Time of Trial

by Michael Pryor

  ‘And so,’ he said gravely, ‘it is indisputable that the late Count de Vere of Carleon was the rightful King of Gallia.’ Kiefer gestured. ‘As he died with no brothers, and only one daughter, that means his grandson, Prince Albert here, is the heir to that throne as well as that of Albion.’

  The bombshell exploded and, to Aubrey, it sounded like the laughter of Dr Mordecai Tremaine.

  Thirty

  A week after the extraordinary events of the symposium opening, a launch pulled alongside the HMS Invulnerable with commendable sureness, given the choppy sea. Aubrey watched from the bridge as his father came onto deck looking neat and trim. He took his time to greet the captain and his officers, even though it was apparent to Aubrey that he’d rather be on his way to meeting Lady Rose. It was subtle – the duration of the handclasp, a touching of his hand to the brim of his hat – but Aubrey knew his father well. He was sure that every man on the Invulnerable would remember the Prime Minister’s visit and how he talked with them about their particular duty.

  ‘I’m surprised he could get away,’ George said. His sandy hair ruffled in the wind as they walked down the passageway from where the captain had let them watch their arrival into Imworth harbour.

  ‘It would take more than chaos in Gallia to keep him away,’ Aubrey said. Almost unconsciously, he touched his chest – where once the Beccaria Cage had nestled – and then put his hand to his pocket to feel the comforting weight of his pocket watch. He was glad to have it back, even if its return simply meant it was more difficult to fathom Dr Tremaine and his motives.

  Kiefer’s announcement had caused such an uproar that the symposium had been abandoned. While Prince Albert was ushered out safely, pandemonium ruled. Academics and analysts gathered and argued about the political implications of the revelation, diplomats hurried out to spread the news, curious guests surged about trying to glimpse the young man who could soon be the ruler of two countries. Within an hour, the only people left were trade exhibitors, who were glumly packing up their displays and counting the costs of the lost opportunities.

  Fisherberg exploded with gossip and speculation. In packed coffee houses and tense meeting rooms, Albion’s ambitions were dissected, international treaties discussed, and plans were redrawn.

  The Albion Embassy was besieged. Prying journalists, countless petitioners and the simply inquisitive had trapped Prince Albert, Lady Rose, Aubrey and the others for days – time which Aubrey used to probe what had happened when the chaotic magic interacted with the Beccaria Cage. The way that it had fused his body and soul together was baffling, but it showed no signs of deteriorating. The events of the Fisherberg trip had been mixed in their outcome, but this looked as if it was undeniably positive.

  He really was cured.

  They found a ladder and went below to the next deck. He peered over the rail to see a large group of able seamen grappling with a large crate. In the days of chaos after Otto Kiefer’s speech, Ambassador Hollows had done well to organise the payment and shipment of the golem maker to the Invulnerable. Craddock was below, supervising the loading of the crate onto the same launch that had brought Sir Darius. Aubrey was sure the arcane machinery would be whisked into the lowest reaches of the Darnleigh Buildings, home of what used to be the Magisterium. He could imagine magicians in the employ of the military rubbing their hands in anticipation, ready to deconstruct it.

  Before leaving Fisherberg, Aubrey caught up with an angry Hugo von Stralick. Betrayed and bitter, von Stralick dropped a number of broad hints that made Aubrey very suspicious about the origin of the golem-making machinery. Aubrey was keen to examine the apparatus itself to see if he could find anything to connect it to a certain Holmland industrialist. If they were, the events in Holmland were even more complex than they seemed. Baron von Grolman was a player who needed further analysis.

  Seeing Craddock reminded Aubrey that he hadn’t questioned him about how he knew Madame Zelinka. Since the symposium, he’d learned that Craddock and Tallis had indeed caught an emergency dirigible flight to Fisherberg as soon as news had made its way back to Albion about the plot to replace Prince Albert, but they’d barely spoken to Aubrey – apart from insisting on his compiling a detailed report. Their attention was on ensuring that the Prince – and Lady Rose – were safely escorted from Holmland.

  Tallis was waiting for Aubrey and George on the deck below. He was standing, arms behind his back, eyeing the sea with the suspicion of the true land dweller. ‘Thomson the bookseller,’ he said without any preliminaries. ‘Hollows sent your report on to my department.’ He scowled. ‘We’ve investigated further. You may be right.’

  ‘You’ve taken him into custody?’

  Tallis turned away from the sea. He smiled. ‘Hardly.’

  ‘He’s given you the slip?’ George shook his head. ‘Cunning chaps, those booksellers.’

  ‘We’ll keep a good eye on him,’ Tallis said, ignoring George, ‘and use him to feed false information to his masters. It may prove invaluable.’

  ‘And Stafford Bruce?’

  ‘He was mortified,’ Tallis said. ‘Resigned immediately. The Opposition is disarray. Some analysts in Foreign Affairs are saying that this could have been the actual plan in the first place.’

  Aubrey saw the shifting movements of international intrigue all over again, the shadows under the surface of the sunny world. Complex, tortured, tangled, the unseen armies already at war.

