Imperial Spy

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Imperial Spy Page 22

by Mark Robson


  ‘Excuse me, but would it be possible to get Lord Danar’s saddlebags cleaned and waxed?’ she asked politely. ‘If not, then I’ll happily do it myself – all I need is the appropriate cleaning materials. I used the last of our supplies yesterday and we didn’t have time to stop in the city for more.’

  ‘Don’t worry your head about it, lad,’ the matronly lady replied kindly. ‘Give them to me and I’ll have the stable boys clean them up like new. It’s good to give them something useful to do, other than mucking out the stables and polishing tack that doesn’t need it.’

  ‘Thank you, that’s most kind,’ Femke said gratefully. ‘My master also asked me to prepare a bath for him. Can you show me where I can get hot water? It will take a lot of trips to fill the tub in the bathing room and I’d like to get started.’

  The two Royal house staff members smiled at one another with smugly superior grins.

  ‘Oh, you don’t need to worry about carrying pails of water around this Palace, lad,’ the man said, his tone mirroring his smug grin. ‘Hot water can be pumped into the tub through a special system of piping. Here, let me show you.’

  Femke already knew about the piped hot water, but it was important to build her character with those who would see her most. Once established as a young male servant who knew nothing and followed orders blindly, then the house staff would see nothing else.

  ‘Pipe system? I’ve never heard of such a thing!’ Femke exclaimed, allowing her eyes to go wide with feigned amazement. ‘I confess I wasn’t looking forward to filling that mammoth tub. I’d have been back and forth all night!’

  The man and woman laughed warmly and the woman patted Femke gently on the arm.

  ‘Don’t you worry,’ the woman assured her. ‘Regis here will show you how it works and you can amaze your master by leading him to the biggest, hottest bathtub he’s seen in many a year.’

  Femke chuckled appreciatively, keeping her voice from slipping out of the deeper notes into its normal register.

  ‘That would be great,’ she enthused. ‘It’s always good to keep one step ahead of the old man.’

  ‘I would like to place a contract,’ Reynik said quietly, looking around to ensure that nobody was within earshot. ‘A final contract, if you get my meaning?’

  ‘I’m not sure I do, sir,’ the butler replied, looking blankly at Reynik. ‘My master has asked me to ensure he’s not disturbed this afternoon. He conducts most of his business transactions in the morning. Would you like me to book you an appointment to meet with him? I should be able to fit you into his schedule sometime early next week.’

  Reynik gave the butler a withering look. ‘Tell your master there’s someone at his door who is willing to pay two thousand gold Thrandorian crowns for a final contract. I’d heard he was in business to supply the sort of results I require, but if my information is incorrect then I’ll go elsewhere.’

  ‘I’ll deal with this thank you, Hanri.’

  Shalidar appeared out of a side door into the hallway behind the butler and waved the pristinely dressed old fellow aside. Reynik’s heart skipped a beat. It was him! Shalidar was the assassin who had killed his uncle. There was no doubt. That face had been imprinted on his mind. Anger flashed through him, threatening to take over. A burning desire for revenge swelled inside him, but he fought the inner battle well, keeping his exterior cool. He met the assassin’s eyes with a calm veneer as Shalidar surveyed Reynik, looking him up and down as if searching for something.

  Reynik’s mind raced. Did he know? Had Shalidar recognised him? Was his inner anger transmitting?

  ‘I think you’d better come inside for a chat,’ he said finally, standing to one side and gesturing for Reynik to enter. ‘However, before you enter I should warn you of something.’

  ‘Yes?’ Reynik asked, his voice calm, but his mind apprehensive.

  ‘If I get the slightest inkling you’re not telling the truth, I will not hesitate to kill you.’

  ‘I take it my information about your second profession is correct. You do deal in final contracts?’

  ‘Come inside,’ Shalidar ordered in a tone that brooked no disobedience.

  Reynik complied. As the door swung shut behind him, he tasted fear in the back of his throat. There was no place for fear here. He ruthlessly drove the emotion back down into the depths of his heart. Shalidar must not suspect anything was amiss.

