Prince of Secrets and Shadows

by C. S. Johnson

  “I know, but she’s got secrets of her own. I should be entitled to a few myself.” I reached out and took his hand. “And, for now, Ferdy is one of them. I don’t want her to know about him.”

  “What happened with him, exactly?” Ben asked. “I know you saw him at the castle.”

  “He knows about the Order,” I said. That was the truth.

  “And?”

  “And he did not want anything to do with me after that.”

  That was a lie. My mind taunted me with the memory of Ferdy’s embrace, the beautiful horror of our fiery passion, a self-sentenced penance far worse than any I could have been given.

  Once we made it to the stables, I watched as Ben made a few adjustments on his brace. “Is that new?”

  “Yes.” Ben did not look at me. “After it broke the other day, I decided to try out a few ideas to help with our new activities. See? I added some padding at the joints to help with the clacking sound, and it fits inside my boot better.”

  “Can you ride using it?”

  “I can, but since we’re going to go into the city tonight, we should walk.”

  “Walk? It’s going to take more than an hour to do that,” I groaned.

  “Lady POW is more likely to notice we are gone if there’s a horse missing,” Ben said. “And Dox is getting old. Let him rest.”

  “He’s not that old. Táta bought him the summer before Máma died,” I remembered. “He called him ‘Dox,’ for doxology since it was a miracle he had gotten such a good price on a horse in his prime.”

  “That was fifteen years ago. See? He is old.”

  I said nothing in reply. Although Ben was right, even though I was attempting to get along with him, I did not want to give him more accolades than he needed.

  “Otec did always have a strange way with names,” Ben added, almost as if he sensed my reluctant concession. “‘Benedict’ was short for ‘benediction.’”

  “It seems to be appropriate, on both accounts.”

  Ben brushed off my teasing. “Well, I suppose it’s a miracle now that Dox has managed to survive this long.”

  “We survived, too,” I reminded Ben gently. If I had been younger, I might have reached over and hugged him in comfort. As it was, I was still tempted to reach for him.

  Instead, I buried myself into my cloak, already blistering against the chill as we made our way toward the heart of Prague.

  The city was not far from our home. Riding in the carriage or up on Dox, I could cross the Vltava within thirty minutes, and that usually included a stop at Tulia’s cottage. We passed by her former home, and I could still see a few of the remaining walls. The fire had devoured the small house weeks before, and now the snow covered a good portion of the scorched wood.

  In the background, Prague’s city skyline glowed with lamplight from within and moonlight from without. From where we were, I could not see the broken, collapsed castle walls, nor could I hear the city’s chatter.

  As I studied the castle walls, I saw a few rooms lit up with light, and I wondered if Ferdy was there. Karl was staying there, too, I recalled, and I chuckled at the thought of them forced to dine together. I knew it was wrong to laugh at another’s misery, but if I could find no joy in my own despair, laughing at someone else’s did not seem so unnatural.

  “What is it?” Ben asked. “What is so amusing?”

  “Oh ... I was thinking of Karl,” I said, scrambling to think of something else. “He said he was staying at the castle. I thought ... I was thinking it would be amusing if we just kidnapped him.”

  “We could do that.” Ben’s tone was serious as he considered my jest. “You know him, so we would be able to get close enough. If he is there without Lord Maximillian, he would not be able to call for help. And we could likely get around the guards. King Ferdinand already knows about the Order.”

  “I do know that Empress Maria Anna trusts me, at least enough she did not tell Karl about me,” I added. Philip had told me that before, and Lady Penelope confirmed it. “You know, she trusted Máma, too, during the Revolution.”

  “Did she?”

  “Máma was the one who protected her, along with Táta.” I glanced back at the castle, thinking of Karl. “She was pregnant at the time.”

  “Well, I was born just after the Revolution,” Ben said.

  “I meant the Empress, not Máma.”

  “Well, she was pregnant, because I was born just before 1849.” Ben shrugged. “I guess they were both pregnant at the same time.”

