by Peter McLean
‘What brings you here, anyway?’ I asked him. ‘Won’t Grachyev be getting lonely?’
Iagin snorted. ‘That prancing idiot thinks I’m visiting my sick mother,’ he said. ‘He’s so deep into his mummer’s show of being a gangster he even treated me to a speech about how important family is. Honestly, Tomas, I know you really were a gangster back in Ellinburg but tell me you weren’t as much of a prick as he is.’
‘No, not as such,’ I said.
‘Didn’t think so. Anyway, here it is. The Old Man wants you sworn in properly once a couple of the others come home, and that means you have to get knighted first.’
‘Aye, I know,’ I said. ‘When?’
‘That’s the thing,’ Iagin said. ‘He wants it done day after tomorrow.’
‘Gods, really? What state is . . . our mutual friend in?’
‘She’s drugged up to the eyeballs, according to Ailsa, but she reckons it’ll be all right. There ain’t a lot to it really. It just has to be done, and more important, it has to be seen to be done and by the right people, then all will be well.’
I thought of how the Princess Crown Royal had been the previous day, and wondered whether I truly wanted her holding a sword near my neck. Lord Vogel wanted it done, though, and Lord Vogel got what he wanted. That was a fundamental fact of life, in Dannsburg.
‘Aye, well, if the Old Man wants it doing then there it is,’ I said. ‘What am I supposed to wear?’
‘Who cares? Something decent, obviously, but beyond that it doesn’t matter. It’s a civil knighthood not a martial one. No one will expect you in a dress uniform.’
I was glad about that. Conscript soldiers didn’t get dress uniforms, and my priest’s robes were both tatty and in a chest in my bedroom in Ellinburg, hundreds of miles away.
‘Well and good,’ I said. ‘Can I bring Billy and Anne?’
Iagin shrugged. ‘Can’t see why not. The more folk that see it done the better, in truth.’
‘Aye,’ I said.
I wanted Billy there, and not just for protection this time.
I was going to be knighted.
Me, a bricklayer’s son from the Stink, was going to be knighted by the Princess Crown Royal. Never mind that she was drugged out of her mind and quite possibly insane, nor that it was only a formality so that I could be sworn in to the most feared and hated organisation in the country. I was going to be knighted, and I wanted my son and my best friend there to see it.
More than anything in the world I wanted my ma to be there to see that, but even Our Lady can’t raise the dead.
I turned away from Iagin then, before he could see the tears in my eyes.
Chapter 16
Two days later I was in the palace for my investiture.
I was wearing my very best mourning clothes, and so were Anne and Billy. We were in the throne room itself, with some hundred or so other folk all in black. Most of the governing council were there too, so I was told, and a great number of nobles and courtiers and other folk whose purpose in this world completely escaped me.
The Princess Crown Royal was up on the dais, seated on the famous Rose Throne that had been her mother’s. Massive red banners hung vertically behind her from the high ceiling, bearing the white rose of the royal house and providing almost the only colour in the room. The outsized golden chair made the princess look more than ever like a porcelain doll, and once again she wore a heavy black brocade mourning gown and a black satin cap that covered her blonde hair. Both gown and cap were heavily sewn with black pearls.
Her royal father the Prince Regent was beside her on the dais, wearing another dress uniform with a broad black sash across the breast, but no medals that day. I wondered idly if Vogel had taken them away from him as a punishment. If so, it occurred to me, he didn’t know the Prince Regent half so well as he thought he did. The prince sat in the same smaller throne that had been his as Prince Consort, but it was he who ruled there now.
On the face of it, anyway.
Ailsa stood at his right shoulder, slightly behind him, and as the audiences wore on she frequently leaned forward to whisper some word or other in his ear. Whether they were her words or Vogel’s didn’t matter; the prince was quite obviously being told what to say by the Queen’s Men. Ailsa looked like a visiting Alarian queen herself, standing at his shoulder in a magnificent black silk gown that put my fine coat and doublet to shame. I watched her as the time slowly passed, and I swallowed with a dry throat.
Lady, but she was beautiful.
