Siege
operations about Randstadt had reached the third parallel and the
batteries had been positioned amid blasts of musketry from the
defenses. Mary Amadeus worked as hard as any to site the guns, and
she felt pride in the fact they had become operational again within
an hour.
The
summons to General Rauppen-Schlepper’s pavilion reached her as she
came off the line. Repeated
salvos from the artillery had rendered her somewhat deaf, and the
aide had to repeat himself twice before she understood. She made her
way to the pavilion, sited in the headquarters area a safe distance
beyond cannon range. Sweeping the tricorn from her head, she checked
her hair still stayed neatly in its ponytail then nodded to the aide.
He opened the tent fly and she followed him inside.
The
General sat at his desk reading a dispatch. Mary saluted as he looked
up. “Lieutenant Amadeus reporting, sir.”
“Good
afternoon, Lieutenant.” Rauppen-Schlepper’s time-worn features
remained set in a neutral expression, and she wondered why he didn’t
greet her with his normal affability. He reached for his pipe and
made a show of inspecting it, knocking out the dottle and refilling
it with his favorite blend from a tooled leather pouch. The aide
stepped forward with a taper. Rauppen-Schlepper took it and lit the
pipe. He nodded to the aide. “Leave us, Wilhelm, but stay within
call.” The aide saluted and departed, leaving Mary and the General
alone.
“Is
something wrong, sir?” she asked.
“Yes,
Lieutenant, I’m afraid there is.” He opened a drawer and
extracted two packets of papers, tied with a blue ribbon. He dropped
one on the desk in front of her. “Do you recognize the writing?”
She
stooped to examine them and blinked. “It looks like my hand, sir.”
“It
looks like yours?”
“Yes,
but what..?” She sought for words. “I’ve not written to anyone
to this extent. I can’t afford the stationary on my salary. To whom
are they addressed?”
“Young
Philip, heir to the throne.” He dropped the second packet before
her. “These are his replies.”
Mary
shook her head. “I don’t know anything about these. Philip and I
have never exchanged letters beyond official reports to do with the
battery.”
Rauppen-Schlepper
pinched the bridge of his nose. He looked weary. “They came into my
possession through some anonymous agency. That in itself is bad
enough but the content...” He tapped the letters with a stubby
finger. “The contents, my dear lieutenant, are explosive!”
“May
I read them, sir?”
“Please
do.”
Mary
picked up the packet, untied the ribbon and read the first letter.
Her heart began to pound and her face burned with embarrassment.
“They... they’re nothing I would’ve penned, sir!”
“I
should hope not!”
“This...
this is explicit!” She gestured helplessly to the letters. “I
don’t know anything like a tiny fraction of the things herein
described.”
Rauppen-Schlepper’s
face grew grim. “It gets worse, Lieutenant. The last two letters
speak of the possibility of elopement.”
“Elopement!”
“Yes.”
His bushy eyebrows came together and he stared at her. “You know
full well Professor Knappenburger’s correspondence states our law
forbids Morganatic marriages to the future head of state. Such
correspondence as lies before you is treason. Graf Philip will not be
punished beyond the family’s censure, but for a commoner such as
you... The sentence, should you be found guilty, is death.”
2 comments:
There is a very nasty villain to be ferreted out somewhere! Sister Mary might have to blow him up!
Nasty. Very nasty. And when things are very nasty the hand of the vile Stagonians is certainly expected.
-- Jeff
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