  ‘Go through to my drawing room,’ Shalidar said, his voice again commanding. ‘It’s the second door on the left. Hanri, bring us some wine in about two minutes, would you?’

  The butler bowed and disappeared off down the long entrance hall with a steady stride. Reynik entered the drawing room as he had been directed and looked around with what he hoped was a casually interested air as he walked straight into the heart of the room. The room held plenty of interest to look at. There were bookcases on every wall, together with delightful pictures of a high quality – all skilfully mounted and framed. Two were superb depictions of dragons, which Reynik quickly discovered was a theme that ran through the room. There was a dragon ornament, exquisitely made in intricate detail, placed tastefully in what looked like a purpose made alcove. A small decorative table in the centre of the room had carved dragons for legs and a dragon motif embroidered on the tablecloth. Also, in pride of place on the mantelpiece, a beautiful silver bowl was displayed. Reynik marvelled at the skill of the silversmith who had made it, for there was a beautifully crafted circle of dragons and firedrakes chasing one another around the outer edge.

  There had been no expense spared in this room, Reynik observed, rapidly totting up his estimation of the value of some of the items in his head. If all the other rooms held objects of similar value, the house was worth a fortune.

  ‘So, what is your business with me and why have you approached me in such a fashion?’ Shalidar asked bluntly, his eyes narrowed slightly as he watched Reynik’s response minutely.

  ‘My master wants a termination service performed. He instructed me to make contact with you to determine if his information about your other career in Shandar was correct. If it is, then he’s willing to pay two thousand gold crowns for your services.’

  Shalidar looked at Reynik thoughtfully for a moment or two and his eyes narrowed further.

  ‘Assuming that I were in the business you describe, two thousand in gold is a very large sum of money. Exactly who are we talking about terminating here? If it’s Royalty, you can leave the house now. I’m not getting involved in anything which could result in treason charges.’

  ‘No, no, it’s nothing like that,’ Reynik said smoothly. ‘My master has reason to want rid of the new Shandese Ambassador who arrived in Mantor this afternoon. I’m told his name is Lord Danar of the Imperial Court of Shandar. Does the name mean anything to you?’

  ‘I know the name,’ Shalidar admitted, relaxing slightly, but still maintaining a high level of alertness. ‘May I ask the reason for the termination?’

  ‘My master did not confide that information.’

  Shalidar looked deeply into Reynik’s eyes for several seconds. Reynik stared back with what he hoped was a suitable degree of calm. As the seconds ticked by, Reynik could feel his cool façade being eroded by Shalidar’s gaze. The urge to leave became steadily stronger. Finally, Shalidar spoke again.

  ‘Why were you watching my house the other day? My men have confirmed it was you, so there’s no point in denying it. They led me to believe they had given you enough of a beating that I wouldn’t be seeing you again. It appears that they were frugal with the truth.’

  Reynik smiled slightly, though he was now feeling the fringes of panic touch his gut. ‘I was watching the house for signs that there was more to you than your merchant persona. Your men gave no reason for their unfriendly behaviour, so I assumed they were common hoodlums. I’m sorry if they were a little the worse for wear afterwards, but they didn’t stop to introduce themselves.’

  ‘There’s nothing to apologise for. If the four of
them could not best you, then they’re not worth the money I’ve been paying them. They will be looking for alternative employment tomorrow.’ Shalidar paused for a moment, looking thoughtful again. ‘Very well, I’ll accept the contract – on the following terms. The fee is two thousand five hundred gold pieces. One thousand five hundred will be delivered in advance; the other thousand will be due on confirmation that the job is complete. There will be no further negotiation. Your master either accepts, or he goes elsewhere.’

  Reynik bowed in response.

  ‘My master anticipated your raising the price, sir. Your terms are acceptable. I will deliver the gold in one hour, but there is one final thing.’

  ‘What is that?’

  ‘The job must be done quickly. It’s said the Shandese Emperor will arrive in a few days. My master wants rid of the Ambassador before the Emperor arrives,’ Reynik said.

  ‘That won’t be a problem.’

  Shalidar put forward his hand to shake on the deal. As Reynik clasped the assassin’s hand in the accepted fashion of accepting a deal, the killer’s sleeve rode up his arm a little, revealing a tight-fitting silver wristband that sported a dragon as its central feature. Apparently, Shalidar had something of a fascination with the mythical creatures.

