by Moore, John
The effect on the men was reminiscent of Lord Galvin’s experiment when he touched an electrode to a frog’s leg. They jumped. Jolted into action, the drew their swords and opened their lanterns to shine on the prince.
He was unarmed and underdressed, without his jacket or his sword. But he ignored the weapons pointed in his direction and merely walked past Catherine to tug on the rope behind her. “I’m so glad you didn’t cut up the linens to make this.”
“I thought about it, Your Highness,” replied Catherine sweetly. “But they were such nice linens I couldn’t bear to damage them.”
“I’m sure we could all have a long and fascinating discussion about bedclothes,” cut in Gagnot. “But Lady Catherine has another engagement tonight, so if you’ll excuse us, Your Highness.” He motioned for two of his men to bring up the horses. The rest crowded around Charlie and made threatening motions with their swords.
Charlie was unfazed. “Now,” he said loudly. And then more lamps went on.
They went on in a wide semicircle around Gagnot’s men and were accompanied by a clatter of drawn swords. They belonged to the palace guards and they were twice as loud because there were twice as many as Gagnot’s men. Other lights went on in the tower windows, to silhouette the archers standing behind them. It was as neat a capture as anyone could wish for, until the prince totally spoiled the effect by barking, “Arrest them.”
It is one of the curious anomalies of the military life that the enlisted soldier will hesitate to obey a senior officer. He will obey his junior officer. A lieutenant will let a general overrule his captain, but the enlisted man, if given a direct order by a general, will often hesitate until the order is confirmed by his lieutenant. Thus it was that when the palace guards were told by their prince regent to arrest some armed men, they took no action. Oh, they didn’t disobey exactly. They closed in, moved around, waved their swords, and generally acted threatening, while they waited for Oratorio to show up and tell them what to do. And Oratorio was not to be found.
“Oh, for God’s sake,” snapped Charlie. He grabbed one of Gagnot’s men, pushed the cloak off his face, and found it was Dunswitch. “Give me that.” He snatched the sword from his hand and turned to face Gagnot. “Abe, a fortnight ago you challenged me to a duel. Very well, I accept. Let’s have it out now.”
“Agreed!” said Gagnot. “Your tyranny has gone on long enough. Someone needs to remove you and it might as well be me.” He attacked with his sword, Charlie parried his stroke, and the clash of blades rang in the clear night and echoed off the surrounding walls.
But they had only that one strike and parry before Catherine stepped between them. (And this was also a gutsy thing to do, to step between two men swinging steel.) Both Abe and Charlie stopped themselves short and lowered their swords. “Boys, boys,” she said soothingly, looking from one to the other. “Put away your swords, please. There is no need to fight.”
“We’re fighting over you,” Charlie told her, “and I can think of no better reason to fight.”
This was a pretty good line, romantic and dashing, and it angered Gagnot no end that he could not think of anything to top it. “She made her choice, Charlie,” he said. “She’s coming with me.”
So it seemed that the situation had reached an impasse, one that could not be resolved without blood being shed, and it was fortunate indeed that Oratorio chose that moment to arrive, a little out of breath, on the scene. “Stand down, all of you,” he ordered, and the Royal Guards obeyed. “You!” he told Gagnot’s men. “Put your weapons on the ground. Now!” and they too obeyed, except for Gagnot himself. “Your Highness,” he said to Charlie. “Please excuse my delay.”
“Arrest them all,” Charlie told him. “Put Catherine back in her room and see that she stays there this time.”
“Your Highness,” said Oratorio in a low voice. “Before we take action, your uncles would like a word with you.” He lifted his lantern so that Charlie could see Packard and Gregory standing behind him.
Charlie was having none of it. He was red hot with anger and jealousy. He turned back to Gagnot, fully intending to continue the fight. Gregory had to push his way through the guards and grab his arm. “Not now, Your Highness,” he hissed into Charlie’s ear. “We’re not ready yet.”