Fool, fool, I told myself.
Billy tugged on my sleeve. ‘Papa, that’s the princess up there, isn’t it?’
‘Aye,’ I said, wondering who the fuck else he thought it might be. ‘That’s Her Highness the Princess Crown Royal, in the throne next to the Prince Regent. You saw her on the balcony, you remember.’
‘She’s got the cunning in her,’ Billy said.
I turned and stared at him. Billy could see the cunning in those who had it, I knew that, but this shocked me all the same.
‘Are you sure, lad?’
‘Yes, Papa,’ he said. ‘Maybe she doesn’t know it, but she has. I know she has. I couldn’t see before, not from that distance, but I can see it now. And she’s very, very strong.’
When Billy knew a thing in that way he was always right. Except for the time when he hadn’t been, of course, the time that had cost Captain Rogan his life and Cutter half his face. I swallowed again. I didn’t want to think about that, or what it might mean.
‘Aye, well,’ I said. ‘That’s good to know, Billy. Thank you.’
Her maids have a lot of accidents. Burns, mostly. Bad ones. Apparently it’s becoming hard to hide.
I wondered what that might mean. I thought back to the funeral, and how fast the fire had spread and how hot it had burned, hot enough to make the coffin catch alight and roast the queen’s foul remains inside. I had thought that was strange at the time, but with the uproar of the guests and the princess screaming and the magicians watching and everything else to worry about, I had put it out of my mind. Now that he said it, though, it made sense. I wondered if she did know she had the cunning.
Burn, you witch, the princess had screamed at her mother’s coffin.
I thought perhaps she did, or that she at least suspected. Perhaps she had inherited the cunning from her mother, and resented it. The cunning was low magic, sorcery, no different to witchcraft in anything but name. That was something to be feared, maybe even something to be hated. That wasn’t a thing for princesses. It certainly wasn’t something for a queen.
I was still thinking on that, and wondering whether I should tell anyone or not, when a herald called my name.
‘Father Tomas Piety of Ellinburg,’ he announced me to the assembled people.
I bowed and walked slowly towards the dais the way Ailsa had instructed me to, my left hand held behind my back and my right down against my thigh in a way that symbolised how I wasn’t reaching for the sword that I wasn’t wearing anyway. I felt something of a fool, but apparently this was how it should be done.
There was a curious gilded stool below the dais, square and carved, with four stout, short legs, topped with red velvet and with a raised rail on its right side. This was the Knighting Stool, so Ailsa had told me, and she too had knelt there once.
The Prince Regent stood when I approached, and our eyes met. It had only been a few days since he had been weeping drunkenly on his knees in front of me, only a few days since he had confessed his terror at the thought of his daughter taking the throne, but of course we both pretended otherwise.
‘Father Tomas,’ the prince said, ‘you are to receive the accolade of the most holy Order of the Knights of the Rose Throne, before the gods and all those here gathered. Have you undertaken to accept the accolade of knighthood that has been offered to you?’
‘I have, Your Highness,’ I said.
‘And have you prayed to the gods that you will find favour in their eyes?’
<
br /> ‘I have.’
I was supposed to have stood a prayer vigil all the previous night, of course, but that was between me and Our Lady and I knew She wouldn’t take it ill that I hadn’t bothered. All the same, I tried to look weary and sleepless as I placed my right knee on the velvet top of the stool and my right hand on the rail, as I had been instructed to do.
‘You have been deemed fit for this high estate by your peers, and have indicated your willingness to accept this honour from the crown. Do you now swear by all that you hold sacred before the gods that you will honour and defend your queen and her regent, the Rose Throne and the realm?’
‘I do so swear,’ I said.
The Prince Regent stepped aside and a liveried aide came forwards carrying a long velvet pillow on which was balanced the thin-bladed ceremonial Knighting Sword.
‘I am but the regent of the Rose Throne,’ the prince said, as custom apparently dictated. ‘I call now upon my most royal daughter, Her Highness the Princess Crown Royal, to bestow the sacred and holy Order of the Knights of the Rose Throne upon this man who kneels before her.’
