Spymaster

by Margaret Weis

  “Of course not!” said Kate, squirming. “I had a perfectly good plan and you ruined it!”

  “On the contrary, I had a perfectly good plan and you ruined it,” he said.

  Kate craned her neck, trying again to see what had become of the ferry, but when she looked down all she could see were laughing blue eyes, partially obscured by black curls, firm lips, and high cheekbones marred by a scar. She had really never hated anyone so much in her life and she wished he weren’t so close.

  Dalgren was flying toward the Braffan mainland, traveling slowly in an attempt to keep the ladder with the two of them clinging to it from swinging. He kept casting worried glances at them over his shoulder. Phillip, seated in the saddle, was gripping the ladder with both hands.

  “Are you all right?” he shouted down anxiously.

  “Never better!” Thomas called.

  He moved up another rung. Holding on to the ladder with one hand, he slid his other arm around Kate and drew her close, his body pressing against hers.

  “What … what are you doing?” Kate gasped.

  “What you told us to do,” Thomas replied, smiling into her eyes. “Holding on tight.”

  THIRTY

  Dalgren carried his three passengers safely to the southern part of the island of Braffa and set them down on a stretch of rocky, barren shoreline.

  Kate was glad for the flight to end. She didn’t know how much longer she would have been able to hang on to the ladder. Her arms ached from the strain. When the ladder was close to the ground, Thomas jumped down and then assisted Kate, putting his hands around her waist and easing her gently down.

  He should have let go of her, but he didn’t. He brushed back her windblown curls.

  “Who are you, Kate?” he asked with a kind of wonder in his voice.

  Kate struck him in the chest, pushing him away. “Back off!”

  She called up to Phillip, who was still in the saddle. “You can come down, Pip!” she called.

  “Easy for you to say,” Phillip called back, making no move to leave the dragon’s back.

  Dalgren circled overhead, patiently waiting for his passenger to descend.

  “Tell me your last name, Kate,” said Thomas.

  “Tell me yours,” she countered, still watching Phillip.

  Thomas shook his head. “No one must know I was involved.”

  “For someone dressed like a toff, are you so notorious?” Kate asked, scoffing.

  “In a manner of speaking,” said Thomas.

  Now Kate was curious. She said teasingly, “Come, tell me. What does it matter? We are never going to see each other again.”

  Thomas paused, then said in somber tones, “You are right. I don’t suppose we ever will.”

  They were interrupted by a gasping cry from Phillip. Dalgren had apparently grown weary of waiting for his passenger to climb out of the saddle. Circling out over the Breath, the dragon was now gliding back in toward the shore, preparing to land. Phillip ducked down in the saddle and held on for dear life.

  Dalgren landed smoothly, coming down first on his powerful hind legs, rocking forward onto his front legs, and slightly crouching to soften the shock of the landing for his rider. Still, landing while on dragonback was jarring and unnerving, even for veterans, as Kate could attest. She and Thomas hurried over to the dragon’s side. Phillip was gripping the saddle with both hands, his eyes tightly closed.

  “You can come down now,” Kate called. “Unless you have decided to join the Dragon Brigade.”

  Phillip opened his eyes. Seeing that the dragon was sitting safely on the ground, he gave an enormous sigh.

  “How the devil do I get off this beast?”

  “Climb out of the saddle and drop down onto Dalgren’s foreleg. From there, you can slide down to the ground.”

  Phillip managed to escape the saddle, but then lost his grip and fell the rest of the way, tumbling to the ground.

  “Are you all right?” Thomas asked, helping Phillip to his feet.

  “Never better,” said Phillip, dusting off his clothes. “I think I would have enjoyed the flight if I hadn’t been so bloody terrified.”

  “Dalgren gave an irate grunt. “May I remind you, Kate, that I have not eaten since early morning. I am hungry and tired and you and I still need to find a place to spend the night.”

  Dalgren emphasized the message with a slap of his tail on the ground.

  “I’m coming!” Kate told him. She turned back to Phillip and Thomas. “Speaking of a place to spend the night, there’s a village not far from here on the banks of a river. You can likely catch a ride on a barge to Port Vrijheid and from there find a ship to take you home.”

