Chapter seventy-five

Various Places (in and out of the Normal World)

 

Hardacre and the chickens fell into the bag.   The blue light inside was unbearably bright and he realised almost immediately what had happened.  The blue worms were now surrounding Lily, wrapping her up as if in bed of cobalt seaweed. More worms were squeezing out of the wall, struggling to find a place to connect to her spinal cord. Two things were clear – Lily was in mortal danger, and the bag was at the point of failing. All around him the hens continued to career and complain.

 Hardacre knelt in front of Lily and took her hand. She showed no sign of life. He squeezed the hand more tightly, and she flinched in her dark slumber. Hardacre knew that he had to get her out of there as fast as he could. He pulled her hand sharply to try to awaken her but she was completely gone, her face pale and skin cold. Then he attempted to pull her up, but she was too heavy and the worms did not want to let her go.

The bag was deteriorating fast – bits of the Outer Void and bits of the normal world were increasingly visible; the outer void below them and the real world above. Hardacre thrust his hands up through a hole above him into the cart. Below the worms were bursting up through massing blue clouds and into the bag. Everything was ragged and torn.

Lily began to drift down towards the clouds. With his free hand Hardacre reached out to her.

‘Hold on, Princess’ he whispered, and Lily, although apparently completely oblivious, reached out and held on to his arm. There was no pull of gravity from either world, just some insidious pressure exerted by the blue space and by the worms. His hand had grasped empty air in the normal world, but that was enough. If Lily had not been attached to him then it would have been any easy task to pull himself up into the cart, but as it was they would go nowhere unless the worms could be dispersed or if he could find something more solid to hold on to. His hand scrambled around on the floor of the cart, but there was nothing there but more straw and feathers. 

He knew that he would have to try some magic although he had no idea what effect it would have when cast between these two worlds. It seemed, though, that he had no choice. He breathed in, preparing to speak the trigger words.

A hand grasped his and pulled. The grasp wasn’t very firm but that didn’t matter – the pull of the real world was always going to be stronger.  There was a brief moment of balance and then there was enough of Hardacre’s arm thrust out into the normal world for him to be able to pull his head up, then a mixture of muscle and gravity did the rest.  Now only his hand was stuck inside the bag, with Lily clinging reflexively on to it.

He stood up and pulled with all his strength. Up came Lily out of the dissolving bag, and up came the worms as well, writhing in the new world.  Dragged along with them, too, came several bemused chickens.

The tall woman who had helped Hardacre out of the bag took one look at the worms and pointed a finger at them.   ‘Awel’ she whispered.  A breeze squeezed out from her finger and fanned out over Lily and her attached parasites. As the wind blew through the Outer Void creatures withered away, each particle of air destroying a small fabric of their being.  After a few seconds all that was left was Lily and a few scraps of the broken bag.  Hardacre turned to his rescuer.

‘Miss Franklyn!’ exclaimed Hardacre, in surprise and gratitude.

‘Mr Hardacre!’ said Celia, almost equally surprised. There was a short pause as she got her breath back.

‘You know I’ve never had a use for that spell before…’

Hardacre was too stunned to respond, so he just nodded politely. Then he remembered Lily. He knelt down before her and took her hand – she was frozen but her hand held his very softly.

‘What is going on?’ asked Celia, ‘are we being invaded from the Outer Void? Who is that?’

Hardacre looked up at her. She was still in her nightdress.

‘I think you’ll find that those are fairly minor questions, madam, when you hear the full story’

‘Really?’ said Celia, smiling despite the circumstances.

‘Yes’ said Hardacre, ‘Kratos was the one who was interfering with the Outer Void, and he’s here’

 

***

Lily was fast asleep and seemed quite content but neither of the witches dared to wake her: who knew what damage the blue worms had done. Celia studied her for a while but came to no conclusions. The light was poor under the tarpaulin, but she definitely didn’t recognise the teenage girl.

‘Who is she?’

Hardacre considered this question carefully.

‘I’m judging that if I tell you that you might decide that it would have been better not to know, madam’

‘What? Are you sure that you are quite well, Mr Hardacre?’

‘I’m sure that I have suffered in some way from my extra-dimensional experience, but I can’t think that that has made any difference to my response to your last question, madam, if that is what you mean…’

Celia nodded encouragingly, just about managing to supress her irritation. She tried to speak as calmly as possible.

