Word of Honour

by Michael Pryor

It was only when Sir Darius appeared – looking immaculate, even though it was nearly four o'clock in the morning – with Sir Norman Hood that the nightwatchman used his keys in the lock. His every movement promised that some time soon he'd be saying to someone: 'You'll never guess what happened at work tonight . . .'

  'Miss Hepworth,' Sir Darius said immediately, 'you're unhurt?'

  'I'm quite well, Sir Darius. Thank you.' She nodded at Sir Norman.

  Bells sounded from the street. 'That will be the police,' Sir Darius said. 'I alerted them. Be prepared for several squads, plus people from Special Services and the Magisterium.'

  'Of course, Prime Minister,' Sir Norman said. 'The only thing that could be done, in the circumstances.'

  'Please let those in charge know that I'll have these young people at Maidstone, ready for interview once they've had some sleep.'

  Sir Norman huffed and puffed like a steam locomotive and shepherded them through the hordes of uniformed officers that were pounding over the marble floor of the main banking chamber. The whole bank was lit, and Aubrey wondered what nocturnal passers-by would be thinking. All-night bank-note counting? A bank tellers' knees-up?

  The Oakleigh-Nash was waiting outside the bank, Stubbs ready at the rear door. Aubrey was reassured to see that underneath the driver's greatcoat was the tell-tale shape of a pistol.

  'Miss Hepworth,' Sir Darius said. 'I hope you'll accept an invitation to a room for the night at Maidstone. I'll contact your mother the first thing in the morning, but I don't feel that rousing her this early would be polite or helpful.'

  'Thank you, Sir Darius. I appreciate it.'

  He bowed, slightly. 'I'm glad. I'm sure the authorities might have insisted on taking you, otherwise.' He assisted her into the car, then glanced at Aubrey. 'You have a story to report, Aubrey?'

  'It's Dr Tremaine, sir. He's definitely back.'

  'You're sure?'

  'It was him, Sir Darius,' George said. 'No mistaking it.'

  'You've saved the nation again, I suppose?' his father said.

  Aubrey gestured at his friends. 'We've saved the nation again.'

  Aubrey stood with one hand on the polished roof of the Oakleigh-Nash. The sky was brighter, the buildings about more distinct. 'A new day,' he said, and it felt good.

  Even though his exertions had left him exhausted, bruised and drained, it still felt good. The night's escapade was thrilling, hair-raising and utterly, utterly addictive.

  He wanted more of it. The trouble was, he wanted more of everything.

  And right now, he thought, some sleep is what I want most.

  He yawned.

  Nineteen

  SATISFACTION AT HAVING FOILED DR TREMAINE'S PLOT gave Aubrey some solace as he suffered from the effects of his exertions in the Vault Room of the Bank of Albion. He was exhausted, but had found it hard to sleep. He had a thundering headache and he was dismayed to find that he'd had a nosebleed in the night. His pillow looked as if someone had cut his throat and he had to expend some energy to calm Tilly, who brought his morning cup of tea, when she saw the gore.

  Despite the summons to an urgent meeting in the library, Aubrey took his time, limping through his ablutions and doing his best to gather himself before fronting to what he imagined would be an inquisition. He chose a bold, green-striped tie, hoping it would take some attention away from his slightly trembling hands.

  His satisfaction dwindled as he washed his pale, drawn face and saw in the mirror his deeply bloodshot eyes – evidence of the consequences of his decision to return to magic. He shrugged. He would have to endure it.

  The head of the Urban Police was John Pierce, an experienced officer in his sixties, large-framed, greyhaired, alarmingly whiskered. He was renowned as the scourge of villains throughout the city, and a man with forty hard years on the force.

  Yet he sat behind the table, looking both wary and intimidated by the two men either side of him – Tallis of the Special Services and Craddock of the Magisterium.

  While he was a phlegmatic man, he could not have been unaware of the tension between Tallis and Craddock. Without a harsh word being spoken, without an unprofessional look, the two were waging an invisible war. Pierce kept glancing from side to side as if he were suffering from incidental blows to the head.

  Wearily, with limbs that felt as if they'd doubled in weight, Aubrey admired the seating arrangements that had been hastily set up in a vacant room on the second floor of Maidstone. The table behind which the heads of the concerned authorities sat was big enough for the three men, directly in front of and a good five yards away from the straight-backed chairs where Aubrey, George and Caroline sat.