  Dalgren made a rumbling sound.

  “I have to go,” Kate said. “I guess this is good-bye.…”

  She was in a good mood. Her plan had not worked out as she had intended, but it had worked out, no thanks to these two. Phillip looked shaky; he was still recovering from his ride. Thomas was smiling at her with what Kate took to be smug triumph.

  A few crystals in his pockets and he thinks he beat me, Kate thought resentfully. I can’t tell him the truth. But I can wipe that smile off his face.

  Kate sprang forward and kissed Thomas on the mouth.

  “Just letting you know that I won and you lost,” she said.

  She meant to be cheeky, impudent. She hoped to see him amazed, baffled. She didn’t intend for him to try to take her in his arms and kiss her …

  “Sir Henry sent you, didn’t he, Kate?” said Phillip.

  Startled, both Kate and Thomas turned to stare.

  “Deliver a message to Sir Henry from me,” Phillip continued, talking rapidly in a low voice. “Tell him I quit. Tell him I was wrong to accept this assignment.” Pausing a moment, he added, his voice grating, “And tell Henry he was wrong to ask me to undertake it.”

  “Pip, I don’t understand…” Kate began, bewildered.

  “I know you don’t,” said Phillip with a faint, sad smile. “Sir Henry won’t either. Good-bye, Kate, and good luck. And Kate…” He paused, gazing at her intently. “Be careful.”

  He kissed her on the cheek. Kate continued to stare at him; then she heard Dalgren snarl in irritation and knew she had to leave. She hurriedly climbed onto the dragon’s leg, then pulled herself into the saddle. She wondered about Phillip’s strange message and, annoyingly, she could still feel the warmth of that kiss on her lips.

  “I marked the location of the wreck,” Dalgren said.

  “What? Oh, yes. Thank you.” Kate looked at Thomas, who was still looking at her.

  “That was a damn fool stunt!” Dalgren continued. “You could have been killed.”

  “It worked, didn’t it?” Kate said. She rummaged about in the saddle pouches and pulled out a sack that held her pistol cartridges. After emptying it out, she tossed it down to Thomas.

  “You’ll need that,” Kate shouted. “Unless you want to walk around with your pockets filled with rocks.”

  Thomas grinned and picked up the sack. He waved at her. She waved back. Dalgren grunted. Kate began strapping herself into the saddle.

  “Did you note the condition of the ferry?”

  “It crashed into the tops of some trees and broke apart, probably dumping cargo all over the ground. Don’t worry,” Dalgren added. “No one will find it unless they fly over it, which isn’t likely to happen in this godforsaken part of the world.”

  The dragon shrugged to ease the kinks out of his shoulders and flexed his wings. “Should be an easy salvage.”

  “For you,” Kate retorted, laughing. “I’ll be crawling around in the muck all day tomorrow picking up rocks.”

  Dalgren shook himself in readiness to fly.

  “We should leave,” he said, peering around at her. “The sun will set in an hour.”

  “I’m ready,” said Kate.

  She put on the dragon helm, lowered the visor, and gave Dalgren the signal, patting him on the neck. Dalgren leaped into
the air. Spreading his wings, he sailed out into the Breath.

  Kate twisted in the saddle to look back at Thomas.

  “I wonder who he is…” she murmured.

  * * *

  “Who is she, Pip?” Thomas asked. He had been standing in rapt silence, holding the sack, watching the dragon until it vanished over the trees. “I have never met anyone like her!”

  “That is because pirates are not generally invited to royal balls,” said Phillip.

  He spoke absently, hardly knowing what he was saying, his thoughts on the heinous task before him.

  “You are telling me she is a pirate?” Thomas laughed. Shaking out the sack, he started removing the crystals from his pockets and dropping them inside. “Come now, you are jesting. And what was all that about Sir Henry Wallace?”

  “She was a pirate, Your Highness,” Phillip amended. “Kate is now a Freyan privateer. She works for Sir Henry Wallace.”

  “‘Your Highness’? Are we so formal now?” Thomas asked.