  They met the others in what had been the officers’ dining room but had, out of necessity, become a debriefing room. The room itself was well lit, with many ports allowing light in from the outside, and it was surprisingly well appointed. A number of round tables with heavy, starched tablecloths were surrounded by heavy-based chairs that swivelled – a sensible arrangement for heavy weather.

  Caroline and Lady Rose were already there. Caroline waved to him as he entered and Aubrey’s heart was hers. He wasn’t sure if she knew it, but he wouldn’t have been surprised if she did. She was anything but unperceptive. If she chose not to acknowledge it, Aubrey had decided, it must be her sense of responsibility again, laying as heavily on her as his did on him. She was determined to pursue her studies, her career and her wider ambitions in the world. Aubrey had had the tantalising hint from her that politics was something that she was thinking of. And then there was this adventuring, which she had thrown herself into in a way that only increased her appeal to him – if that were possible.

  With such aspirations, Caroline’s firm view that single-mindedness of outlook was paramount meant that any personal dalliances were seen as unnecessary uses of time. The optimum route to success called for dedication and couldn’t countenance anything frivolous.

  But had he detected some thawing in Caroline’s attitude? He was aware of how easy it was to misinterpret such things. Acutely aware. He swallowed at the multitude of memories that presented themselves, evidence of his inability in this area. They made him hesitant to conclude anything, but could there be some hope?

  He greeted Caroline and his mother, then sat next to Caroline. She didn’t object, and even patted his elbow absently as she craned her lovely neck to look toward where the captain was entering via another door.

  I can always hope, Aubrey thought and vowed to be content with this.

  Sir Darius strode into the room. Immediately, he found his wife and crossed to her side.

  Aubrey had grown accustomed to warm displays of affection between his parents. It set them apart in a society where decorum was the norm and Aubrey loved them for it. The genuine feeling that had brought them together was as strong as ever, unaffected by the censorious eyes of the world.

  Lady Rose stood. Sir Darius swept his wife into his arms and held her tightly. She put her head on his shoulders and closed her eyes. They said nothing.

  Having seen this before, Aubrey discreetly watched Caroline. She smiled at Sir Darius and Lady Rose. Aubrey thought her smile was wistful, and the way she rested her hand on her cheek added to the
contemplative cast of her face. Or did it? Perhaps she was simply tired. Or thinking of something else.

  I have no idea, Aubrey admitted to himself, and he sighed.

  ‘Something wrong, Aubrey?’ Caroline asked.

  ‘Apart from Gallia questioning their alliance with us and thereby providing an opportunity for Holmland to start aggression?’

  ‘No need to be so testy.’ She patted his arm again. ‘You did well.’

  Aubrey had never had fireworks go off inside his skull, but he imagined that this is what it would feel like. ‘I did?’

  ‘You did, old man.’ George leaned across the table. ‘Don’t you think that Dr Tremaine would have actually taken the Prince, even if that wasn’t his main aim for the symposium?’

  Lady Rose smiled. ‘Aubrey, dear boy. You can be hard on yourself. Take some pride in what you’ve achieved.’

  Aubrey sat back, surprised. Ever since their precipitous departure from Fisherberg, he’d been kicking himself for not anticipating Dr Tremaine’s plot within a plot within a plot. Even now, warming to the praise, he wondered if he’d missed a plot or two.

  Craddock entered. He took his hat from his head and beat it against his leg. Behind him was Tallis and Prince Albert, who was accompanying Caroline’s mother. The Prince saw the party at Aubrey’s table, waved and escorted Mrs Hepworth across the room.

  Requisite greeting, bowing and curtseying completed, the Prince waited until Mrs Hepworth was seated before taking a place himself. ‘Have you heard the news? Your friend Kiefer has disappeared.’

  ‘Not exactly a friend,’ Aubrey said, with a pang. He’d liked Kiefer, despite his eccentricities, and he hated seeing the way Dr Tremaine used people and then discarded them. ‘An acquaintance.’

  Tallis glanced at the open notebook he held. ‘Hollows’s people report that he’s not been seen in any of his old haunts since his speech.’

  ‘The poor boy who made the speech at the symposium?’ Ophelia Hepworth said.

  ‘The poor boy who seems to have helped Holmland to the secret of ammonia synthesis.’ Aubrey stopped and blinked. ‘He was studying pressure containment magic while he was at Greythorn. I’ll warrant that Dr Tremaine organised his placement here to facilitate that.’

  ‘Used and then thrown away,’ George said.

  ‘He’s not the only one who’s missing,’ Craddock said. ‘I believe you know Professor Mansfield? Ancient Languages at Greythorn? She was meant to present at the symposium but didn’t appear. Our Holmland operatives think she’s been abducted.’

  Lady Rose put a hand to her mouth. ‘Mercy. Anne.’

  Sir Darius took her other hand. ‘We’ll do what we can?’

  Tallis made a decisive note. ‘Of course.’

  Ophelia Hepworth looked puzzled. ‘I’d still like to know why poor Kiefer’s work on ammonia is so important. I thought his revelation about the Prince was far more interesting.’

