Independence Day

by P. Darvill-Evans

  ‘No,’ Bep-Wor replied, ‘but they’re happy enough.

  Sometimes it isn’t easy to tell the ones who are free from the ones who have had the drug, when they’re busy with something.’ He looked back into the barn. ‘The two smiths are getting on well with breaking the chains. We’ll be ready to leave soon.’

  The Doctor peered out of the barn. ‘It’s very dark,’ he said.

  ‘We’ll let everyone get some sleep, and leave at dawn.’ His face was illuminated by a sudden thought. ‘How will you know where to go?’

  Bep-Wor held up the hammer he was holding. ‘I’ll take a few of the men and we’ll ask the farmer where Kia-Ga is.’

  ‘No violence, Bep-Wor,’ the Doctor said. ‘There’s no justification for revenge.’ Another thought struck him. ‘The farmer, the commissioner and the guards are all in the farmhouse,’ he said. ‘They’ll know we’ve escaped, and they’ll raise the alarm. You’ll have to restrain them.’

  ‘Don’t worry, Doctor,’ Bep-Wor said. ‘We’ve plenty of spare chains. I’ll take a few men and we’ll tackle the farmer, the commissioner and the guards at daybreak.’ There was no hurry: better to give the soldiers time to get helplessly drunk on the farmer’s brandy.

  The atmosphere inside the scout ship was bearable, given that there were five men crammed in the cabin and that one of them had been sick. Madok presumed that among the many automatic systems that Kedin’s technicians had yet to understand there was one that filtered the air.

  Madok was flying high, above the clouds. He didn’t want the ship to be seen. The four troopers with him had never flown before: whenever he looked over his shoulder they were still staring, open-mouthed and pale-faced, at the sunlit banks of cloud below them and at the miniature landscapes visible through the gaps.

  ‘Sir,’ one of them said, in a hesitant voice, ‘may I ask a question?’

  Madok smiled. He had wondered whether any of the troopers would have both the intelligence to calculate the direction of the flight and the nerve to question an officer. ‘Go on, soldier,’ he said.

  ‘Well, sir,’ the trooper said, ‘from the position of the sun I think we’ve been travelling to the south of due west.

  Shouldn’t we be flying to the north?’

  ‘Well spotted,’ Madok said. ‘I’m taking a detour. I’m going to call at the main landing site - the one the transports use. The one we let the King know about.’

  The silence from the back of the cabin was as eloquent as any criticism. The troopers knew the purpose of Madok’s mission; they knew the need for speed and secrecy.

  Madok couldn’t deny that their unspoken disapproval was justified. The detour to the landing site would not take long, but any delay was unwarranted. And unlike the troopers Madok knew that there were usually a few soldiers, either from one of the King’s regiments or hired by the King’s commissioner, policing the landing site: landing the scout ship there could hardly fail to be noticed, and might entail some risk.

  Nonetheless, Madok clung to his course. Kedin had not instructed Madok to make the detour, but he had given Madok considerable discretion to act on his initiative. And Madok was sure that Kedin would understand.

  ‘Don’t worry, men,’ Madok said over his shoulder. He directed the ship down, into and through the clouds. ‘This won’t take long.’

  Just long enough, Madok thought, for me to find a trader who remembers Ace, and who can tell me who bought her.

  Breathing heavily, Bep-Wor rested his back against the wall of the barn. Gathered in a circle around him, their faces ghostly in the pale light of dawn, were the men he’d taken with him to the farmhouse and the Twos - three men - they had found there and freed.

  When he leant his head against the wall, he heard from the other side of it the voice of the Doctor, organizing the men and women into groups in preparation for leaving.

  Bep-Wor straightened his body. This was no time to show weakness. He hoped his face did not reveal the shock and doubt he saw in those around him. When the soldiers from this world invaded his, he reasoned, they had shown no mercy. They were the enemy, and sometimes it would be necessary to fight them with their own weapons.

  ‘Clean those swords,’ he said, pointing to the blades hanging from the trembling hands of four of the men. He tore a strip from his clothing and used it to wipe the blood off the hammer he was carrying.

  ‘We did what we had to,’ he said. ‘There is no reason to feel guilty.’ Somehow, he managed to smile. ‘You did well,’ he said. ‘I’m proud of you.’

