Three Kings

by George R. R. Martin

  ‘So how do we prove it one way or the other?’ Noel asked.

  ‘Mitochondrial DNA to compare with Boyd-Brackenbury’s. So I need a sample of a close family relative. Margaret’s would be ideal—’

  ‘I am not grave-robbing the Queen or sneaking into the mortuary to take a little nip out of Richard,’ Noel snapped. ‘And right now I have got to take a piss, so let me know when you’ve decided on our next move.’

  Noel had almost made his escape when Turing’s voice stopped him. ‘Gloriana. You were acquainted. Go to her and bring me back a sample.’

  ‘Acquainted? I tried to seduce her. And why the hell would she give me a DNA sample that would cost her father the throne?’

  ‘Which is why your … acquaintance,’ Turing gave another little cough, ‘could be … helpful.’

  ‘So you want me to fuck the wife of the Norwegian monarch?’

  ‘We did train you for it,’ Turing said simply.

  ‘Among other things,’ Noel drawled. He sighed. ‘Fine, but I’ll need to do this tomorrow. It’s night now so I can’t summon the golden boy, and I don’t think Gloriana would be enticed by Lilith. Also my arm and ribs are killing me. And I’ve got to get some sleep.’

  ‘Time is of the essence,’ Turing responded.

  ‘And some of us are still just flesh and blood, Alan.’

  There were several good things about this bright, cold afternoon. The first being the sun. Second, Constance had cut the cast off Noel’s arm. While it throbbed it meant he could finally reach that annoying itch that had been driving him mad for the past two days.

  Their paired phones had revealed that Gloriana was not at Windsor. Instead she and her daughter were ensconced at Claridge’s prior to their return to Norway.

  It had been absurdly easy to arrange the meeting. Gloriana had expressed a desire to thank the man who had rescued her daughter. Turing had arranged a meeting. As he walked into the lobby and headed for the lifts Noel reflected on Turing’s final instructions.

  ‘Blood would be best, but saliva, hair, really almost anything will do for a sample.’

  Irritated, Noel had snarled, ‘How about I just wipe my cock when we’re finished?’

  Turing, pedantic as always, had frowned and said, ‘Your semen would complicate matters.’

  Noel had told him to factor it in. Assuming of course that Gloriana was even open to seduction. If not he would at least get a look at the rooms and could return later and try a little light burglary.

  There was discreet security in the hallway, but they had been told to expect Noel so he received a nod and one of the guards murmured into his throat mic. By the time Noel had reached the door it was opened by an efficient young woman in sensible heels, a knee-length skirt and a cardigan knotted around her shoulders. Her blouse was starched and pressed and almost as blue as her eyes.

  ‘Mr Grenville-Lacey, welcome.’ (Thanks to Turing’s eidetic memory Noel now had the name he had given Gloriana all those years ago.) ‘Her Highness is waiting for you.’ The woman had a pronounced Norwegian accent. ‘May I take your coat?’

  Noel relinquished the leather jacket and followed her to a set of sliding doors. A muted knock, a murmured Come in. The aide closed the door behind him.

  Gloriana was seated on a sofa but she stood and gave him a quizzical look. ‘So not an IT tech,’ she said.

  ‘I do have a few skills in that direction, but no. Do accept my apology for lying to you at our earlier meeting.’

  She looked better than when he had last seen her, but she had lost weight and the shadow of fear was still in her eyes. She waved away his apology. ‘Doesn’t matter. I understand you’re the agent who saved my daughter. I can never repay you for that.’

  She held out her hand and Noel touched the tips of her fingers, ‘It was my honour, ma’am,’ but he then clasped her hand in both of his. Her breath caught and a flush rose in her cheeks. ‘Forgive me, ma’am, but I’ve never forgotten you.’

  ‘We didn’t have much time together at Cambridge, did we?’ Her tone was an interesting combination of coquettish and regretful. She didn’t remove her hand and in fact stepped in closer to him.

  ‘No, ma’am. Life swept us apart.’

  ‘Only to bring us together now,’ she said. ‘Perhaps it’s kismet.’

