Imperial Spy

by Mark Robson

  ‘Thank you for your time, sir; I don’t want to hold you up any further. I’ll be sure to compliment Merchant Shalidar on his taste in houses if I should meet him.’

  Femke moved on down the street at a steady walk. Shalidar owning a substantial property in Mantor was an unexpected development that could easily prove problematical. If Shalidar owned a residence here and had a good reputation as a merchant, he was likely to have a good number of allies in the city. It would therefore be more difficult to convince the Thrandorians that they had been harbouring a snake in their midst for all this time. If Shalidar had been trading here legitimately over a period spanning some years, then his word as a respected merchant was going to be held in a lot more esteem than that of an ambassador who had been here for only a few days and already was the prime suspect for two murders.

  The game was getting more complex by the minute and it was going to be difficult to win if Shalidar continued to hold all the trump cards. ‘Come on, Femke – think! What would Ferrand have done now?’ she muttered, trying to focus on anything that would provide a ray of light in the black pit of darkness threatening to swallow her. Ferrand would not have lost his cool, she thought. And, above all, he would not have given up. That thought lightened her step.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  ‘Ambassador? Is that you?’

  Femke froze. For a split second her heart leaped in her chest and her right hand went automatically to the hilt of a knife. It took a moment for her brain to register the voice and complete the identification process.

  ‘Kalheen! What are you doing wandering around the Palace at this time of night?’ Femke asked, keeping her voice low as she turned to face her Shandese servant. How he had recognised her, Femke could not begin to guess, but the fact he had done so unsettled her. Was her disguise so poor that it could be seen through readily? No, surely not, she reasoned silently. The guards had not shown the slightest glimmer of recognition as she had entered through the staff gate.

  ‘I could ask you the same question, Lady Femke,’ Kalheen replied in a hoarse whisper closing the distance between them and looking all around as if he was expecting trouble at any instant ‘Are you completely mad returning here so soon? You’ve walked into a trap, my Lady. The Royal Guards are expecting you. I overheard them being briefed to that effect yesterday, so I’ve been hanging around this part of the Palace all evening in the hope of finding you before the guards do. Fortunately, Shand has blessed me with success, but now you must leave and quickly. Get away from here and don’t come back.’

  Kalheen’s tone was so urgent that Femke almost gave in to the temptation to run for the nearest exit, but curiosity and the need for information held her firm. The young spy could do nothing unless she learned more about what was happening. She was exceptionally keen to look around Baron Anton’s quarters in the hope of finding something, anything, which tied his death to Shalidar. Without evidence to support what she knew to be the truth, Femke realised she had no hope of getting out of this situation with her future looking anything but bleak.

  ‘Kalheen, before I go anywhere I need to know how you saw through my disguise?’ Femke asked, also taking a quick look up and down the corridor. There was nobody in sight. ‘I thought it was pretty good, but you saw through it straight away.’

  ‘Lady, your disguise is fine, but I travelled with you for three weeks, remember? Also, I should confess that I knew your real profession before we left Shandar.’

  ‘How?’ Femke asked, genuinely shocked.

  ‘I keep my eyes open, my Lady. There were always a fair number of spies around the Palace and after so many years of serving there, I suppose I got used to identifying them. You were one of the more difficult ones to spot, but I guess I got better with time.’

  ‘Damn! If I’d known you were so observant, I’d have used you more effectively on this trip,’ Femke swore, livid with herself for misjudging the talkative servant. ‘Tell me, have you noticed anyone else from Shandrim here in the Palace?’

  Kalheen smiled. ‘If you’re talking about Shalidar, why not say as much? It makes things much easier if you’re plain honest. The thing is, my Lady, there isn’t time for this. I’m serious – you need to get out of here now.’

  ‘No, Kalheen, I need to know. Did you see Shalidar on the night of Anton’s murder? I’ve got to start putting the pieces together as fast as I can. You know who Shalidar is, but are you aware what he does for a living?’