  ‘So when will the job be completed?’ he asked, being careful not to allow his eyes to linger on the wristband.

  ‘Before your master’s deadline. That’s all you need to know. Ah, Hanri – the wine. Thank you. Now, shall we drink a toast?’

  ‘A pleasure,’ Reynik answered. ‘What shall we drink to?’

  Shalidar poured two glasses of deep red wine and handed one to Reynik.

  ‘To a swift and successful conclusion to our business,’ Shalidar offered, raising his glass slightly.

  Reynik raised his glass in response and took a slow sip. I’ll drink to that, he thought silently.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  ‘Thank you very much . . . No, nothing else, thanks. I’ll send my servant boy out if I require anything.’

  Danar closed the door with a sigh and leaned against it briefly before turning around to look at the room.

  ‘Is my Lord ready for his bath now?’ Femke asked casually from a large sofa. She was sitting with her feet up, drinking a glass of water.

  ‘Make yourself comfortable. Don’t mind me,’ Danar said sarcastically. ‘A bath would be wonderful right now. I don’t suppose you’d like to start drawing the water for me? I mean, I wouldn’t want to distract you from your other duties or anything.’

  ‘Consider it done, my Lord,’ Femke replied, her voice heavy with subservience. ‘If my Lord would like to take a look in the bathing room my Lord will find his heart’s desire.’

  ‘I doubt that,’ Danar replied with a tired grin. ‘Unless you’re clever enough to be in two places at once.’

  ‘Very droll, Danar, though actually, if you think about it, I am! I’m here with you, yet I’m also in the King’s dungeons,’ she replied. ‘The bathing room is through that door. I think you’ll find the water temperature to your liking.’

  ‘There’s no chance of you scrubbing my back, I suppose?’ Danar asked wistfully.

  ‘As much chance as there is of Lady Alyssa walking in from the hallway right now,’ Femke replied airily. ‘Everything you need is in there. Here, take a drink with you. We can talk about your conversation with the King when you’ve cleaned and changed. I’ve laid out a change of clothes.’

  ‘Thanks,’ Danar said. ‘I won’t be long.’

  ‘Take your time. There’s no rush. I doubt we’ll see Shalidar tonight, but I’ve rigged the windows just in case. When you’re ready for bed, I’ll rig the door as well. If Shalidar comes, we’ll get plenty of warning.’

  ‘We? So you’re going to stay here tonight?’

  ‘Don’t get any ideas, Danar. This is serious.’

  ‘So am I,’ he muttered under his breath as he went into the bathroom. ‘But you think I’m toying with you.’

  A little while later Danar emerged from the bathroom wearing the silk shirt and hose that Femke had placed in the bathing room for him. His eyes were sparkling with renewed energy and his dimpled cheeks were glowing with the aftereffects of the bath. His dark hair was still wet, but was combed back neatly over his head with a wave at the front that accentuated his roguish looks. Femke eyed him up and down with a cool objectiveness.

  ‘Feeling better?’ she asked.

  ‘Much, thank you.’

  ‘Good, now come and tell me what the King had to say.’

  Danar walked across the room towards Femke, but changed his mind halfway, choosing a chair on the other side of the low rectangular dahl table in the centre of the room. He sank into the chair with a gentle sigh, then reached for the jug of cold water on the table and poured some into a crystal glass.

  ‘The King is not happy—’ Danar started, taking a sip of water.

  ‘You don’t say,’ Femke muttered.

  ‘If you’ll let me finish – the King is not happy because he’s having second thoughts about whether Ambassador Femke killed Baron Anton and Count Dreban,’ Danar said firmly, his eyes sterner than Femke had ever seen them before. In this more masterful guise she could imagine Danar being an effective Lord. After all his impulsive gestures and his boyish romanticism, this came as a genuine surprise.

  ‘Really? Now that is news,’ Femke replied.

