Redemption

by Philip E. Batt

curtseyed, smiling at Kateryn.

  'We are both very pleased, and excited, naturally,' Frederick said. 'In fact,' he beamed, looking around the faces of everyone in the room, 'all seems well in the world at long last.'

  'Even better still, Sire,' Winterburne said, 'since Alyssa and I are to be married.' He looked down at Alyssa, a look of surprise passing her face for a moment and then she looked back and grinned widely.

  'Hah!' Frederick laughed, pointing at Winterburne and then turning to beam at Kateryn. 'What did I tell you?' he said, to her. 'Splendid!' He clapped his hands together and turned back to face the couple. 'But, hold on one moment. Don't I seem to remember you telling me that you thought that no one would have time for you.'

  'Yes...well...clearly I was wrong about that.' Winterburne smiled at Alyssa, who stood on her tip-toes and stretched up to kiss him on the cheek.

  'And a finer couple I have never seen, I am sure,' Kateryn said, as she approached them. 'I am very pleased for you both.'

  The Empress waddled towards Frederick, grimacing as she took his arm.

  'Are you alright?' Frederick asked. He looked concerned as he drew close to his wife.

  'Stop fussing, Frederick,' Kateryn said, 'it was only a kick.' She looked up at the Emperor. 'So,' she added, 'are you going to ask him?'

  'Yes,' Frederick said, with a sideways glance. 'I was going to. If you but give me a chance, woman.'

  'Well go on then,' the Empress added, 'stop dithering.'

  They both glared at each, other staring each other out, and then Fredrick winked at his wife.

  Winterburne was puzzled. Whatever the Emperor was about to say was a mystery to him.

  'I've never been a man to waste words, Winterburne, as you well know,' Frederick said, 'or to wrap them up in flowery verse, so I'll just say it. It seems that I still have a vacancy that needs filling and I want you to be my Lord Chamberlain.'

  Alyssa's hands went her mouth and she gasped and a whole range of thoughts rushed through Winterburne's mind, mostly about how he might not possibly be able to accept.

  'Sire,' he said, 'I do not know what to say. I am flattered, but...surely I do not possess the knowledge or experience to advise you on the running of an Empire? Isn't there someone more—'

  'Nonsense,' Frederick replied. 'It's not knowledge and advice that I need, man. I had the chance to appoint my own Chamberlain when my father died, but I didn't, and look where that got me. This time, I need someone I can trust,' he looked down at Kateryn as she tucked herself under his arm, 'that we can trust.' He placed his hand on the Empress's stomach. 'All of us.'

  'I'm am truly honoured, Your Highness,' Winterburne looked at Alyssa, and then back to Frederick, 'and may I say a little surprised.'

  Draper approached Frederick and handed him an envelope that he passed on directly to Winterburne.

  Winterburne frowned, puzzled as he took it.

  'Your letters of authority,' Frederick said.

  'But I haven't agreed yet.'

  'Oh, Lord Winterburne,' Frederick said, 'you will. Your decision was never in any doubt. At least not in my mind.'

  'But how could you be so sure?'

  'Because, I have changed the scope of the role to assume the control of security for the whole of the Empire.' Frederick held up the note that Ysabel had sent. 'And besides, certain people agree with me, and seem to think that you are eminently qualified for higher office.'

  Winterburne felt himself blush.

  'With that in mind,' Frederick added, 'I assume that one of your first decisions will be to appoint a new Captain of the Watch?'

  Winterburne ignored the question as Frederick's words sunk in. He smiled. 'When you say, for the whole of the Empire, Sire, does that mean the Imperial Guard, too?'

  Frederick grinned.

  'Oh dear,' Winterburne chuckled. 'He will not like that.'

  oOo

  Winterburne swept into the Reception Hall of the Headquarters of the Imperial Guard; he was a breeze bringing with him a change in the air, signalling a storm to come, for some people at least. The secretary looked up as he entered, surprise on his face.

  'There's no need to get up,' Winterburne said, as he passed the desk and headed for the flight of steps that would take him to the first floor and Martell's office.

  The secretary rose from his seat abruptly, 'Wait!' he called after Winterburne, 'You cannot go up there. You do not have an appointm—'

  But Winterburne had already reached the steps and raced up them two at a time, reaching the top just as the secretary followed behind him, his foot hitting the first stair.

  'Captain!' the soldier called. 'I really must insist that you wait!'

  Winterburne turned the handle of Martell's office door and pushed his way inside. The secretary still followed as close behind as he could.

