by Peter McLean
‘Aye, well,’ I said. ‘I’m not like that.’
‘No, I know you’re not,’ Vogel said. ‘Each of my Queen’s Men have their own special skills, and I can make better use of you than this. You, Tomas, are justice walking; punisher and protector both. You are Brother Blade, after all, and your blade is double-edged.’
‘What do you have in mind?’
‘There’s a young boy of ten years,’ Vogel said. ‘A cousin of the royal house. He’s the son of the Grand Duke of Varnburg, who you may have met at court. The duke is the Prince Regent’s oldest friend and has lived in Dannsburg for many years, but the boy remains at home in the Sea Keep with his mother and a cadre of tutors and guards.’
I actually hadn’t met him, so far as I knew, but I remembered what Ailsa had told me of the Grand Duke of Varnburg. He was the queen’s cousin and next in the line of succession after the Princess Crown Royal. He is a . . . difficult man, she had said.
‘Sabine’s just come from Varnburg,’ I said, before I had time to think better of it.
Vogel looked at me for a long moment without speaking.
‘She has,’ he said at last.
I decided it was probably best to withhold any more opinions on that subject. All the same, I could see where this was going. Vogel wanted the boy as a hostage to encourage the duke to become somewhat less difficult, that was plain enough.
‘And you want this little boy kidnapped, do you?’ I asked, already dreading the answer.
‘Absolutely not,’ Vogel said, which was both a relief and something of a surprise. ‘Quite the opposite, in fact. I want him protected, Tomas. I want him protected at all costs, and brought here safely to the capital. Varnburg is too far north for comfort. The Skanian trade ships dock there, and who can tell when there may be assassins hidden among their crews? This little boy, you see, is next in the line of succession after our own beloved Princess Crown Royal.’
I frowned at that, thinking on what Ailsa had told me about the order of succession. ‘Surely that would be his father the Grand Duke, the queen’s own cousin?’
‘No. Well, yes, at this precise moment. Not by the time you return with the boy.’
I met Vogel’s soulless eyes, and I understood. This was a further consolidation of power, of undermining the prince’s support in the palace. The Grand Duke was the Prince Regent’s oldest friend, apparently, and right then that was a very unhealthy thing to be. With him and Hristokov both gone, First Councillor Lan Letskov and the Prince Regent would both be nothing but powerless figureheads, and Vogel’s newly united and loyal governing council could rule as they saw fit.
‘Go to Varnburg. Attend to the boy, tell him of his father’s sudden and tragic passing from an attack of the heart, and that he is Grand Duke now. You have a son yourself, you’ll know the right sort of thing to say. I’ve noticed that you are good with young people, Tomas, in a way that the majority of my Queen’s Men are not.’
I thought of Konrad, of Sabine and Ilse, and I had to allow that he was probably right about that.
‘Take the two women in your service with you,’ Vogel continued. ‘The boy is used to the company of women, his mother and tutors and so forth. They may help put him at his ease.’
Neither Anne nor Rosie were exactly what you might call motherly, but I’d work with what I had. Rosie might manage sisterly at a push, I supposed, and that gave me an idea.
‘Yes, sir,’ I said. ‘My Billy too. Another lad will do the young duke good.’
Vogel waved a hand in a way that said he wasn’t interested in details, just results.
‘Whatever you think is best,’ he said, and with that I was dismissed.
*
‘Where?’ Anne said blankly when I told them.
‘Varnburg,’ Rosie said, repeating my earlier words. ‘It’s north and west of here, on the coast. A port city, but more than that I don’t know, and I don’t know a soul there either. We’ll be going in blind, Tomas, and I don’t like that.’
‘No, nor do I,’ I said, ‘but it’s where we’ve been sent. What do we know of this Sea Keep?’
Rosie spread her hands helplessly.
‘It’s the seat of the Duchy of Varnburg,’ she said. ‘Other than that, fuck all, I’m afraid.’
