‘I’m going to the capital, Madok. To the Citadel itself, perhaps. I’ve been summoned by Vethran.’
Madok leant forward. Her eyes were bright. He could see fear in their depths.
‘His Majesty has invited the Countess to reside in Gonfallon,’ Kaped said, ‘in view of the unsettling nature of the recent news. His only concern is her ladyship’s safety.’
Madok looked searchingly at Tevana. He could see that she was as perplexed as he was by Kaped’s reference to unsettling news.
‘May I see the order?’ Madok said. He hoped Kaped would have to have it fetched, and that he and Tevana could thereby snatch a moment of private conversation.
‘I have it here,’ Kaped said, producing a scroll from within his tunic. ‘The Countess has perused it several times, as you can imagine, but by all means study it again.’
Madok took the document impatiently, checked its royal seal, and unrolled it. ‘There can be no legal basis for this,’ he said, scanning the dense text. ‘What’s this? “Under the provisions of the law relating to the disposition of lordless estates...” This is preposterous, Kaped. That law was approved by the council only after Vethran arrested and replaced two councillors. It’s highly dubious. And it was intended to deal with lands left in the hands of children or idiots. In which category do you place Tevana Roslod?’
‘The order is signed not only by the King himself,’ Kaped pointed out, ‘but also by the Ducal Attorney. It may be that a legal counter-argument could be made, but my instructions are clear. County Cathogh, and all of Tevana Roslod’s lands, are now administered by the Council on behalf of the King.
His Majesty has generously permitted the Countess to retain her title in respect of Cathogh and, now that she is landless, has furthermore offered her secure accommodation within his ducal domain. It’s all in the order.’
‘I can see that,’ Madok said. He resisted the temptation to tear the document into fragments. ‘You can fight this, Tevana,’ he said.
Tevana shook her head. She looked sad rather than defeated. ‘Possibly,’ she said. But Vethran is very insistent that I leave Cathogh immediately. And once I’m in “secure accommodation” I doubt I’ll have many opportunities for discussions with lawyers. Times are changing, Madok.
Vethran’s code of laws extends beyond Gonfallon now: every landowner must adhere to it. And Gonfallon law now denies property rights to unmarried women.’ She laughed, briefly and with an edge of bitterness. ‘Kedin and I agreed not to marry. After all, our parents would never have considered doing so. We thought it was a passing fashion, and that it would constrain us. It’s ironic. If I had a husband now, my lands wouldn’t be forfeit to the King.’
‘Don’t blame yourself,’ Madok said. Blame me, he raged at himself; if I had arrived only an hour earlier I could have taken you away. ‘If you had been married, Vethran would have found another pretext.’ He noticed that the order carried a third signature. He pretended to study the text again, and concentrated on deciphering the spidery handwriting. The scrawled name was Pelod, he was sure of it: the castlain of Grake castle.
He brought his hand to his face to conceal his smile from Kaped. This was the first piece of good news he had had today. He now knew where Tevana would be incarcerated.
And he knew that Grake, while notoriously difficult to escape from, was far from impregnable to an attack from outside.
There was still hope.
He thrust the scroll towards Kaped. ‘The document’s in order,’ he said, ‘inasmuch as injustice is ever in order.’ He glanced towards Tevana. She nodded: she had seen his smile, and she had understood.
‘Commander,’ Madok said to Kaped, ‘I have come here in haste on a private mission from Kedin Ashar. The subject is a delicate one, and I am under instructions to speak to no one but Tevana Roslod. Would you leave us alone for a few minutes?’
Madok had no expectation that a direct request for privacy would prove effective, but there was no harm in asking.
Kaped shook his head. ‘My instructions are also clear, sir. I and my men are here to protect her ladyship. His Majesty has the utmost concern for her safety, and I am to leave no one alone with her, other than the ladies of her chamber.’
Madok shrugged. ‘Well, then, Tevana, we must talk of other matters.’
‘Tell me, Madok,’ Tevana said in a rush of words, ‘how is Kedin?’