  It was strange to think that. I had never thought about it before, but Ben was right. My mother and the former empress had both been pregnant at the same time.

  Maybe that was the real reason they were able to trust each other, I thought. There had to be something to motherhood that bound women together, the same way that my life was connected to Karl and Ferdy, in that I could understand the uniqueness of a sibling’s love, or the lack thereof.

  “Ben?” My voice dropped to a whisper, as though I knew it was treachery to even think such a thing. “Do you think we made the right decision to join the Order?”

  “Of course.” Ben’s answer was immediate and certain, and I could not stop myself from envying him. He had all of his doubts answered at the beginning.

  “Why do you ask that?” Ben pressed, stepping closer to me as we crossed the Vltava, heading over the river toward the Jewish Quarter where the Cabal was located. “Don’t you like it?”

  “Well, I’ve failed at it,” I said. “And ... what about Táta? He was poisoned with the Order’s secret weapon. Who could have done that, other than a member of the Order?”

  “There are always traitors on every side.”

  His answer did not give me comfort. It sounded too much like a scripted answer, something he had overheard and decided to believe until a better theory or certain proof came along.

  “I’ve been thinking ... maybe we should find out what happened when Máma was here before,” I said. “I know Lady POW does not want to talk about it, but she says she knows that our father’s murder and the current political coup are related.”

  Ben sighed, his steps slowing down as we came up to the entrance of the Cabal. “I don’t know, Nora. If Lady POW does not want to reach out to the League, she likely has a good reason.”

  “Amir and Harshad are both part of the League, as is Lady Penelope herself,” I pointed out.

  “She would know firsthand how treacherous some of the members are, then.”

  “Stop making excuses for her. We should learn about that ourselves. And besides, if Lady POW is keeping secrets, she might be lying to us as well.”

  “She’s been a good leader so far. What could she be lying about?”

  “Plenty. She’s a woman who puts business before family, remember?” I bit my lip, not sure what else I could say. Ben’s antipathy made me worry that I could not trust him with my doubts, and as much as I knew it was true, I hated to think that I was right to keep Ferdy’s secrets from him, too.

  “Maybe we can learn some things about the past when we get back,” Ben said, clearly conflicted. I saw him avoid my gaze as I looked over at him. “But first, we are here to look for Betsy and Mavis.”

  I sighed. He was right about that. We could worry about multiple things at one time, but we could only do one thing at a time, too.

  “I feel so useless sometimes, Ben,” I confessed. “There is so much evil in the world, so many questions that will always be unanswered. And there are so many other people who don’t seem to care.”

  He gave me a scrutinizing look. “Do you want to quit the Order?”

  I bristled, feeling like he had missed my point. “Máma did.”

  And she kept her own mother from learning about us, too—maybe to protect us.

  Philip said before that Ferdy had been kept a secret from the Order and the others who protected the king during the Revolution. Was it possible that in joining the Order, while I was able to learn more about my mothe
r and who she truly was, I was actually working against her wishes?

  “Nora.” Ben tugged on my cloak. “We can’t leave the Order now. There are people we need to save.”

  Even if I did not feel good about it, I knew Ben was right. I could almost hear Harshad’s voice inside my head, telling me to focus. We were here to find information on Betsy and Mavis, and the rest of our former household.

  I did not have time for doubts.

  But.

  There would likely always be people to save, countries to help, maybe even rulers to protect. “I don’t know if we will ever be able to leave,” I whispered. “Do you think we can?”

  “Why would you want to?” Ben said. When I only shrugged, he sighed. “Leaving is one thing that Lady POW never did specify. She has been doing this for decades now.”

  We fell into silence, as the Cabal came into sight.

  It was time to see if we could find some answers to my many questions. I straightened my shoulders, determined to remain hopeful.

  *9*

  ◊

  The Cabal seemed different as Ben and I entered. Last time, the warmth of the atmosphere had leaped out to greet me, to pull me in and absorb me into its setting.

