Westmark

by Lloyd Alexander

  "That is correct, sir," the man replied. "It served its purpose. Alderman, though, carries more weight and substance. It conveys, you might say, the aroma of prosperity. It suits well enough at the moment."

  "Your choice of profession is up to you. Get on with your business. You say you have found a ghost raiser."

  "Ah, well, sir, perhaps I have and perhaps haven't."

  "I urge you," said Cabbarus, "to decide which, and to do so quickly."

  "Well, sir, you see it's a curious thing. A few months ago I was in Kessel, and I came upon a knave calling himself, if memory serves, Bloomsa. He took me for a greater fool than himself. He had the impudence to swindle me. Try to, that is."

  "And you, naturally, ended by swindling him."

  "As you say sir naturally." The man allowed himself a wink. "But that only begins the tale. I thought no more of him until a while after. I happened to be passing through a town called Felden. The local gossip was all about a fellow who had made quite a splash there. Some sort of flummery: spirit apparitions, a wench playing at being an oracle, and all such great nonsense.

  "He was doing well for himself until something happened, I don't know what. The wench, for some reason, turned skittish. In any case, the novelty wore off. But the fellow had run up a fortune in bills. His creditors started coming down on him. They'd have thrown him in jail. He saved them the trouble by leaving town one night-in something of a hurry. From what the Feldeners told me of him, I thought: Aha, here's Master Bloomsa up to another of his tricks.

  "The constables were still searching his lodgings. He and his crew had gone off so quickly, the constables thought they might find some valuables left behind. Out of curiosity, I did a little poking about, too.

  "It's a matter of nose, sir," continued the self-styled alderman, tapping his own. "My nose told me there might be something of interest, though I didn't know what. I trust my nose, sir, and always follow it. This time, I feared it disappointed me. There was nothing worth mention. Except one thing. I took it along. Again, I didn't know why. The nose advised me, very likely."

  The chief minister's patience had worn threadbare. He was about to tell the man to take his nose and himself to the devil. Then his visitor drew a rumpled sheet of paper from his cloak and spread it on the table.

  "The Feldeners tell me it's a good enough likeness." It was the portrait of a young girl. Only by effort was the chief minister able to compose himself.

  "And so, sir," the man was going on, "when I later heard you were looking for ghost-raisers, I wondered if our Master Bloomsa might be of some use after all, especially with the wench."

  Cabbarus barely heard him. He was engrossed in the portrait. Once more, his confidence had been justified. Opportunity always arose when it was needed. He suddenly understood how simple it was. He need no longer be concerned with forcing the queen's approval, or even being named adoptive heir. The answer lay within reach. Cabbarus nearly did something he had seldom done in all his life. He nearly laughed. Instead, he scowled with joy.

  "Where are they now?"

  The visitor shrugged. "There's the difficulty, sir. I didn't follow them, you see. Had I known you'd be wanting someone in that line of work, I'd have kept a finger on them. Now it may take some doing, as the trail is cold. And so I came to ask your instructions, sir. If you think it worth the time and toil-and the money."

  "Find them," said Cabbarus. "I want them."

  19

  Musket, clearly experienced in avoiding pursuit, did not trouble to ask their destination. He drove Friska at top speed and sent the coach careening through the outskirts of the town, deep into the countryside, up and down lanes hardly suitable for an oxcart. Justin, sprawled across the seat, was bleeding heavily. Mickle had torn a strip from her dress and, despite the jolting vehicle, tried to stanch the wound.

  Theo helped her, his hands moving mechanically. The girl barely spoke to him. His joy at finding her was gone. Half his thoughts were in Nierkeeping. He still saw the bodies in the square, and himself ready to fire the pistol. Justin, too, could have been killed. His bloody face was a silent reproach. Theo raged at himself. He should have pulled the trigger. He wanted to beg forgiveness. Unconscious, Justin could not have heard him.

  Musket, judging they had outdistanced any troopers who might have followed, reined up Friska and ran to ask Theo where he wanted to go. The dwarf had saved them and, at the same time, lost them. Theo climbed out and tried to regain his bearings in the unfamiliar countryside.