  ‘I would guess he’s a spy too, my Lady. I didn’t see him around here the night of the murder, but he was in the Palace all the next day, I think. He had several meetings with the King and several of his senior Noblemen. I’m not quite sure whom he met with, or in what sequence, as I didn’t exactly follow him around. Come to think of it, I think Shalidar hosted some sort of a dinner party on the night of the murder, because when I saw him here in the Palace the next day I remember him being thanked for his hospitality. A passing Nobleman commented that everyone had enjoyed the evening. Why? Are you not working together on whatever you’re doing here?’

  ‘No, Kalheen, we are not working together. Shalidar is not a spy. He’s an assassin – one of the best Shandar has to offer. Unfortunately, our paths crossed professionally not long ago and I made a mess of some of his personal plans. I think he’s set me up, but I’ve got nothing solid on which to base an accusation.’

  ‘An assassin,’ Kalheen breathed, clearly frightened just by the sound of the word. ‘Shand alive, Lady! For goodness’ sake get out of here now. If you’ve crossed an assassin, you’re as good as dead unless you start running.’

  ‘Pull yourself together!’ Femke ordered, her voice low but firm. ‘I haven’t got time for panic. I need your help and I need it now. Where are Baron Anton’s quarters? I need to look round them. There may be clues there – evidence I need to nail Shalidar with. I know it’s a long shot, but I have to take a look.’

  ‘It’s a trap, Lady. Don’t do it,’ Kalheen pleaded. ‘Royal Guards have been swarming around that part of the Palace all day. You’d be spotted for sure. Shalidar will have anticipated you trying this. If he’s as good an assassin as you suggest, then there won’t be any clues there. The top assassins never leave loose ends – you should know that.’

  As he finished his sentence a slight sound from behind Femke drew her attention. A patrol of Royal Guards had appeared from a side corridor and was coming down the passageway towards them. The soldiers were still some distance away and Femke was about to tell Kalheen to bluff it when a strong hand grabbed her wrist and twisted her arm up behind her back with painful force.

  ‘What are you doing, Kalheen?’ she muttered in horror to him.

  ‘Trust me, my Lady. I promise I’ll do my utmost to get you released,’ he whispered back. Then in a loud voice he called out down the corridor to the Royal Guards. ‘Here she is. I’ve caught her. No need to hurry, gentlemen, she’s not going anywhere.’

  Femke groaned softly, she looked back to check the corridor in the other direction. Another group of Royal Guards had appeared there as well and was closing in on their position. Any thoughts of breaking Kalheen’s grip and making a run for freedom were instantly abandoned. There was no point. The soldiers had her well and truly cornered. She should have listened to Kalheen from the beginning. He had tried to tell her to run, but she had thought she knew better. So far on this trip to Thrandor Femke had not exactly bathed herself in glory with either her skills or her judgement.

  ‘Damn you, Shalidar!’ she cursed through gritted teeth. ‘How are you staying so far ahead of me?’

  The guards were not overly rough, but neither were they gentle. The first thing they did was to manacle Femke’s hands together behind her back in a pair of thick metal bracelets joined with a short chain and locked in place by a double lock. Even left alone with her favourite lock-pick Femke knew she would have trouble opening these bonds, as her hands could not manoeuvre sufficiently to be used effectively.

  The senior guard thanke
d Kalheen for his assistance and then dismissed him to return to his work, or his quarters, whichever was appropriate. Femke was pleased they had not held him as well, for he had tried to warn her, but in her stubbornness she had refused to listen. There was no point in sulking over poor judgement – Ferrand had taught her that. The best thing Femke could do now was to roll with the punches and be prepared to take advantage of any slight mistake that her captors made.

  With her hands securely locked together, Femke was manhandled along the corridor towards the King’s central chambers. The audience chamber, the King’s private study, his Royal Courtroom and many of the other day rooms he used for meetings and the hosting of guests were all centrally placed in the Palace. There was little talking aside from the occasional command for her to keep moving, which Femke saw as ridiculous. She was not likely to stop, given the number of hard pushes she was receiving between her shoulder blades.