  He saw the men around him nod their heads. They visibly relaxed, and smiled grimly at each other. Even the Twos from the farm, who were under the influence of the drug, had animated expressions.

  Bep-Wor forced himself to remember all the details of the brief struggle in the farmhouse. The surprise and outrage on the faces, fixed there by sudden death. The soldiers, barely sober enough to comprehend what was happening to them.

  Making the farmer tell him where Kia-Ga had been sold, and where the money was kept.

  It had been easy. And now, as he went over it again, Bep-Wor felt surprisingly little remorse. He had never previously killed anything larger than a fish.

  He beckoned the group to come closer to him. ‘You all know that the Doctor will lead us to freedom,’ he whispered. ‘But he is a man of ideas, not actions. We have to act for him. And sometimes, like tonight, we have to do things that he would not like to hear about. So don’t let him know what we’ve done. He will be happier if he thinks we left the farmer and the soldiers bound in chains. Do you all understand?’

  Everyone around him nodded.

  ‘Good,’ Bep-Wor said. ‘Keep the guns hidden until we have to use them.’ He pushed himself away from the wall, shouldered his hammer, and strode round the corner of the barn.

  ‘Doctor!’ he called out. ‘Is everyone ready to leave? We’ve loaded a cart with food.’

  The Doctor emerged out of the gloomy interior of the barn.

  For a moment Bep-Wor was unnerved by the searching light in the Doctor’s eyes. ‘Well done,’ the Doctor said.

  Bep-Wor refused to answer the Doctor’s unspoken question. ‘I’ve found some money, too,’ he said. ‘And we took the soldiers’ uniforms. We can make ourselves look like a group of prisoners being led by guards, and with the money we can buy provisions if we need to.’

  ‘Theft,’ the Doctor said, making a face as though the word tasted in his mouth like a sour fruit.

  ‘Survival,’ Bep-Wor countered. ‘And,’ he continued, changing the subject, ‘the farmer told me that Kia-Ga is close: he sold her to the next farm to the north. Lead your army northward, Doctor.’

  ‘Army?’

  ‘Your followers, Doctor. Your host of freed Twos. We will go where you lead us.’

  The scout ship howled and shuddered as Madok cut the thrusters and raised the air-baffles. He had hurled the small craft through the sky from the landing site, and in his anger and impatience he had almost overshot his destination.

  Balon Ferud had bought Ace. His chamberlain had won the auction with the highest price ever paid for a Two. The only satisfaction to be had was that Ace’s value had been recognised, and that Balon had had to pay dearly for her.

  Everything else Madok had been able to learn was worrying. He had been hoping that Ace would have been bought by a farmer, or the owner of a mine or a plantation: then it would have been a simple operation, a quick and clean attack with a few of Kedin’s men, and Ace would have been free. But Balon had a number of residences, and none of the traders had known which of them Balon’s chamberlain had taken Ace to. Balon had only a small retinue of household troops, but they were well trained and well armed: even if Madok had known where to strike, he couldn’t have risked doing so. Not now, at this critical moment.

  As he pushed the scout ship to its limits Madok had to admit that it would be impossible to rescue Ace before Kedin began to move against Vethran. He would have to leave Ace in the hands of
the odious Balon Ferud. The situation could hardly be worse: only the Citadel itself would be more difficult to extract Ace from.

  ‘What’s happening?’ one of the troopers said. He sounded as though his teeth were chattering.

  ‘This is more exciting than guard duty on the Bridge!’

  Madok shouted above the roar of the wind. ‘We’ve arrived over County Cathogh. The castle’s below us. We’ve made up some time,’ he added, although the troopers could hardly have failed to notice that the scout ship had been screaming through the air since Madok took off from the landing site.

  ‘It’s still early morning here.’

  On his previous visits Madok had brought his ship down in the neighbouring manor, which belonged to an ally of Kedin, and had made his way to Cathogh by camelope. He had keys to the postern gates of the castle: the guards knew he was there only if he wanted them to.