  Las Bombas took the opportunity to stretch his cramped legs. His uniform was wrinkled and befouled, his cheeks sunken. He had perked up enough, however, to brush the grit from his mustache.

  "You were right, my boy. Honesty is the best policy. That cage was a blessing in disguise. Public humiliation, private starvation! I vowed to mend my ways if ever I got free. My ordeal reduced me in body, but fortified me in spirit."

  Since Theo carried no food and there was none in the coach, Las Bombas had further occasion to fortify his spirit. He climbed back into the coach, resigned to the benefits of continued hunger. Justin had turned restless. Las Bombas held him in his arms and soothed him with a gentleness Theo had never suspected.

  Their only choice, Theo decided, was to circle back and, in spite of risk, find the Nierkeeping road. He jumped onto the box beside Musket and tried to guide him. Partly by luck, partly by the dwarf's own sense of direction, they finally came upon it. Theo recognized the finger post where Florian had turned. They followed the road into the hills. Even then, they would have missed the farm if some of Florian's men, stationed as guards, had not shown them the rest of the way.

  It was late afternoon when they rolled into the farmyard. Florian was in the doorway. Though obviously relieved to see them, he exchanged only the briefest greetings. He himself carried Justin into the house.

  Stock, Zara, and the others were sorting the captured weapons.

  The court physician had been standing by the fireplace. He went immediately to examine Justin's wound and called for clean bandages and a basin of water.

  "More bloodshed." Torrens glanced up at Florian. "I have seen enough of it this day."

  "So have I," said Florian. "You forget, I was at Nierkeeping, too. And let me remind you: You were not much impressed, yesterday, by our modest store of arms. Perhaps now you have changed your opinion. In any case, I lost three of my best men. Do your work, Doctor. I don't want to lose a fourth."

  Florian turned away. Seeing Mickle, he smiled and bowed gracefully. "So this must be the young lady in question?"

  "I didn't know there was any question about me," said Mickle. "This is Florian," said Theo. "Without him, you'd still be in jail."

  "And with him," replied Mickle, "we nearly got shot. He's dangerous."

  Florian laughed. "I sincerely hope I am. But only to my enemies. You're quite safe. I suggest you go along with Zara and see if she can find something better for you to wear."

  "We are in your debt, sir," put in Las Bombas. "I must say your line of 'work entails certain, ah, hazards. I should be glad to provide you with special remedies of my own preparation, at wholesale rates." When Florian declined the offer, Las Bombas turned his attention to the larder. Theo took Florian's arm. "There's something I have to know-about what happened this morning."

  "We couldn't have done without you," said Florian. "We needed that fracas of yours to draw off the garrison. You have your friends back; we have guns and horses. We paid a price. Does that still trouble you? Believe me, it could have been worse."

  "It's not only that. It's Justin. You saved his life."

  "Luckily. What of it?"

  "I should have. I was there beside him. I should have been the one to do it."

  Florian shook his head. "Justin won't worry over who takes the credit."

  "If anything," replied Theo, "he'll be proud it was you. But the man was right in front of me. I had the pistol."

  "And you held back," said Florian. "I saw you. Bewa
re, youngster. Next time, don't hesitate. It may cost your life."

  "But you," said Theo. "You didn't hesitate. You shot him without having to think."

  "Some things are best not thought about."

  "I have to," said Theo. "I have to understand. You know what happened in Dorning. I swore then I'd never try to take another man's life. Killing is wrong. I believed that. I still do. But now I wonder. Do I believe it because I want to be a decent man? Or because I'm a coward?"

  "In which case, you're no different from the rest of us." Florian gave a wry smile. "We're all afraid. And afraid of being afraid. You'll get used to it."

  "I don't want to get used to it," cried Theo. "If I'd really known what it would be like."

  "You wouldn't have gone to Nierkeeping? Would you rather see your friends still in jail? Starving in a cage? And even if you'd shot that officer, what then? Half his trade is killing; the other half, being killed."

  "The first day I met you," said Theo, "at Rina's birthday party, you said there was only one law, that all men are brothers."