  There was a long wooden bar at the back of the room, one that was polished to a shine. Several tables cluttered the room in front of it, while a few large chairs were arranged in front of a fireplace. The embers burned low, already spent from the cold weather; I saw the small fires blink at me from among the soot, like demon eyes pulled out of the past.

  This time, I felt more like a stranger, as though I had walked into the wrong building by mistake. It was mostly empty, like it had been the day Tulia and I visited for the first time, and I could not stop myself from wondering if I had imagined it more grand with Ferdy by my side.

  Ben hesitated more than once as we made our way through the pub. My stomach briefly clenched, wondering if it was possible Ferdy would come. I could easily see him stealing away to see Clavan and his other friends, breaking away from his time at the castle with his family.

  But as I walked closer to the bar, I knew Ferdy was nowhere to be found; his absence was as noticeable and tangible as his presence.

  “Ben.” A familiar voice, coupled with a cloud of pipe smoke, called out in greeting from the far end of the room.

  “Jarl.” My brother instantly cheered. We shuffled over to his table, where I could see he was reading a book and sipping from a glass of beer. With his smoker’s coat and a pair of thick, half-moon spectacles perched on his nose, Jarl looked much older than me and Ben, even though he was in his late twenties.

  “I cannot tell you how delighted I am to see you,” Jarl said. “Faye is working with her mother, and Clavan is seeing to the business side of things tonight.”

  “There are not a lot of people here,” I said.

  “Which is good for me, and possibly bad for you.” Jarl stood politely, giving Ben a nod.

  I glanced around. There was a priest reading his Bible alone, and a pair of travelers who settled into a corner at the far end of the bar. One of them caught my gaze and gave me a brilliant smile. He was wearing a greatcoat, while his bright blonde hair, curled and styled high, twinkled under the bar lights. I was first embarrassed at the exchange, and Ben, seeing my discomfort, stepped between us. But when Ben turned his full attention to Jarl, I saw the man’s green eyes settle and stay on me.

  I tried to shake off the ominous feeling of being watched. It was only when Jarl pulled out my chair that I managed to forget about him.

  “Thank you for joining me,” Jarl said.

  “Of course.” Ben gave him a friendly clap on the shoulder before he took his seat. “I know you enjoy having an audience, and the options are limited tonight.”

  “Usually Ferdy helps me out in that regard, but he hasn’t been here for a few days.”

  At Ferdy’s name, spoken so casually, my world broke. My previous embarrassment shifted into something more morose; I felt the fear of upcoming mortification, the terror of a confrontation I did not want, and the fervent wish for a divine reprieve.

  “Where is he?” Ben gripped his hands together, and I could hear him cracking his knuckles. I frowned at him, hoping he would calm down. I did not want to make a scene, and this was the wrong place for Ben and me to hold a rematch to our earlier battle with Harshad.

  “He frequents the Cabal but goes missing from time to time.” Jarl took off his glasses and tucked them into a pocket on the front of his coat. “But since you’re here, I can assume he is coming? He owes me some money from our last bet.”

  I shook my head. “I haven’t seen him lately, either. My apologies.”

  Jarl waved away my regret. “If I didn’t know he was good for it, I’d hunt him down. But no matter. Now, keep me from perishing from boredom. Tell me of the excitement around town. Working as much as I do, you always hear the good gossip last.”

  “We are quite bored ourselves,” I said. “We were hoping Clavan and Eliezer would be here.”

  “Clavan’s in the back, and Elie might be here later. My Uncle Rhys came into town, and the two of them can talk for days, if they can find the time, and I know Elie would be quick to do just that. Zipporah’s been keeping Elie busy with all the babies she’s been tending to of late.”

  “Zipporah?”

  “Elie’s wife is a midwife.” Jarl took a long puff from his pipe before grinning. “I’m surprised you didn’t know. Eliezer repeats it quite frequently during our meetings. I think he wants to remind us that at some point in our lives, the difference between life and death might come down to how nicely we’ve treated him over the years.”

  I had heard that before, I realized. But it was not because of Eliezer; Clavan was the one who had mentioned it. Eliezer’s wife had worked with Dr. Artha before.