Packard, too, had grabbed Catherine and guided her outside the circle of listening ears. “He’s right, Charlie,” he told the prince, after Gregory hustled him away from the soldiers. “We’re not prepared. Fortescue isn’t prepared. And he wants an uprising, not a private duel. You’re putting our whole plan in jeopardy.”
“I’m putting the plan in jeopardy? What about her! What were you doing?” he demanded of Catherine. He pointed to Gagnot. “And what is he doing here?”
Catherine smiled with perfect serenity. She started to speak, but Gregory interrupted. “I’m sure our Catherine has a perfectly reasonable explanation,” he said. “Which she’ll explain later,” he added, cutting her short as she started to speak again. “The point, Charlie, is that while Catherine’s cooperation is helpful to the plan, she is not vital to it. You are. If Gagnot kills you in a duel now, it is all over. If you kill Gagnot, you’ll set us back weeks. It may be even longer before we can have a rebellion. And we can’t wait that long. People are already hungry, Charlie. You said so yourself.”
It was easy to see that they had found the right key to unlock Charlie’s attitude. “Oh, all right,” he conceded reluctantly. “Oratorio, get them out of here.” He waved his arm to encompass all the conspirators. “Get them all out of here. Gagnot, too. Send them home. Tell them if they try any stunt like this again, it will be the Barsteel for them all.”
It was several hours before Charlie had an opportunity to vent his feelings, after the intrepid band of would-be rescuers had been escorted back to town, the guards reassigned to their posts, and Catherine returned to her suite. The prince was seething with anger, but Lady Catherine was not the least bit cowed. She told him quite firmly that, while she would be pleased to explain everything to him in good time, she would first have to change out of her traveling clothes and brush her hair. And before that, she needed to have a bath. And before that, a light meal, as the night air had given her an appetite. And while she was talking she was guiding Charlie toward the door, until he soon found himself standing outside her suite with the door bolted behind him and an order for the kitchen in his hand.
He was returning some time later when a very nervous Rosalind stopped him in the hallway. He tried to go around her but she blocked his path. “Your Highness?”
Charlie nodded impatiently.
“I’m Rosalind Amund, Your Highness. Lady Catherine’s lady-in-waiting.”
“I know who you are.”
“I just wanted to say that none of this was Lady Catherine’s fault. The escape was my idea. I planned it all and talked her into it. I’m the one to blame. She had no part in the conspiracy.”
“You talked her into climbing out a narrow window into a rope basket fifty feet above the ground without giving her a reason?”
“Um, yes. It was a—it was to be—a girl’s night out. You know, have a few cocktails, do some window shopping, the usual thing. She was surprised as anyone when Gagnot showed up.”
“I see. You planned this all by yourself?”
“Yes, Your Highness. No one else at the castle was involved.”
“No one? You were up on the roof working that winch by yourself?”
“Um, yes.”
“An enthralling tale. I’m completely convinced.” Out of the corner of his eye, Charlie saw Pollocks approaching. He motioned for the family retainer to stay back and addressed Rosalind severely. “Go to your room, Miss Amund. I will decide on your punishment later.”
Rosalind departed with her head bowed. Charlie motioned for Pollocks to approach. “Pollocks, what was that all about?”
“I must say the young lady shows a great deal of loyalty to her friend.”
“Do you think
Lady Catherine put her up to it?”
“Oh no. I think she was sincerely trying to shift the blame onto herself.”
Charlie looked past him to see Oratorio approaching. The Captain of the Guard came to attention and saluted smartly. Charlie sighed. “What now, Oratorio?”
“A word with you in private, Your Highness?”
“You can speak in front of Pollocks.”
“Very well, sir.” Oratorio took a deep breath. “I want to confess, Your Highness.”
“I didn’t take you for a religious man, Oratorio. However, there are priests in the city who are good at that sort of thing.”
“I meant about the escape attempt, sir. Lady Catherine’s escape. The truth is . . .” Here Oratorio paused to clear his throat. “Err, the truth is that it was all my idea. I planned the whole thing. I persuaded Lady Catherine to leave her rooms. She did not even know that Gagnot and his men would be waiting below.”
“I see.”