  All of his practised words deserted him as Noel experienced an odd moment of shame. The woman was vulnerable, defenceless before the overwhelming sexuality of his avatar, and he was about to use her in the most callous way imaginable.

  He wondered if he could pull off a reverential Victorian request for a lock of her hair? Then decided he would sound like a complete prat. Also he didn’t do reverent and sincere all that well.

  Gloriana decided it for him. She pressed her body against his and gave him a gentle kiss on the lips. Their desperate need for proof swept away Noel’s brief moment of scruples and he swept her up into his arms while passionately kissing her.

  ‘Bedroom,’ he growled against her mouth.

  She threw out a hand indicating the correct door while frenziedly kissing him.

  At sixteen he had had no idea how to undress a woman. Now he did in ways designed to delight and arouse. They shared the task of removing his clothing. There was a moment when she first saw the scars and recoiled, but then recovered and gently drew her finger across them.

  ‘You have suffered in the service of our country,’ she said softly. He didn’t answer, just eased her onto the bed.

  The Helix had seen to it that he was trained in the art of love making by experts. In all of his forms he knew how to bring a woman or a man to an intense climax. He did so now. Her nails raked his back as she arched against him, their bodies slick with sweat. As he drove himself deep into her approaching his own orgasm the calculating part of his mind wondered if he would ever again make love to someone and not have it be a job or involving the exchange of money?

  With a hoarse groan he climaxed, shuddered, rolled off her and lay panting on top of the sheets. Gloriana propped herself up on an elbow, smiled down at him and ran her nails across his chest.

  ‘Was it worth the twenty-year wait?’ she teased.

  ‘Twenty-four years actually,’ Noel corrected then pulled her down and kissed her. ‘And very much worth it.’ He slid his hands down to cup her breasts.

  Gloriana sighed and gave a regretful shake of her head. ‘As much as I would like to test your stamina I think we had best end our tryst before Bodil begins to wonder.’

  ‘Completely understand, ma’am,’ Noel said. ‘Thank you, though, for this opportunity to make a young man’s dream come true.’ He rolled off the bed. ‘May I use your loo?’

  She nodded and he gathered up his clothes, headed into the bathroom and closed the door. A quick look around revealed a hairbrush. Noel pulled out a number of strands of her brown hair and placed them in an envelope, relieved to be spared having to secure more intimate samples. He then quickly washed, dressed and re-entered the bedroom.

  Gloriana had already returned to the sitting room. Her assistant, Bodil, was talking with her about the upcoming flight home to Oslo. Noel could only assume there was another bathroom or Bodil was the most discreet of discreet aides.

  Noel bowed his head. ‘Thank you, ma’am—’

  ‘No, thank you for the opportunity to properly thank you.’

  Alan carefully reached out a gloved hand and took the swab from Seizer. This was no proper lab, of course, but appropriate procedures could still be observed. When everything was falling apart, protocol could sometimes save the day – he’d seen that on the field of war, and Alan had precious little else to hold on to now. The machines were waiting for his input – hopefully not rubbish in this time. If Seizer were Elizabeth’s son – well, they would at least have a path forward. It wasn’t nothing.

  He started the analysis. Now it was just a matter of time.

  ‘Is that a rat?’ asked Noel suddenly. It might have been a joke to break the tension as everybody w
aited for the results of Turing’s test to come through. But he stared suspiciously into the corner where the ailing crow had twitched beneath its pile of old newspapers.

  Badb held it firm, ignoring the agony of its crippled wings until Noel turned away again. At least the bird’s spasm had shifted the papers enough so that now she could see out.

  Everybody in the basement room so far below her seemed nervous about the outcome of the test. Turing fretted over his machine, as though willing it to work faster. Noel and Maven stared daggers at each other. One day, surely, those daggers would become real.

  Bobbin and Constance leaned against a wall, close together, their shoulders touching in the tight confines of the basement, made all the more cramped by the towering, hunched figure of the Green Man, his body all but thrumming with tension.

  And finally, there was Seizer.

  He had a corner of the room all to himself, as if already they deferred to him.