Beast cleared his throat. The huge man had barely left Anne’s side since that day at the Spring of Mercy, and he was standing behind her chair now like a bodyguard with his head almost brushing the ceiling of the Bountiful Harvest’s private dining room. He was rapidly beginning to regain his truly impressive bulk. He had been eating like a horse ever since he had been freed, and had taken up lifting heavy barrels and sacks of grain in the stable yard of the inn whenever he had the chance. I thought he was probably already stronger than me and Jochan combined.
‘Something on your mind?’ I asked him.
‘My wife was from Varnburg, sir,’ he said. ‘We visited her family there a time or two, her mam and da and that. I know my way around the place. Might be I could help.’
‘Aye,’ I said. ‘I reckon you could, at that. All right, you’re coming.’
‘When do we leave?’ Anne asked.
‘Tomorrow,’ I said. ‘Lord Vogel isn’t a man you keep waiting when he sets you a task.’
‘It’s a long way,’ Rosie said. ‘Three weeks at least by carriage, probably more like four. That’s if the weather holds fair, and the year isn’t getting any younger. I’ll organise what we need for the road.’
I nodded and let her get on with it. Rosie knew what she was about. Riding would have been quicker than a carriage, of course, but we could scarcely expect a grief-stricken ten-year-old Grand Duke to travel so far ahorse in late autumn weather and Rosie had seen that. I was fast coming to realise that she was very, very good at this.
The year was beginning to turn by then, as Rosie said, and her point about hoping the weather held was a good one. If it didn’t we could be a month and more getting to Varnburg and even longer returning, and I didn’t want that. I offered up a silent prayer to Our Lady for fair travelling, knowing as I did it that it was futile. Our Lady didn’t answer prayers, after all.
If She had, I wouldn’t have been in this situation in the first place.
*
Our Lady and the Stormlord were both kind, or more likely indifferent, and the weather stayed fine and dry as our carriage made its slow way through the countryside on the long road to Varnburg. The land was streaked with the rich colours of autumn now, the harvest long since brought in, and everywhere around us ploughmen toiled to turn their fields in preparation for the late planting. The journey took us weeks and I’ll not record the details here, save for one thing.
There was a night we stopped at a country inn at the crossroads of a little market town, our great carriage looking out of place in a yard crowded with simple carts and wains. This was farming country after all, and although the common room of the inn was warm and the food hearty, it was plain our faces didn’t fit there.
I had left Fat Luka behind to mind my affairs in Dannsburg, and Oliver and Emil to mind him, so it was Anne and Rosie, young Billy and Beast and our coachman and me that sat down in a room filled with ruddy-faced farmers and their sons and daughters and wives. We were too well dressed for that company and we had come in a carriage, and while the threat wasn’t open it was there nonetheless, simmering under a surface tension of people who had worked their hands raw on the ploughs all day. I could understand hard work, coming from the Stink as I had, but I am a city man born and bred and I’ve never worked the land a day in my life.
After a while it became uncomfortably apparent that our clothes and our carriage weren’t the real problem. Anne and Rosie were visibly together, and why not? In Dannsburg and even Ellinburg no one gave them a second look for that, but here? Here perhaps it was different, as it had been in the village where Anne grew up. Rosie’s bright-red hair and the yellow cord knotted on her shoulder were drawing stares that I didn’t like. The three farmers at t
he next table to us were becoming increasingly loud in their derision, one older man and two burly youths who might have been his younger brothers or eldest sons.
‘It’s like the fucking city air makes people forget what they’ve got between their legs and what it’s for,’ one said, loud enough to be overheard, and I saw Anne stiffen in irritation.
‘Aye,’ said his fellow. ‘Women are supposed to lie with men, not each other, it’s only right. It’s what the Harvest Maiden intended. I’ve said it over and over again. T’ain’t right, otherwise.’
‘Give it a rest now, boys,’ the older farmer said. ‘You’re just flogging a dead whore.’
He smirked to say he had misspoken on purpose, and the two young men with him snorted laughter.
Anne wasn’t laughing, and neither was I.
‘Is that supposed to be fucking funny?’ Anne rasped as she turned in her chair to face them, her voice dropping into the low tone of danger to come.