  Sir Darius was in an easy chair, situated against the wall, near the door, halfway between the questioners and the questionees. Whenever he contributed, the questioners had to look to their right, and the questionees to their left. It broke the confrontation beautifully.

  'So you're saying that the gold is now in the hold of the Imperator?'Tallis said to Aubrey.

  'Most likely. What's left in the vault of the bank is mostly fairy gold.' Aubrey held his hands together in front of him to disguise their trembling.

  Craddock tapped the table with his forefinger. 'I have a squad of operatives testing it. I'm sure it's as you say.'

  'So we have an incident on our hands,' Sir Darius said. 'It seems as if I'll need to summon Cabinet.'

  'We can't just go marching onto their battleship and demand to examine below decks,' Aubrey said. He straightened, feeling slightly stronger as a plan unfolded in front of him. 'Some tricky negotiation ahead, I'd say.'

  Sir Darius nodded. 'Quite.'

  'And you think you shot Dr Tremaine?' Tallis said to Caroline. 'How could you be sure? You said the vault was full of smoke.'

  'I don't think I'd miss the man who killed my father.'

  Tallis blinked, then suddenly found the papers on the table in front of him very interesting. 'Of course.'

  'Besides,' George said. 'He had a broken wrist and a few cracked ribs to contend with. He wasn't at his most nimble.'

  'It's remarkable then,' Tallis said, 'that we've found no trace of him.'

  'You've sent operatives after him?' Aubrey wasn't optimistic.

  'Of course,' Craddock said. 'We would have liked to examine the tunneller you spoke of, too. It sounded like a fascinating piece of machinery.'

  'Would have?' Aubrey echoed. He knew congratulations had been premature.

  'We couldn't find it,' Tallis said. 'At least, it wasn't where you said it was.'

  If Tremaine had activated the tunneller, then there was no doubt he'd escaped.

  'It might interest you to know,' Tallis went on, 'that a certain singer, an Arturo Spinetti, didn't appear for his show last night. According to the theatre manager, he's been abducted. The theatre district is in uproar. Although how anyone can tell the difference, I have no idea.'

  'It's a flimsy excuse,' Craddock said, 'and this circumstance does tend to support your story that Spinetti could be Tremaine.'

  'He is. Was.' Aubrey had mixed feelings. He felt vindicated, but also a touch guilty. If he'd raised more of a hue and cry, could Tremaine have been stopped earlier? In the pause, Pierce saw an opportunity to play some part in proceedings. 'You'll all have to come down to headquarters and make a statement, you understand.'

  Tallis frowned. Craddock looked at the police officer as if he was a performing dog. 'I'm sure there's no need for that,' he said. 'The Prime Minister will make sure that these young people write everything down. It will get to you as soon as we've gone over it.'

  Pierce frowned. His bushy eyebrows were two caterpillars muscling up to each other.

  'Only if that is acceptable to you, Pierce,' Sir Darius said carefully. 'Otherwise, I'll bring them to your headquarters immediately.'

  Pierce visibly chewed on this. He glanced at Tallis and Craddock. 'We have our processes.'

  'Agreed,' Sir Darius said.

  'But it's been a shock, no do
ubt. The statements can wait.'

  Sir Darius stood. 'Very well then. But if you change your mind, we'll be at Barker Street promptly.'

  Caroline stood, as did Aubrey and George. Aubrey rubbed his forehead, but a thought occurred to him. 'Commander Craddock, have you read the memo I sent you about Ravi's recent breakthroughs?'

  'Go on.'

  'It's just that I was thinking about the Law of Displacement. Perhaps.'

  'Aubrey?' Sir Darius said. 'You're not speaking very clearly.'

  'Sorry, sir. I'm still rather tired.' He cleared his throat. It was thick and cloggy. 'The fairy gold and the real gold. That's what I'm thinking of. With some careful spell construction, it should be possible to switch the two.'

  'Ingenious,' Craddock said. Tallis sat back and wrinkled his brow.

  'Circumstances won't get any better,' Aubrey went on. 'The fairy gold and the real gold share weight, dimensions, almost everything, really. The variables are kept to a minimum.' He warmed to his subject. 'Of course, distance is a factor, but we know where the Imperator is docked. I'm sure the fairy gold could be moved to a warehouse nearby to make the transference easier. I'm happy to help your people, if you like.'