  ‘Yes . . . and no,’ Danar said thoughtfully. ‘King Malo is obviously a thinker. He’s clearly reviewed the facts and drawn his own conclusions about the two murders, but he was reticent about sharing his theories with me about who did kill Anton and Dreban. He mentioned you looked convincing in your servant’s uniform when they caught and imprisoned you and commented that you were nobody’s fool. I don’t think you’re totally off the hook in his mind. He told me his new advisor on matters magical had cautioned him to be careful in negotiations with you, because he considered you to be particularly sharp-witted. Therefore, King Malo could not make sense of why you would kill both Anton and Dreban with weapons which were clearly your own. That isn’t to say he’s ruled out the possibility altogether.’

  ‘Good logic,’ Femke commented.

  ‘Good for you too, when it comes to your trial,’ Danar said positively. ‘The way he spoke about you initially made me think he was halfway to believing you innocent. However, he may have said it for diplomacy’s sake. The King stressed to me that I wasn’t to feel unwelcome because of the “unfortunate events” that occurred during your short stay. He suggested I remain here in the West Wing unless I was going to and from pre-arranged meetings with him, to minimise the chances of any repeat embarrassments. I said I would comply with his wishes whilst in the Palace, but I didn’t like being cooped up all day every day. The King was gracious. He suggested I take walks in the Palace grounds where the guards could monitor me, or us, if you wished to join me. He said it was for our own safety. He cited the demonstration at the gate the other day as a clear sign that the general populace here in the city are in a volatile mood.’

  ‘Huh!’ Femke huffed. ‘So we’re rats in a trap. What other restrictions did he place on us?’

  ‘We’re not to leave the West Wing without an escort and we’re not allowed to visit Ambassador Femke,’ Danar said, his voice and facial expression showing no humour in the strangeness of that statement.

  Femke nodded, a small smile flickering across her face. ‘It’s for the best. We would be exposed as untrustworthy if we tried.’

  ‘I was thinking the same,’ Danar said. ‘Our discredit would be a diplomatic disaster on a scale that even Emperor Surabar would have problems fixing. It’s fortunate for us that the possibility of a visit to the prison has been removed.’

  ‘OK, so you’re effectively confined to quarters. I’ll be able to move a bit more freely around the Palace, as I can always “get lost” whilst running errands for you. I never did have a good head for direction. No matter how hard I try, I always seem to end
up in places that I’m not meant to be,’ Femke said with a grin. ‘Overall, the situation has worked out well. It limits the number of avenues for Shalidar to attempt his hit. It will make it far easier to watch for him and to protect you whilst you’re confined to such a limited field of movement.’

  Femke looked thoughtful for a moment or two and then smiled across at Danar. ‘Things are beginning to swing in our favour. Let’s hope we can give the final proof to the King that I’m innocent of the murders before the Emperor arrives, shall we?’

  ‘Sounds good to me.’

  ‘OK, I’ll rig the door now – unless you have anything else you require from outside?’

  ‘Food would be good at some point,’ he replied, rubbing his stomach slightly to emphasise his requirement. ‘How long will it take to disable whatever it is you’re about to set up?’

  ‘A few seconds,’ Femke assured him. ‘If someone knocks at the door it won’t be a problem. The alarm will be rigged to alert us when someone is entering who hasn’t knocked. The problem then is that Shalidar will come armed to the teeth and we haven’t got a single regular weapon between us. I’ll try to rectify that tonight if I can. If it proves impossible, I’ll get us something to improvise with.’

  Femke got to her feet and started to move towards the door. Danar rose as well, intercepting her before she had gone more than a few paces. Before Femke realised what was happening Danar had put an arm around her waist and pulled her body close up against his. The kiss started as a one-sided affair, but after a couple of seconds Femke found herself kissing him back with a passion she had not realised she possessed. They finally parted and Danar breathed a deep sigh of satisfaction.

  ‘Thank you,’ he breathed, his mouth close to her ear as he continued to hold her tightly.

  ‘For what?’ Femke replied. ‘For the kiss, the bath, or for trying to keep you alive?’

  ‘For everything,’ he whispered. ‘For being the most amazing, most daring, most devastatingly attractive, surprising, remarkable woman I’ve ever met – and yes, for the kiss too. I’ve waited a long time for it.’

 

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