  Phillip was somber and Thomas realized that something was amiss. He emptied his pockets, tied a knot in the sack, and slung it over his shoulder. “We should start walking. The sun will set soon. Wallace is the queen’s spymaster. You say Kate works for him?”

  Phillip did not budge. “She does. And I work for him, as well.”

  “I don’t understand,” said Thomas, stopping. He looked at Phillip, puzzled.

  “A man like you could never understand,” said Phillip. He kept his head down, did not look at his friend. “I am a spy, plain and simple. I was hired by Sir Henry Wallace to travel to Estara, ingratiate myself with you, make you learn to trust me—all so that I could betray you.”

  He drew the pistols he had concealed beneath his jacket and held them out to Thomas. “I’m your prisoner. Take these. I surrender myself to you.”

  Thomas made no move to take the pistols. He seemed lost in amazement. He let the sack fall to the ground. “I don’t believe you.”

  “I am not surprised,” said Phillip, shrugging. “I am very good at living a lie. But I am now telling you the truth. Take the pistols.”

  Thomas was still staring at him. Phillip couldn’t bear to see the pain on his face and, worse, the disgust. Turning from him, he hurled the pistols, one by one, into the Breath. The thought came to him that he could throw himself after them and it would be no great loss. Perhaps Thomas divined his thought, for he caught hold of Phillip and dragged him back from the edge.

  Keeping a firm grip on him, Thomas marched Phillip inland, far away from the Breath. Phillip stumbled, his head bowed, his vision blurred. At last Thomas halted and, gripping Phillip, forced him to turn to face him.

  “Did you?” Thomas asked harshly. “Betray me?”

  “Yes, Your Highness,” Phillip answered, his voice steady. “I have been passing on information about you ever since I arrived in Estara.”

  A thought came to him and he raised his head to look Thomas in the eye. “But I did not give Sir Henry the information about the crystals. By then, you see, I had made up my mind to tell you the truth. I don’t know how he found out about them and sent Kate to steal them. He didn’t through me.”

  Thomas was silent, gazing intently at Phillip, but not seeming to see him. Perhaps he was looking back, trying to recall what he had said, what secrets he had revealed to a man he had thought was a friend.

  “How can I believe you?” he asked at last.

  “You can’t,” said Phillip. “And so you must take me back to Estara and hand me over to the authorities. Tell them you discovered the truth, that I am a Freyan spy.”

  “They will hang you!” Thomas said angrily.

  “Undoubtedly,” said Phillip. He was suddenly exhausted and he sank down onto a log and lowered his head into his hands.

  Thomas walked off and began pacing back and forth. Phillip awaited the verdict. He had no doubt what it would be. Thomas came back to stand in front of him.

  “Run,” he said, pointing to the forest. “I won’t stop you. I won’t chase after you.”

  Phillip gave a faint smile. “Of course you would think me coward enough to flee. I have given you no reason to think otherwise. I will not run. If you do not take me back to Estara, I will go myself and turn myself in.”

  Thomas glared at him, then walked back and forth a few more times, then rounded on him.

  “The Freyans shot you!”

  “Staged,” said Phillip. “I was in no true danger. My friend Captain Northrop brought along a marine sharpshooter.”

  Thomas stared at him, aghast. The sun dipped into the Breath, filling the sky with flame.

  “Damn you! Why did you have to tell me?” Thomas cried in anguish. “You could have gone back to Freya, left me in ignorance.” He clenched his fist. “I wish to God you had!”

  Phillip had known he would cause pain; he had not known how much. If he had, he might well have run.

  “I had to warn you, Tom,” he said. “You need to know that you have enemies, people like Sir Henry, who will stop at nothing to keep you from the throne.” He gave a faint smile. “You are far too trusting. You should be more careful.”

  Thomas stood over him, his arms folded across his chest.

  “I’ve heard about this Wallace. He is said to be ruthless. You don’t just tell a man like that you quit! He will send his agents to hunt you down!”

  Phillip shrugged. “Most likely. He will be furious. I have worked for Sir Henry for many years, ever since the war. I was one of the Rose Hawks, serving in the Aligoes under Captain Alan Northrop. He and Sir Henry are friends. And Sir Henry knew my father, the late duke.”

  “So that was the truth?” Thomas was astonished. “You really are a duke?”