‘Well, Mr Hardacre, you will have to tell me at some point, and it might just be useful for me to know sooner rather than later’

Hardacre gave her look that still implied that she’d be better off not knowing, but he knew that he’d have to yield. His voice, however, was very flat.

‘She’s Princess Lily of Amansk; Praefectus Arnon’s daughter’

‘What…?’ Celia began, but then realised that maybe Hardacre had been right – this did appear to be a complication too far. She decided, therefore, for the time being, to try another tack. It seemed that things had got altogether too odd.

‘But why was there an Outer Void rift here, in a chicken cart, of all places?’

‘The princess was hiding in my hyper-bag…’

Celia proceeded cautiously, not wanting to misunderstand anything or offend anyone.

‘Oh right – that was a rather foolish thing to do wasn’t it?’

 ‘Utterly, madam – and it wasn’t my idea at all.  It’s clear that something, perhaps whatever Kratos has been doing, has weakened the barriers between the worlds. The Outer Void creatures that lurk around the folded spaces are now being attracted to any thin folded membrane beyond which they can sense a mind, apparently…’

 Celia shuddered.  She thought immediately of Owen, struggling with a bulging rent in space-time; she hoped fervently that he was alright. Then she snapped back to the fearfulness of her own predicament.

‘So, you said that Enemy Kratos is near. Are you sure?’

‘Yes – he tried to kill me. Only the presence of Boo saved us: she absorbed the energy of a massive fire bolt ’

Celia smiled grimly.

‘I’ve always said that it was a healthy thing to have a pet’

Hardacre attempted an answering smile, but it was so thin as to be essentially invisible.

‘Of course, Madam’

Celia ignored this.

‘Is Kratos with this army, then?’ she asked

‘With the Crimson Flame Knights, yes. He is acting as an advisor to the grandmaster during his attack on Tlaxaca’

Celia frowned.

‘I thought that the CRS were allied with the Tlaxacans?’ she said, ‘So why would he do that?’

‘I have no idea, madam, but I suggest that we might be well advised to try to find out’

 ‘Well, yes, of course’ said Celia hesitantly, ‘but first I need to find Katy…’

Hardacre looked so surprised that the creases deepened visibly on his forehead. This was another worrying turn of events.

‘Dr Mannings?’ he said carefully, ‘did you think that she had blinked here?’

Celia nodded, rather reluctantly.

 ‘I was following her trace, but it seems like she didn’t!’

Hardacre’s face slipped from surprise to deep concern.

‘Oh dear’ he said, ‘I thought she was advised by everyone not to…’

‘She has kelemeia’ explained Celia, interrupting him, ‘she’s doesn’t really know what she’s doing…’

Hardacre paused for a second to try to make sense of everything that he had just heard.

‘So; to sum up, madam’ he said very slowly, ‘we are approaching Tlaxaca, we are among bloodthirsty knights, we face one deadly foe, we have a catatonic princess, and… we’re looking for a mad witch’

Celia nodded glumly. ‘Put like that it does seem a bit daunting,’ she said, ‘so I think we’d better work out some sort of plan’

Chapter seventy-six

In the High Mountains

 

Kathleen fell, feet first, down into the middle of the glacial lake. The cold of the water took her breath away and she dropped through the thin layer of ice and into the clear blue water without a struggle. Her mind was too confused to handle such a sudden shock and so it shut down.

Fortunately she had fallen from about ten feet above the water and so she had made a massive crash as she had broken the ice.  The sound had attracted a group of Orbiverdi, the green-eyes, who had been ice fishing at the side of the lake. They were shocked, but fortunately they had a strong swimmer among them, a young well-built male who was used to traversing the icy cold waters of the mountains. His arms were long and he could hold his breath for an age and so, in fairly quick time, he had scooped the tiny witch up and pulled her to the shore.

They wrapped her in some furs and then stood over her anxiously while they waited for the healer to hurry up from the village just below the lake. When he arrived he ordered them all to move aside and poured a light green liquid into her mouth. After a few seconds she spluttered and looked up at the long limbed folk who had rescued her.

‘Hello, strange creatures’ she said, in Ethian, between chatters of her teeth, ‘I’m looking for Mr Hardacre – is he here?’  

None of the villagers could understand this at all, so the healer frowned and started to talk to her, very slowly and clearly, in Visneorian. 

‘Who are you, stranger human? Did you fall from the sky?’