‘He’s well,’ Madok said. ‘He misses you, it’s obvious, but he manages to remain cheerful. And resolute.’ It occurred to him that he could tell Tevana about Ace, the strange girl who had appeared from nowhere and who understood the space station better than Kedin himself. But then, on reflection, he decided not to.
‘Tell him I’m counting the days until I see him again,’
Tevana said.
‘I’m sure you won’t have to count many,’ Madok said, with a significant look. He was sure that once Kedin learnt that Tevana was imprisoned in Gonfallon, nothing would restrain him from launching the assault. ‘Has his Majesty graced you with a visit recently?’ he asked.
Tevana pulled a face. ‘Not for a few weeks,’ she said. ‘I’m running out of ways to say no. He won’t believe that I won’t marry him. I’m sure he thinks I’m just haggling for a better offer. Apparently if I accept him now I’ll be an empress.’
‘He’s still sending gifts?’
Tevana sighed with impatience. ‘The cellar room I allocated is full now,’ she said. ‘The latest evidence of his devotion is piled up at the foot of the cellar stairs. He doesn’t seem to notice, when he comes here, that I never wear the dresses and jewellery he’s sent.’
Madok lowered his voice. ‘He’s obsessed with you, Tevana.
Be careful.’
‘I know. Sometimes I almost pity him.’
Kaped cleared his throat. ‘Countess, we should be leaving soon. And I feel obliged to warn both of you to be cautious in your speech. The King disapproves of treasonous conversations.’
Madok looked up at Kaped. Madok’s adult life had been spent as a soldier, and he found it hard to hold any fellow-officer in contempt. Hard, but not impossible. ‘Tell me, Kaped,’ he said, ‘what is the unsettling news you spoke of earlier?’
‘There are reports,’ he said, ‘that there was something wrong with the last consignment of Twos.’
‘In what way?’ This was worrying: if Vethran suspected that Kedin was double-crossing him, it was not surprising that he wanted Tevana closer to his seat of power.
Kaped shrugged. ‘They were just a bit different, that’s all I heard,’ he said. ‘The commissioner’s bringing them all to the capital. So there’s been a considerable loss of trade.’
Madok turned slowly to look at Tevana. She would be as troubled by this news as he was, and she would jump to the conclusion that the Twos had been given the new formula instead of SS10. Sure enough, she was frowning at him intensely. He mouthed the word ‘No,’ and turned his head slightly from side to side.
She understood, and like him she was even more perplexed. He widened his eyes and shrugged.
Things were moving fast: out of control. The Twos that had been landed the previous day would be among the last to receive SS10. There was now sufficient of the new formula on the space station to dose all prisoners with it, and it would be used as soon as Kedin knew how long its effects would last.
The slave trade was as good as over - although it would be some time before anyone realised it.
But it had been Twos dosed with SS10 who had behaved strangely, and had prompted Vethran to bring Tevana, his hostage for Kedin’s good behaviour, closer to him.
Madok didn’t understand. But he knew that Tevana’s move from house arrest to prison would prompt Kedin to launch his assault.
Someone had lit the fuse, and in a way it didn’t matter who had done it: within days the powder would explode.
‘We will meet again, my lady,’ Madok said. He stood up and saluted. ‘Soon.’
Chapter Four
&
nbsp; The trees here were so unlike those of his home world. Bep-Wor held a thin branch in his hand and studied it: a maze of brown, woody stems, from which green leaves sprouted.
Nothing like the giant cycads he was used to, which blocked the sun’s rays and made slabs of black shadow on the soil.
These small leaves scattered the sunlight.
He used his hand to shield his eyes as he peered between the trunks of the trees. The men he had posted as sentries at the edge of the spinney were still in position. The rest of the group was sitting and lying under the trees. The Doctor -
where was the Doctor?
Bep-Wor found the Doctor pacing back and forth at the edge of the woods.
‘Come further in, Doctor,’ he called. ‘You can be seen out there.’
The Doctor scrambled across a barrier of thorns. ‘We should move on, Bep-Wor,’ he said, tugging his trouser legs free. ‘We found a stream for everyone to wash in. We found a place to stop and eat. Now we’ve found the farm. Let’s proceed.’
