Chapter sixty-four

Lake Heimat to Amansk

 

‘It’s Balliwick’ said Gerard, ‘the powerful witch: I’m certain that it’s him’

‘He’s a powerful witch?’ said Otto, incredulously

‘Yes’ said Gerard, ‘I’ve seen him’

‘How?’ asked Otto, ‘how can you have?’

‘By sneaking around’ explained Gerard, ‘an activity that I am very good at, as you know already, Mr Kantor’

Victoria considered this. She was sure that Gerard was just as good at lying as he was at sneaking, so more proof was required.

‘What exactly did you see him doing?’ she asked

‘I saw him speaking magically to some female witch – he used to go to a deserted basement in the castle and chalk a pentagram on the floor. He would conjure up the image of a woman and then speak in a language that I did not comprehend – I think it was Rhylic. ‘He’d do that about once a week. Their conversation was very heated; it was a shame that I couldn’t understand it’

Victoria thought this sounded too outlandish to make up – in any case she knew that her sister had used a similar method to speak to her tutors when she had been doing her witch-training.

‘How did you find out about this?’ she asked.

‘I tend to notice other people wandering around at the dead of night’ said Gerard, ‘I like to know who my competitors are’

Otto still seemed unconvinced.

‘That doesn’t make sense’ he said, ‘why didn’t he just do the spell in a quiet room in his apartment?’

Gerard affected to hardly notice this question, as if it had come from a long way off and was a little hard to hear. He engaged with it only grudgingly.

‘If you had had any proper access to the Baron you’d know that he was in and out of Balliwick’s apartment all the time. It suited the Ethian to be available at all times, I suppose. Of course that meant that he couldn’t do any witch stuff in his own rooms…’

Victoria was satisfied with this explanation. She was pretty certain that Gerard knew what he was talking about: only an calculating liar could be so open.

‘Did you see him do anything else?’

Gerard screwed his face up in disgust.

‘Yes, I did – it was extremely unpleasant’ he said, obviously reluctant to say any more.

‘Please go on’ insisted Victoria

‘He killed a cat’

‘He did what?’ spluttered Otto, making a face.

‘There are a number of semi-feral cats that wander the castle grounds – maybe they are there as mousers, I’m not really sure. Anyway, there was one ginger and white cat, he was very furry, and very friendly – I’d often give him scraps – but Balliwick couldn’t stand him: he was always kicking him and pushing it away. Then one night when we were both prowling around, Balliwick found the cat and did something to it. He pointed his finger and said some foreign word and the cat just sort of withered away. Balliwick made some an odd rasping sound and then I retreated rapidly. I kept as far away as possible from him after that…’

Otto and Victoria looked at each other and neither of them could think of anything to say. Victoria thought again that this seemed too lurid and grotesque to be made up.

‘Does the Baron know that Balliwick is a witch?’ asked Victoria

‘No’ said Gerard, shaking his head, ‘I’m sure that he doesn’t. Balliwick seems to have gone out of his way to cultivate the urbane, somewhat disinterested, advisor role, but of course I know that that is all complete nonsense. He’s very clearly up to something’

Otto’s expression changed from disbelief to shock: he looked genuinely concerned and angry.

‘Why did you not tell Baron von Eisen these things? You seem to be saying that the crimson grandmaster has been duped by some horrible Rhylic witch’

Gerard laughed and looked across at Otto with a face filled with mock pity.

‘You are such fools, all of you knights. The world works on power and money, not on pledges and moral codes. As for me, I only give information when paid, and all I am interested in is easy cash and a long, very rich, retirement. I don’t tell if I’m not paid, whoever might be asking. And that reminds me…’

‘Of what?’ asked Otto impatiently, ‘of what does it remind you, sneak thief?’

‘You owe me forty elfrounds’  

***

 

Gerard was paid, they slept briefly and then they packed up and left before dawn. Otto drove his men on as fast as they could, hoping to reach Amansk by the evening of the next day.

The road hugged the lakeside for endless miles, during which the landscape was entirely uniform: scattered birch copses in a grassland matrix. During almost all of this time they saw no-one on the road, and they were grateful for this as they didn’t relish the idea of coming across a Crimson Flame supply caravan coming the other way.  It was only when twilight was falling that they finally saw an approaching group of carts led by a merchant’s coach.

Otto ordered his troops to stop and he climbed down out of his coach to investigate the newcomers. At the same time the tiny merchant’s convoy, faced with a small army, had stopped dead. Otto and the merchant met almost exactly halfway between the two coaches.

‘My Lord’ said the merchant, his eyes fixed on the mounted knights behind Otto,   ‘I was told that I might encounter you on the road’   

‘Who are you?’ asked Otto, peering at him closely.

‘I am Lucian Petroff, sire – I am a fish merchant from Amansk. I am on my way to deliver pickled herrings to Castle Uberwald’   

 Otto relaxed – this clearly wasn’t one of the Baron’s men.

‘Pickled herrings?’ said Otto, ‘they really are very good…’

It was Lucian’s turn to breathe more easily. This seemed just like an ordinary conversation.

