“I didn’t want to believe it myself,” said Simon. “But it’s true.”
He picked up a folder and tossed the file in Randolph’s lap. “I will not take the time to describe the tortuous and twisted trail of my investigations, but I now know for a fact that the ‘Old Chap,’ as Henry calls his brother, has been leading a double life. For forty years, he has been plotting with this group to restore an heir of James the First to the throne.”
“Henry’s own brother?” Randolph gaped. “A traitor?”
“In Sir Richard’s defense, he and the Faithful have always maintained that Queen Mary’s forebears were the ones who usurped the throne and that she has no right to it. The Faithful have a cogent argument. According to history—”
“Spare me!” said Alan hastily.
Simon smiled. “Suffice it to say, Smythe is using their sincere and earnest beliefs to manipulate them into doing his dirty work.
“Even now, as we speak, Prince Thomas is a secret guest in Richard’s house. The prince traveled to Freya to meet with Queen Mary, at her behest. Her Majesty plans to name him her heir. The moment she does that, she is doomed. Smythe will not wait. He and the Faithful—including Henry’s unwitting brother—will have the queen arrested and locked up in Offdom Tower. I suspect Smythe means to do worse. They will plunge the country into chaos, perhaps even civil war.”
“Good God!” Alan murmured.
“We have to stop them!” Randolph stated. “Not just goddamn sit here!”
“And what would you do to stop them, Randolph?” Simon asked impatiently. “Smythe’s army numbers in the thousands. His soldiers have infiltrated every army post in Freya and more troops are en route to Haever from Bheldem. He has armed his soldiers with the latest in weaponry, as I have good reason to know, for it was a stolen shipment of pistols with those new rotating barrels that led me to Richard.”
“We have to do something!” Randolph insisted.
“We might be able to stop Smythe and the Faithful by exposing the plot,” Simon said, as he regarded them both steadily. “But you know what that means.”
“We would have to expose Henry’s brother as a traitor,” said Alan.
“Expose him, then!” Randolph said, glaring at both of them. “Arrest the bastard! Hang him!”
“Think what you are saying, Randolph,” said Simon grimly. “Hang Richard and you hang Henry. Our friend has enemies in court who would be glad to see him brought low. They will claim he is involved in the plot.”
“But Henry detests Prince Thomas!” Randolph argued. “He calls him the Pretender!”
Simon waved his hand. “Forget Prince Thomas. People will say Henry intended to seize the throne for his son. His wife is in the line of succession, after all. Even if Henry escaped the noose, he would still be ruined. He would have to endure the public humiliation of his brother’s trial, see him go to prison, perhaps to the gallows.…”
“All right, all right. I understand. I don’t like it, but I understand.”
Randolph rose to his feet and marched up and down a few times, as though he was back on the quarterdeck. “You both realize that a bullet in Smythe’s goddamn skull would bloody well stop all this.”
“Randolph has a point,” said Alan.
Simon raised his eyebrows. “Murder him?”
“I didn’t mean that,” Alan said. “But we could at least apprehend him. I could lock him up in the brig on board the Terrapin. Then we confront Richard with the truth about Smythe. He would realize he’s been duped. That would put an end to the conspiracy.”
Simon considered. “Much would depend on Prince Thomas. If he is, as I believe, innocent of all knowledge of what Smythe intends to do, His Highness could put a stop to it. The Faithful would listen to him.”
“How do you know His Highness is so bloody innocent?” Randolph asked.
“I have made inquiries, and from the reports I have received, Thomas Stanford is an estimable young man who would never willingly participate in such a plot. His adviser is the Countess de Marjolaine.”
“Rosian spymaster and our longtime enemy,” Alan pointed out.
“True, but she serves a king and would never consent to the violent overthrow of a monarch. She read Mr. Sloan’s report on Smythe and was so concerned, she has reportedly left Rosia and is on her way to Haever.”