  Inspiration struck. “Has she seen a lot more patients because of Dr. Artha’s death earlier this year?” I asked.

  Ben glanced over at me in surprise, while Jarl merely nodded. “I don’t imagine it is much different. They worked well together, but some patients do not want to be tended to by a Jewess. She is more than a midwife, working with herbs and other medicines.”

  “That reminds me,” Ben spoke up. His voice had an eager tone to it, one I shared as much as I recognized. “I need to buy some special herbs for our companion, Tulia.”

  “Zipporah’s likely got it,” Jarl said. He chuckled. “She has everything. Ferdy’s been looking for better pipe tobacco for me for weeks, trying to prove she doesn’t have better connections than he does.”

  “Did he prove himself the victor in that bet?” I asked, unable to stop myself.

  Laughing, Jarl blew out a stream of smoke thick enough I had to swallow back a cough. “Honestly, I’m not keeping score. He gives me plenty for free, while Eliezer insists Zipporah keeps raising her prices so I will stop smoking in here. He insists it is not kosher and I only laugh at him, knowing Clavan would easily smoke one along with me.”

  “Would she happen to be around?” Ben asked, drawing the focus back to our mission. “I’d love to see about buying some of her stock.”

  “She only comes in here every once in a while, but Clavan can always send word if you need an order filled.”

  At that moment, the door behind the bar opened. A bald man came out, carrying a pair of cups in each hand. The lights of the bar reflected off his head and the small pair of rimmed glasses as they were precariously balanced on his slightly crooked nose. He smiled in greeting as he made his way to our table.

  “My ears are burning more than my eyes, so I am not surprised to hear my name, and I am especially not surprised to find it coming out of this knucklehead,” Clavan said, nodding his regards to Jarl. “What lies is he spreading about me now?”

  Ben and I laughed congenially as Jarl and Clavan chatted, exchanging barbs and insults with the familiarity of a close-knit family. Their easy conversation reminded me of Ferdy even more. It was not until Jar
l mentioned him again that I remembered I was supposed to forget about him.

  “Ella’s wondering where Ferdy has been lately,” Jarl said.

  Clavan turned and glanced at Ben. Before he could say anything, Ben shook his head.

  “She doesn’t want to talk about Ferdy,” Ben insisted. A second later, he winced as I stomped on his foot. With Harshad’s training, I knew it had to hurt, but he really did not need to announce to everyone that I was upset.

  “I’d much rather talk about the local gossip,” I declared, struggling to put on a brave face. “What news can you tell us? Are any important things happening? Any more murders?”

  “The weather has slowed the trickle of news somewhat,” Clavan said, giving me a smirk as he adjusted his glasses. “Surely you can’t be so bored that you want to hear about murder, Lady Ella?”

  I ignored his question. “Were you able to find the man who murdered Dr. Artha, Mr. Clavan?”

  He stared at me for a few seconds, likely weighing out whether or not I should be indulged. But he relaxed a moment later with a shrug. “No.”

  At his solemn expression, I felt a rush of shame at my insensitivity. Dr. Artha had known my father, just as he had known Clavan. I remembered Dr. Artha as a decent man, and even if I was uncomfortable at my own loss, I did not have a right to cause further despair. “I’m sorry. I was hoping for better news.”

  “He was a good man, and he made peace with God and his life,” Clavan said. “There is no better news than that.”

  “It would be better knowing justice has been done,” Ben said.

  “Better for us, maybe, but not much different for Sigmund.” Jarl puffed his pipe a few more times with a tepid smile.

  We dipped into a remorseful silence. Ben took a sip of the drink Clavan had brought him, and I just stared at the table top, briefly noting the title of Jarl’s book. From the small amount of German I knew, I saw it was The Evils of Revolution.

  If revolution was evil, I thought, it was good to prevent it as much as possible.

  I glanced back at Clavan. “Jarl mentioned that your friend’s wife sells herbs and medicine. Do you know if she is around? My companion, Tulia, is in need some for her health.”