Spymaster

by Margaret Weis

  Trubgek gave a slight nod of agreement. “Anything else?”

  “You know what to do,” said Coreg.

  Trubgek thought this over and apparently determined he did know what to do, for he left. As Coreg settled down for a nap, he reflected on how pleasant it was that he could hand over responsibility for this job to Trubgek and be confident that he would complete it without fuss or bother.

  “A pity about humans and their short life spans,” Coreg muttered to himself before drifting off to sleep. “I am going to miss this Trubgek when he is gone.”

  THIRTY-FOUR

  When Thomas had heard from his mother that he was to travel to Rosia to meet his future wife, he had insisted that Phillip accompany him. Phillip had not wanted to go, and tried to make excuses to stay behind. Relations between the two continued to be strained. If they were thrown together among their friends, both acted as if all was well. Thomas would laugh and jest, but there was no mirth in his eyes. Sometimes there was anger, more often unhappiness and disappointment.

  “Let me leave,” Phillip had said time and again. “I won’t return to Freya. I’ll go back to the Aligoes.”

  “You can’t go,” Thomas had always replied. “People would start to ask questions.”

  Phillip was forced to admit Thomas was right. But that did not mean he had to accompany the prince to Rosia.

  He had no choice in the matter, however. Constanza wrote to Thomas that the Countess de Marjolaine had extended “a most gracious personal invitation” to the duke, adding that Phillip could not very well refuse without committing “a serious breach of etiquette,” perhaps even causing an international incident. The two were to attend a ball in the royal palace and from there they were going to be guests on board a Rosian naval vessel traveling with what was known as the Rum Fleet, a name given to ships because they patrolled the Aligoes. The Rosians were intending to rid the islands of pirates and when Thomas had expressed an interest in observing the navy in action, the admiral had invited the prince to join them.

  Phillip gave in, and they traveled together to the capital city of Rosia, Evreux. Thomas had planned to fly by griffin, but when Constanza had found out his plans she was furious, writing, “Do you intend to arrive at the palace travel-stained and windblown? They will take you for a tinker and send you to the servants’ entrance.”

  She sent her own elegant and massive two-masted yacht, adorned with the family coat of arms, to carry them to Rosia in style.

  Phillip had dreaded the journey, knowing he and Thomas would be alone on the yacht—at least, as alone as a crew of six would allow. The journey would take five days, during which time he and Thomas would be forced into each other’s company. His only consolation was that he had his own stateroom, into which he could escape at night. During the day, however, they had only each other.

  And as it turned out, in a certain way, they had Kate.

  Thomas was infatuated with her. When Phillip mentioned that she was featured in newspaper stories, Thomas hunted down all the old copies of the Haever Gazette he could find and read them over and over.

  “You realize these tales are about as true as the tales your mother writes about you,” Phillip pointed out.

  Thomas only smiled and kept reading.

  All he could talk about or think about during the five-day trip to Rosia was Kate. That was a blessing, for she proved to be the balm that began to heal the near-fatal wounds their friendship had suffered.

  The first day into the journey, the two young men were standing at the rail, gazing into the orange mists of the Breath and talking about Kate.

  “Tell me everything you know about her, Pip,” Thomas said. “You two met when you were in the Aligoes. Where does she come from? I want to hear the smallest detail.”

  “Her name is Katherine Gascoyne-Fitzmaurice. She is the granddaughter of a viscount—”

  “A viscount!” Thomas said, impressed. “Then what the author says is true. She is of gentle birth.”

  “—a viscount who shot himself after squandering the family fortune,” Phillip continued relentlessly. “Her father was also a gentleman—a gentleman smuggler, swindler, rogue, and thief who died of a cracked skull in a back alley in Westfirth. Kate was raised on board his ship and—”

  “—and she is like no other woman I ever met,” said Thomas. “You will not diminish her luster in my eyes. The author of these stories describes her: ‘bold, courageous and daring with a fatal beauty.’ That is how I see her.”