  They reached the corridor which led to the King’s private study. The senior guard halted. ‘Keep her here and don’t relax your guard, men. Remember what we discussed. I don’t want any of her collaborators to have the slightest chance of setting her free. I’ll inform his Majesty the Ambassador has been apprehended. It won’t take long.’

  Femke was mildly amused. Collaborators! she thought with a wry smile. What I wouldn’t give for a few collaborators right now!

  Then she realised that in fact she did have a collaborator in Kalheen, but there was little point in dwelling on that thought. What could he do for her now? Nothing. Femke was on her own – she had been so from the start. All she could hope for was inspiration and a chance to use her skills to dig her way out of this increasingly dire situation.

  Somehow, Femke doubted any of her tools would escape the inevitable body search that was bound to follow. It amazed her that the guards had not already divested her of the various knives secured around her person, but as she would have to be a contortionist to reach them with her arms secured as they were, there was little she could do with them.

  The Royal Guards led her to the King’s study and held her outside whilst the senior member of the party knocked on the door. A muffled order to enter sounded from inside, which Femke instantly recognised as the King’s voice. The guard slipped inside and a quick exchange followed that was not audible to those waiting in the corridor.

  Suddenly the door opened again and the guard signalled for Femke to be taken inside. When she stepped forward, she was shoved with considerable force between her shoulder blades, causing her to stumble in through the doorway. Femke looked back over her shoulder at the slightly amused face of the guard who had pushed her, then gave him a look that would have caused anyone who knew Femke to sleep lightly for at least a month.

  When Femke looked forward again, she found the King was studying her intently. The expression on his face was not one she had ever thought to see, and it cut into her deeply.

  ‘There, your Majesty, what did I tell you? Caught, exactly as I told you she would be. I wouldn’t be in the slightest bit surprised if you were not her target tonight, but fortunately, as I said before, I know this young lady and how she operates. I suggest, your Majesty, that you deal with her swiftly and severely, for your Kingdom will not be safe until such vermin as she are exterminated.’

  The instant the voice began speaking, Femke knew she had been outwitted yet again. Shalidar was in the room with the King and Femke was beginning to feel like a puppet dancing on strings that the assassin was pulling at will. Right now, he was making her dance a jig that could well be the death of her.

  ‘Well, Merchant Shalidar, much as it pains me to say so, it appears you were correct all along,’ King Malo admitted with a heavy sigh. ‘I would not have believed it if I hadn’t seen Ambassador Femke so with my own eyes. I cannot tell you, Ambassador, if that is indeed what you are, how disappointed I am that you’ve not proved true to the brave words you claimed to bring from your Emperor. I so hoped that all the unpleasantness of recent months was behind me, but now it seems the bad times are still in their infancy. Have you any explanation for your actions over the last two days? Why are you now dressed as a servant of my household, with your face disguised so that only those who knew what to look for would identify you?’

  ‘Your Majesty,’ Femke began, her voice heavily laced with humble apology. ‘Believe me, nobody here in the Palace could be as disturbed by the events of the last two days as I’ve been. I know it was wrong to run when it was brought to my attention that someone had set me up as the murderer of Baron Anton. I should have stood my ground and tried to prove my innocence before the situation got any worse. I’m fairly certain I know who did kill your friend, but I can offer no firm proof to validate any accusation, so I must hold my tongue at this time.’

  ‘You know who murdered Baron Anton, you say? But you won’t name the killer – interesting! I wonder why? Could it be that you feel the murderer is here in the room with you?’ the King asked pointedly, glancing across to Shalidar in a hint that could hardly be less subtle.