Kathleen shook her head and laughed through her coldness.

‘You’re not elves are you?’ she said accusingly, switching languages, but her tone was not unpleasant.

‘No’ explained the healer patiently, ‘but we are Imperial subjects’

Kathleen had heard all about the green eyed mountain people at the council meeting but in her present state, ill and frozen stiff, she could remember nothing about them at all. Beneath everything, however, she felt unbearably tired.

‘Are you sure?’ she said, ‘it seems a bit unlikely….’

They all murmured their assent; it was a strangely formal and very proud sound. But it was lost on poor Kathleen; the mixture of the elixir and the warm furs was dragging her down once again into healing sleep.

‘I need to find Mr Hardacre, as soon as possible’ she murmured and shut her eyes, ‘he must be close by, he must be’. That was the last thing she said for a long while.

 

 

***

They carried her to the village rather reverently. Many of them had heard of ‘Hardacre’, of course; he was the leader of the group who had defeated Whitecloak, their deadliest enemy. However, this far away from Ortia the stories, though very recent, were rather garbled.    

They took Kathleen to the wise woman of the village. They carried her very carefully on a hastily-constructed stretcher, making sure that she wasn’t unduly shaken up on the uneven path.  She, however, was too far gone into her deepest possible sleep to notice anything. The Orbiverdi laid her down in their seer’s tent.

The wise woman listened to their account of what had happened and came to an immediate conclusion – they would have to take her down into the foothills of the mountains and find their leader’s hideout, just above Monurbis. Euphorbia would know what to do.

They wrapped Kathleen’s body in softer and warmer furs. A better stretcher was located and four strong bearers found to take her down the spiralling path. Their progress was slow; it took two days to make the steep descent, particularly because they stopped frequently to attend to their patient, to moisten her lips and tuck her back in to her blankets. At no point did they bump her unduly and at no point did she utter any sound.

Eventually they found their way to Euphorbia’s hideout, hidden on a cliff face that looked straight down into the pass. There was one narrow way into it, completely unsuitable for carrying across an unconscious person. However, using ropes and ingenuity they hoisted Kathleen across the slender path and into the safety of the cavern.

 

***

Euphorbia had no idea what to do with her. She had a bed made up for her in a secluded part of her cave complex. This was a massive hidden system of limestone caverns that had been used in times of danger by the Orbiverdi ever since they had escaped from the Cloaks’ clutches. She had her healers ensure that she was not in mortal danger, and then she went in search of Bellis, the exiled proconsul of Monurbis.

Ten minutes later they were stood over Kathleen’s slumbering body, both perplexed and bewildered.

‘Do you know who she is, my lady?’ asked Bellis, studying the human’s face very carefully.

‘No’ said Euphorbia, shaking her head, ‘but I suppose that she must be a witch’

‘A colleague of Mr Hardacre’s, I assume…’ suggested Bellis, wondering whether a female witch might look somehow different from other women.

‘… and so probably on some important mission…’ continued Euphorbia

‘Yes, most probably…’ agreed Bellis

Euphorbia stared down at Kathleen kindly, but with a steely determination on her face. Bellis couldn’t tell what Euphorbia might think of her.  

‘We have our orders’ she said, ‘we’re to keep out of the way’

Bellis looked pained.  This was an interpretation of Marthian’s instructions that he did not accept, but which it was hard to contradict.

‘For our own safety’ he said, ‘it wasn’t a judgement on our value’

‘Was it not?’ murmured Euphorbia, ‘that’s how it seemed to me’

The proconsul was concerned for his co-ruler. She had been stung by Marthian’s apparent rejection and she now seemed to Bellis to be in a sort of spiritual sulk. He tried once more to raise her morale.

‘But we acted in Monurbis, and the result was a great success’ he pointed out.

‘That is our territory – we needed no permission to act. And what is Monurbis compared to Ortia? The hand of Quiena is all over the white city…’

‘We will return to both cities, my lady, I am sure’

‘When we receive our summons, perhaps…’

 Bellis folded his arms and frowned, but this was a conversation that they had many times, and there was nothing much else left to say.

‘Nonetheless’ he insisted, ‘we need to do something about this woman’

‘I agree’ said Euphorbia, ‘we will heal her and she can remain here until the war is over’

Bellis sighed and coughed. He suddenly felt very old. How sad it was to have got to this point – when the best lacked all conviction. Whatever reason this witch had to find Hardacre, it must be important and it almost certainly would be for the commonweal.  