‘Would you care to buy some for your troops, sire? They’re newly packed from Gorodnikov’

The lure of pickled herrings distracted Otto temporarily. The two men began to discuss bulk herring prices.

After several minutes of waiting, Victoria began to wonder what they could be talking about and who the merchant was. She wrapped herself in her big coat and peered out of the coach as surreptitiously as she could. She immediately recognised Lucian, who was a familiar figure in Amansk. She concluded that it was safe to go and join them.

‘Mr Petroff’ she said, as she approached, ‘how are you?’

Lucian peered through the dimming light at her. At first he had trouble placing her, but then he realised exactly who she was. He looked surprised, but also relieved.

‘Miss Jenkins’ he said, ‘I’m glad to see that you are safe and well’   

‘Thank you’ she said, ‘and your affairs?’

Lucian looked uncomfortably back and forwards from Victoria to Otto. Victoria suddenly realised what was going on.

‘Grandmaster’ she said softly, ‘I wonder if I could have a few minutes talking to Mr Petroff…’

Otto reluctantly retreated. Lucian looked a lot more comfortable. They huddled together to confer.

‘Are you still being held against your will, Miss Jenkins?’

‘No, Grandmaster Kantor helped me to escape’

‘So, he’s the grandmaster of that other Formish order is he?’

‘Yes, he’s helping me’

‘And Princess Lily?’

Victoria hesitated – she had no idea what to say. She didn’t feel inclined to tell this merchant that Lily had been freed and then she’d been lost again, but on the other hand once Lucian had returned to Amansk then he would tell the Praefectus that he’s seen her but not Lily. She realised that it would have been better to remain hidden in the coach.

‘She’s fine’ Victoria said vaguely, hoping that it was true. She rapidly changed the subject.

‘How are things in Amansk?’

It was Lucian’s turn to look wary and a little awkward.

‘It depends who you ask’ he said

‘What do you mean by that?’

‘Well, the city is controlled by von Eisen’s men, so that’s good for them, I suppose, but for everyone else, it’s not so good’

‘Are the Praefectus’s family safe?’

‘I think so – Arnon and his wife are still there, he’s some sort of nominal leader or adviser or something. Prince Toby is in Gorodnikov as far as I know…’

 ‘Well, I’m glad that they’re safe’

Lucian nodded.

‘Not really our concern though… I guess’ he said

‘Why do you say that?’

‘Not our city, is it… you’re from Eth… I’m from Gorodnikov’

Victoria was surprised that she wasn’t irritated by his attitude, but then she realised that he was being entirely rational. Not everyone could be a hero and merchants had to make a living. Why should he be concerned about petty southerner politics? And, similarly, why should she go in search of a silly wilful girl? She was neither a relative nor a citizen and she so no realistic prospect of being paid for a very long time. If she looked at it like that then it all seemed ridiculous. However, she couldn’t abandon Lily just because she was behaving foolishly – that had nothing to do with politics.

‘Sorry’ said Lucian, when she didn’t respond to his comment, ‘that must sound heartless…’

Victoria shook her head. This was an unhelpful conversation: what she needed was some more solid information.

‘Is there a route free to Ortia?’ she asked

Lucian appeared puzzled. He looked over at the Pale Flame knights again.

 ‘Do you mean not through Amansk?’

‘Yes, if possible – I’d like to avoid any problems in the city’

‘Well’ Lucian said, looking rather discomfited, ‘do you want to sneak this small army past Amansk?’

‘Possibly…’ murmured Victoria

‘There is a road that runs north-south from the western edge of Lake Berren: it’s the route I take to my depot. We use it to avoid too much attention being paid to the …umm… volume of goods leaving and entering Amansk. There are tax problems that I won’t go into at the moment, and are not really relevant… well, anyway…’

Victoria smiled and briefly rested her hand on his shoulder.

‘Don’t worry – your excise fiddles are the least of our concerns at the moment. I promise that your secrets, whatever they are, will remain safe with me’

Lucian relaxed visibly and his tone became suddenly much more professional.

‘The road isn’t very well marked, but if you cut due south from the western lake edge, you should hit it. Beyond the depot the pass is very clearly visible – you can just keep going south-east and you really can’t miss the road’

‘Thank you so much, Mr Petroff’ said Victoria, in relief, ‘you are very kind’

Lucian narrowed his eyes and put his hand to his head. Victoria was well used to this look: it was a look of concentration and calculation. It was the look that Gerard had every time he was trying to make some more money.

‘I will need some recompense for my services, however’ said Lucian. Victoria was slightly disappointed – she’d rather liked talking to this man and she thought that he had seemed reasonable, unengaged but not excessively avaricious. She sighed and gestured over to Otto and he began to stroll over to her. She wondered how many bags of money he actually had and when they might run out.

‘How much to do you want?’ she asked, her head drooping just a little.

Lucian looked undertain again.

‘No money, Miss Jenkins, I need a favour’

Victoria looked up directly at him – what could he possibly want? She frowned, shrugged noncommittally and waited for his request.

‘I have a fugitive elf hiding in my warehouse. Could you take him back home?’