  “Of Upper and Lower Milton,” said Phillip. “I couldn’t lie about my identity. I know people in the Estaran court who would have recognized me. And, as it was, my title and wealth served as part of the plot to deceive you.”

  “I can’t even look at you!” Thomas exclaimed. He turned and walked away, then suddenly turned and walked back. “How does a man like you, courageous and seemingly honorable, a gentleman of noble birth, become involved in a profession that is so … so … sordid and degrading?”

  “I have often wondered,” said Phillip. “I think it is the lure of danger, the excitement: the thrill of taking risks. I grew to crave that as some men crave strong drink.”

  He paused, then added in thoughtful tones, “To my credit, I did stop some very bad people from doing some extremely bad things.”

  “And you believed I was one of those very bad people,” said Thomas caustically. “What changed your opinion?”

  Phillip shook his head. “None of this matters—”

  “It matters to me!” Thomas said, his jaw clenched. “And I am the one most concerned.”

  Phillip sighed. “I first started having doubts about Sir Henry’s portrayal of you when I read the research undertaken by the crown prince. Jonathan was a friend of mine, as I told you, and I had access to his papers. He proved conclusively that you do indeed have a legitimate claim to the Freyan throne. Still, I withheld my judgment. A man may be born to rule, but that doesn’t mean he is fit to rule. The late King Godfrey was, by all accounts, a ruthless, conniving despot. And then I met you. I found you to be noble, honorable, courageous—”

  Thomas made an impatient gesture.

  “—heedless, reckless, impulsive, and far too trusting,” Phillip continued. “The upshot is, I came to believe in you and in your cause. I realized that by betraying you, I was actually betraying my country, not serving her.”

  Thomas stood frowning at Phillip for long moments in silence. What he next asked was unexpected. “In your bleak appraisal of me, would you concede that I am a good judge of character?”

  “Don’t do this, Thomas,” said Phillip, sighing. “You don’t know me. I am expert at deceiving people.”

  “Am I a good judge of character?” Thomas insisted.

  Ph
illip said nothing.

  “Stand up, Your Grace,” said Thomas. “Look me in the eye.”

  Phillip did as he was told. He stood unflinching, facing Thomas, regarding him steadfastly. The worst was over. He could accept his fate with equanimity.

  “Answer me this question,” said Thomas. “You may have deceived others. Did you deceive me?”

  “Yes, I told you—” Phillip began.

  “No, no, I don’t mean passing along information on how many troops I have or what I ate for breakfast,” Thomas said impatiently. “I mean our talks about how we are going to change the world, about my hopes and ideas, my dreams and plans. You led me to believe you share my ideals. Did you deceive me then?”

  “I spoke honestly, from my heart,” said Phillip. “But that is not to my credit, Your Highness. Part of the art of deceit is to know when to be honest.”

  “Damn it, you seem bound and determined to make me hate you!” Thomas said, glowering.

  “Don’t you?” Phillip asked.

  “Part of me does,” said Thomas. “Part of me wants to shoot you where you stand! The other part of me wonders why in God’s name you had to send that message to Wallace and put yourself in danger!”

  “Perhaps I was trying to prove to myself I still had some smattering of honor,” Phillip replied, sighing. “If so, it failed. I would understand if you shot me.”

  “I am not going to shoot you,” Thomas muttered.

  Phillip understood. “Then I am to be hanged…”

  “And stop talking about hanging!” Thomas shouted. He grew quiet, seething, then added in calmer tones, “The truth is I have come to depend on you, Pip. We work well together, as this ill-fated adventure has proven. I need someone like you on my side, someone who understands me. Someone I can trust.”

  “You realize how ridiculous that sounds,” said Phillip drily.

  “The fact that you came to me, that you told me the truth, counts for much,” said Thomas.

  “I cannot forgive myself, Your Highness,” said Phillip. “I don’t know how you can forgive me.”

  “Oh, I don’t,” Thomas returned, brooding. “Not yet. In the meantime, we will go on as before, act as though nothing has happened. No one can know I was involved in this raid. If you go running to the authorities to confess your sins, all will be known, and God knows where that could lead!”