  'What's the meaning of this?' Martell pushed himself upright from where he was sitting behind his desk as the two of them made their way into the room. His face was creased into a deep frown.

  'I'm sorry, Sir,' the secretary said, 'but the Captain was most insistent.'

  Martell held up his hand and waved the secretary away. 'What do you want, Winterburne? You can't just barge your way into my office.'

  'Well,' Winterburne said, 'I think you'll find that I can.

  He smiled and made his way to Martell's desk, tossing the Emperor's letter of authority onto the table, before turning to sit in one the two large padded visitor's chairs that Martell liked to keep polished.

  Martell picked up the letter as Winterburne watched and he unfolded the page, reading the words penned by the Emperor's scribe. His face reddened and a vein rose in his forehead; it began to pulse but the man remained silent. He folded the page again, pushing it back across the tabletop towards Winterburne, pursing his lips as he looked over at him.

  'I'd like a weekly report,' Winterburne said, 'and I will expect you to present the report in person, once every two weeks, in my office in the Palace.'

  Martell slumped into his own chair and nodded. 'Very well,' he said.

  Winterburne rose from the chair. 'Good,' he said, 'I'm glad that we understand each other, William. I think you'll find that I am a fair man, so I look forward to cultivating our relationship further in its new direction.'

  He walked over to the door and pulled it open. Then he turned to face Martell.

  'And, incidentally,' he said, 'I think you need to formally recognise what Rampton did to protect the Queen. Out of all the deeds that were done in the name of the Emperor, his were the most likely to have been those that protected the peace between our two nations. A medal, or promotion, or something like that should be sufficient. I'll leave the details to you.'

  Martell stood. 'Yes...Lord Chamberlain.'

  'Good,' Winterburne smiled. 'Then I'll look forward to hearing your recommendations.'

  oOo

  The old place hadn't changed one bit, Winterburne thought, as he approached the Watch Headquarters from the street. Although, it did somehow look a little more...what exactly was it? Polished? He pushed open the door; it swung inwards silently, no trace of a squeak from the ageing hinges. The main hallway seemed different too. For a start, it had been painted, and where the handle of the main doors had crashed, repeatedly, into the wall over the years a metal plate had been fitted to stop the damage from happening again.

  There was no sign of damp at the base of the walls either, and a clean carpet runner led away towards the far end of the corridor. He crept towards his old office where the the door stood ajar. Through the crack he could see Cromwell working away at his papers as he sat at the desk. His desk, he thought.

  He pushed the door open wide and Cromwell looked up, surprised and startled for a moment until he recognised who it was that had interrupted him.

  'Sir!' Cromwell stood. He placed his pen down on the worktop and saluted.

  'Oh, sit down Milo, I don't hold with all that ass-sniffing. Relax man.'

  'I heard you were back, and
about your...promotion. I am so pleased for you, all the men are talking about it.'

  'Thank you.'

  Winterburne's old chair had been moved to the corner of the room and Cromwell had replaced it with a brand new one.

  'Alyssa must be excited,' Cromwell said.

  'She is,' Winterburne nodded. 'In fact, she's gone to be measured for some new dresses.'

  'A wedding dress?'

  Winterburne chuckled. 'Not just yet. We haven't talked about a date. But, it wouldn't be seemly for the Chamberlain's wife to be seen wearing old clothes, would it? She has gone to the market to spend some of my money.'

  Cromwell laughed.

  Winterburne continued, 'I can't help feeling a little nervous about the new job, though. It remains to be seem whether the office of Lord Chamberlain turns out to be a poisoned chalice.'

  He frowned and walked across to his old chair, dragging it back to the middle of the room, near the desk. He sat, and lifted his feet to rest them on the desk.

  'You can't believe that, Sir, surely?'

  'No, I suppose not. But it hasn't quite sunk in, if I'm honest.'

  Cromwell nodded, pausing for a moment. 'It couldn't have been an easy task. I mean, what you did, I've not heard the detail, but...' He paused, and after a moment said, 'So how are you? Really?'

  'Thirsty, Milo. I'm thirsty.'

  Cromwell stepped out from behind his desk. 'I'll go make us a pot of tea,' he said.

  'That would be good.' Winterburne nodded at Cromwell.

  He watched Cromwell cross the room and step out into the hallway, heading for the kitchen. As soon as the kitchen door closed behind Cromwell, Winterburne jumped up from the chair and crept