‘I will take her’ he said, ‘to find Envoy Hardacre’

 Euphorbia’s green eyes flashed. She had not been expecting this at all.

‘You cannot mean that, proconsul’ she said, her voice much louder than she had intended, ‘that would be extraordinarily dangerous…’

Her voice trailed off.

‘…for someone of my age’ he said, ‘is that what you were meaning to say’

Euphorbia’s face changed. Her eyes now glowed with a deeper, less vivid green. She reached out to touch his shoulder.

‘It would be dangerous for anyone, my lord – the chances are high that Mr Hardacre is fighting against the Crimson Flame knights in some way or another as we speak’

Bellis looked at her. His face was stern. He nodded and then turned to leave.

‘And that is why I must go, if you will not change your mind. I am the only one who you cannot order to stay’

The proconsul left before Euphorbia had a chance to respond. She waited for a second, checking Kathleen’s breathing and that she was warm and not distressed. Then she walked out of the cave, full of even more doubts and fears than before. As she left the chamber she snuffed out the lantern on the wall. Darkness engulfed the space.  The only light was from a few glow worms clinging to the walls.

Kathleen slept deeply, but by now restless thoughts were forming inside her.  Her mind was healing fast and part of her brain was now desperate to awake, to be away and to find Laurence. She had a spell burning a hole in her dreams and she needed to teach it to someone.

Chapter seventy-seven

Ortia

 

Victoria was furious and there was a risk that she was about to cause a diplomatic incident. She had insisted that she should be present when Otto had had his audience with the Proconsul, and no-one had objected to that, particularly as she had agreed to speak only when directly addressed.  Everything had gone well to start with, Otto and Marthian had exchanged Imperial greetings, and they had discussed the general military position in some depth.  Victoria’s mind had wandered a little, as she was still really only interested in finding out where Lily was, and she had been looking out of the sliding glass doors into the gardens, where a rather gangly gardener was doing some weeding – it really was very beautiful. She only snapped back to attention when she heard a strange note in the Proconsul’s voice.  Otto had just mentioned his orders from the Emperor and Marthian had stumbled over her response.

‘May I ask… umm… what your orders said about Ortia, grandmaster?’

Otto looked surprised. Victoria wondered why.  Was it rude to ask?

‘That I should obey the proconsul and give him the fullest support that I can’ said Otto.

Marthian started slightly and then tried to cover it up by picking some papers up from her desk. Victoria was sure that Otto hadn’t noticed this response, but she had. Otto had other things on his mind, anyway – he hurried to correct himself.   

‘or ‘her’ of course, in this case’ he said

Marthian smiled sourly.

‘Of course…’

There was a brief awkward silence, the reason for which Victoria couldn’t really fathom.

‘Do you know where the Emperor is now?’ asked Marthian

Otto wiped a hand across his brow and looked, if anything, even more uncomfortable.

‘I’m afraid I do not, my lady; I have been given my particular instructions, but no more information since he handed them to me in Visnea six months ago’

‘And those instructions are what, general?’

Otto paused, surprised.

 ‘Why did you refer to me as a ‘general’, my lady?’

Marthian smiled again, equally tartly. She put the papers back down on the table.

‘My apologies - have I overestimated you rank?’

Otto squirmed in his uniform. It wasn’t a physical squirming, but squirming it was nonetheless.

‘No, no’ he said hurriedly, ‘it’s just that I think the correct term is “grandmaster”’

Marthian’s brown eyes flashed at him.

‘Ah, so is it now… Do you mean like your colleague Baron von Eisen?’      

Otto blinked and swallowed visibly. He wasn’t used to this treatment at all.

‘He has a much bigger army and much bigger ideas’ pointed out the proconsul, ‘I suggest that you remain content with the lowly title of general in the Imperial army, Mr Kantor. We all have to be realistic about our positions’

Otto was clearly wondering how he should respond to this. He looked over to Victoria, hoping for moral support, but she was transfixed by something she had seen in the garden

‘You little bugger!’ she shouted, in Ethian, and ran over to the glass doors. She wrenched them open and crashed her way through them. Erik dropped his trowel and began to retreat rapidly back into a shrubbery. Victoria still didn’t have a sword, but really she didn’t need one to inflict mortal damage on this prince.

