Page 37 of Angels

excitement. That was not one of my best days, he thought. He had well and truly lost his composure and he was not proud of it. Martell would relish wielding the weapon that he had been handed in that moment, and it was only a matter of time before the man's perception of his weakness was used against him.

  Bang! Bang! Bang!

  Winterburne jumped, as he was snapped back to the present. He pushed on the arms of the chair as he got up. Of course, he remembered now, there was someone at the door.

  'Alright!' he called, 'I'm coming! Keep your hair on!'

  He had no idea of the time but outside the window it was still dark. He reached out and turned the key in the lock, opening the door which shut out the world. Whoever it was had their back turned to him, and he had a feeling of discomfort as he looked at the shape in the doorway.

  'Who is it?' Winterburne asked, and shot a glance up and down the street. There was no one else in view and any signs of approaching morning seemed to be far away. The figure turned, and lifted the hood from his face.

  'Your Highness!' Winterburne said.

  'Well,' Frederick replied, 'are you going to invite me in, or are you expecting me to stand out here all night?'

  Winterburne held open the door as the Emperor swept into the room. He closed the door and walked over to the side-table, picking up the candle. On the mantle were three more of it's brothers and he held the flame against their wicks, each one in turn bursting into light and adding to the glow in the room.

  Frederick took a place to the side of the hearth and pulled back his cloak to allow the warmth to reach him.

  'Is there something wrong?' Winterburne placed the candle back on it's tray and lifted his eyes to look at the Emperor. 'I didn't even know that you knew where I lived.'

  'I know more than you realise,' Frederick said, glancing around the room.

  'That is something that I can quite believe, Sire.'

  'I needed to speak with you, Winterburne.' Frederick removed his gloves and threw them onto the table. 'Alone.'

  'At this time at night?'

  'Now is as good a time as any.' Frederick unbuttoned his cloak, lifting it from his shoulders and throwing it onto the back of the chair. He looked around him at the mess that lay all about. 'You need a woman's touch in here,' he said.

  Winterburne smiled. 'I don't have the time for a family, Sire, and I'm equally sure that they would not have any time for me.'

  'Hmm,' Frederick replied.

  Deep shadow fell across loose piles of clothing strewn over the floor, papers were stacked in the corner of the room, and several piles of leather boots lay near the front door. An unmade bed was pushed against one wall and an open doorway, on the far side of the room, loomed black and ominous.

  'What's through there?' Frederick asked.

  'A kitchen.'

  'A kitchen too?' Frederick glanced back at Winterburne. 'I am impressed. I see that you have all the modern conveniences. I’m guessing that I shouldn't go in there, though,' he said, with a smile on his face.

  'Your Highness,' Winterburne said, 'I would be very surprised if you had really come here just to criticize my living arrangements.' He sat himself on the edge of the bed.' To be honest, though, I don't actually spend that much time here.'

  'Of course not,' Frederick sat himself in the chair by the fire. 'More important fish to boil, I should think.'

  Winterburne was eager to learn the reason for the visit, and could wait no longer. 'With the greatest respect, Sire,' he said, 'what is it that you want?'

  Frederick frowned at Winterburne, and then turned away, staring into the embers of the fire for what felt like a long moment, seeming to use the time to collect his thoughts. 'When you gave your account at the Palace the other day,' he said, 'I fear you were much closer to the truth than you would care to think.'

  'In what way?'

  'I too believe that Agatha heard something that cost her life.' Frederick shifted in the chair as he tried to make himself more comfortable. 'I also have proof that someone close to the Palace has been passing information to the Commonwealth.' The fire crackled and sparked as Frederick continued to stare into it.

  'What proof, Sire?'

  'My men intercepted a message.' Frederick breathed in deeply. 'A message on its way to someone unknown. Someone over the border, in the Commonwealth.'

  'What did the message say, Sire?'

  'It contained details of the location of an attack. An attack across the border...in my name.' He watched a coal topple off the pile and drop into the red glow in the hearth. 'I have not issued such an order.'

  'But if the Queen believes that you did—'

  'Then it would trigger war.' Frederick looked over at Winterburne, nodding. 'I am sending a rider to plead with the Queen to show patience. I can only hope that she will listen. At least, that is, until such time as we are able to discover the traitor.'

  'Do you believe that she will?'

  'I don't know,' Frederick said. 'She was not in the best of moods when our meeting ended.'

  'And we are no closer to knowing who the traitor is?'

  Frederick shook his head. 'There was one other piece of news that came with it, though.'

  'News of what, Sire?'

  Frederick rose from the chair and walked over to the hearth, leaning on the mantel. 'Apparently,' he said, 'there is to be an attempt on my life during the Emperor's Feast Ball. My bodyguards are less close during this time, and it would be an ideal opportunity for an assassination attempt.'

  'Then you must cancel the Ball, Your Highness!' Winterburne stood and walked over to the fire to join the Emperor. 'The whole event is a security headache, anyway. I would not be able to guarantee either your own safety, or that of the Empress.'

  'I realise that,' Frederick replied, 'but it must go ahead. We cannot allow this cuckoo-in-the-nest to succeed in whatever plans are afoot. This is the only way to ensure that we catch the spy.'

  Winterburne's mind wandered, and he paced around the room.

  'You have some thoughts?' Frederick asked, after a moment.