Simon drew out his pocket watch. “Albright is supposed to pick Henry up at eleven of the clock. What do we tell him? We need a plan.”
Alan marshaled his thoughts. “What is the date?”
“The twenty-eighth,” said Randolph.
“Richard is a member of the House of Nobles. They are not in session and so he will be at home, for he never goes anywhere except Parliament and the palace. Once we have informed Henry, we will travel to Richard’s home. Henry will talk to Richard, tell him the truth about Smythe, and urge him to help. He will tell us where to find him and we will take him prisoner.”
“What if Richard doesn’t believe us?” asked Simon.
“The man has a wife, grown children and grandchildren,” Alan said. “We will tell him to think of his family.”
Simon was dubious. “Richard has had years to think about his wife and family and thus far such considerations have not deterred him from this dangerous course of action. Still, I believe that plan is as good as any. We should proceed with it.”
“Now all we need to do is convince Henry that Richard is involved with the Faithful,” said Alan, shaking his head. “He won’t want to believe you.”
“Thus, the file,” said Simon. “The evidence I have amassed against his brother is damning. Richard foolishly put his signature to a great many compromising documents. I fear the Old Chap is not very adept at treason.”
A clock on the lower level began to chime the hour, ringing eleven times. The friends looked at each other, all thinking the same thing.
“Albright will be arriving at Henry’s house now,” Simon observed. “Our friend should be here within the half hour.”
“We might as well be prepared to deal with Smythe once we find him,” said Alan, rising to his feet. He needed something to do, something to keep him occupied. “Where are those pistols Albright keeps for emergencies, Simon?”
“Bottom drawer of that file cabinet behind Randolph,” Simon replied.
Alan located the pistols, powder, and shot and started to clean and load the weapons.
“I cannot bear the thought of facing Henry,” he said as he worked. “Even if we manage to stop this terrible plot and hush up Richard’s involvement, Henry will have to live with the knowledge that his brother is a traitor.”
“I fear you are right,” said Simon. “Henry has dedicated his life to the service of his queen and country. Richard’s betrayal will cut deep, inflict wounds that can never heal. Every time he looks at us, he’ll think ‘My friends know my shame.’ He will wonder if we secretly despise him.”
“I wish to God we didn’t have to be the ones to tell him!” said Randolph.
“Henry knows us,” said Simon. “He knows we will stand by him. We’ve been through a lot together. I nearly died. Alan lost his hand.”
“I lost my hair,” said Randolph, running his hand over his balding head.
They laughed and felt better. Their friendship was strong. The bonds would survive.
“See if you can find that bottle of Aqua Vitae,” said Simon. “Filed under ‘V.’”
A clock in the entry hall rang the quarter hour. Alan finished loading the pistols and placed them on top of a file cabinet. He hunted down the bottle of Aqua Vitae and poured each of them a drink.
Simon shook his head. “None for me, thanks.”
Alan drank his swiftly; the fiery, caraway-flavored liquid burned in his throat. He began reading through the contents of the file Simon had compiled and poured himself another drink.
Randolph joined him, standing behind him, reading over his shoulder.
The clock chimed the half hour.
“Henry and Albright should be here any moment,” said Simon.
Alan gathered up the various papers and documents and placed them back in the file, then laid it on the desk.
“I’ll go downstairs, to wait for him,” said Randolph.
He clumped ponderously down the stairs. Alan walked over to the window to watch for the carriage. Welkinstead had drifted south of Haever, past the suburbs, into the open country. The lights of the city were visible to the north. Five hundred feet below the house, the land was dark, for they were gliding over forests and fields.
Alan and Simon were silent, waiting tensely. Neither felt like talking.
The clock chimed three quarters of the hour. They looked at each other worriedly.
“Albright should have been back by now,” said Simon.
“Maybe Henry wasn’t home,” said Alan.
“Maybe,” said Simon, but he didn’t sound convinced.
The clock chimed midnight and still Albright had not returned, nor had Henry come.