  'No need,' Craddock said. 'I have a squad of operatives ready to work on matters such as these.'

  'You have? Oh.'

  'Mr Ravi has been working with this special squad for some time. I'm sure they'll be able to swing onto this task.' He allowed himself a thin smile. 'The Holmlanders won't even know what happened. Not until the fairy gold disappears.'

  Lanka Ravi was assisting the Magisterium now? That was news. Things must have moved apace after Aubrey's report.

  And how did this fit with Tallis's revelation of the Magisterium doing original research? 'I'm sure you were going to tell me about this in due course,' Sir Darius said to Craddock, but his tone said otherwise.

  'Naturally, sir. When matters were a little closer to resolution.'

  'It changes the situation,' Sir Darius said. 'But it's even more reason for me to call Cabinet together. This is going to affect Defence, the Foreign Secretary, the Chancellor of the Exchequer, the Home Secretary.'

  'Once the bullion reaches Holmland, it's bound to be put into circulation, eventually. Imagine the Holmland armament manufacturers when their gold evaporates,' Aubrey said. 'It's going to put a dent in their war effort if we can pull it off.'

  'Which isn't a bad thing,' George said. 'Maybe your Holmlander friends might be able to make use of this, Aubrey. They could expose Dr Tremaine and his cronies as thieves or incompetents, ruining the Holmland economy. Brandt and his cohort could sail back into Fisherberg as saviours?'

  Craddock shook his head. 'I don't think so. Manfred has reported that Brandt and his people are moving their plans forward in a different direction, with encouragement from their well-placed friends in Holmland.' He studied Aubrey. 'He still wants you to reconsider the offer to accompany him to Fisherberg. I told him that this was not feasible.'

  'Sorry, Aubrey,' Sir Darius said. 'Not a wise idea, I'm afraid.'

  Aubrey rubbed the back of his aching neck. He had no sense of this multiple-headed affair coming to a conclusion. It was like trying to cross a room scattered with ball-bearings that kept skating off in unexpected directions.

  Or was he being steered in directions?

  He nodded to his father. 'If it's all right, sir, I'd like to get some more rest.'

  Sir Darius looked to the interrogation table. 'Gentlemen?'

  At that moment, the door was flung open. Lady Rose stood there, hands on hips. 'What on earth is going on?'

  WHILE SIR DARIUS SAW OUT THE THREE LAW ENFORCEMENT officials, Lady Rose ordered Aubrey, Caroline and George to her drawing room. Amid the tribal masks, bark paintings and dried-flower arrangements, she listened as Aubrey recounted the night's events all over again. He didn't even pause when his father slipped in and joined Lady Rose on the shot silk sofa.

  'And so we saved Albion from financial ruin,' he finished. 'Have I missed anything?'

  'Of course,' Caroline said. 'But I'm trying to decide how much of it was deliberate and how much is simple forgetfulness.'

  'What about this Maggie and her Crew, Aubrey?'

  George said. 'They're still missing.'

  'Ah. I did forget that. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have. I'll have to let Jack Figg know we haven't found them.'

  'Jack Figg?' Lady Rose said. 'I hope he's over his cold.'

  Aubrey, Caroline and George stared at Lady Rose. 'You've seen Jack lately?' Aubrey asked.

  'I asked him to the museum a few days ago, and we went to lunch. I wanted to discuss a new project with him.'

  'Another clinic?'

  'One attached to his home for unemployed miners. He's doing fine work.'

  Aubrey shook his head. His mother – both his parents – were sources of ongoing wonder to him. 'You do understand that he's actively working to bring down the government, don't you?'

  'Good luck to him.' Lady Rose leaned over and shifted a vase of feathers so they wouldn't obscure an outstandingly ugly statue. 'Healthy dissent is the sign of a robust democracy. Isn't it, dear?'

  'I don't agree with everything Figg stands for,' Sir Darius said, 'but I'm glad to have him as an active voice. It stops us getting fat and lazy, taking things for granted. He shines a light on areas that need it.'

  'So what are you three up to now?' Lady Rose said.

  'Rest,' Aubrey said. 'I'm exhausted.'

  'You do look pale,' Lady Rose said. 'Are you sure you're not coming down with something?'

  Aubrey didn't know quite what to say. 'I'm well enough.'

  'I should be getting home to see Mother,' Caroline said. 'She likes to be kept informed about our excursions.'

