particular that you wanted to discuss?' His focus came back to the man sitting opposite him. 'I assume that there must be else why would you feel the need to bring this decree in person?'
'Quite right,' Courtenay said, 'there is something.' He leaned forward and allowed his weight to rest on the arm of the chair. 'I am concerned that the Governors’ forces are too numerous, and too close to the city. I would like you to deploy more of the Guard to the outer walls.'
'Really? For what purpose?' Martell was surprised by the request. 'Is that really necessary, Lord Chamberlain? The Governors are hardly likely to besiege their own capital city.'
'I have some insight into the matter, Commander.' Courtenay stared back at him. 'Insight that you will not have. Discretion forbids me to speak of it in detail, you understand, but let us just say that there was a certain,' he paused, 'difference of opinion amongst the Governors regarding the level of security required to protect New Brunswick.' He adjusted his position in the chair again. 'They tended to disagree with the Emperor’s view of the situation. It was all rather tense, shall we say.'
Courtenay held up his hands, palms facing towards Martell. 'Now, I am not saying, of course, that there is any immediate danger from certain members of the Council, but it is just that the security of the Emperor is now, after all, my primary concern.' He smiled, his thin lips stretching across his face. 'I must, therefore, take all possibilities into account.'
'Naturally,' Martell replied. 'But you do realise that to enact this order would mean reducing the number of Guards at the Palace, and indeed at key points elsewhere around the city?'
'That fact had occurred to me,' Courtenay seemed to think about this for a moment. 'All things considered,' he said, 'I have taken the view that this is an acceptable risk in the circumstances. Would you not agree, Commander?'
Martell rose from his chair and stood at attention, puffing out his chest. He grabbed the bottom of his tunic and pulled it down before clasping his hands behind his back. 'My Lord Chamberlain,' he said, 'I do not consider any risk to the life of the Emperor to be acceptable. All things considered, I believe this to be an ill advised request.'
Courtenay’s thin face developed a stern look and he sat up to his full height in the chair. 'You display an admirable devotion to duty, and to the Emperor, I'm sure, Commander, but I do hope that you are not refusing the order.' His steely eyes looked back at Martell with an edge that could have shattered glass. 'His Highness has seen fit to give the responsibility for such decisions to me, and I am sure that he would look on any dissent most unfavourably. If I may say so, it would also not bode well for the future of our relationship.'
For the first time since he had met the man, Martell saw a harshness and strength in Courtenay that had never been previously apparent. Very few people had ever made him feel as uncomfortable as he now felt, and for the first time in a very long time reached the decision that it might be wiser to back down, and to retreat, on this occasion at least. 'No, my Lord,' he said. 'But I feel the need to formally note my objection.'
'Very well, Commander,' Courtenay replied, 'that is your prerogative. Consider your objection duly noted.' He looked down at his fingers, and picked at his nails, before looking back at Martell. 'But you will do this,' he said. 'It is now, after all, my decision to make.'
18
The Twenty-Eighth Day of New Year,
Imperial Year 2332
Frederick felt himself being shaken awake. Consciousness leaked its way back into his mind and he opened his still-tired eyes. The darkness engulfed everything in the room and in the meagre moonlight cast through the window, he could just make out a dark figure leaning over him.
'Your Highness,' Draper whispered. He moved closer, placing his mouth near Frederick's ear, 'There is news from the Commonwealth.'
The words sunk into Frederick’s awareness and as his eyes slowly grew accustomed to the dark, he turned his head to look at his sleeping wife. Kateryn did not stir as he lifted the blankets and slipped out of bed. He reached for his robe, which lay across the footboard, and fed his arms through the sleeves as quietly as he could. The tiled floor was cold on the soles of his feet as he stepped off the rug next to the bed and tip-toed across to the door. He looked back one more time, but Kateryn remained undisturbed.
Draper waited for him in the hallway and handed him his slippers. Frederick smiled, the man always thought of everything. The valet reached over and pulled the door closed, as Frederick slipped his feet into the footwear.
'What time is it?' Frederick asked.
'A quarter hour past two, Your Highness.' Draper looked apologetic as he explained. 'The messenger said that it was very important and asked me to wake you immediately. He was insistent that it was regarding a matter that could not wait until morning, or else I would have refused.'
'It is no trouble,' Frederick said, 'think no more of it.' He pulled his dressing gown around him and tied the belt around his waist. 'We had best not keep him waiting, then.'
oOo
Frederick entered the room and looked over at the figure standing near the fire, warming himself on the last of the embers that remained in the grate. The man turned to face him. He was of a similar height to Frederick, but his sandy coloured hair, and ruddy, tanned complexion suggested that he had spent a great deal of time outdoors.
'Merek!' Frederick said, reaching out to embrace him. 'It's good to see you, my friend. It must be, what, nearly two years since you were last in the Palace. How goes it in the Commonwealth?'
'It is three years, Sire, at your wedding,' the man said, stepping away. 'But, that aside, all is not well. There is grave news from across the border. I could trust the message to no other and thought it best that I come myself.'