Nothing happened.
The prince cleared his throat.
My head was bowed how it was supposed to be, my left leg bent under me as I balanced on the strange stool, but I chanced a look up towards the thrones. The Princess Crown Royal appeared to be awake, but her eyes were glassy and she was staring a thousand yards into the distance in that way Jochan did when the battle shock was on him.
I was aware of Ailsa moving behind the regent’s throne. She bent and whispered to the young princess. Someone in the crowd coughed in obvious embarrassment.
A moment later the princess slipped off her throne and Ailsa caught her arm to steady her as she swayed on her feet. She was quite plainly drugged to the point of insensibility. She tottered forwards, Ailsa all but holding her up, and reached out a hand for the sword. Her small, pale fingers curled around the hilt and she lifted it and laid the flat of the blade against my right shoulder with almost exquisite care.
A hush descended over the throne room as the sword rose again, and then it fell against my left shoulder, and it was done. I heard more than one held breath being released and I thought one of them may have been Ailsa’s.
The princess replaced the sword on its velvet pillow and stood there staring blankly into the crowd of assembled courtiers. Ailsa took her arm once more and led her back to her throne, and I rose. The Prince Regent presented me with the medal of the Knights of the Rose Throne, and I don’t think I had ever felt more proud in my life at that time. If only my ma could have seen this.
I drew a shuddering breath and took the traditional three steps backwards before I stopped and bowed low to the dais. Suddenly the princess seemed to come to life. Her head jerked up and she pointed into the crowd with an unsteady hand.
Towards Billy.
‘That boy, he shines,’ she said.
There was a moment of uncomfortable silence. Ailsa cleared her throat and whispered in the princess’ ear until she glazed over again and the awful moment passed. For then, anyway.
With that, it was over, and I turned and walked back to my place in the crowd.
Look at me, Ma, I thought. I’m a knight.
*
There was a reception afterwards.
Of course there fucking was.
At least Ailsa had joined us by then, in one of the minor ballrooms where the affair was to be held. Billy was clutching her hand and staring around him with wide eyes at the towering gilt mirrors and glittering chandeliers, while Ailsa and Anne did their level best to ignore each other. As was her way, Anne had flat refused to wear a dress for even this most formal of royal occasions, and although her coat and britches and doublet were every bit as fine as mine, I think Ailsa took exception to them.
That wasn’t my concern, though. Anne could wear what she liked, to my mind. I was more worried about the princess than Ailsa’s thoughts on suitable attire for ladies at court. I touched my wife on the arm.
‘Is she in any fit state for this?’ I whispered. ‘I thought at one point she was going to fall over and stab me with that fucking sword.’
‘She might well have done if I hadn’t been holding her up,’ Ailsa whispered back. ‘I’ve had her doctors administer a mild stimulant. I can but hope, Tomas.’
I narrowed my eyes at the obvious worry in Ailsa’s voice, but said no more on it. A moment later Ailsa squeezed my hand and nodded to the doors of the ballroom, and I turned to see Lord Vogel stride into the room. He hadn’t been at court for my investiture, so far as I knew, but I was sure he was a busy man. He joined us a moment later.
‘Ailsa, perhaps Billy and Anne would care to see the formal gardens from the far window,’ he said, pointedly dismissing the lot of them.
Ailsa took the hint and led Anne and Billy away across the rapidly filling ballroom. Vogel caught the eye of a footman and lifted two glasses of brandy from the man’s silver tray before scaring him off with a look. He passed me a glass and touched his lightly to it.
‘Congratulations, Sir Tomas,’ he said.
‘My thanks, Lord Chief Judiciar,’ I could only reply.
He leaned closer to me. ‘You did well with our learned friends,’ he murmured. ‘Archmagus Reiter assures me that there is no need for further discussion on the subject of funerals.’
The archmagus had taken my threats to heart, I saw, and that was wise of him.
‘Aye, that’s good.’
A fanfare of trumpets sounded then, and I turned to see the Princess Crown Royal being led into the room between two of the burly nuns who seemed to attend her everywhere. Her eyes were huge in her face and she had a jittery, nervous look about her now that had been entirely absent when she knighted me.
