Imperial Spy

by Mark Robson

  Versande Matthiason was in the small reception area of the inn when she arrived. Femke could not resist the opportunity to indulge herself in a few last antics, and she ran the innkeeper and his staff ragged after trivialities before announcing her imminent departure. Versande managed to maintain his composure at Alyssa’s declaration that she would be leaving soon, but Femke could see by the relaxation in the lines of the man’s face that he was relieved. Copious amounts of gold would no longer be pouring into his coffers, but Versande clearly felt he had endured enough for one visit.

  There was no point in Alyssa staying at the Silver Chalice any longer, and Femke did not want to tie Alyssa’s leaving Shandrim to the same day as the Ambassador departing for Thrandor. Even a day apart was too close, but she had little choice. As the Ambassador would not look like Alyssa, it was perhaps unlikely that anyone would make connection. To leave this evening would be suspicious, though, for although Alyssa was capricious by nature she rarely travelled any distance on impulse. Therefore, Femke enjoyed one more night of luxury as Lady Alyssa.

  There was a lot to do. Alyssa had to be seen to leave the city and, ideally, the Ambassador should be seen arriving. With that in mind, Femke did not annoy Versande and his staff for long before she changed into less distinctive clothing and slipped out unnoticed to visit some of her contacts in central Shandrim. It took her several hours to arrange everything to her satisfaction. Femke returned to the Silver Chalice in the early evening, content that everything was ready.

  ‘A young man called for you, my Lady. He left these and he asked me to pass on his compliments, together with a request that you dine with him this evening,’ Versande informed her as she entered the reception hall of the inn. He handed her a small but exquisitely arranged bouquet of flowers. With the flowers came a note.

  Dear Alyssa,

  Sorry we did not get the chance to finish our chat earlier. Maybe we could resume over dinner? I’ll meet you in the Chalice dining room at the eighth hour.

  Yours,

  Danar

  Femke groaned softly. ‘As if life isn’t complicated enough,’ she muttered.

  ‘Is something wrong, my Lady?’ Versande asked. ‘Is there anything I can do to help?’

  ‘Yes, Versande, there is. I’m sure you noted who left these. Lord Danar will arrive here shortly. He has indicated his wish to dine with me and expects to meet me in the dining room at the eighth hour. When he arrives, kindly inform Lord Danar that I’m indisposed. I’ll take a light snack in my room later.’

  ‘Yes, of course, my Lady,’ Versande agreed, bowing slightly. ‘I understand completely.’

  Femke rather doubted he did, but did not elaborate. It was enough that Versande would keep Lord Danar at bay.

  ‘One last thing, Versande.’

  ‘Yes, my Lady?’

  ‘On no account tell Lord Danar that I’m leaving in the morning. If you do, he may insist on seeing me – and I will not countenance any disturbance tonight. Do you understand?’

  ‘Yes, my Lady. A sensible precaution, my Lady. I’ll send Soffi up in a little while to see what you would like to eat. I trust you will sleep well.’

  The next morning, Femke rose early and packed her things. It was barely light when she descended the stairs to the reception desk to settle the bill. Femke was not surprised to find Versande there already. She wondered if the man ever slept at all.

  ‘Good morning, Versande, I trust there was no unpleasantness last night?’ Femke asked, looking as imperious as possible.

  ‘Nothing that couldn’t be dealt with quietly, my Lady,’ Versande assured her. ‘Lord Danar was a little . . . upset that you were not available to dine with him, but he did not cause undue disturbance. You wish to settle your bill, I assume?’

  Femke nodded with a glint of mischief in her eye as she wondered what ‘a little upset’ had looked like.

  ‘Well, my Lady, I’ve prepared your account. I hope that you enjoyed your stay.’

  ‘Yes, thank you, Versande. The room was most adequate. You and your staff have been very kind,’ she responded, struggling against the urge to tell him that the room was excellent and the service could not have been better. Still, ‘most adequate’ and ‘kind’ were high praise indeed from Lady Alyssa. Versande would take no offence, particularly given the rates that he was charging.