  Florian nodded. "Yes. And sometimes brothers kill each other. For the sake of justice. For the sake of a higher cause."

  "Who decides what's right? Me? You? Dr. Torrens? He's against you. He holds with the monarchy. But he seems a good and honorable man."

  "He is," answered Florian. "Curious that being a commoner he should take that side. Perhaps he knows less of it than I do. I can tell you of peasants flogged half to death, forced to weed a noble's garden while their own crops rot in the ground, having their cottages pulled down to make room for a deer park. I know the aristocracy better than Torrens ever can. I was born into it.

  "Yes," Florian went on, smiling at Theo's astonishment. "You might recognize my family's name if I mentioned it, which, by the way, I have no intention of doing. This farm is theirs. They've forgotten they even own it, among so many others. They would be highly displeased if they knew the purpose it served.

  "As for Torrens thinking merely to correct abuses he is almost as innocent as you are. Abuse is in the very grain of the monarchy's power. And I can tell you one thing more. Men give up many things willingly: their fortunes, their loves, their dreams. Power, never. It must be taken. And you, youngster, will have to choose your side. Though I assure you the monarchy will be as unsparing with its enemies as I am, at least there is justice in my cause."

  "Even if the cause is good," said Theo, "what does it do to the people who stand against it? And the people who follow it?"

  "Next time you see Jellinek," said Florian, "ask him if he's ever found a way to make an omelet without breaking eggs."

  "Yes," Theo said. "Yes, but men aren't eggs."

  20

  Dr. Torrens was calling Florian, who left Theo unanswered and went anxiously to the court physician.

  "The lad is in no danger now," said Torrens, rolling down his sleeves. He had taken off the sling and crammed it into his pocket. "Though I fear he will be badly scarred."

  "We may all be," said Florian. He strode to the table and called the rest to join him.

  "My children," he said to Stock and Zara, "we'd best take leave of each other for a while. Our worthy opponents in Nierkeeping had too close a look at me. After today's business, I can't even risk staying in Freyborg. You two should be safe enough there. For me, the wiser course is to disappear. Better to be wanted than found. Give my greetings to Jellinek. Tell him I shall miss those concoctions he fancifully calls stew. You shall have word from me later. Take some of the muskets. We shall find a good hiding place for the remainder. Justin will stay with me. Luther, too."

  He turned to the court physician. "And you, Doctor? We have our differences. I suggest, for the time being, we bury them-if you will forgive my using the term with a physician. We are both marked men. If caught, we shall be equally dead. We can agree on that much."

  Torrens nodded. "Who knows, you may change your views, or I, mine. I judge either unlikely. Indeed, sir, the day may come when we find each other very bad companions. Until then, I shall go with you."

  "Since I've brought Dr. Torrens this far," put in Keller, "I think the time has come for the Bear to go into hibernation; and for Old Kasperl to make his way with the doctor and yourself."

  "Old Kasperl would keep us amused," said Florian. "But if he is silenced, then Cabbarus might as well have hanged you. You would do greater service if you kept on with your journal."

  "Gladly," said Keller. "But without the means, it is impossible. For one thing, I would have to stay hidden."

  "Old Kasperl and the Bear can find a safe lair in Freyborg," said Florian. "Trust my children for that."

  "Even so, a journalist is nothing without a press. Nothing, sometimes, with one. But it is essential to the trade."

  "You shall have a press in Freyborg," replied Florian. "Whether you may also have a printer."-he glanced at Theo "leave it up to this young man. He may want to talk over the matter with his friends. Do it quickly, youngster. We must all be gone before daybreak:"

  "Meantime," said Las Bombas, wiping his plate clean with a slice of bread, "I should welcome an opportunity for professional discourse with a colleague."

  "Do you refer to me, sir?" Torrens raised an eyebrow. "I was not aware that we were colleagues in any way at all."

  "We are both men of science," the count replied. "That is, in our respective endeavors. My present endeavor is for my coachman and me to leave the country at the earliest possible moment. I feel things are pressing in upon us a little too closely for comfort. Trebizonia, a realm long familiar to me during my attendance on the prince, will surely welcome my services."