  He grinned, his chest swollen like a rooster’s before a rival, his chin up proudly. This was his moment, and he knew it. A joker king, his heart more poisonous than his appearance could ever be. People would die to keep him from the throne, oh yes.

  Alan read the results from the screen, then turned the monitor to face the others. They crowded around, uncomfortably close, and he pulled back. Maven stood back from the others a few steps, but Seizer was practically vibrating with intensity, and the Green Man wasn’t much better. Constance took a quick glance, and then turned to face Alan.

  ‘Does that mean what I think it means?’

  The data didn’t lie. Everybody else might, but in the end, the one thing you could rely on were the facts. ‘Seizer is Philip’s son. There’s no trace of Elizabeth’s markers.’

  The Green Man sagged against the table, one hand reaching out to brace himself. ‘So that’s it, then. He’s not the bloody heir.’

  Seizer wasn’t speaking. He stood frozen, still grinning for several seconds after Turing broke the news. But Maven got it right away, Badb could see that.

  ‘Oh, you have got to be fucking kidding!’ she cried. Before anybody could react, a pistol was in her hand.

  ‘I wouldn’t,’ said Noel quietly.

  ‘No,’ she sneered. ‘You would not.’ Steady as any machine, she swung the barrel around until it was pointed in Turing’s face. ‘You couldn’t stand it, could you? You couldn’t stand to have a fucking joker in charge.’

  ‘That’s not—’ Turing stopped speaking as she stepped closer and pressed her gun against his lips. Noel had his good hand inside his jacket. As for the Green Man, he merely watched. The chances were that any bullets that found a mark today would only make him stronger.

  Finally, Seizer stirred himself. The skin on his face had turned almost as red as his blisters. He grabbed the page of the printout from Turing’s hands and began backing towards the door.

  ‘Come on, girl,’ he told Maven. ‘We have the proof here. Right here! We’ll find our own expert to look at it. They’re cheating us. And not just us, but every joker in Britain. In the world, even!’ He swung his index finger around, his eyes wild, his voice higher than normal. ‘Don’t try to stop us! Don’t even think about it. I have a power of my own that will make every one of you sorry.’

  He shoved Bobbin aside to get to the door. ‘I’m releasing this into the world. The jokers will rise up.’

  And with that, father and daughter were gone.

  ‘Well,’ drawled Noel. ‘I’m certain that’s the last we’ll ever hear of them.’

  But Badb was already following them as they ran out of the building. Such fury they had! It was most satisfactory.

  Noel, Turing and Constance stood at a table studying the list of names that Turing had hacked from the wild card database. Constance’s elderly beau had been quite dejected when Seizer had been revealed as a mere royal by-blow. He was busying himself at the camp stove, boiling water for tea. Personally, Noel could have used a whisky. Green Man had retired to the far side of the room. With the mask in place Noel couldn’t tell if he was as dejected as Bobbin or relieved that Seizer had been proven not to be the lost heir.

  Even though Seizer and Maven were gone Noel was very worried about Maven. She was trained, skilled, pissed as hell and dangerous … and he was injured. He had no idea how he was going to protect this gang of geriatrics, especially if they did manage to locate the actual heir.

  ‘He has to be here somewhere, assuming he hasn’t died in the intervening seventy-two years,’ Noel said.

  ‘Or been killed in the past two days,’ Constance added darkly and shot him a glare.

  Green Man joined them. ‘I could try talking to the nurse again.’ He didn’t sound hopeful.

  Constance turned on Noel. With her arms akimbo and her back stiff she reminded him of a bantam hen. ‘We’ve got this list, and you’ve got a power that you’re bloody well going to put to good use!’ She pointed towards the wall and the nation beyond. ‘Now you get out there and warn these people!’

  Even contemplating the shift into his male avatar had Noel wincing, but he sighed and nodded. ‘All right, though whether they will believe me …’

  ‘Let me go over the list, remove any who are deceased,’ Turing said. He smoothed the sheet of paper with nervous fingers. ‘That will save you some time.’