Simon sighed and turned away from the window.
“This is bad. Very bad,” he said. “I was too late.”
TWO
Alan hurried around Simon’s desk to the telescope that stood in the center of the window and trained it north on the city of Haever.
“I have no idea what you expect to see from here,” said Simon.
“Something! Anything to tell me what the hell is happening!” said Alan, frustrated. “Albright has the carriage, which means we’re trapped in this goddamned house.”
Simon was silent. Alan realized what he had said and looked around.
“I am sorry, Simon. I didn’t mean—”
“Never apologize for the truth,” said Simon. “We are trapped here. If I had known … If I’d had some idea…”
“It’s Henry!” Randolph bellowed from the entry hall, his shout booming throughout the house.
Alan grabbed two of the pistols and ran as fast as he dared down the cluttered stairs, reaching the front door just as Randolph flung it open. Henry dove inside. He was disheveled and dirty, covered in dust, with dried blood splattered on his face and his clothes. He wore no hat, his hair hung loose about his face, and his stockings were torn.
He had flown here by griffin, apparently, for Alan could see the beast bounding off the landing platform, spreading its wings and taking to the sky.
Henry shoved his way past Randolph. “Shut that door and douse the light!”
They did not waste time with questions. Alan slammed the door shut as Randolph touched the construct on the lamp and the magical light died, leaving them in darkness.
“Where is Simon?” Henry demanded.
“Upstairs, where he always is.”
“Fetch Albright,” said Henry. “I need him to bring the carriage round.”
“Albright isn’t here and neither is the carriage. He went to your house to fetch you!”
“Damn and blast!” Henry swore. “If he went to my house, he’s probably either dead or under arrest! I barely escaped.”
“Henry, what the—”
“I will explain later. We must first deal with a black ship armed with a green-beam gun.”
Randolph demanded, amazed, “How is that possible? Those accursed weapons were destroyed in the goddamn war!”
“Apparently, they missed one,” said Henry. “This same black ship attacked the palace. The queen…” He paused, swallowed. “The queen is dead.”
“Dead!” Alan repeated, aghast. “What? Are you sure?”
Henry stared at him, grim-faced. Alan saw the blood on his clothes and his hands. “Oh, my God, Henry, I’m sorry—”
“Damn it, where is Simon?”
Henry shouldered past them and ran toward the stairs, shouting for his friend, only to be met by Simon coming out of his office. He halted his floating chair on the landing.
“Henry, I heard. I am so sorry—”
“The hell with that now!” Henry said, his voice rasping. “What matters is keeping you alive. This blasted house is built with magic. If that contramagic beam hits it, the whole damn house could disintegrate! You saw what it did to my house.”
He bounded past Simon and into his office, shouting, “Kill the lights!”
Simon spoke a word and the lamps in the office went dark. Henry was trying to grope his way through the forest of filing cabinets until Simon came to his rescue, lighting a small lamp he had mounted on his chair.
“Why would the ship attack me?” Simon asked, following Henry. “It doesn’t make sense. Only you and a few others know I secretly work for the government—”
“My brother, Richard, told him,” said Henry.
Reaching the window, he stared out into the night.
“You know about Richard,” said Simon.
“That he is a traitor? Yes, I know,” Henry said bitterly. “Right now, we must protect you.”
He pressed his face against the glass as Alan and Randolph joined him. “I can’t see a damn thing! But then the black ship is moving slowly. Our pirate friend, Captain Kate, managed to damage one of the airscrews.”
“There it is,” said Alan, pointing.
The ship itself was difficult to see in the darkness, but they could see the running lights and the ominous green glow of the contramagic on the barrel of the gun.
Alan remarked, “The ship is in range of the house. I am surprised they have not opened fire.”
“Smythe would have given them orders to take me alive,” said Simon.
Henry angrily rounded on him.