  Aubrey went first. ‘Explosives. Munitions. Holmland’s war preparations have been hampered by uncertain supplies of nitrates – which can be extracted from guano.’ He paused. ‘If you don’t have guano, you have to get it from ammonia, and that process has been hideously expensive.’

  ‘Until now,’ the Prince said.

  ‘Oh dear.’ Mrs Hepworth folded her hands on the table.

  Sir Darius touched his moustache. ‘Our best estimates have said that the Holmland armed forces only had three months’ supply of bullets, for instance. Not enough for a serious war.’

  ‘But that’s all changed now,’ Aubrey said. ‘Cheap ammonia means plenty of bullets. Plenty of bombs. Plenty of torpedoes.’ He shuddered at the prospect. ‘I’m starting to think war is inevitable.’

  ‘That’s depressing,’ George said.

  ‘Is Dr Tremaine behind this?’ Caroline asked.

  ‘If it was just him, I think we’d have a chance of doing something. But after seeing the state of play in Fisherberg ... Too many important Holmlanders seem to think war might be an opportunity.’

  ‘War as an opportunity?’ Lady Rose said. ‘What a depraved notion.’

  Sir Darius shrugged. ‘They see it as a chance to expand Holmland’s borders, to seize resources, to become the dominant nation on the Continent.’

  ‘And don’t forget profit,’ George pointed out. ‘War’s good for business, if you’re in the right business.’

  George’s suggestion suddenly threw light on something that had been nagging at Aubrey. ‘That’s it, George. Baron von Grolman. That’s what he’s up to.’

  ‘The consummate businessman,’ Caroline said softly, immediately following Aubrey’s lead. She clenched a fist. ‘He’s not against war. He just wants to be in a position to make the most money from it.’

  ‘That would explain why he was interested in getting rid of Dr Tremaine,’ George said. ‘Tremaine was keeping the baron away from power.’

  ‘Sorry, Caroline,’ Aubrey said. ‘Sorry, Mrs Hepworth.’

  ‘Ophelia, Aubrey dear. And no need to apologise. Siggy has changed. I was glad to leave him behind.’

  Aubrey slipped away as the others pulled apart the revelations. He was pleased when Caroline and George followed.

  Together, they stood at the rail and watched as the great ship edged its way toward the dock. The pretty town of Imworth was perched overlooking the harbour, white-washed houses cheery in the sunlight.

  ‘Well, George,’ Aubrey said. ‘I suppose our adventure had left you with enough to fill a few newspapers?’

  ‘I’m not sure if the papers would be after the sort of thing I want to write.’

  ‘Meaning?’

  ‘I wouldn’t mind writing about the Holmland people, the ordinary folk, not the politicians. Good sorts, they are.’

  ‘Sounds as if you’re talking about a book.’

  George looked alarmed. ‘A book? Steady on, old man. An essay is the sort of thing I was thinking about. Find a place for it in one of the journals, perhaps.’ He put his hands in his pockets. ‘Speaking of such, I’m heading down to talk to some of the sailors. Get their opinion about things, their view of what’s going on.’

  Whistling, he strolled away, leaving Aubrey and Caroline alone.

  ‘He did that deliberately,’ Aubrey said.

  ‘I know. He’s very well-meaning.’

  ‘To a fault.’

  The breeze ruffled Caroline’s hair. Aubrey thought it was the most wonderful thing he’d seen since he last looked at her.

  ‘Let’s just see what happens,’ she said suddenly.

  ‘I beg your pardon?’

  ‘You were going to ask about us.’

  ‘I was?’

  She smiled. ‘Your need to know everything is one of your most appealing and most infuriating traits.’

  The ship sounded its horn as it neared the dock but Aubrey didn’t hear anything over the roaring in his ears.

  Appealing?

  Some response was necessary. ‘We should let things take their course?’

  ‘It sounds like the most sensible idea.’

  ‘Sensible. I like sensible.’

  ‘I thought you would.’

  ‘And you won’t get irritated, or upset, if I press my suit?’

  ‘Press your suit? What a charmingly old-fashioned way of putting it.’

  ‘Charming? I can see it’s working already.’

  ‘Don’t get your hopes up. I reserve my right to be irritated, or upset, at any time.’

  ‘I’ll endeavour never to give you cause, then.’

  Caroline gazed out at the welcoming sight of Albion waiting for them. ‘I’ll be interested to see how that turns out.’

  As will I, thought Aubrey as they made their way, at last, into a safe harbour.

  The unthinkable has happened: Albion is at war. Aubrey and George are swept up into the military – but not in the way they expect. With Caroline drafted into the Special Services, Aubrey is sure the combination of his magic, George’s practical skills and Caroline’s figh
ting secrets will make them a formidable team. But what if the military hierarchy has other ideas?

  When Aubrey’s top secret espionage unit is sent to Gallia to investigate mysterious magical emanations, what they discover is intelligence gold. Holmland is about to unleash an unstoppable horror upon the world. It could win the war within weeks. Aubrey is in a dilemma: should he obey orders and simply observe, or should he and his friends do their best to stop a bloodbath?

  Book Five: Moment of Truth is available at

  all good retailers in August 2010