“I got the idea from a trick we once used at the fraternity. We had these two girls in our dormitory, you see, and it was after hours, and we had to smuggle them back out. So we let down a rope . . .”
“Get to the point, Oratorio.”
“I’ve come to tender my resignation and accept my punishment, Your Highness.”
“Oh for God’s sake. Oratorio, come to my office tomorrow. We have a lot to discuss. For now, you’re dismissed.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Wait. Come back. Do you know Miss Rosalind Amund?”
“Sir?”
“Place her under house arrest. She is not to leave the castle. I want her guarded at all times.”
“Yes, sir. I’ll arrange it, sir.”
“See to it yourself, Oratorio. Don’t delegate this assignment. I want you personally by her side.”
Oratorio seemed at a loss for words. Charlie could almost see the confusion of thoughts running through his head, until finally the guardsman simply said, “Yes, sir,” spun around, and departed.
Charlie watched until he turned the corner, then turned to Pollocks. “What are you smirking about?”
“I was merely reflecting that not too long ago, someone made a remark about me playing matchmaker.”
“Shush, Pollocks. I suppose you also want to take sole credit for this night’s escapade.”
“Not at all. In fact, I have an alibi. I was playing cards with five friends at the time of the incident.”
“What? You showed up right after me.”
“I was making a joke, Your Highness.”
“Oh. Explain it to me later. I’ll see if Her Ladyship is taking visitors now.” He entered the prisoner’s suite.
Catherine was a clever girl—Charlie was always prepared to admit that—clever enough to delay their meeting, until after the prince had had the chance to talk things over with Pollocks and his uncles, eat a good meal, and generally let his anger cool down from a rolling boil to a mild simmer. Even this residual heat quickly dissipated when Catherine greeted him at the door with a kiss.
She was now in her nightgown, a satiny, shimmery thing that caught the moonlight coming through the still-open window. Her long red hair had been brushed to gleaming smoothness, and her lips and nails were glossy pink. The remains of a dinner tray lay across the coverlet. She pulled Charlie across the room to sit next her on the bed, where she arranged his arm around her waist. “That was so sweet of you to challenge Abe to a duel over me, Charlie. You looked very dashing running around out there with a drawn sword. But you really don’t need to put yourself in any danger on my behalf.” She kissed him again on the cheek.
“What?” said Charlie. “What was that all about? Catherine, why were you going out the window on a rope? I know this has been difficult for you, being cooped up here, but you can leave if you’ve had enough. Just tell me.”
“Oh, Charlie.” Catherine snuggled next to him. The remains of Charlie’s anger disappeared in a blood pressure surge. “Of course I had to try to escape. It’s all part of the act. The public would lose respect for me if I didn’t make at least one attempt. They’d think I wasn’t suffering enough. A failed escape makes me into a tragic heroine, one who is worthy of their support. It’s good publicity.”
She drew back to look at his face. The expression Charlie returned was still one of incomprehension, so she started again. “Charlie, look at it from the point of view of a Damask resident. Consider what they see. A naive young woman of high birth—myself—is arrested, and thrown into a tower. Nightly she is taken against her will by an evil prince. Of course they are shocked. Of course they are outraged. Their hearts go out to the poor girl. At first, anyway.
“But after a while, the shock and outrage wear off. Word gets out that her accommodations are quite comfortable, even luxurious. They know she is well fed even while their rations are being cut. And the women, especially the women, can’t help but notice that the evil prince, while undoubtedly evil, is rather good looking.” Catherine slipped a hand inside Charlie’s shirt. She began drawing little circles on his chest. “So she has to try to escape, you see.” She gave her head a gentle shake, so the soft red hair brushed against Charlie’s face. “Or the women might begin to wonder if she’s really enjoying herself. They could start to think that it wouldn’t be so bad, perhaps, to be ravished by an handsome prince. Even if he’s evil.” Somehow her lips had gotten close to Charlie’s ear. He felt her soft breath on his neck. “Evil, evil, evil,” she whispered. She took his earlobe between her moist lips and gently nibbled on it. “Such a bad, bad prince.”