‘What the hell have you done with her?’ she bellowed.

Erik held his hands up against his face, as if he were warding off an army of hornets. He was too scared to speak. Victoria grabbed his hand and pulled him towards herself.

‘Unhand him!’ commanded Marthian, as she hurried through into the garden. Her voice was very firm and it broke the spell. Victoria realised, with a sickening thud that she had gone far too far. She dropped Erik’s hand. He rubbed where she had grabbed him rather theatrically.

‘What by the Lady is happening here?’ asked Marthian in Visneorian, turning to Otto, who was just ahead of her. ‘Explain yourselves!’ she demanded.

Otto was almost completely at a loss, but he had a go.

‘We think that this boy has kidnapped Princess Lily…’ he said, ‘…and Victoria, I mean Miss Jenkins… is trying to find what happened to her’. 

After this the three humans started to talk all at once. The noise was unbearable.

‘Stop, fractious creatures…’ commanded Marthian loudly, lifting her hand to quieten them all,

‘In fact’ she said, quite calmly, after a brief pause, ‘this may come as a surprise to you all, but… I know exactly what has happened’

All the barbarians turned to look at her. For the first time in several days she laughed.

‘And I’ll be happy to explain…’  

 

***

It was all sorted out fairly rapidly. It became apparent that Erik had stowed away with Lily in Hardacre’s bag, that they had ended up in Ortia, that Boo had escaped and that Hardacre and Lily had teleported after her. It was all a mess, but it all made sense.  However, no-one had any clue where Hardacre and Lily had gone, so they had hit a dead end.

Once all of this had been established Marthian shook her head wearily and called for Campanula, who gently ushered Erik and Victoria out of the room. Marthian had surprised herself by keeping calm through the whole farrago, but inside she felt furious – things were bad enough without all of this.

Marthian pounced as soon as the door was closed.

‘General – this is an inexcusable mess that you seem to have been unable to avoid, and, what’s even more irritating, you’ve brought it here at about the worst time possible…’

Otto started to respond to this barrage, but Marthian cut him short.

‘I haven’t finished…’ she barked, ‘you can talk when I’ve finished, but not before…’

Otto slumped. After eighteen years without women he now appeared to have a surfeit of powerful, rude ones. But then he noticed something very odd – the Proconsul has tears in her eyes. Now he was at even more of a loss; why on earth was she weeping?

‘You and that woman have brought two minor royals into Ortia during a period of war: one of them is a half-wit son of a barbarous king and the other is the daughter of the only true ally that Ortia has…and now we’ve lost her. Are you completely incompetent?’

 Otto listened, wincing under the assault. He waited for more of the same.

Marthian paused, and turned to pick up a handkerchief. She tried, as surreptitiously as possible, to blow her nose.  She turned back to face him.

‘Well?’

Otto looked confused. He looked down at her handkerchief, it seemed very small – perhaps he should offer her another, larger one?

‘Have you finished, proconsul?’ he asked hesitantly.

‘Of course I’ve finished – that’s why I asked you a question…’

‘I thought it was rhetorical’ said Otto, weakly.

Marthian glared at him, goading him into speaking.

‘I take full responsibility for everything that has happened. For various reasons I let things get out of hand. I was complicit in rescuing Mr Hardacre, Miss Jenkins, Princess Lily and Prince Erik from the Crimson Flame Knights in Castle Uberwald…’

Marthian’s look softened, despite herself.

‘Well, come on, now’ she said, ‘I’m not planning to blame you for that - it can only have been a good thing. Mr Hardacre is a great friend of Ortia’s’  

Otto carried on grimly.

‘But I was not fully aware of Princess Lily’s character, or her ingenuity. From what I’ve heard now, it seems to have all been the her idea’

Marthian nodded, thinking of the gauche boy who loved her garden so much.

‘I can well believe that…‘she murmured. Her anger was dying and as it waned a cold sorrow took its place. She wondered if he’d noticed that she’d said, ‘Ortia’s friend’, rather than ‘the Empire’s friend’ when referring to Hardacre. Fortunately he didn’t seem to have.

‘So, do you have any idea where Mr Hardacre and the Princess are now, general?’