Bep-Wor led the Doctor to a gap between the trees, through which they had a view of the farmhouse, nestling in the valley below them, surrounded by barns and other outbuildings. ‘I can tell you’re not a former,’ Bep-Wor said.
‘Look, Doctor: the farm itself is deserted. There may be a few workers in the kitchen or the livestock sheds, but on a fine day such as this almost everyone will be out in the fields. You can see them: there, and there. And earlier I saw a party going over the brow of that hill.’
This was the largest farm Bep-Wor had ever seen. As far as he could tell, all the land between the hills on the horizon and the wooded hill on which he stood was part of one estate.
All around the farm buildings the countryside had been divided into a patchwork of fields: some contained grazing animals, some were rippling with growing crops, and others were recently ploughed.
‘The sun is descending,’ Bep-Wor pointed out. ‘Summer days are short on this world. We’ll see the workers return from the fields. Then we’ll go down to the farm.’
‘Very well,’ the Doctor agreed. ‘I suppose there’s not much point in making a social call while no one’s at home. Are you going to wear that uniform? You’re not exactly up to parade-ground standard, you know.’
Bep-Wor stroked his chin as he looked down at the uniform he was wearing. He hadn’t shaved for almost a week, and his stubble was becoming a beard. The tunic was too big for him, and the trousers were too short: the soldier he’d stripped had been stocky.
‘No one would take me for a native anyway,’ he said. ‘As soon as I speak I’ll betray myself as a Two. You’ll have to do the talking, Doctor. You’re good at that.’
Later, as the last long shadows merged into a chill dusk, the Doctor and Bep-Wor led the escaped prisoners out of the wood, down the hillside and towards the farm buildings, where windows were yellow with lamplight.
The farm buildings were arranged in a square around a courtyard, the entrance to which was between two high, wooden barns. The main house stood on the opposite side of the square: light and the noise of conversations spilled from the windows.
Bep-Wor stopped at the entrance. He looked over his shoulder and saw nothing but rows of anxious, eager faces.
He held up one hand. His army was stationary and silent.
‘Go on, then, Doctor,’ Bep-Wor said. ‘Try to get Kia-Ga out of there. If you can buy food as well, so much the better. And if you need help, we’ll come running.’
The Doctor smiled. ‘Don’t worry, Bep-Wor,’ he said. ‘I think you’ll find I can conduct a simple negotiation without any difficulty.’
He had taken only three steps into the courtyard when a shout went up from the upper floor of the barn on the left of the entrance.
‘Farmer! Farmer Bretod!’ It was a young man’s voice.
‘There’s a crowd of Twos here. Standing outside the gate.’
The conversations in the farmhouse were suddenly hushed.
The central door was flung open. The silhouette of a large man filled the doorway. He hitched up his trousers.
‘What’s that?’ he shouted. ‘Namtol, was that you calling?
Twos, you say? At the gate? Are they ours? Ah, I see them.’
The Doctor stepped forward. ‘Good evening,’ he said.
‘Farmer Bretod, is it? Pleased to meet you. I’m sorry to trouble you, but I was wondering -’
The farmer gave the Doctor one puzzled glance and then ignored him.
‘You Twos,’ he shouted. ‘Get away from here. Go back to your shed. Brainless idiots.’
Bep-Wor clenched his fists. He heard a hiss, a collective indrawing of breath, from the men and women behind him.
He raised his hand to quieten them, but they pressed forward, so that Bep-Wor and others were pushed into the square.
The farmer looked puzzled. He stepped backwards. ‘Holred!
Conbal! Come out here. And bring me my shotgun.
Something’s amiss with these Twos.’
‘They’re not ours, Bretod,’ shouted Namtol from the barn.
Other voices were calling from inside the house. Behind Bep-Wor the escaped prisoners were continuing to press forward into the courtyard, and were shouting to each other. The enclosed square was filling with people and noise.
Farmer Bretod was once again in the doorway of his house.
‘Only one thing these Twos understand,’ he said, and turned to face the crowd. Now he held a long-barrelled gun in his right hand. He stepped forward and began to lift it.
