Part 12 (1/2)
CHAPTER 7.
”Where is Andrei?” Celestine demanded. She had left Jagu alone with Andrei over the remains of their meal for only a few minutes while she collected a letter from the customs house, and now there was no sign of the prince.
”He went out for a walk along the jetty. Said he needed time to think. He's still cut up over the old man's death.”
”How could you let him out of your sight?” Sometimes she did not understand Jagu at all.
Jagu sighed and pointed out of the window. The sun was setting over Haeven and had half sunk beneath the low clouds, illuminating the western horizon with a vivid dazzle of stormy gold. A lone figure stood silhouetted against the evening light. ”He's not our prisoner, Celestine. We can't keep him confined.”
”But if anyone were to recognize him-”
”Prince Andrei always went clean-shaven. With that fisherman's beard, no one will give him a second look.”
”I'll go give this letter to him.”
”Better wrap up, then. The air is damp tonight and you don't want to catch a chill before Swanholm.”
She stuck out her tongue at him. Why did he have to treat her like a child? ”As if I'd be so foolish...”
”What a dramatic sunset,” Celestine said as she approached Andrei. ”You're an experienced sailor; does such a sky herald another storm?”
”No,” he said. He seemed distant, hardly turning to acknowledge her presence. ”The weather can prove fickle off these sh.o.r.es, even for the most experienced sailor.”
”I have news for you from King Enguerrand.” She handed him a sealed letter.
He broke the seal and stared at the strange dashes and symbols, perplexed. ”Is this some new Francian alphabet? It means nothing to me.”
”It's encrypted,” Celestine said, unable to repress a smile at his evident confusion. ”Don't worry; Jagu has the key at the tavern.” She slipped her hand beneath his arm. ”Let's go back now before I catch cold out here and ruin my voice.”
To our royal cousin, Andrei Orlov of Muscobar, from Enguerrand of Francia:We are most heartily relieved to hear of your miraculous rescue. Please rest a.s.sured that news of your survival will not be revealed until you judge the time is right to do so.We extend the hand of friends.h.i.+p to you and a.s.sure you of a warm welcome at our royal court. We also have new intelligence of events that took place toward the end of last year, which will both disturb and intrigue you.Our representative in New Rossiya, Amba.s.sador d'Abrissard, has some proposals to make, which we believe will be to our mutual benefit...
Andrei was rowed out through a brisk dawn breeze to meet with Fabien d'Abrissard aboard s.h.i.+p.
”Eugene's agents are everywhere,” the amba.s.sador said as he welcomed Andrei into his paneled stateroom in the stern. ”Here, at least, we are on Francian territory. Coffee to warm you this chilly morning?”
”Thank you.” The square windowpanes afforded a view over the Straits: an expanse of rain-grey sea and pale clouds.
The amba.s.sador clicked his fingers and his butler poured Andrei coffee in a delicate white-and-gold cup. After living so long in a poor fisherman's cottage, Andrei had grown unused to such refinements and handled the flimsy china nervously.
”And our guest might appreciate a dash of brandy.” Had Abrissard seen his hands tremble? The amba.s.sador's expression gave nothing away; although his lips smiled at Andrei, his manner was cool and detached. The butler added a measure of brandy to Andrei's cup and discreetly withdrew, closing the door softly behind him. For a moment the only sound was the lapping of the water against the s.h.i.+p as it bobbed gently at anchor.
”Were you aware that the power behind Eugene's empire is one Kaspar Linnaius, a renegade scientist, wanted for crimes in Francia?” Abrissard asked.
Andrei shook his head.
”We have reason to believe that this same Kaspar Linnaius was responsible for the sinking of your s.h.i.+p.”
”Sinking the Sirin? Sirin? But how? She went down in a storm.” But how? She went down in a storm.”
”A storm that came out of nowhere on a calm night? A similar event occurred some years ago in the reign of Prince Karl, when the Francian fleet was wrecked by a disastrous storm.”
”But what possible proof could you have?” burst out Andrei.
”The testimonies furnished by two of Linnaius's fellow mages some years back, under torture,” said Abrissard smoothly. ”They confirmed that this self-styled Magus can command and control the winds.”
”But... that's preposterous.”
”We have a witness. The night of the storm, one of the grooms at the Palace of Swanholm confirms that he saw Linnaius create a storm that brought down trees in the parkland. I should emphasize that this intelligence is of the highest confidentiality.”
Andrei sat back, trying to grasp the full implications of what Abrissard was saying.
”This should not be so difficult for you to accept, Andrei Orlov,” said Abrissard in the softest, smoothest of voices. ”You, who have been touched by a daemon.”
”You're implying that Eugene ordered Linnaius to sink my s.h.i.+p? Doesn't that count as a.s.sa.s.sination?” At first, the news had left him stunned; then anger began to burn through.
Abrissard shrugged eloquently. ”In war, such terms do not apply.”
”And my sister has married this man!” Andrei could sit still no longer; he rose and strode to the window to gaze out at the sea. A watery sun had begun to show beneath the clouds, catching the tops of the waves with flecks of silvery gold.
”You're an ambitious young man, Andrei Orlov. Do you care about the future of Muscobar?”
”Of course I do!” Andrei said hotly.
”Then come to Francia. King Enguerrand a.s.sures you of the warmest welcome at his court. He has great plans for the future. Those plans will include you, if you wish.”
Andrei turned and stared at Abrissard. He heard what the amba.s.sador was saying, yet not putting into words. Francia had old scores to settle with Tielen.
”And Astasia?”
Abrissard's proud gaze grew colder. ”Your sister has committed herself to Eugene. It may be difficult to persuade her to change her allegiance.”
”Your amba.s.sador asked me to give you this.” Andrei handed a sealed letter to Celestine.
”Thank you.” Celestine felt a little s.h.i.+ver of excitement as she took it from him, recognizing from the firm handwriting that it came from Ruaud de Lanvaux. If the Maistre had given his blessing to her plan, then she would need all her courage and ingenuity to try to entrap the Magus. She was desperately eager to open it straightaway, but because of the sensitive nature of its subject matter, she retired to her room to read the Maistre's instructions.
Yet when she broke the seal, she found the message inside was frustratingly brief: ”Do whatever you judge is necessary to achieve your goal; but be discreet-and above all, be very careful. Extra funds will follow to cover any necessary expenses.”
”So here you are at last!” A ginger-haired man came into the room, shaking the raindrops from his greatcoat.
”Kilian!” Jagu rose and hurried over to give him a welcoming hug. ”What brings you to Tielen?”
”I've been chasing across half the quadrant to catch up with you two. Don't you ever stay more than a couple of days in one place?”
”And now you've found us,” said Celestine, a little tartly. She had never entirely warmed to Kilian Guyomard's jos.h.i.+ng manner. Yet because he and Jagu had been friends since their schooldays, she forced herself to put up with his banter.
”What brings me to this G.o.dforsaken country?” Kilian threw his wet coat down. ”Since you failed so spectacularly in your mission to persuade the monks of Kerjhenezh to part with their sacred treasure, I'm here to ensure that the Staff is safely returned to the Forteresse.”
Celestine opened her mouth to make a sharp retort but then thought better of it; she sensed that Kilian would have liked nothing better than to revel in her discomfort.