  Femke looked at the total and, without batting an eyelid at the exorbitant amount, proceeded to count out the appropriate number of gold and silver coins. Inside she was outraged at the amount Versande had charged her for a change of sheets, the use of a suite for a couple of nights, and some light food and drinks. Rikala’s bill for the dress was included, but Femke was sure the amount on Versande’s bill was hugely inflated from that which Rikala would receive. Femke sent Versande upstairs to fetch her bags personally, partly as Alyssa’s parting shot and partly as a token personal protest at the astronomical bill. She was determined to get every last ounce of work out of him for the money.

  Femke had arranged for two footmen to accompany her from the inn. Precisely on the call of the sixth hour, they arrived with her horses. Without a word they loaded Lady Alyssa’s bags and held her horse whilst she mounted. Without a backward glance, Femke rode off along the street, leaving Versande standing on the doorstep of the inn, apparently already forgotten.

  The switch was flawless. Femke rode through the city along the main eastbound streets and out into the countryside. At a rendezvous point she met with another of her contacts, who had brought the clothes, wig and make-up items she had specified, together with a fresh horse. It was easy to change her appearance sufficiently to be unrecognisable as Alyssa, and to ride off-road in a wide arc around the city.

  Femke re-entered Shandrim through the southern quarter and went swiftly to the Palace. Her final briefing was held in the Emperor’s study. Little was added to the instructions of the previous day other than a quick account of the gifts that Surabar had selected for the King of Thrandor and the names of those who would be travelling with her. In the event, the information did not prove totally accurate, for when they came to leave the next morning one of the two servants was too sick to travel and had to be replaced. The servant chosen to go in his stead looked bewildered by the whole affair, but managed to get ready so quickly that there was minimal delay.

  As this assignment was a long one, Femke decided that she would travel under her real name. The soldiers and servants were unlikely to know there was no real Shandese Ambassador named Femke, so she felt sure they would not inadvertently unmask her as a fraud. Also, it removed the problem of keeping a fictitious name at the forefront of her mind. Once the replacement servant had loaded his bags onto his packhorse, there was a quick round of introductions before Femke led them out onto the city streets.

  ‘We can do proper introductions as we ride,’ she said with a tone of authority. ‘There’ll be plenty of time to get to know one another before we reach Mantor.’

  After two weeks of travelling, Femke reflected on those departing words with a grimace. The spy had never been comfortable on a horse. Although she was a competent horsewoman, she had never derived pleasure from riding and did not ride often. Within five days of leaving Shandrim, Femke’s bottom was so sore that the rest of the journey became a physical torment, made worse by her four companions.

  The two soldiers, Sidis and Reynik, were cold and professional. Sidis held the rank of File Leader, whilst Reynik was a humble Legionnaire. Femke quickly formed the impression Reynik was shielding a pleasant personality under his cold exterior, but would not allow anything except the professional soldier to show in front of Sidis. The older soldier was a cold fish who had no time for civilians. Sidis clearly did not want to be on this mission. To him it was a babysitting job, unfitting for a soldier of his experience and rank. It was not long before Femke wished she could grant his obvious desire to be back with his Legion.

  As if the remoteness of the two soldiers were not enough, Femke also had to live with
the eccentricities of the two servants, Kalheen and Phagen. The servant who had joined them at the last moment, Phagen, was so quiet that he could have been mute. Femke eventually gave up trying to engage the slim young man in conversation. At best she could draw only one- or two-word answers. He appeared intelligent and capable enough, but was so introverted that Femke’s best efforts to include him in conversation fell flat.

  The one occasion when Phagen did come forward during the journey was when he realised that Femke was suffering with acute saddle-sores. He approached Femke discreetly at the campsite on the evening of the fifth day and gave her a salve for her aching posterior. The numbing effect of the cool salve gave such relief that it brought tears of thankfulness. Afterwards, Femke was far more willing to forgive his reticent nature.

