Circle of Shadows caw-4

by Imogen Robertson

  ‘That not strike you as unusual?’

  ‘Young girls can be flighty.’

  ‘See much of your father, do you?’ Michaels asked, looking about him.

  ‘Our relations are a little strained. Not surprising, given his eccentricities. I took what he taught me of his arts and have created the best cosmetics in Europe. Do you have a wife? I have a skin cream that will make her look as fresh as she did on the morning of your marriage! I can create scents to charm a hermit from his cave, rouge that looks as natural as the blush on a rose. I make the world a better place and he despises me for it. He thinks himself superior because all he has become is scarred and poor, while I am rich.’

  He tossed his head and Michaels stood up. The man looked as if he were made of china, his pointed little chin aiming at the air, his ridiculous quiff. This is what has come of his father’s lifetime of work then, he thought. Money enough to stuff a man’s shoulders with horsehair.

  ‘He taught you then?’

  ‘Not as such. I never spent enough time curled up over his damned books to be thought worth teaching. But I watched in my youth and that’s how I learned. He talks to himself as he tends his furnace.’

  ‘Thank you. But I like the way my wife looks right now.’ Michaels turned towards the door. Kupfel stood holding out his hand.

  ‘Perhaps if you could leave by the back way? We wouldn’t want you to have another sneezing fit, now would we?’

  IV.5

  Crowther had not yet returned to the palace, and Rachel and Graves had once more headed up towards Castle Grenzhow. Harriet tried to read, briefly, and considered to whom she should write, and what she could or should say, then picked up her cloak once more and headed for the gardens. Her footsteps took her towards the automata-makers. Her theft of the file was not mentioned. News of the demonstration of the mask had drifted up the hill towards them too.

  ‘I had thought there was an agreement to not let that news out,’ she said, accepting a glass of tea from Sami.

  ‘Mr Manzerotti is a keen collector of works such as ours,’ Adnan said. ‘He knows we are friends of Mrs Clode’s and while examining our wares let a few details slip. We of course gave him a very reasonable price.’

  ‘What did he buy?’

  ‘The caged songbirds.’

  ‘Naturally.’ Harriet thought of Manzerotti and wondered whom he was working for now. The King of Prussia? Why not. He was a powerful man who would of course be interested in a state such as this, squeezed in between the kingdoms of Austria and France. She tried, as she watched Adnan work, to think like a King. To have Maulberg strong must be to his advantage. If Austria were to absorb it, Prussia must feel threatened, but if Prussia were to try and claim it overtly, then Austria would protest. Poor Maulberg, she thought, all these great powers grouped round it, watching each other, laying a claim for influence. Then these Masons with a revolutionary bent. Did they exist? And if they did and did manage to destabilise Maulberg, didn’t they realise they would be swept away in the flood as France, Austria and Prussia tried to rush into the gap. She sighed.

  ‘Mr Al-Said, explain this marriage to me.’

  Adnan set his file to one side. ‘Mrs Westerman, I am a Turk and a commoner. Why do you believe I can tell you anything of the matter?’

  Harriet picked up one of the brass keys in front of her and spun it between her fingertips. ‘For just that reason. You and Mr Sami have been here nearly two years, but you have observed, not been drawn into it all. How did you come here?’

  ‘We knew that the Duke liked to spend generously on items such as ours. We had hoped to tempt Count Frenzel too.’ Adnan blew the fine metal shavings away from the brass disc on which he worked. They glimmered. ‘He once had a reputation for buying works such as ours, but as far as we know, he has not bought anything from us yet.’

  Harriet lifted up the key and smiled with artificial brightness. ‘What makes this place tick?’

  ‘Same as any court. Gossip. Intrigue. Alliance. Influence. Power,’ Adnan replied.

  ‘Power. A strange concept in a state with an absolute monarch.’

  ‘Indeed. It can bestowed and whipped away again at any moment. People contort themselves in many ways to try and capture it, retain it.’

  ‘Explain.’

  ‘They watch each other. They impress or indulge each other. Some buy amulets from any fakir who comes through the city that promise to make them invulnerable.’

