Kate has an odd code of honor, much like her father’s. From the stories I’ve heard about him, Morgan would cheerfully swindle you out of every last penny, but he would have been horrified at the thought of robbing you at gunpoint. Kate would steal my money, but not my heart, if you take my meaning, my lord.”

  “Just as she was prepared to take my money, but could not bear to see me shot down in cold blood,” Henry said thoughtfully.

  “Speaking of money, may I make a suggestion…”

  “I should be glad to hear your thoughts, Your Grace,” said Henry.

  “Kate values money for one reason—she dreams of buying back the family estate known as Barwich Manor. If I were you, my lord, I would obtain the deed to this estate. Offer half the deed to Kate now, with the other half to be given to her upon successful completion of her service to Freya.”

  “An excellent idea, Your Grace,” said Henry. “I will have Mr. Sloan make the arrangements.”

  “So what are you going to do about Greenstreet, my lord?” Phillip asked. “I assume you will be interested in finding out why he tried to have you killed.”

  “I have given Kate the assignment,” said Henry.

  “I hope she understands the danger,” Phillip said. “I would not want to see any harm befall her.”

  “We developed a plan together, Your Grace,” said Henry.

  “So long as she follows it,” said Phillip, sounding doubtful.

  “I find this Greenstreet business very odd, Your Grace,” Henry said. “As far as I know, I am no threat to him or his business dealings. I have never had any involvement with the man before now.”

  “Were you able to question the assassins, my lord?”

  “Sadly, no, Your Grace. I had to kill them,” said Henry. “I couldn’t risk letting them talk. I had no idea what they might say.”

  “I could ask around, my lord,” Phillip offered. “That is, Pip could ask around.”

  “Thank you, Your Grace, but Pip is about to receive a stern letter from his father. Having been informed of his son’s gambling debts, Pip’s father is ordering him to come home.”

  “Ah, dear, that’s too bad,” said Phillip. “I’ve become quite fond of Pip—other than the fact that his clothes reek of whiskey and he is a dreadful card player. I shall be sorry to see him go.”

  “Yet go he must, Your Grace,” said Henry gravely. “I have another assignment for you, if you are interested. You will have to travel to Estara.”

  “Gladly!” said Phillip. “Anywhere except my drafty old castle in Upper Milton where I would be bored out of my skull and slowly dying of mold and mildew.”

  “I have been your guest at the castle in Upper Milton, Your Grace,” said Henry. “I never felt the hint of a draft and I should think a staff of some two hundred servants would be able to keep it free of mold and mildew.”

  “If you say so, my lord,” said Phillip. “To me living there is like living in some elegantly furnished mausoleum. So what becomes of poor Pip?”

  “He will disappear into ignominy. Once Pip has vanished, Phillip Edward James Masterson, fourteenth Duke of Upper and Lower Milton, will travel to Estara in order to advance a noble cause.”

  “I am intrigued, my lord,” said Phillip. “What is this noble cause?”

  “You will be supporting the cause of Thomas Stanford, descendant of James the First, known to many as ‘Prince Tom,’” Henry replied. “His Highness needs a friend—a gallant young Freyan noble
man ready to pledge his life and his fortune to the true and rightful king of Freya.”

  “In other words, I am to spy on him,” said Phillip. “So you perceive this young man to be a true threat, my lord?”

  “I do, indeed, Your Grace,” said Henry. “And I want you to give the assignment serious thought before you accept. We will not publicize it, but word will leak out, of course. Some in Freya will view you as a hero for joining with Prince Tom. Others will consider you a traitor. Her Majesty will be forced to denounce you in the strongest terms. And if the Estarans discover you are a spy, they will most certainly hang you.”

  “Does Her Majesty know the truth, my lord?”

  “She does, Your Grace,” said Henry. “She asked me to convey her gratitude and warm regard. She will do what she can to protect you. Unfortunately we can do nothing to help you once you reach Estara.”

  Phillip shrugged off his warning. “By God, Sir Henry, after spending these past months sitting on a stool, I feared my brain as well as my posterior were both going numb. An adventure such as you propose is a godsend!”

  “I was hoping you would think so, Your Grace,” said Henry. “You are admirably suited for the assignment.”

  “And what exactly is the nature of this assignment, my lord?”

  “You will my eyes and ears, Your Grace,” said Henry. “The prince’s mother has supporters in Freya who are raising funds and providing her with sensitive information. I believe that some of these people are in positions of power. They call themselves ‘the Faithful’ and I fear they are plotting the violent overthrow of our government. My agents have been unable to find out who they are, however. Constanza is devilishly clever.”

  “Violent overthrow!” Phillip repeated, shocked. “I had no idea! Is Her Majesty in danger?”

  “I have reason to think so, Your Grace,” Henry replied gravely. “I would otherwise not ask you to risk your life.”

  Phillip extended his hand. “I am your man, my lord.”

  “Excellent, Your Grace,” said Henry, shaking hands.

  “How will you convince the prince to trust me, my lord?”