  Mickle and Zara had come into the room. Zara had given the girl an old woolen skirt, a man's jacket, and a shawl. Zara went to Florian's side. Mickle strode out of the farmhouse. Leaving Las Bombas to expound his scientific discoveries to the court physician, Theo followed her.

  Dusk was gathering quickly. The trees had not yet dropped all their leaves and the ragged branches laid heavy shadows across the yard. He heard Musket working in the stables and Friska whinnying among the tethered horses.

  Mickle stood near the well. She had pulled the shawl closer around her shoulders. He called to her. The girl turned and looked coolly at him. She had grown even thinner. The oversized garments seemed to hold a bundle of sticks.

  "Florian wants me to go back to Freyborg," Theo began. "That's where I've been living, since-"

  "Since you ran off without so much as a fare-thee well," said Mickle. "You had me thinking you liked me. Next thing I knew, you were gone."

  "I didn't want to leave."

  "Then why did you?"

  "I thought it was best. There's a lot you don't know about me."

  "I doubt it," Mickle said. "The count told me why you took up with him. Zara told me the rest."

  "Well, then you see why I couldn't ask you to come with me. I'm a criminal; the police are looking for me. I could be arrested any time. By now, I suppose, I would have been. If Florian hadn't helped me."

  "The police are looking for everybody I know," Mickle said. "That's not much of a reason."

  "For me it is. Suppose they'd caught me? They'd have arrested you, too."

  "It's happened before. I'm used to it."

  "I'm not. I'm not used to anything that's happened to me. I'm not used to hoaxing gullible people, or pretending to be a High Brazilian savage."

  "You were very good at it." Mickle grinned for the first time since their meeting.

  "That's the trouble, don't you see? When I ran into the count, I thought it would be a chance to see the rest of the world. That's really what I wanted. Not swindling people with elixirs made from ditch water, or claiming to raise ghosts. Least of all, trying to kill someone. But I've done all that. Even getting you out of jail, I lied like a thief. Worse, it didn't bother me at all. What kind of person does that make me?"

  "No different from anyone else," Mickle said. "Did you think you were?" "I don't know. I d
on't know what I am anymore."

  "Tell me when you find out," said Mickle. "As you're so itchy to go traveling, I suppose you'll run off again."

  "That can wait. I have work to do in Freyborg now."

  "That's fine for you," said Mickle. "You needn't wonder what becomes of me."

  "I thought-I took it for granted you'd stay with the count and Musket."

  "You could ask, at least."

  "Will you come to Freyborg with me?"

  Theo heard his own voice, not from his lips but seeming to come from the bottom of the well. Taken aback for an instant, he realized it was Mickle. The girl was laughing.

  "I'm not the phrenological head," protested Theo, laughing himself. "You needn't put words in my mouth."

  "You weren't putting them there yourself."

  "All right," said Theo. "Will you come with me? What else happens, I don't care. Florian wants to bring down the monarchy, Torrens wants to patch it up, the count's off to humbug the Trebizonians. All I want is-I don't want us to be apart any more."

  He thought she was still laughing at him when he put his arms around her. He was surprised to dis cover, then, what he had not been able to see in the dark. The girl's cheeks were wet.

  "It's bad enough crying when I'm asleep," said Mickle. "Why should I do it when I'm awake?"

  21

  At first light, Florian and his party said their farewells. Justin, bandaged and pale but looking very proud, had been given one of the cavalry mounts. Florian sat astride a bay mare with a blanket for a saddle.

  "Do well, youngster," he said to Theo. "I count on you for that."

  Theo watched them ride from the farmyard. Florian had still not given him the honor of calling him his child. Theo was uncertain whether to be sorry or glad.

  Zara, Stock, and Keller left soon after. Theo and Mickle would have gone in the cart with them, but Las Bombas, for the sake of old times, insisted on driving them to Freyborg in the coach. While Musket hitched up Friska, Theo stayed at Mickie's side. The two had not ceased talking since breakfast, using Mickle's private sign language, so none of the company realized they were in fact chattering like a pair of magpies.