  Winterburne nodded. 'I do, Sire,' he said. 'There may be a way to flush out the traitor.'

  'Go on.'

  'But to do it, I need two requests granted.'

  'And they are?'

  'The first, is to invite me to the Feast Ball.'

  'That can be arranged,' Frederick replied. 'And the second?'

  Winterburne raised his eyes to look at the Emperor. He was not sure how he would react to this request, but he had to ask. 'I want to search the Assassin's Guild.' He waited as he tried to read Frederick's expression, but it was unmoving, and gave no indication of his feelings. 'I am at an impasse with the Arch Chancellor, but I am of the opinion that there may be something worth finding in there.'

  'Such as?'

  'The man we pulled out the docks the other day was an assassin. I think he was killed by a professional.'

  'What makes you say that?'

  'Assassins are highly skilled, Sire, trained to a high level of martial combat. Your usual footpad provides little challenge for them, even when they are heavily armed and the assassin only lightly. In my opinion,' Winterburne looked over at the Emperor, 'the best person to kill an assassin is probably another assassin.'

  'I see your point.' Frederick looked thoughtful. 'But why do you need to get inside the guild?'

  'I have no more than a feeling, based on finding the medallion, but perhaps we can find a connection, something that will help us to explain the reason as to why Agatha died.'

  Frederick looked down into the fire, drumming his fingers on the mantel shelf for a few seconds. 'They take their Imperial immunity from prosecution extremely seriously in the guilds, Captain. You know you could be making yourself some very dangerous enemies?'

  'Yes, Your Highness, I am aware of that, but the law must have no boundaries. Nothing should prevent discovery of the truth.'

  'Well said, Captain,' Frederick replied, smirking. 'Spoken like a true politician.
' He looked directly at Winterburne. 'Very well,' he said, 'you shall have your permission. I will arrange it. I only wish that I could have been there to see Lytton's face when you present it to him.'

  Winterburne smiled back.

  'Have you learned any more?' Frederick asked.

  'Not specifically, Sire. Although you might possibly be interested to know that in certain people's minds Your Highness is a prime suspect?'

  'Am I?' Frederick smiled. 'How exciting.'

  'Along with Lord Allington and that Appleby fellow.'

  'Lord Allington, eh?' Frederick said. 'Now that is an interesting thought. It is certainly true that he is most unhappy with my handling of this crisis, but I cannot believe that he would....' He waved his hand in Winterburne's direction. 'I will leave that part of the investigation to you, and I will trust that certain people may be scratched from the list of suspects as necessary.'

  'In due course, I'm sure, Sire.'

  'Naturally,' Frederick replied. He still held the smirk on his face. 'You know,' he continued, 'you have never been what I might call a typical Lord of the Empire.'

  Winterburne chuckled. 'I don't suppose that I consider myself to be a typical anything, Your Highness.'

  'You seem to me to be somewhat of a cross-breed.'

  'A cross-breed?' Winterburne was not sure that he liked that description, and from any other man he would have taken exception.

  'Yes.' Frederick said, 'you appear to be a mix of two quite different ways of life. Sometimes, I have problems deciding which of the two I am watching. On one hand, take a look around this room, it is not what I would call the typical dwelling of a Lord. And yet, in your dealings with those around you there is evidence of a confidence that perhaps only a Lord would display. I find that contrast most intriguing.'

  Winterburne now understood the Emperor's meaning. 'Then I guess,' he said, 'I am just that, Your Highness, a cross-breed.'

  Frederick looked up at Winterburne and walked over to the chair, where he picked up his cloak and threw it around his shoulders. 'I heard about the incident in West Street this morning.'

  'Incident, Sire?'

  Frederick fastened the button at his throat. 'You let the sailor go back to his ship, I see. Quite the proper thing to do, of course.'

  Winterburne could feel the blood rising in his cheeks as he blushed, but hoped that the darkness would hide it.

  Frederick laughed. 'Oh, Captain, you do amuse me. Did you seriously think that I would not find out? The pair of you are as bad as one another. Both of you are no better than two children that are constantly bickering.' He reached down to the table and picked up his leather gloves. 'But, you are both useful to me, of course. Each in your own way.'

  Winterburne saw a look in the Emperor's eyes that he had not seen before, and he thought that it was altogether an unsettling one. To him it seemed to be a look of amusement mixed with hardened steel.

  'Together, you make a perfect couple.' Frederick pulled on his gloves. 'Martell has the might, and you have the subtlety.' He adjusted the fingers of both gloves until they sat comfortably on his hands. 'And as long as you both continue to prove your usefulness to me then I am happy for events to play out as they will. I suppose they are somewhat entertaining, in their own way.'

  Frederick raised his hood to cover his head, as he moved towards the door, pulling his cloak around him tightly. 'Good night, Captain,' he said, as he reached for the handle, 'there is no need to see me out.'

  24

  The Fourteenth Day of Midspring,

  Imperial Year 2332

  The doors to the Palace had been thrown open wide so that Courtenay could look out over Imperial Square as he waited, watching the administrators scuttling between the Palace outbuildings, running the messages and errands that kept the wheels of the Empire oiled. He turned as the sound of footsteps approached from the hall behind him.

  'My Lord,' de Malyns said, as he held out a wad of letters that had been bound in a black ribbon. 'Here are more.'

  'Thank you,' Courtenay replied, as he took the bundle. The Seal of
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