  Now there was no time for subtlety and subterfuge. He would bring the scout ship down in the castle park. On his previous visits there had been no more than six guards in the castle: most of the squadron was garrisoned in the town, below the castle walls. He and his four men would be in and out before the main body of Vethran’s guards could react.

  ‘Weapons ready?’ Madok said, as he banked the ship around the topmost turrets of Castle Cathogh. ‘Remember: shoot anyone who tries to stop us. I want a volunteer to stay with the ship, and -’

  ‘Sir!’ Madok’s instructions were cut off by the excited shout of the trooper sitting behind him. ‘Down there, sir. Look.

  Camelopes and carriages.’

  Madok swore. The inner courtyard of the castle was swarming with cavalry steeds. The entire squadron, he realised, was inside the castle walls. As the scout ship swooped over the battlements, Madok saw cavalrymen in the King’s livery emerge from doorways and point skywards as they tried to calm their mounts. He cursed again. He would be unable to take the castle in a direct attack, no matter that the guards wouldn’t be expecting a flying machine to land in the gardens: his force was five men, and the defenders were twenty times as numerous. And now that he had flown over the heads of the cavalrymen there would be no point in landing at a distance, as he was wont to do, and proceeding by stealth and on foot: the King’s men knew that only Kedin had such machines, and they would be ready for any attempted infiltration of the castle.

  ‘Stow your guns,’ Madok told the troopers. ‘We can’t fight our way in against that lot. Swords only, and keep them sheathed unless I give the word. I’m going to land in the park, as planned. The story is that I’m simply on a visit from Kedin Ashar. You’re my personal guards. We’ll improvise once we’re inside. But be aware that we’ll probably have to abort the mission. And don’t eat or drink anything.’

  By the time the scout ship rolled to a halt on the flat sward at the rear of the castle, two dozen of the King’s men were in position on the terrace above. They were armed only with muskets, but at such short range, Madok knew, the old-fashioned guns would be deadly.

  He slid open the outer door and emerged with his hands empty and raised. The troopers followed him.

  Madok didn’t expect to be gunned down as he ascended the wide stone stairs that led up to the terrace, but it was nevertheless unnerving to know that he was in the sights of twenty muskets. He was relieved when he saw an officer step through the wide doorway from the castle.

  ‘Is that Madok?’ the officer called.

  ‘The same,’ Madok replied. He reached the top step and held out his hand. ‘How are you, Kaped?’ He couldn’t remember having met the officer, but he knew the name of the commander of the squadron on duty at Cathogh Castle.

  ‘Well enough,’ the officer said. He peered at Madok’s uniform. ‘No badges of rank, eh? What are you these days, Madok? Captain? Major?’

  Madok ignored the subtle insult. ‘I’m here as the special emissary of the Duke of Jerrissar,’ he said. ‘A civilian mission. It’s a private matter between Kedin Ashar and Tevana Roslod. And it’s urgent. I apologise for my haste, but may I see her?’

  Kaped smiled, in a way that Madok found unsettling. ‘Of course,’ he said. He looked over Madok’s shoulder. ‘Your men will have to remain in our barracks, however.’

  Madok raised a hand. ‘I’m happy to carry out my commission alone,’ he said, ‘but if my men can’t be with me I’d prefer them to stay with my flying machine. It’s a prototype. Very fragile.’

  Madok watched Kaped’s face as the officer considered his reply. He would want to have Madok’s troopers mixing with his own men: he wouldn’t dare use SS10, but a milder formula, or even a few glasses of wine, might be enough to loosen the troopers’ tongues. And while the scout ship was untended Kaped could search it, or boobytrap it.

  On the other hand, Kedin Ashar was the King’s premier subject: still the most important person on the planet, after Vethran himself, despite his long absence from court. It wouldn’t do to antagonise Kedin’s special emissary.

  ‘Of course, Madok,’ Kaped said. ‘As you wish. I’ll have refreshments brought out to them.’

  ‘Thank you, commander,’ Madok said, as he waved his troopers back down the stairs, ‘but we have provisions on board. Please tell your men to stay well clear of the flying machine. Now, may I see Tevana?’

  Kaped’s smile remained fixed on his face. ‘Follow me,’ he said.