  She smiled and sat back a little. ‘Do they really?’

  ‘Oh yes. When money and influence pass so quickly, so … whimsically, people will cling to whatever they can convince themselves will help them.’

  ‘This marriage is important, is it not?’

  ‘Yes, I think it is. The Princess is the only child of the Elector of Saxe Ettlingham. It is not a large kingdom, but it has tactical advantages.’

  ‘And it borders Maulberg.’

  ‘Indeed. The Duke has some interests in it through his mother’s family. In agreeing to marry the Princess to him, the Elector has named the Duke his heir.’

  ‘So Maulberg should rejoice? Yet the wedding negotiations seem to have been carried out very quietly.’

  ‘Indeed. Six months ago when the Duke announced his betrothal, the news fell on the court like a thunderclap. The Duke seems to have kept his secret even from his most intimate friends.’

  ‘Why?’

  Adnan examined the air above her head. From outside Harriet could hear a cuckoo calling. She had never liked the birds since she first heard the stories of their breeding. Creatures that grew fat on the labours of others.

  ‘I think he likes to surprise. He has such a love of spectacle, to drop this coup of a marriage into the court … pleased him, I suspect.’

  ‘How was it arranged then?’

  ‘Colonel Padfield seems to have had a hand in the negotiations, and Count Frenzel.’

  Harriet rested her cheek in her hand, placed the key on the workbench and spun it on its axis with a fingertip. ‘Why do I feel not everyone is delighted?’

  ‘I cannot say why you feel what you feel, madam.’

  ‘Mr Al-Said …?’

  ‘A shift of influence, of power perhaps. Also, the Princess has been granted the great indulgence of bringing a number of gentlemen from her own court and placing them in positions of power here. Some members of court also wished the Duke to marry a different Princess. One with less powerful friends.’

  She watched him work a few minutes more, finding the patience and exactness of his movements deeply calming. ‘I can see why my sister has found refuge here, Mr Al-Said.’

  ‘I shall tell you what I have told her, Mrs Westerman,’ Adnan said. ‘Remember it is a false refuge. We are still in the grounds of a palace, not lost in the woods.’

  Harriet had intended to read the papers she had received from Herr Dorf in the quiet of the gardens on leaving the Al-Saids, but as she emerged into the spring air she found Michaels outside, in conversation with the metalworker, Julius. The latter was in full conversational flow, speaking in the local dialect. As soon as he noticed Harriet he switched to French and made his bow.

  ‘Mrs Westerman! Delighted to make your acquaintance. I understand you gave up a rather pretty necklace yesterday. Would you like to commission a replacement? I shall make you something so charming you will be glad you gave the first away. Gold and emeralds to bring out the colour of your eyes. What do you say?’

  She shook her head. ‘Is there anyone who doesn’t know the details of the demonstration?’

  ‘I rather suspect the Duke is preparing the court for Clode’s return from Castle Grenzhow by letting little details slip. How about a gift for Mr Clode? A snuffbox, perhaps. Enamelled?’

  ‘The Duke is still considering whether to release Clode. I would not want to presume, and in any case I have not come to Maulberg to spend my housekeeping.’

  ‘Another serious lady! Thank the Lord not all of your sex can refuse me so easily. I s
hould starve.’ He frowned for a moment. ‘What about an Athenian Owl! Perfect emblem for a seeker after truth such as yourself, and I’ve already …’ He suddenly blushed. ‘Forgive me. That would be tasteless in the extreme.’

  Harriet shook her head, confused. ‘You shall not tempt me, but why should it be tasteless?’

  His face was still very red. ‘I did make one before, but it was for Lady Martesen. She wore it often. The idea of offering you a replica, in the circumstances … I apologise, I have no idea what I was thinking.’ Harriet felt rather sorry for him.

  ‘No need to mention it further, sir. And you are quite a salesman. Now do tell me, what were you saying to Michaels so excitedly when I interrupted you?’