  “Come now, you cannot call Kate beautiful,” Phillip argued.

  “Perhaps not, but we saw her at a disadvantage,” Thomas said.

  “True,” said Phillip wryly. “Bullets flying about her head would tend to steal ‘the bloom of roses from her damask cheek.’”

  Thomas laughed, then said more seriously, “I have spent my life in the company of earls’ daughters and dukes’ sisters, and Princess This and Lady That. They are all alike. Well bred, well behaved, well dressed, and dull as mushy peas. Kate has spirit and fire and courage…”

  “‘Kate is a pirate, Mother,’” Phillip said, mimicking Thomas. “‘I am certain you will love her.’”

  Thomas grinned. “All right, that conversation might be difficult.”

  “Difficult!” Phillip shook his head. “The word is ‘impossible.’ Besides, you know you are not serious about Kate.”

  “Do I know that?” Thomas asked. Leaning his elbow on the rail, he turned to face his friend. “Because I seem to think I am very serious.”

  “You may think you are, but you are not,” said Phillip. “A month ago you were infatuated with some countess or other. You are like a jackdaw attracted to a shiny object.”

  “You compare me to a crow. Thank you very much,” said Thomas.

  “Maybe not a crow,” Phillip said. “More like a man trying to break out of prison.”

  He had meant his barb to be funny, but it struck too near the mark. Thomas actually winced and turned away.

  He was silent for a long time, then said in an altered voice, “I can dream, can’t I, Pip?”

  “Of what?” Phillip asked. “Of being a pirate?”

  “Of being anything except a king,” said Thomas.

  “Strange, most people dream the exact opposite,” Phillip remarked.

  “That is because most people do not know that being king means you are isolated, alone, surrounded by those you dare not—”

  “You dare not trust,” said Phillip, finishing his sentence. “Such as myself.”

  Thomas pressed his lips together and gazed out into the Breath. “Look there. The southern coast of Rosia is coming into view.”

  “The devil take the southern coast of Rosia! Say what you mean, damn it!” Phillip said angrily. “You do not trust me—”

  “On the contrary,” said Thomas. “I have been giving the matter a great deal of thought. It seems to me you are the one person I can trust.”

  Phillip shook his head. “You have completely lost your mind.”

  “You told me the truth, Pip, and that for me is a rarity,” said Thomas. “No one ever tells me the truth. My mother and father tell me what they want me to hear. Captain Smythe and Hugh and my friends and all the rest flatter me and tell me what they think I want to hear.”

  “I tell you I’m a traitor and you find that surprisingly refreshing,” said Phillip.

  Thomas smiled. “Oddly enough, Pip, I find I do.”

  Phillip did not return the smile. The matter was not one for levity. He looked fixedly at his friend. “If you can tell me honestly that you once more place your trust in me, Tom, I will be your friend. I will stand with you against all the world, if need be.”

  “I trust you, Pip. And here is my hand to prove it. We will shake on it,” said Thomas, holding out his hand. “And never mention this again.”

  The two solemnly shook hands.

  “Your friendship will undergo its first test in the Sunset Palace,” Thomas added. “I am walking onto
the field of battle and I would like to emerge unscathed, my honor intact, and no wedding band upon my finger.”

  “I will be your loyal knight, Your Highness,” said Phillip. “Although I fear all I can do will be to administer the coup de grâce and put you out of your misery. Your mother, the princess, and the countess are lined up against you. You are outnumbered and doomed to go down in defeat.”

  “I am afraid you are right,” said Thomas with a helpless shrug. “But, as I said, I can dream. Tell me more about Kate.”

  * * *

  The yacht carrying Thomas and Phillip made a grand arrival at the famous Sunset Palace. No one mistook them for traveling tinkers, although Thomas did tell the footman handling the luggage that he could sell him a washtub.

  “A bit dented from the journey, but ideal for soaking your feet,” said Thomas.

  The shocked servant pretended not to hear, and Phillip smothered his laughter in his coat collar.