Frederick motioned for him to take a seat and they walked over to the chair. As Merek lowered himself, Frederick leaned against the desk, intrigued to hear would might have brought the man all the way from the Commonwealth to deliver a message in person.
'We intercepted an order, Your Highness.' Merek's face was drawn and wan, dirty from many days on the road. 'It was on its way to someone in the hills, we think, in the vicinity of the border between the Empire and the Commonwealth.' He reached out to Frederick and grasped his forearm. 'It is as you suspected, Sire. There is a traitor in Highport.'
'I knew it,' Frederick said, 'I have thought as much for some time.' There had to be. There were too many coincidences, and too many anticipated counter moves by whoever was coordinating the attacks. 'Is there any indication who sent it?’
'No, Your Highness, the writing was not recognised and the detail sparse, but at least we were able to find out where the next attack would have been targeted. We have sent a warning, and they will be prepared should it still come.' The man looked concerned. 'I regret to say, though, that the messenger died during the questioning. The amount of information gained was, therefore, not as much as we had hoped.'
'A pity,' Frederick said, 'but at least some lives will have been saved. The Queen must be told about this. Perhaps, now, she may believe that I have no agenda to take any of her lands.'
'But there is more, Your Highness.' Merek pulled a sheet of parchment from his shirt and handed it to Frederick. 'This is why I have come. It is a transcript of what we saw.'
Frederick took the sheet and read from it. The words burned into his mind as he took in the message carried in the writing. When he had finished, he lowered the paper and looked at the man.
'So,' he said, 'not only is someone organising forces in the hills, but there is also to be an attempt on my life.' He smiled. 'How appropriate that it should be planned to come on Emperor’s Feast Day, of all days.'
'You must cancel the Feast Ball, Sire.'
Frederick shook his head, placing his hand on Merek's shoulder. 'I can’t do that, my friend,' he said. 'Don't you see, it’s the best chance that we have to flush out the traitor.' He stood and walked across the room, stopping as he reached the fireplace before turning back to face Merek.
'If I were to cancel it, then we would still be no further forward, and we would still have a spy in our midst.'
Merek nodded.
'No, Merek,' Frederick continued, 'as much as I am not keen to be the bait in a trap, if it is necessary, then so be it. I will put my faith in God to deliver the truth.'
'But we don’t know who this person is, Your Highness.' Merek rose from his seat. 'No one can be trusted. Your safety cannot be guaranteed.'
'You need not worry about me.' Frederick tapped his finger on his lips. 'Be assured,' he said, 'if you know where to look then there are those in Highport that you could trust with your life.'
'Nonetheless, Sire,' Merek replied, 'you must be careful.'
Frederick smiled at Merek, reaching out to embracing him again. 'Go get yourself some food and rest, my friend, you’ve earned it. Stay as long as you wish. Make the Palace your home until you have rested.'
Marek bowed, whilst Draper opened the door, then turned to leave.
After the men had gone, Frederick read the words of the transcript again. He frowned and then folded the parchment in two before throwing it on what remained of the fire in the hearth.
oOo
Frederick slipped back into bed and pulled the blankets over himself. His mind raced as he considered his next, and best, course of action. There was so much to think about, and so many plans to make. Most of all, things must be seen to continue as normal, and not a soul must suspect that he knew of the impending attempt on his life.
Kateryn turned over in bed, throwing her arm over his chest. 'Where have you been?' she asked, looking up at him through sleep-filled eyes.
Frederick looked down at her and kissed her nose. 'I couldn’t sleep,' he said, 'I didn't want to disturb you.' And, with the information Merek had just presented to him, it was highly unlikely that he would get any more either. It was inevitable that he would spend the remainder of the night wrestling with his thoughts.
Kateryn's cuddled up to him. 'I was cold,' she whined.
Frederick wrapped his arms around his Empress and pulled her close, enjoying the warmth that his wife's body added to his own. 'It's alright,' he replied, 'I’m here now.'
19
The Young Man waited on the corner of the street as the sun attempted to throw its rays deep into the narrow thoroughfares and alleys of the Southern Quarter. Around him, people made their way about their business, engrossed in their daily chores, preoccupied by thoughts that he could only guess at. Not that he cared about them, or their petty problems, but the crowd gave him a level of anonymity that he found reassuring. This was as good a place as any for the meeting, given the circumstances, and it would also provide him with some semblance of security. He hoped that he would not need it, but was it not common knowledge that there was a certain safety in numbers?
He took a deep breath of the fresh spring air. He looked forward to the longer and warmer days that would soon be coming; already the sun was warm and it would become hotter still as the summer came in.
There was still no sign of him. The agreed hour had passed and he could feel himself growing impatient. It was so typical of the man, the arrogance that he displayed really tried his tolerance at times but, when all was said and done, he was the client. He had to accept that that's the way it was; do it the Hooded Man's way, or look for another commission.
A small boy ran up to him and tugged at his sleeve. The Young Man looked down at his grimy face; he was no more than five or six years old, and he smiled down at him. The lad already had the look of a streetwise operator and the Young Man wondered what his life on the streets had in store for him.
'Go away,' the Young Man said,
Angels Page 28