  ‘I’d rather not say, your Majesty. I hope one day you’ll understand. I know you have to lock me up and see justice done, but I beg you to stay vigilant. I promise you I’m not the killer you seek. The Emperor desires peace. Whoever’s behind these murders is doing everything in his power to disrupt Emperor Surabar’s overtures,’ Femke said, unable to prevent herself from glancing at the smug face of Shalidar as she made her plea.

  ‘You see, your Majesty?’ Shalidar interjected, his whispering voice forceful. ‘It’s exactly as I told you. Femke is an assassin, yes, but not the brightest of killers. I know what she seeks. Her motives are revenge and nothing more. I’ve met this young woman before, and after I thwarted her plans at that particular encounter, I knew she would come looking for revenge. I can only apologise that it was your Noblemen Femke chose to use as her tools for this end. It was an easy guess that she would cook up some ridiculous story about me in order to shift the blame for her dirty work in my direction. Well, Femke, it won’t work. You left far too many clues at the crime scenes for anyone to take your wild stories seriously this time, so there’s little point in wasting your breath. You’ll gain no vengeance here today, do you understand?’

  ‘Not today, Merchant Shalidar, but one day soon you’ll be discovered for what you really are,’ Femke answered with as much disdain as she could put into her tone. ‘I can see that there’s little point in playing my hand whilst you hold all the trump cards, so I’ll save my breath. I would beg you, your Majesty, allow me a proper trial, with unbiased representation from my own country. Would that be possible?’

  The King looked thoughtful for a moment as he looked from one face to the other and back again. ‘Given who has been murdered I thought I wouldn’t consider it, but this is no simple case. I’ll consider your request, Femke, but I promise nothing. Whatever I decide, I will not delay exacting justice for long. Anton was my best friend for many years. I will not allow his death to go unpunished and this alone . . .’ Malo grated, his voice harsh with suppressed rage as he reached down to Femke’s boot, drew one of her distinctively modelled knives and waved it in front of her face, ‘. . . this alone makes me want to see you hang for his murder. I don’t care about your personal squabbles, but I know that in the cold light of day my conscience would nag at me if I hanged the wrong person. For now I want both of you out of my sight. I need to grieve in peace.’

  ‘Of course, your Majesty,’ Shalidar said smoothly, gliding towards the door with an instinctive grace of movement. ‘I’m at your disposal should you require anything else of me. Goodnight, your Majesty.’

  As Shalidar slid out of the room, the guards who had remained inside grabbed Femke again and drew her roughly to the door.

  ‘Make sure the Ambassador is thoroughly searched, men, but have it done by a woman. I want no improper accusations made should she be found innocent at trial, am I understood? Judging by the skills she has displayed already, I don’t want young Femke t
o surprise us any further by managing to slip out from between our fingers,’ Malo ordered firmly.

  ‘Of course, your Majesty,’ the senior guard answered instantly. ‘It will be done straight away, your Majesty.’

  The guards saluted before shoving Femke back out into the corridor. Then there was a welter of activity as men were sent off to find appropriate females to search her, along with prison garb for her to wear during her confinement. Femke could not help wondering where exactly that confinement would be, for she had never noticed any guarded areas of the Palace. There was a chance that the cells were not within the Palace grounds, of course, but Femke could not imagine the King allowing such an important prisoner to be held far away

  Initially, Femke was taken to one of the Royal drawing rooms and forced to sit cross-legged on the floor with her head down until the women body searchers were found. When the women arrived and the men left, Femke discovered that these ladies knew what they were doing. To her dismay every last one of her hidden tools and implements was found. Although the young spy had half expected this, she had harboured the faint hope that they would miss at least one of the smaller items. It was not to be. A short while later, Femke was being led along the corridors towards the ground floor of the servants’ wing. She was barefoot, wearing a long, plain tunic and a simple set of underwear.

  A door, which looked much like all the other doors in the servants’ wing, was opened to reveal a descending spiral staircase. This did not fill Femke with good feelings about the nature of the cell towards which she was being led. The staircase was narrow and dark. Despite the torches being carried by some of the guards it was not a pleasant descent.