  Kalheen was the antithesis of Phagen. He always had something to say. Stopping his incessant flow of monologues and reminiscences proved as impossible as getting Phagen to say more than ‘Yes, my Lady’ and ‘No, my Lady’. To begin with this was fine. Some of Kalheen’s stories were amusing – obviously hugely exaggerated, but they helped the miles roll past. His deep voice was expressive, and his pace and story construction showed qualities many bards lacked. However, each story would prompt another and then another in an endless stream. This became tiresome within a day.

  Where Phagen was thin as a pole, Kalheen tended towards fatness. At the campsites Kalheen always seemed to find the least physical tasks to do. This was not a problem, for the other three men and Femke were all fit, and happy to do the work, but after a few days it began to irk Femke that he shamelessly shirked physical effort whenever possible.

  Two days out of Shandrim, Femke was ready to throttle all her companions for one reason or another. If they had not been crucial to maintaining her façade as an ambassador, Femke would have dismissed them all. However, her party had been chosen for her and there was no time to exchange them, so Femke gritted her teeth and endured their idiosyncrasies.

  ‘Thank Shand!’ Femke sighed when they crested the ridge to the north of Mantor and saw the city for the first time. ‘Hold for a moment,’ she announced, deliberately interrupting Kalheen’s latest story mid-flow. ‘Let’s go over our plan again before we enter the city.’

  Everyone halted their horses and looked at her. Sidis wore an expression of bored disinterest, Kalheen looked irritated at having his story interrupted and Reynik appeared distracted. The young soldier kept looking towards Sidis as if seeking guidance on whether to listen to her, or ignore her. The only one who appeared to be attentive was Phagen. He looked embarrassed at the rudeness of the others. Though he said nothing, there was a flash of anger in his eyes as he glanced around at them.

  ‘All right men, I’ll keep this brief. When we enter the city we’ll head straight for the Palace. Ask for directions if necessary, but don’t be drawn into conversation. Keep heads and eyes straight ahead as much as you can. We must give the impression of discipline and focus. I hardly need remind you we’re here on behalf of the Emperor to speak to the King of this land. I’m not the only Ambassador here. Each of us is on display to the people of Thrandor today, so let’s show them we’ve come to do business. Sidis, Kalheen and Phagen will accompany me to the audience with the King. Reynik, if you can get leave to go out into the city, I want you to go and do the shopping we discussed. Please, all of you keep your eyes and ears open. Anything we can learn about these people and their customs will be useful information to report to the Emperor. We’re not here on a cloak and dagger mission so don’t do anything foolish. Is everyone clear on what they have to do?’

  The men all nodded and Femke met each set of eyes in turn as she swept her gaze around. They all returned her stare with enough confidence to satisfy her.

  ‘Very well, men, let’s go visit the King of Thrandor.’

  The two soldiers wheeled their horses and took the lead, with Reynik holding the white truce flag so that it fluttered above his head in the breeze. Femke took up position directly behind them and the two servants followed along at the rear, leading the short train of packhorses.

  The Thrandorians were curious to see Shandese folk visiting their capital under the white flag. All eyes followed them from the moment they arrived. The guards at the city gates were unwilling to let Femke and the others proceed inside the city without an escort. They insisted that Sidis and Reynik give up their weapons before entering, but Femke had anticipated this. The two soldiers handed their swords and bows over without argument. Then there followed a short delay while the Thrandorian soldiers raced to get four men mounted on horseback so they could accompany the Shandese group.

  The final ride through the city to the Palace took some time. The horses walked at a steady pace, but the city covered the entire hillside and the King’s Palace was at the summit. Femke kept her head forward the entire way, but her eyes were roving and her mind accumulating information about the city structure.

  Mantor’s hilltop construction was different from Shandrim’s. The relationship between wealth and position on the hillside made class distinction easy. As they climbed through the city, the houses became progressively more luxurious. Femke wondered how the darker elements of the city found this. Thieves would know which houses held the most potential loot, but one would also assume that if a militia patrol found someone in the higher levels of the city who did not belong there, then blame for any crime in the area would be automatically assigned. This was nothing like Shandrim, where there were rich and poor in every quarter of the city. The poorer elements could often be seen travelling through the streets of the wealthy in the Shandese capital. The structure of Mantor had advantages for maintaining order, though Femke found the arrangement alien and disturbing.