  The personal secretary of the Countess de Marjolaine, a man named D’argent, was there to greet them, saying he would escort them to their rooms, knowing that both of them must want to rest and refresh themselves after the rigors of the journey.

  “The countess regrets that she is detained by matters of state, Your Highness. She looks forward to meeting you tonight at the royal ball,” D’argent added, guiding them through the palace halls.

  “I look forward to renewing our acquaintence with pleasure,” Thomas said. “I trust Her Ladyship is well?”

  While the two continued to exchange polite nothings, Phillip gazed about the palace with interest. He had never before been in the Sunset Palace, although he had heard all his life about the splendors of the magnificent building. His father had been invited to attend the Rosian court, but he had hated the Rosians and refused to set foot in their country. Later, as one of the Rose Hawks, Phillip had taken part in the capture or sinking of many Rosian ships and he wondered with amusement what the Rosians would say if they knew the elegant Duke of Upper and Lower Milton now walking their halls was a notorious pirate they had attempted to either capture or kill.

  D’argent, as though reading his thoughts, turned to politely include Phillip in the conversation. “I believe this is your first time to visit the palace, Your Grace.”

  “Indeed it is, sir,” Phillip answered. “I am overwhelmed by the beauty.”

  “You should have seen it when it floated among the clouds and caught the rays of the setting sun,” said Thomas. “I was nine years old when my mother first brought me to the palace. I was in awe. I could talk of nothing else for days. A wondrous sight.”

  “It was, Your Highness,” said D’argent. “As I recall, you insisted that we take you down to the lower level to observe the lift tanks.”

  “By God, you’re right, D’argent!” Thomas exclaimed. “I had forgotten that. You should have seen them, Phillip. Sixteen enormous lift tanks filled with the Breath of God! The Bottom Dwellers ended all that with their foul magicks.”

  Phillip had heard about the near disaster. The contramagic of the Bottom Dwellers had eaten away at the magical constructs on the lift tanks, causing them to fail. The palace had begun to sink to the ground; it came perilously close to crashing into the lake below.

  “Does His Majesty have plans for raising the palace again?” Thomas asked.

  “He does not, Your Highness,” said D’argent. His eyes had darkened, his lips compressed, at the mention of the sinking. “His Majesty believes that a king should live among his people, not exist in some exalted state above them.”

  “I believe that myself, sir,” said Thomas, struck by the remark. “I look forward to meeting His Majesty.”

  “I did not realize the two of you had not met, Your Highness,” D’argent said, surprised.

  “He was always away doing his duty as admiral of the fleet,” said Thomas.

  “He will be attending the ball tonight, Your Highness,” said D’argent, adding with a slight smile, “You should arrive early if you want to meet him. His Majesty will make every effort to escape as soon as possible.”

  “A man after my own heart,” said Thomas.

  * * *

  D’argent took Thomas and Phillip to their respective chambers. With some four hundred rooms, the palace housed at various times upward of several hundred people, including members of the royal family, guests of the royal family, members of the nobility, guests of the nobility, and their servants and staff.

  Phillip and Thomas each had a room. Once there, the two dressed for the ball, Thomas doing so with the assistance of servants supplied by the countess.

  Phillip was wearing a full-cut blue silk coat with a waistcoat embroidered in an elaborate pattern of vines and flowers. His shirt was adorned with lace cuffs. He wore a lacy cravat, blue breeches, and white silk stockings. He dressed swiftly, without assistance, and went to Thomas’s room, down the hall from his own.

  Thomas wore a red silk coat with dark red panels decorated with embroidery and gold thread, an embroidered waistcoat that matched the panels, lace at the cuffs and on his cravat. He glanced at himself in the mirror without interest, dismissed the servant, and then turned to Phillip.

  “Make ready, bold knight!” Thomas announced with a flourish. “Prepare to enter the affray!”

  “I suggest you offer terms of surrender now while you still can,” Phillip said. “Matters will go ill for you if you are taken prisoner.”

  “So what is our strategy for tonight?” Thomas asked.