  ‘I’ll need an iPad with WiFi so I can access Google Maps. I haven’t been to some of these places.’

  Turing scanned the list – nothing out of the ordinary until one glaring omission leapt to the forefront. Bobbin wasn’t listed in the registry.

  Noel was complaining, Constance scolding. Bobbin stood off to the side a bit, trying to keep the peace. Likely a futile effort. Alan stepped up beside him and said quietly, ‘Bobbin? Can I have a word?’

  They walked a short distance away. ‘What is it, Turing?’

  ‘I’m not sure I understand how you ended up mixed up in all this.’

  ‘Well, it’s really just Constance, you know. I’d follow her anywhere.’ Bobbin hesitated and then said, ‘I heard about Sebastian. I’m sorry.’

  ‘Yes, well. Apparently we didn’t have what you two have. Have you been together long? Childhood sweethearts, perhaps?’

  Bobbin laughed. ‘Oh no. I grew up on the Queen Mary, just another joker kid in among the hideous throng.’

  ‘Your parents were jokers too?’

  ‘No parents for me, not until Handsome Harry adopted me.’

  The others had quietened down while they were talking, had finally noticed that Alan had pulled Bobbin aside. Constance opened her mouth, but Noel shook his head, and she closed it again. Bobbin continued his reminiscence, smiling. ‘Harold Hugesson was his real name; he’s the one who trained me as a tailor. He gave me his name, so I became Arthur Hugesson.’

  ‘Arthur. I see.’ Turing glanced at Noel, whose eyes had gone wide. Then he turned his attention back to Bobbin.

  ‘We had a decent little shop, Hugesson & Son. Nothing like as fancy as Constance’s place, of course. But these’ – Bobbin gestured with his needle-studded hands – ‘did come in useful there. I like being useful.’

  ‘Yes. Bobbin, I think I must ask something else of you now.’ Turing turned and took a swab from the rack, then presented it to Bobbin.

  The man’s pied face somehow managed to pale. ‘Oh no, Turing. You can’t be serious.’

  Alan placed the swab gently in Bobbin’s hand. ‘I think I have forgotten how to joke. Nothing is funny any more.’

  The basement room with its makeshift lab seemed an incongruous place for such a pronouncement. It should have echoed with the clarion call of trumpets and the voice of a sergeant-at-arms. Instead Turing’s voice had seemed as cold and muted as the space.

  The announcement had Green Man sinking down onto the battered couch as if his legs could no longer support him.

  Noel watched Bobbin … no, that nickname had to be lost, forever left behind. He watched Arthur’s eyes slide to Constance. His expression was impassi
ve, but those eyes could not hide his grief.

  Noel stepped forward and inclined his head. ‘Sir, how may I be of service?’

  Green Man recovered himself, stood, crossed to Arthur and took a knee. It should have been ludicrous. Instead it was oddly moving.

  Constance spun on her heel and left the room. Noel listened to the clatter of her heels as she ran up the stone steps.

  Arthur took two steps, only to be stopped by Turing. ‘Forgive me, sir, but duty calls and decisions must be made.’

  For an instant Noel thought Arthur would acquiesce then he gave a quick, small shake of his head. ‘And sometimes those have to wait on the demands of friendship,’ Arthur said. He followed Constance out of the door.

  Noel, Turing and Green Man gathered in a huddle. ‘So what the fuck are we going to do?’ Noel asked.

  A cold, dry chill slid up her back. She thought she might vomit as she watched Noel acknowledge Bobbin. No, he wasn’t Bobbin any more. Not her Bobbin. She couldn’t bear it.

  The sleet and snow had cleared off, but the cold remained. She welcomed it. It was real and it bit her skin and was something to hold on to now that her world had shifted. It was as if someone had pushed her hard into a new place. A place where her dearest friend and her love was no longer himself, but a royal – the royal – destined to sit on the throne and try to help mend a nation torn apart by hatred. And to her dismay, she thought he might be able to do it.

  After all, Bobbin was the most decent person she knew.

  The door to the old tenement building slammed behind her. She knew who it was. She didn’t have to look. Of course, he would be there. He had always been there.