That, I thought, had been a very unwise thing to say in front of Bloody Anne. I thought about telling her to be calm, and decided against it. Why the fuck should she be calm, in the face of that?
‘It’s just a jest,’ the man said, but I could tell he had read the look on her face and not liked what he had seen there.
His face flushed, darkening to the colour of salted gammon as the room fell silent around us.
‘You make jokes about dead whores?’ Anne whispered.
‘Anne, love, I’ve heard worse,’ Rosie started, reaching out to put a restraining hand on her arm, but Anne shrugged her off and rose to her feet.
‘Da,’ Billy started, but I cut him off.
‘Hush now, lad,’ I said. ‘Not yet. Not at all, if we can help it. Not here.’
The last thing we needed was the boy unleashing his cunning for all to see in a place like this. Witchcraft, they’d have called that, I had no doubt, and then we’d have had the whole town to face instead of just a handful of drunken farmers.
‘Come outside with me,’ Anne said to the red-faced man. ‘Come outside and explain your fucking jest.’
He stood up and so did his two friends, and I rose too and then Beast got to his feet beside me and that put a stop to that right then.
‘This is between my friend and yours,’ I said. ‘Best not interfere, lads.’
Beast folded his huge arms in front of his chest and treated them to a glare, and they sat down again and stared into their mugs of beer, not meeting his eyes.
‘Outside,’ Anne said. ‘Now.’
The farmer touched the knife at his belt and spat on the floor, and he marched purposefully out of the inn into the yard where the shithouse was. He had balls, I had to give him that. I wondered how much longer he was likely to keep them.
I had long since learned that Bloody Anne fought her own battles and that I should leave her to it if I knew what was good for me. I slowly regained my seat and picked up my brandy glass, but I didn’t drink. The farmer’s two friends or brothers or sons were still casting dirty glances my way when they thought I wasn’t looking, but it seemed the sheer size of Beast was enough to dissuade them from doing anything more. That was wise of them.
A minute or two later Bloody Anne stalked back into the inn and sat down at our table. She picked up her brandy and knocked it back in a single swallow, and Rosie poured her another in silence from the bottle we shared. The two farmers at the next table got up and hurried out into the yard.
They didn’t come back again.
‘That’s done, then,’ Anne said. ‘He ain’t dead, before you ask, but he won’t be walking any time soon.’
I saw the smile on Rosie’s face, and I admired it. There was pride in that smile, and there was love too.
‘Good,’ I said, and left it at that.
‘Can I ask you something, boss?’ Beast said.
‘Aye, course,’ I said, and swallowed my brandy. ‘What’s on your mind?’
‘That warrant of yours ain’t magic, is it?’
‘No, Beast, it’s not,’ I said. ‘It’s a symbol of royal authority, and that’s powerful enough, but that’s all it is. There’s no magic in it.’
He nodded thoughtfully. ‘Didn’t think so,’ he said after a moment. ‘So if that had gone bad, out here in the country where you’ve no City Guard to back you up . . . it wouldn’t have turned out well for us, would it?’
‘We’d have had a fight on our hands, aye,’ I said.
‘There must be forty of the fuckers in here,’ Beast said.
‘I didn’t say we’d have won,’ I said.
Beast blew his cheeks out in a sigh, and I poured him another drink.
‘This is dangerous work we do,’ I reminded him. ‘I don’t believe I promised you otherwise when you joined us.’
‘Perhaps not,’ he said, and took a sip of his brandy. ‘I’m not a coward, boss, I just want to understand how this works, that’s all.’
‘Aye, that’s fair,’ I said. ‘I’m no magician, Beast, but if it ever all looks like it’s going down the shithouse, you remember one thing – Billy here is.’
Beast turned and stared at the boy, his eyes widening in his scarred face.
‘Your lad?’
‘Aye,’ I said, and Billy flushed slightly at the attention. ‘Billy is a cunning man the likes of which even the house of magicians fears.’
‘Fuck,’ Beast said, and I found I could only agree with him about that.
‘We ought to go to bed,’ Rosie said, and Anne nodded and swallowed her second brandy before she stood.