  “I will go in first with sword and pistol. Your Highness will follow with pike and ax,” said Phillip. “Since our foe will be armed with feather fans and champagne, I have no doubt we shall rout them.”

  “I am serious,” Thomas said. “I will, of course, be obliged to dance with Her Highness. I cannot escape that onerous task. But if she attempts to lure me out to the garden for a stroll in the moonlight, you must come to my rescue.”

  “And how am I to do that?” Phillip asked.

  “I don’t know,” said Thomas. “Say that you want me to meet a long-lost friend.”

  “Since I know absolutely no one in this country, that could prove difficult,” Phillip replied. “I will do my best, however.”

  “I suppose we should go,” said Thomas. He drew on his gloves. “I wonder what Kate would look like in a ball gown…”

  “Like a pirate in a ball gown,” said Phillip.

  THIRTY-FIVE

  The grand ballroom of the Sunset Palace glittered with jewels and laughter. Chandeliers adorned with myriad crystal prisms shone with magical light and sent rainbows dancing about the room. The fragrance of massive bouquets vied with the ladies’ perfume. A hubbub of voices rose to meet them as they waited their turn to be announced on a balcony overlooking the ball. As the herald called out their names and titles, they were to descend a staircase specifically designed to afford the assembled guests time to inspect and criticize the new arrivals.

  When Thomas was announced as the Crown Prince of Freya, the din subsided. The gentlemen regarded him with frank curiosity while the ladies whispered about him behind their fans. Conversation resumed when Phillip was announced. No one cared about the Duke of Upper and Lower Milton except to smile at the odd-sounding Freyan name.

  The dancing had not yet started. A quartet consisting of two violins, a violoncello, and a viola was still setting up, placing their music on the stands and tuning their instruments. At the far end of the ballroom, banquet tables, covered with white cloths and adorned with flowers, were laden with every type of delicacy imaginable.

  The Countess de Marjolaine was waiting for them at the bottom of the stairs. Phillip had heard a great deal about the countess from Sir Henry Wallace. She was his counterpart in the Rosian court. The head of intelligence, she controlled a vast network of spies and agents. Sir Henry spoke of the Countess de Marjolaine with the respect one accords to a noble adversary; Phillip looked forward to meeting her.

  He had heard the countess’s beaut
y praised, and he was not disappointed. She was in her middle years and scorned to conceal her age beneath rouge and powder. The fine lines around her eyes seemed only to accentuate their luster and intensity. Her abundant hair, now white, was carefully coiffed. She wore a dress of lavender silk moiré with embroidered panels and with tiers of lace ruffles. The overskirt was drawn back in the front to reveal a white underskirt with more ruffles. She knew Thomas well, and claimed him as a friend, permitting him to kiss her hand.

  “Would you like to be introduced to His Grace, Your Ladyship?” Thomas asked politely.

  “I would, Your Highness,” said the countess and turned her wonderful eyes on Phillip.

  Thomas made the introductions. The countess smiled, said everything that was polite and charming, and then led them both to meet the king.

  “Which lady is Princess Sophia?” Phillip whispered.

  Thomas looked around the room, his gaze roving over bevies of young women clustered together, laughing and talking among themselves and watching the young men.

  “I only met her the one time in Estara,” said Thomas. “I’m not sure I would recognize her.”

  “Didn’t the two of you ever meet when you were children?” Phillip asked.

  “The princess was in poor health,” said Thomas. “She suffered from terrible headaches and was not permitted to play with other children. I heard that the headaches were caused by the contramagic of the Bottom Dwellers and that she is fine now. Certainly she was in good health when I met her.”

  King Renaud turned out to be stern and abrupt, giving the appearance of a man wishing he was somewhere else. He welcomed Thomas with perfunctory politeness and then did not seem to know what else to say to him. Thomas saved the day by speaking of how much he was looking forward to joining the Rum Fleet when it sailed to the Aligoes, and started asking questions about the ship on which he and Phillip were to serve.