  He looked grateful for the chance to recover himself; his voice became lower and softer. ‘Only how glad I was when the Al-Said brothers arrived in court and took up residence here. The servants from the palace had been sneaking into the building night after night to amuse themselves with parlour games and ghost stories. I don’t begrudge them some entertainment, but sometimes the women would let out a shriek that would wake the dead. Certainly woke me anyway.’ He cleared his throat. ‘But you have both had more than your fair share of my nonsense now. Good day, Mrs Westerman, Michaels.’

  He nodded to them both and returned to his workshop. ‘If he can control his tongue, I think that young man will do well in life,’ Harriet said, watching him retreat

  Michaels grunted. ‘He thinks too well of himself, if you want my opinion. I asked him who the people were who came up here, and all he had to say was “servants”, as if anyone without a title has no right to a name of their own.’ He glanced at her sideways. ‘No need to grin at me, missus. I doubt you like this set-up any more than me. Never realised how easy I had it in England till I saw all the bowing and scraping goes on round here.’

  ‘I can’t imagine you ever bowing to anyone, at home or here, Michaels. Yet you would not ride in the carriage with us, or dine with us on the road, and when you come to Caveley you come in through the kitchen door.’

  ‘I like the fresh air, and my boots are always dirty.’

  She sighed. ‘I suppose I should be grateful you didn’t say you know your place.’

  ‘Maybe you should.’ He winked at her.

  ‘Enough! I know better than to fence with you. What news then, Michaels?’

  He shrugged his shoulders. ‘Some dribs and drabs. But it seems my path and Mr Crowther’s have led us the same way. That needs thinking on. I’d be willing to come and chew it over with you both, if you’re at liberty.’

  They found Crowther in his room, and when Michaels had finished telling them what he had learned, and they in turn told him of the uses Kupfel’s drugs had been put to, Michaels hissed between his teeth.

  ‘It makes me worry for the girl,’ he said. ‘I’ve no doubt that it was she who took the books and supplies, but she was all cons and flummeries, not murders. I reckon she’s passed those poison notes on to someone else, and I wonder what has happened to her now.’

  Harriet put her chin in her hand. ‘I fear you may be right. Is there no way of finding out where Beatrice went?’

  ‘Maybe. There was a boy here who liked her, we had a word or two as I passed him coming back, and though I don’t think he knows much, I reckon he knows a little more than he’s saying. I just haven’t found the right way to wind him up to talking. I’ll ask about here too. Sounds like my Beatrice could have been caught up in the spirit nonsense that Julius made mention of.’

  ‘Good luck, Michaels,’ Crowther said. ‘It seems you might have the best chance of running this matter to ground for now.’

  ‘We’ll see. Plenty of riddles for all of us.’ He paused. ‘So Mrs Padfield’s been hanging on and waiting till someone like me came along that might help her, trying to keep this quiet.’

  Crowther nodded. ‘I understand. I can see no reason we need let it be known that Beatrice was Mrs Padfield’s sister. What say you, Mrs Westerman?’

  ‘The same.’

  ‘I meant to tell you, Mrs Westerman,’ Michaels said, turning to her, his voice soft. ‘If you wish it, I will throttle that Manzerotti for you. I could make it back to England on the quiet.’

  She studied her hands.

  ‘Thank you, Michaels. But no. If I cannot kill him myself, I will not send another to do it. Find this girl and her poison book. And we shall try and discover who has been making such use of it.’

  When he had left, Harriet showed the papers she had collected from Herr Dorf to Crowther. He read through them and put them aside with a sigh. ‘Nonsense.’

  ‘It does read like the work of a madman, does it not? Secret societies working in the heart of government. All assertion, no evidence. Thank goodness we have news of this poison book, or I should think myself lost indeed.’

  If anyone knew who used to go to the village to see spirits, they weren’t saying. Michaels couldn’t blame them. Sneaking off after-hours like that would be enough to lose you your place; better to play dumb and say you had never heard of such a thing, especially to a stranger just rolled in. He gave up soon enough and stepped into town to wait for the boy to finish at the blacksmiths. He timed it nicely; after half an hour Michaels spotted the boy emerging from his workplace and slouched forward.

  ‘Can I buy you a brew, lad?’ he said, nodding towards a doorway nearby.