‘Aye, let’s do that,’ she said.
They walked away from the table and up the stairs together holding hands, and no one said a fucking word about it.
Chapter 30
I had thirty-seven, maybe thirty-eight years to me at the time, and I had never seen the sea before.
Varnburg was magnificent. The city was walled, the harbour fortified with great arms of stone that reached out into the bay and sheltered the various tall ships and little boats that bobbed calmly at their moorings within its comforting embrace. Beyond, the sea was a wild animal of greys and greens and white. A fierce wind was blowing from the north and the water hurled itself against the harbour walls, throwing great plumes of foaming spray twenty feet and more into the air. It was very, very cold.
We were standing on the high cliffs within the city itself, looking down past the round towers with their bristling cannon that guarded this vital port from the constant threat of invasion, and over the roofs of the dockside wharves and warehouses. The smell of salt was strong, the air singing with a freshness that I had never known before in my life. We were so far from the piss-reek of Ellinburg’s tanneries and the death stench of Abingon that I could have wept for joy.
‘Thought you’d want to see it, boss,’ Beast said quietly beside me, and all I could do was nod.
‘It’s incredible,’ Anne said quietly, and on instinct I reached out and took her hand.
She squeezed my fingers in her callused palm for a moment, and I knew we were feeling the same emotions. After how we had both grown up – in different places and different ways, perhaps, but with no happier an outcome – after all we had been through together in Messia and in Abingon, the sea was a revelation.
It was cleansing, somehow. Awe-inspiring. Wondrous.
It went on forever, stretching out to the distant curve of the horizon where the sky met the endless water in a haze of silver light. The waves rushed in, rolling curls of foam chasing each other one after another after another like it would never end, like the very edge of the world.
‘What’s out there, Papa?’ Billy asked me.
‘I have no idea,’ I said, and I smiled at him. ‘Sea monsters, perhaps. Strange lands, stranger gods. It could be anything, lad.’
‘Skania is out there, beyond the horizon,’ Rosie said.
I gave her a look. Aye, she was right, of course she was, but couldn’t she let me have this one moment of wonder with my son?
No, no, of course she couldn’t. We were Queen’s Men, and wonder is a luxury not permitted to us. We deal in facts and suspicions, not wonder and joy. There is no place for joy in the Queen’s Men.
‘Aye,’ I said, and I swallowed the bitterness in my heart with the salt tang of the air. ‘We’ve work to do.’
Anne let go of my hand at once, and I felt the loss of her touch as keenly as a pang of guilt. That moment was over, just another thing the Queen’s Men had taken away from me. I turned to Beast.
‘I need to find the Grand Duke,’ I said. ‘His son, I mean. The heir. His boy.’
I was babbling, I realised, falling over my words in a fast-failing attempt to keep from weeping. My first sight of the sea had affected me in a way I hadn’t expected. To have that wonder taken away from me so soon had hurt, and I won’t lie about that. I could have stood there for hours just watching it, but life isn’t always what we want it to be and my cold devil knew that better than most. That devil hardened my heart now and I turned my back on the magnificent vista and looked up into the city itself, at the stout stone buildings and the distant spire of their Great Temple of All Gods.
‘Well, sir,’ Beast said, ‘I know I told you I knew the city, and I do, but I ain’t the sort to have mixed with dukes. I know where to get good food, where to find a bed without too many lice in the mattress, and which taverns don’t water their beer, but I’ve never found no duke’s son before.’
‘The Sea Keep,’ Rosie said at once, and pointed up across the wide esplanade where we were standing to the heights of a great square stone building that was flying the royal standard. ‘That’s where he’ll be, Tomas.’
The huge red and white banner snapped and cracked in the wind, so obvious I felt something of a fool for not having noticed it myself. The majesty of the sea had stolen my senses, I am ashamed to admit, and diverted my attention away from the real things that mattered in the real world. Joy has no place in the life of a Queen’s Man, I should have realised that by then. I stamped on my emotions with all the ruthlessness I could muster and gave Rosie a nod.
‘Aye,’ I said, ‘of course. Come on, then, let’s get this done.’