  Towards the top of the hill, Femke spotted three men walking into one of the larger dwellings. For an instant she could have sworn that the middle one of the three was Shalidar. A shiver went through her before common sense began to reassert itself. The chances of Shalidar being here in Mantor and walking within sight of Femke were preposterously slim. The resemblance was remarkable, but had to be coincidence. As the man and his associates slipped inside the building, Femke berated herself for being skittish.

  ‘Focus, Femke,’ she ordered herself sternly. ‘You haven’t time for foolishness.’

  When they reached the Palace there were the normal bureaucratic delays. Firstly, at the main gate the Royal Guards insisted on fetching the Captain before escorting them inside the Palace walls. When they walked up the great steps Femke marvelled at the grand, columned frontage. The stone steps climbed between two rows of shaped ornamental shrubs, before passing under a line of huge Royal banners that hung from horizontal flagpoles sticking out from the high rooftop.

  Before climbing the steps between the two central columns to the main doors, a backward glance rewarded her with an amazing view of the city spread below. Her wonder at this sight was interrupted by an odiously formal, immaculately-dressed man named Krider, who met them at the doors. He quizzed Femke on the nature of her visit, before insisting the three small chests of gifts from Emperor Surabar be emptied and thoroughly searched. These were then refilled and returned. Krider watched over every detail of this with hawk-like precision before directing other less senior members of the Royal household staff to take Femke and her companions to suitable waiting rooms. Femke and the others took the opportunity to get cleaned up and to change from their travel clothing into more formal wear for their audience with the King.

  The Shandese Ambassadorial party were not left alone for a second. At every step of the way from their entry into Mantor until they finally walked into the King’s audience chamber, someone maintained a watch over them. Afterwards, Femke realised it was not the constant monitoring that bothered her, but that not one of the faces was smiling, or pleased to see her. The first time Femke felt a hint of warmth was when she entered the King’s presence. But even then, the feeling was guarded.

  The Chief Butler, Veldan, escorte
d Femke and her three chosen gift-bearers to the King’s audience chamber. Veldan was cool in manner, but not hostile. To Veldan, Femke was simply another person to introduce to his Majesty, the King.

  ‘May I present Lady Femke, Ambassador of Shandar, your Majesty,’ Veldan announced. The waiting was over and her stomach churned with nervous anticipation.

  I should not be nervous she told herself silently. I walk into Emperor Surabar’s study without a second thought. This is no different.

  It was different, of course, but Femke controlled her nerves and smiled with every ounce of friendliness that she could muster as she entered the King’s chamber. To her relief the King smiled back with what looked to be a measure of genuine pleasure. King Malo was not alone and Femke took the opportunity to do a lightning scan of the room as she curtsied.

  ‘Welcome, Lady Femke. It’s always a pleasure to receive a peaceful emissary from our nearest neighbours. What brings you to my humble Kingdom?’ the King asked. His tone was friendly, holding warmth blended with a tinge of irony.

  Femke studied his face, which looked benevolent and wise. King Malo wore his age well. His silver hair complemented his simple gold crown. He sat straight, his eyes bright with intelligence. There was no place for unnecessary lies here, Femke realised.

  One close aide, two armed guards at the door and a young man who could be the King’s son sitting to one side, she noted. And Veldan, she added, completing her mental list by accounting for the footsteps behind her.

  ‘Your Majesty, his Imperial Majesty, Surabar, the new Emperor of Shandar, sends greetings and offers gifts of compensation for the recent unwarranted invasion of your Sovereign territory. He wishes to convey his apologies on behalf of the Empire and to seek a way of initiating a new era of trade and cooperation with Thrandor,’ she announced, pleased that she managed to inject both confidence and warmth into her tone. With a wave of her hand, Sidis, Kalheen and Phagen stepped forward and opened the boxes of treasure they bore.