  When seen from a distance, Cathogh Castle appeared unchanged since the days of spears and crossbows. Its walls of reddish stone were pierced by arrow-slits and surmounted by battlements; its towers were tall and cylindrical, not having been lowered and reshaped as defence against artillery.

  A closer view revealed that the curtain walls had long been demolished, so that the castle’s park and gardens stretched in uninterrupted vistas right up to the moat, which served now as a decorative lake. Terraces and conservatories had been built against the lower floors of the once-forbidding walls, and new windows now allowed light into the ancient halls within.

  Inside the castle any lingering thoughts of the structure’s martial origins were finally dispelled. It had been used as the principal residence of the Counts of Cathogh for three generations, and therefore its internal architecture was entirely domestic. When Tevana Roslod had acquired Cathogh she had set about modernizing the castle, so that as Madok followed Kaped across brightly tiled hallways and up whitewood stairs he found, as usual when he came to Cathogh, that the palace within made him forget the castle outside.

  Madok noted that the ceramic floors, the glass canopies and the brass lamps were not smirched by so much as a mote of dust. Servants were busy everywhere, and each one greeted Madok with a quick bow and a friendly smile. Madok was reassured: Tevana clearly still had income enough to maintain her household; her servants were still the loyal Cathogh staff she had inherited with the castle; and she had not been obliged, for reasons of economy or because of pressure from Vethran, to keep any Twos.

  The billeting of the King’s cavalry in Cathogh town had not prevented Tevana from managing her estates: although she was not permitted to leave the castle, she was able to receive her stewards and send out messengers. And, although Kaped attended each of Tevana’s audiences and read all of her letters, he knew nothing of the secret communications carried by Madok on his covert visits to Cathogh. Despite being confined to her residence Tevana had been able to keep herself informed of the political and military situation; she had even been able to offer suggestions about analysing the formula of SS10.

  Things had not changed, apparently, since the last time Madok had been at Cathogh: the restraints on Tevana had not been made any stricter. Still, he wondered why the entire cavalry squadron had come up to the castle. Was it possible that the King’s councillors had had warning of Madok’s mission? If so, there was a spy in Kedin’s staff.

  He had to see Tevana.

  Kaped stopped in front of the doors to Tevana’s apartments. It irritated Madok to see that two cavalrymen were standing on guard, as if Tevana were a commo
n prisoner. Kaped knocked, and spoke briefly to the woman who opened the door.

  Then the doors were thrown back, and Kaped and Madok walked in. Madok looked towards the top of the curving stairway, where he expected to see Tevana emerge from her bedroom. Instead her voice came from the drawing room on Madok’s left.

  ‘Madok. What a lovely surprise.’

  Madok turned. Although the sun was barely over the horizon Tevana was dressed in working clothes: a linen dress and an apron. Curls of blond hair were escaping from the scarf wrapped round her head. Madok formed the impression that she had been up for some time, and had been busy at some task.

  He bowed. ‘My lady,’ he said.

  Neither time nor tribulation had altered her. Her face was still unlined; her smile was still as warm and uplifting as sunlight. Nonetheless, Madok thought that she looked concerned.

  He indicated her apron. ‘You are up early, Tevana,’ he said.

  It would do no harm to let Kaped know that he and the Countess were on familiar terms.

  Tevana averted her face. Madok was sure he had seen tears in her eyes. ‘And you are late, Madok,’ she said. ‘Too late.’

  Suddenly she was vivacious again. ‘I’m leaving Cathogh,’

  she said with a laugh. ‘I’m off to Gonfallon. Come into the drawing room, Madok, and I’ll tell you all about it. We’ll have one of our interesting tripartite conversations.’

  For a moment Madok couldn’t move. He became aware that his hand was clenched on the pommel of his sword, and that his guts had gone as cold as ice. For a moment he considered striking down Kaped and attempting to take Tevana to the scout ship. But he’d be unlikely to get past the guards at the doors, he realised, let alone the hundred other men between him and the ship.

  He shook himself and followed Kaped and Tevana.

  ‘Gonfallon, my lady,’ he said, as if making conversation.

  ‘Which province, may I ask?’

  Tevana seated herself on a couch. Madok sat opposite her in a straight-backed chair. Kaped stood, like an over-attentive servant, between them.