  Simon looked suspicious. The offer of a free drink is a difficult one to refuse on any occasion; however, when your feet are sore with standing and your bones ache with hammering iron all day, such a refusal is all but impossible. He nodded, and they went into the tavern together.

  A keen-eyed boy just clambering long-boned into his teens brought them beer, and Michaels pronounced in its favour.

  ‘You know I want to talk to you more of the girl, Beatrice,’ Michaels said, once he had sunk half his drink in a single gasp. Simon sipped his as if he thought it might be bad.

  ‘You said you were her uncle.’

  ‘That why you clammed up on me?’

  ‘She told me she had an uncle, but he was dying or dead. You look pretty bloody healthy to me, and for all Gurt or her like say of her, I trust Beatrice over you.’

  Michaels grinned into his beer. ‘Thought that might be it. You were more friendly with her than others knew, eh?’

  Simon didn’t answer, but hunkered over his tankard.

  ‘Did she tell you she had a sister too? Two years older than her, taken out of the orphanage with her by the man they travelled with. It’s on her account I’m asking.’

  ‘Why say you’re an uncle then, and lie to folks you’re asking trust from?’

  ‘It’s a fair question.’ The smoke in the place was so thick you didn’t need to light a pipe yourself, just taste your neighbour’s tobacco for free. Michaels examined the young man. Hard eyes, and thin-faced. He wondered if Beatrice had seen him as a fellow spirit. Like appeals to like, after all.

  ‘All I can say is, the sister married well. Wants to know why Beatrice hasn’t found her out to feel how deep her pockets are, but she doesn’t want to risk asking about her herself now.’

  ‘Who is she?’ His face was hidden by the tankard, but Michaels could still see his little eyes glimmering through the fug and fall of his fringe. He leaned forward till his face was only an inch away from the other man’s, and spoke quietly and carefully.

  ‘You don’t want to think of playing that game, lad. You tell me something that helps, and I’ll see you won’t suffer for it. But don’t get thinking.’ He put his hand on the boy’s elbow and twisted very slightly. Simon hissed in pain. ‘Now maybe your little rat’s mind is thinking who it might be. Maybe you’re thinking I’ll leave Maulberg soon. Well, I might. But I won’t leave the lady unprotected, so even if you do work it out and try and force a penny from her, you’ll have to watch your back every night for the rest of your sorry little life.’ He leaned back again and patted the boy’s shoulder in a friendly way. ‘Be smart.
Take the easy money and smile. Two thalers now, if I like what you say, and five more if I find something worth finding.’ It would take the boy two weeks to earn that in the general run.

  He rubbed his elbow. ‘All right. What do you want to know?’

  ‘For two thalers down? Bloody everything.’

  He considered. ‘She wasn’t that friendly to begin with. Held herself apart, you know? Then one night I found her round the back of Whistler’s place sitting on a barrel and crying her eyes out. Thought she’d fly when I saw her, but I showed her a couple of magic tricks. Made her smile. After that we seemed to bump into each other a fair bit. Nothing much. Just a bit of conversation and a laugh at the end of the day.’

  ‘She liked your tricks.’

  ‘Yeah, you know, just pulling a coin out of her ear, that sort of caper. Funny thing is, she never wanted to know how I did it. I asked her why and she explained that that always spoils it. Told me a bit about her sister and uncle then.’

  ‘And what of her work for Whistler?’

  ‘Said she wanted to learn the tricks of alchemy, but that she’d bribed her way into working for a fool who was actually trying to do it — make the Elixir of Life and all that — rather than fake it. She was bitter that she’d spent good money to get the position. Said it was money wasted. All books. No cons.’

  ‘So what did she plan on doing then?’

  ‘She was a smart one.’ He smiled and scratched his ear, the hard glitter in his eyes softening now. ‘The next time I saw her, she said that she reckoned she could still get her money’s worth out of it. He had some book of his own and she’d worked out the way he had of writing in it. Thought it could be sold with the bits and pieces wrapped up with it. Then she’d picked up some learning from the other books, copied out pictures and signs, a few spells and incantations and stuff. Cut out others. Said she was making her own book of magic, and when she found the right mark she’d twist him for everything he’d got.’