“Smythe! Why the devil do you keep talking about Smythe? That blackguard, Prince Thomas, is the man responsible for assassinating the queen!”
“You are wrong, Henry, as I have tried to tell you before,” said Simon sharply. “Now you must listen to me. I have evidence that this man, Smythe, used Prince Thomas to advance his own cause. Mr. Sloan’s own evidence attests to the truth, if you will only pay heed. Prince Thomas is in danger. He is as much Smythe’s victim as our beloved queen.”
Henry stood rigid, his face pale and haggard.
“You know I’m right,” said Simon. “I can see it in your face.”
“The countess told me the same,” said Henry. “Her Majesty met with the young man and named him her heir. She asked me to serve him as faithfully as I had served her.…”
He fell silent, pressed his lips together. His fist clenched.
“The prince needs you, Henry,” said Simon.
“I will think about it,” said Henry.
“How valuable is Simon?” Randolph asked. Seeing the others look at him, he added, flushing, “Goddamn it! You know what I mean! Simon is valuable to us, but I was wondering how valuable he would be to Smythe?”
“Very valuable,” Simon answered. “I have key information on every government official of every government on Aeronne, not to mention the thousands of secrets locked in these file cabinets.”
“Which means they won’t blow up the house,” said Alan matter-of-factly. “They will have orders to secure Simon first, then search it.”
“That must be their plan, for they are about to launch a ship’s boat,” said Randolph, peering through the telescope. “I cannot see how many soldiers are boarding, but a boat that size usually carries about six men.”
“They don’t expect resistance, or they would send more,” said Alan. “I doubt they know Randolph and I are here. Henry, did they catch sight of you?”
Henry thought back. “I rode on griffinback and the ship was still some distance away. I don’t think they could have seen me.”
“Then they believe I am here alone or, at most, with a manservant,” said Simon.
“We need weapons—” said Henry.
“Pistols are already loaded,” said Randolph, pointing to the weapons on top of the nearest file cabinet.
“I don’t suppose Albright keeps a rifle somewhere?” asked Henry.
“Just pistols,” said Simon.
�
�You do realize that once they know we will not give up without a fight, they will open fire on the house,” said Henry. “Even if Welkinstead crashed to the ground, they might be able to salvage something.”
“Too bad this bloody house can’t really fly,” Randolph grumbled. “Is there anything you can do to move us out of range of that blasted gun?”
Simon snorted. “This house weighs several hundred tons. Welkinstead can go up, down, and sideways, moving at about eight thousand feet per hour. But don’t worry, gentlemen. I have made arrangements to magically destroy the file cabinets and the documents they contain, should I ever be captured.”
Henry glanced at the others. “He means igniting a magical conflagration that will consume the house and everything and everyone inside it.”
Alan smiled. “I don’t think much of that idea myself.”
“To be used as a last resort,” Simon said gravely. “The house has magical defenses similar to those found on board a ship. As you recall, I reinforced the magic several years ago, following the discovery of the Seventh Sigil.”
“Will the magic withstand a green beam?” Henry asked.
“Perhaps for a short time,” said Simon. “I must confess that I never anticipated coming under attack from one. I thought they had all been destroyed in the war.”
“We need to find some way to sink that bloody ship,” Henry said.
“We have a way,” Simon cried triumphantly. “The duchess’s rockets! You remember, Henry!”
“Good God!” Henry exclaimed. “The rockets on the roof! I had forgotten all about them.”
“Not surprising,” said Alan. “She installed them there over twenty years ago.”
Following the attack that had paralyzed Simon, the duchess had declared that she would never again go unprepared. She had purchased rockets and launching tubes and mounted them on the roof.
“Do the rockets still work?” Alan asked doubtfully.
“They do,” said Simon. “Albright fires them off every year on the queen’s birthday.”
“Then it will be fitting that we fire them tonight in Her Majesty’s memory,” said Henry.
THREE
Kingmaker (The Dragon Corsairs) Page 2