Vogel’s hand tightened on his glass until his knuckles went white.
‘Doctors,’ he hissed, in the way one might have said ‘traitors’.
‘A mild stimulant, Ailsa told me,’ I said.
‘That’s what we told the fools,’ Vogel said. ‘Gods be good! You’ll have to speak to her, having just been knighted. There’s no way around it. If her idiot father had only kept her away from the funeral. Once more we must adapt and move on.’
After a time Lord Vogel took me by the elbow and led me through the crowd. The nuns saw us coming and steered their young charge towards us so that I could be formally presented to the princess at last.
‘Your Highness,’ Lord Vogel said. ‘May I present Sir Tomas of Ellinburg.’
I looked down at her, at this child-woman with pupils like tea bowls, and I bowed low.
‘Your Highness,’ I said.
‘Sir Tomas,’ she said, reciting perfectly tutored words. She spoke as though in a slow dream, although I noticed a slight tremor in her hands. I thought perhaps the two different drugs she had been given might not be entirely agreeing with each other. ‘A pleasure to make your acquaintance. Have we been introduced before?’
She had already forgotten knighting me not two hours earlier, I realised.
‘No, but I saw you once before, Highness,’ I said. ‘At a reception you gave in the previous summer. You had perhaps eleven years then.’
‘What an honour for you,’ she said. ‘Did I look divine?’
I swallowed, and couldn’t help but feel some pity for this unwell little girl.
‘If I may, Highness, it seemed to me that you must have been in a great deal of discomfort. The weight of the gown and the headdress seemed . . . excessive, for one so young.’
‘Beauty is pain, Sir Tomas,’ she said, ‘and pain . . . is beauty. When I come into my crown I shall have monuments to beauty built throughout the land. Beautiful . . . suffering. I remember you. You were with the shining boy. My mother shone, you know. She shone like a star.’
She turned and swept away without another word, her nuns trailing helplessly in her wake.
She’s got the cunning in her. She’s very, very strong.
 
; Was this what the country faced? An insane witch-queen on the throne, building monuments to pain and suffering throughout the land. It didn’t bear thinking about. I could only watch with mounting dread as she made her way across the ballroom towards where Billy stood at the windows with Ailsa and Anne.
‘Oh gods,’ I said, as I saw them turn to face her and offer bows and curtseys.
Anne bowed, I noticed, the same as Billy did, while Ailsa spread her skirts and dropped a low curtsey.
‘Ailsa will handle it,’ Vogel said, but I noticed that he couldn’t drag his gaze away either and I knew that meant he was every bit as worried as I was.
Words were exchanged, and I don’t know exactly what was said, but after a minute or two the princess departed with her retinue in tow. All the same she had taken Billy aside, away from Anne and Ailsa, who were kept occupied by the nuns, and she had spoken to him for longer than she had me. I didn’t think that was a good thing.
Once we had finally been able to leave and were safely in our carriage and on our way back to the Bountiful Harvest, I asked him what she had said.
‘She asked me who I was,’ Billy said, ‘and I told her I was master William Piety, as Mama taught me was the proper way to introduce myself to the highborn. My name’s Billy, though, so I don’t know why, but that’s what I told her.’
‘Aye, well done, lad,’ I said. ‘And what did she say to that?’
‘Nothing, at first,’ he said. ‘Then she told me that I shone.’
‘Do cunning people shine, Billy?’ I asked him. ‘When you look at them, I mean?’
‘Yes,’ he said, and looked embarrassed for a moment. ‘That’s how I know.’
‘And she shines too, does she? The princess, I mean?’
‘Yes, Da, she shines bright as the sun. Like I said, she’s very, very strong. Stronger than Mina, even. Sorry. Papa, I mean.’
‘Ah, call me what you like, lad,’ I said. ‘When your ma’s not around to tell us both off for it, anyway. You did well with the princess, and I’m proud of you.’
‘Thanks, Da,’ Billy said, and he gave me a grin that left me no option but to hug him.