  'Excursions?' George said. 'That's a nice way of putting it. Slogging through underground tunnels, battling a renegade magical genius . . . "Excursion" makes it sound comfy, like a nature ramble.'

  'Exactly,' Caroline said. 'Perhaps we could meet and catch the train back to Greythorn tomorrow evening, Aubrey, George?'

  'Delighted,' Aubrey said. Caroline made her farewells to Lady Rose and Sir Darius, and was shown out. Aubrey watched her go with the wistfulness he always felt when she left.

  'If you're just going to lie about,' George said, 'I'll dash up and see how the parents are getting on. I can catch a train from Fasham Square, just before lunch.'

  'Hmm,' Sir Darius said. 'You can ride a motorcycle, can't you, George?'

  Aubrey thought George's grin was half-hearted. 'Motorcycle? What country lad can't?'

  'I have a Kenyon Special in the stables. It's in good shape, but hasn't been ridden for ages. Needs the cobwebs blown out of it.'

  'What? No, I couldn't, Sir Darius.'

  'You'd be doing me a favour, George. '

  'Well, if I can help . . .'

  'Excellent.' Sir Darius rang the servant's bell. A quick conversation with Harris, the butler, and all was arranged.

  'Fifteen minutes, George. Stubbs will have the machine waiting at the front door.'

  When George had gone, Aubrey draped both arms over the back of the chair and groaned.

  'You're not really going to sleep all day, are you?' his mother said.

  'It sounds appealing, but I don't think so.'

  'I'm at the museum this afternoon. Darius?'

  'A hastily arranged Cabinet meeting for me, I'm afraid. I may not be home until very late.'

  'Don't worry about me,' Aubrey said. 'But if you're not busy, I thought I might drop in and see you at the museum, Mother.'

  'Me? Whatever for? Are you volunteering to document the backlog of specimens I have to sort out?'

  'I wanted to see the Rashid Stone. Perhaps talk to someone about it.'

  Sir Darius cocked his head. 'Now, I know you well enough, Aubrey, to realise you rarely do anything on pure whimsy. You must have some sort of motive here.'

  'It doesn't matter what his motive is,' Lady Rose said.

  'He ca
n't do it.'

  'Er . . . Am I confined to quarters?'

  'Tempting notion, but that's not it,' Lady Rose said. 'The Rashid Stone has been packed away, ready for its trip back to Holmland on the Imperator.'

  'I didn't know that negotiations had been finalised.'

  'It's all about the Elektor's birthday,' Sir Darius said. 'A number of things have become urgent, apparently. Urgent enough for Count Brandt to speak to the King.'

  'Who intervened on behalf of his cousin, the Elektor,' Lady Rose said, unhappily. 'The museum governors didn't think it wise to refuse a direct approach from the King.'

  'Wait, Count Brandt spoke to the King about returning the Rashid Stone? That doesn't make sense. He hates the Holmland government.'

  'It makes political sense,' Sir Darius said. 'By doing this, Count Brandt shows that he supports the Elektor, who is still phenomenally popular in Holmland, just as our King is here. Brandt also shows that he can do something the Chancellor couldn't, so his reputation goes up. It's a clever move, but it suggests that Brandt isn't planning to stay in Albion long.'

  'He wants to return to Holmland and become Chancellor himself.'

  'Which would seem to be better for us than the current Chancellor,' Lady Rose said.

  Sir Darius nodded. 'In any event, the Imperator is sailing on Monday. It'll give the current Chancellor a chance to crow, I suppose, and tell the whole world that Albion wants to appease Holmland.'

  'You can't do anything about it? Simply refuse?'

  'I'd like to. The Holmlanders looted the stone from Aigyptos. They don't have any intention of returning it to its rightful owners.'

  'They rule Aigyptos with an iron fist. It's the oil, you see, and it's a shame,' Lady Rose said. 'The Sultan is a thoughtful man. He had a keen interest in finches, the last time I spoke to him.'

  'The Sultan of Memphis,' Aubrey said. 'Didn't he attend Greythorn?'

  'Thirty years ago,' Sir Darius said. 'They still talk about his batting. He's a good man.'

  'You've met him.'

  'Back then, certainly.'

  'More recently?'

  Sir Darius grinned. 'Now, Aubrey, it wouldn't be seemly for the Prime Minister of Albion to meet a rebel leader.'