The Doctor stood in front of him. ‘There’s no need for that,’
he said. ‘We don’t want to trouble you. We’re looking for a woman named Kia-Ga.’
‘Doctor! Doctor! Doctor!’ the escaped prisoners chanted softly.
The farmer’s face was a mask of confusion and anger. ‘Out of my way,’ he said, and knocked the Doctor aside with the barrel of his gun. ‘Quiet!’ he yelled, and retreated into the doorway, where he was joined from inside the house by two more men uncertainly holding curved swords. The courtyard was full of Bep-Wor’s people, chanting more loudly now and advancing towards the farmer.
‘Be quiet!’ he shouted again. He grabbed the Doctor’s jacket. ‘Get back, or I’ll shoot this fellow. Understand?’
The chanting ceased. In the sudden silence a woman’s voice rang out: ‘He touched the Doctor!’
There followed another brief silence, and then from the back of the crowd came a wordless cry that grew in volume.
Bep-Wor was pushed in the back as those behind him surged forward.
The farmer, still clutching the Doctor, turned as if to pull his captive through the doorway. He tripped as he turned, and fired his gun. The explosion rang around the enclosing walls.
Before the echo died the crowd engulfed him.
Bep-Wor, elbowed aside, found himself on his hands and knees next to the Doctor. Their followers flooded like a tide above and around them, entering the house through every door and window.
‘Doctor,’ Bep-Wor said, ‘are you hurt?’
‘Of course not,’ the Doctor snapped. ‘Now stop those people before they do something violent.’
Bep-Wor stared at the Doctor. He shrugged his shoulders.
The tide had passed over them: from inside the house came shouts, bangs and crashes. ‘It’s too late for that,’ he said.
They had ascended the 248 steps to the top of the highest turret on the Bridge. The pretext was to inspect the newly-installed radio mast; the true purpose was to discuss the situation freely without fear of being overheard.
The tower was half its original height: it had been lowered and widened to protect it from artillery and to accommodate large cannon. It could have been described as short and stubby, were it not for the fact that even now it soared above the surrounding towers. Its summit was the highest point in the province of Jerrissar. Through the gun ports that pierced the reinforced walls, Madok could look north along the mountain ridge, and
see its peaks and the monumental block of the Bridge itself far below him; east across endless rocky crags, into the evening darkness where lay the fertile terraces of Jerrissar; south, where the mountain ridge curved away to the horizon; and west, down the vertiginous slope to the purple ocean into which the sun had recently slipped.
But Madok was in no mood to admire the views. He had seen them before. He was only a little more interested in the spire of metal that was rising from a circular opening in the centre of the roof of the tower. The sound of chains and pulleys came from the depths of the building.
‘It’s a precaution,’ Credig said. ‘I don’t think we can be attacked from the air. As far as I know Kedin hasn’t supplied Vethran with any craft that have sufficient range. But it’s reassuring to know that the aerial can be lowered and is always safe.’
The frail-looking structure was already taller than Madok, and still rising against a backdrop of brightening stars.
‘Leave it up, Castlain,’ he said gloomily. ‘We’re going to need it tonight.’
‘I see no alternative,’ Credig said.
Madok hugged himself to keep out the cold wind. ‘If only I’d arrived earlier,’ he said. ‘I’ll never forgive myself. Tevana would be here now. Safe, among friends. With Kedin within a few days.’
The Castlain pointed a gloved finger at Madok. ‘Stop chastising yourself,’ he said. ‘That would be an order, if I had the authority. You’ll be no good to Kedin Ashar if you’re drowning in self-pity. At least we know that Tevana has been taken to Gonfallon. In the end, the result is the same.’
‘Is it?’ Madok said. He didn’t understand.
‘Yes,’ Credig said. ‘If you had stolen Tevana from under the noses of Vethran’s household cavalry, we would have had to launch the operation immediately. I can’t believe that Kedin would wait for Vethran to strike first. Now that we know that Tevana has been taken to Vethran, we will have to launch the operation immediately. The result is the same.’
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