 ‘Miss Jenkins thinks that whoever Hardacre is tracking is with the Crimson Flame army and that if we follow them we will might just find him… and Lily, of course’

‘Who exactly is Miss Jenkins? She seems to be having a very large influence on your plans’

Otto suddenly remembered what he had told Gaius. What should he do now? Gaius had almost certainly been debriefed by now, so Marthian would soon know about his original lie. And it was abundantly clear that the Proconsul had a low opinion of him already, and that would not be improved by her finding out that his entire military strategy was being shaped by an Ethian governess. It looked like the lie would have to grow, as big lies always do.

‘Miss Jenkins is an Ethian intelligence officer’ he whispered.

‘What?’ said Marthian, straining not only to hear what he’d just said but also to believe it.

In a flash Otto realised that what worked reasonably well as a casual lie to a lieutenant, was a big mistake to an emotionally unstable Proconsul. He was now totally out of his depth.

‘She works for the High Lord and for me…’ he said, a little louder, but no less feebly.

‘Why?’ asked Marthian, her eyes widening and her lips thinning, ‘what’s any of this to Eth?’ 

Otto tried to make it look like he was pondering this important geopolitical question carefully, but in fact he was asking himself the same question.  

‘It’s the Crimson Flame knights…’ he said, answering for both of them.

Marthian looked puzzled, as befits someone who is listening to the sound of something being made up on the spot.

‘That’s why the Ethians are interested… is that what you mean? Your Visneorian is very good, but I’m afraid your response was a bit unclear’

‘Oh, right’ said Otto, happy to have his wild stab mistaken for poor idiom, ‘I meant to say that the Ethian government is very concerned about the Crimson Flame knights, and so, knowing that, they sent Miss Jenkins undercover, working as Princess Lily’s governess’

Marthian sighed. She looked tired.

‘This seems to get more complicated by the second’

Otto nodded but could think of nothing else very useful to say that wouldn’t complicate things further.

‘So, what is your plan now?’ asked Marthian

‘We could make our way to Monurbis, I suppose, although the Baron is unlikely to greet us with open arms. He’ll soon find out that we haven’t really been working towards the same goals. I was thinking, instead, that we might stay here for a while and help in the defence of Ortia’

Marthian shook her head. Her anger, and her tears, had now gone completely. She just appeared exhausted and a little sad. Otto could not even begin to understand what was wrong with her – were all female elves like this?

‘Well, much as we could do with the help, I think that both the Emperor and the High Lord would want you to go and find out what the Crimson Flame knights are doing – and try to help Mr Hardacre and rescue Princess Lily – and they would want that more than they would require you to help us. Anyway, we’re not under any direct threat – as you can see’

‘Is that your order then, ma’am?’ he asked

‘Yes, it is’ said Marthian firmly, ‘the Emperor is on his way, and now that I find that the High Lord has intervened it makes me think that the stakes very high. We must always consider the broader need’

Otto felt entirely deflated. He had hoped to be able to stop at Ortia because he had eagerly anticipated that the proconsul would need his army.  Now it seemed that he was caught up in something that somehow he had partially created himself. The sense of inadequacy that he had fought off for twenty years came flooding back – all the training, the meditation and the ethical exercise seemed to have been for nothing.  His voice dwindled almost to silence.

‘But my force is small, and I sense that you have no confidence in me’

Marthian peered closely at him, judging, but not unkind. She shrugged. 

‘No I don’t’ she said, ‘but you should go anyway – you’re the only group that can communicate, however indirectly or inefficiently, between the Crimson Flame knights and the Emperor. Looking at you I doubt that you will make any difference, but the one thing that I suspect you can do well is your duty…’

Otto breathed in deeply. This was a total mess but at least he knew what was required – he had to obey the legal representative of the Emperor.

‘I will do as you ask. ma’am’

‘I want you to do everything you can to stop the Baron from acting precipitately. I want you to try to stop him moving against the Tlaxacans until the Emperor arrives. Get him to stay where he is now and wait.’

‘Yes, ma’am’

‘And I’ll send instructions that you should make contact with Bellis, the proconsul of Monurbis – a messenger will find you on the road. You will need to take counsel with him’

Otto waited for further instructions. Marthian frowned.

‘Now, general, I want you to do it now. The war won’t wait for you to turn up…’

She dismissed him.

Otto stumbled out of the room in miserable dejection. He might have felt a little better, however, if he’d known that they had both been lying. Not once in their conversation did Marthian bother to mention that she would soon be removed from her post. One way or another, both of them felt that they were now living on borrowed time.