“But,” said Charlie weakly. “What about Gagnot?”
“Oh, Abe is the person we need to convince most of all. He’ll be leading the insurrection, you know. I had to put on a good show for him. It’s important that he, most of all, believe I’m really in trouble. He’s not very politically minded, but he’ll want to save me.”
“Yes,” said Charlie. Some of the heat came back into his voice. “What about you and Gagnot? I understand that you and he had an understanding?”
Catherine drew back and looked at him. “Why, Charlie! Are you jealous?”
“Me? No, of course not. I just don’t like being kept out of the loop. If you’re going to do something like this, you need to keep me in the full picture.”
“I didn’t want to bother you with my plans when you are working so hard, Charlie. And it was better for you to be truly surprised. That way you didn’t have to pretend. Anyway, there was nothing for you to know. There was never anything between Abe and myself. He is such a foolish boy. He was willing to believe everything I told him.”
“Some guys are like that.”
“He isn’t really my type. Abe has never been out of Damask. He doesn’t have your worldly wisdom, Charlie.” Catherine moved back next to Charlie and rested her head on his shoulder.
“Oh. Well, I don’t like him anyway. And if he knew your plan, he shouldn’t have let you climb out an upper window. That was dangerous. You could have been hurt.”
“The element of danger made it more realistic. The air of desperation it conveyed made it more poignant. Anyway, it was my own idea. But thank you for being worried about me.”
“It was all your own idea? Totally? Oratorio and Rosalind each told me it was their idea.”
Catherine laughed. “Did they really? They are such darlings.” She hugged him. “When this is all over we really must get them each a nice gift, for being so patient with us. Perhaps something silver for Oratorio and crystal for Rosalind. Noile has wonderful shops for that sort of thing. We’ll gift wrap them and—oh!—we’ll have them engraved. From the two of us.” She looked into Charlie’s eyes. “Won’t that be fun?”
It seemed to Charlie, under those circumstances, that there was nothing in the world he’d rather do than spend time with Catherine, even if it meant shopping. But he had work to do and plans of his own to make. With much reluctance, he left her and went off to summon Oratorio, find Pollocks, and talk to his un
cles.
“Perhaps you should bring her a gift,” said Pollocks.
“Catherine?” said Charlie. “I bring her gifts all the time.”
“I mean the High Priestess. That’s who you’re going to see, isn’t it?”
Charlie gave him an irritated look. “I’m not courting her, Pollocks. This is state business. I’m returning to the Temple of Matka because I want to question them about the WMD. If Dad was visiting her regularly, and she really is a seeress, then she ought to know something.” Two stable hands each handed him the reins of a saddle horse. He threw his pack over one and checked the harnesses of both.
“She’s a woman. It wouldn’t hurt to bring a gift.” Pollocks pointed to the chain around the prince’s neck. “She gave you a gift on your last visit. You need to reciprocate.”
“I don’t know what she would like. And I don’t have time for shopping.”
“I took the liberty of having some fizzy bath bombs sent up from the city, Your Highness.” Pollocks brought a box from behind his back. It was already wrapped in silver paper, with a pale green ribbon. Charlie took it with reluctance and tucked it into the pack. He saw Pollocks looking at it.
“Now what? I suppose you want me to write a note to go with it?”
Pollocks cleared his throat. “Ah, I also took the liberty of writing a note for you.”
“Oh really? Something slushy and romantic, no doubt?”
“Just a few lines of poetry.” Pollocks produced a quill and ink bottle. “If you wouldn’t mind adding your initials.”
Charlie dug the box out, but hesitated with his quill over the card. “She gave me a gold chain. Fizzy bath bombs don’t seem quite adequate.”
“A few moments ago you weren’t going to bring anything at all. Now you’re criticizing my choice of gift?”
Charlie seemed like he was about to speak, but then closed his mouth, signed his name, blotted the ink with his cuff, and put the box back in his saddlebag. He mounted his horse, but hesitated before starting. “Pollocks, I won’t claim to understand how women think . . .”