The now-quiet town of Lehmangraz.
“You’re the second invalid I’ve
had to tend this month.” Ursula poured two glasses of white wine
and handed one to Horatio.
He grinned and shifted his arm in the
fresh sling she’d tied. “Who was the other lucky fellow?”
She sipped and eyed him. “Who says it
was a man?”
“Oh, just a guess.”
“Well, it’s a lucky one. It was
Konrad. He’s on the mend.”
“I’m glad. Nice fellow.”
Ursula snuggled up alongside him on the
bed. From here she had a good view out the bay window. As commander
of the gunboat flotilla Horatio had a choice room overlooking the
naval yard and the river beyond. Parties of sailors, marines and yard
workers moved here and there, clearing up the worst damage suffered
in the raid. A miasma of wet burnt wood hung over all. She noticed
the marines seemed to move with almost manic energy, as if eager to
make up in some way for their deficiency in the recent fighting.
Horatio must have guessed her
thoughts. “To be fair they couldn’t help it, my love. They were
pressed into action half-trained and the enemy took them by surprise
to boot. I think they’ll shape up given time and patience.”
“They should have enough of both.
The army of Dunkeldorf-Pfühl took a beating, and Randstadt is under
siege. I can’t see an occasion arising where the marines will be
needed before the end of the war.”
“I wouldn’t speak too soon,
dearest. The light infantry raid caught us all on the hop.”
Ursula set her glass aside and twisted
around to press closer against his side. She gazed into his eyes and
stroked his cheek. “But their mission ultimately failed – thanks
to you.”
He gave a soft chuckle. “Oh, I’m
quite the hero.” Draining his glass he put it on the bedside table
and took her in his arms. “I missed you!”
“And I you.” They kissed, and she
stroked his wounded arm. “Will you need to wear this for much
longer?”
“Only a week, according to our
surgeon. The rascal also wanted to bleed me, but I told him I’d
already shed enough blood for the cause.”
She lowered her voice to a sultry tone.
“It won’t... hinder you at all?”
His smile widened to a grin. “Not in
the least...”
Matters had just become interesting
when the sound of pounding feet on the staircase interrupted their
idyll. Moments later somebody knocked on the door with a rapid
tattoo. “Urgent dispatch from General Rauppen-Schlepper, sir!”
“Can’t it wait?” Horatio called
peevishly.
“The courier needs a reply, sir.”
The man sounded contrite. Ursula sensed he knew he intruded upon his
commander at a delicate moment.
Horatio groaned. “Sorry, my love.
I’ll have to take this.”
Ursula dived under the bedclothes.
“Schieße! What timing!”
Horatio rolled off the bed, donned his
dressing gown and answered the summons. He glanced at the message the
man handed him. “I’ll be down directly.”
“Sir!” Footsteps clumped away.
Horatio closed the door and returned to the bed. “It’s from the
general, all right. It seems one Lieutenant Mary Amadeus has come up
with a scheme to shorten the siege of Randstadt and we’re required
to render assistance.”
“Mary A!” Ursula sat up and took
the message from him. She scanned it. “Old Rauppen-Schlepper
doesn’t say what scheme she has in mind of course, but knowing her
it’ll be a corker! Ah..!” She read the remainder of the script.
“He wants you to lose not a moment in setting out.”
“Such is the life of a naval
officer.” He eyed her, his expression one of mixed lust and
frustration. Eventually he groaned. “The General summons, and so I
must obey. When we set sail, will you come with me?”
“Of course!” She pulled his head
down and kissed him soundly. “From what I saw of her the Styx II
has a nicely-appointed cabin. Once we’re under weigh, we can resume
where we left off...”
* * * *
Paul
Ehrgeiziger entered the inn, located on a busy road not far from the
border with Hetzenberg. It was an establishment he’d frequented
before on clandestine missions, and the innkeeper knew him. The woman
nodded as Paul ordered an ale. She served him and leaned close to
whisper as she slid his change across the damp surface of the bar
counter. “The gentleman awaits you in the usual room, sir.”
Paul
thanked her and made his way at a casual pace through to the rear of
the near-empty saloon and up the stairs. They opened onto a passage
off which were several guest rooms. Paul knocked on the third door
and entered without waiting for an invitation. The man sitting by the
window stood and bowed as Paul closed and bolted the door. “It’s
good to see you, Paul. After what happened earlier this year, I
feared all was up with you. Your message came as a great relief.”
Paul
returned the bow. “It’s good to see you too, Artur. You look
well.”
“As
well as can be expected.” Artur sat. A portly fellow, the warmth of
the day brought perspiration to his lofty brow, and he mopped it with
a large lace handkerchief.
“Thank
you for responding to my note. Others might not have welcomed my
approach, given the circumstances of my... ah, departure from the
Margrave’s service.”
“Oh,
my dear fellow, to your ear alone can I sympathize! Our new lord and
master – and possible patricide – is a sad burden for our poor
state to bear. He has us running ragged in an attempt to find ways of
winning this war. The army is licking its wounds and is unable to
raise the siege of Randstadt. The Margrave won’t be told to cut his
losses.” Artur grimaced. “The near-success of the raid on
Lehmangraz filled him with new hope, more’s the pity.”
“I
see.” Paul doffed his hat and sat down. “He’s not beyond
resorting to skulduggery...”
Artur
pursed his lips and frowned. “He’s not – but I have the feeling
you refer to a particular incidence of skulduggery.”
Paul
put on a bland smile. “You know me too well, old fellow.” He
leaned closer. “It has been brought to my attention that someone is
trying to stir dissent in the upper reaches of the Hetzenberg court.”
Artur
nodded. A knowing glint appeared in his eye. “Ah, that. To be fair,
that particular piece of business originated with the Dowager. She
hired Bartolomeo Gundaker.”
Paul
leaned back in his chair. “You surprise me!”
Artur
chuckled. “Why so? You know the old woman. She’s as devious as a
boatload of monkeys!”
“She
has her own agenda, to be sure,” Paul murmured, thinking over his
past experience with the Dowager. He produced the letter given him by
Ursula. “Pray examine this.”
Artur
donned a pair of pince-nez, took the letter and scanned it. After a
few moments he looked up. “It’s plain Professor Knappenburger’s
letter dashes any hope of this young woman marrying into the
nobility.”
“So
it would appear.”
“You
suspect this to be a forgery?”
“It
has been proven to be so.”
“Then
yes, this is Gundaker’s work, I’m sure. It’s all of a piece
with his methods.” Artur handed back the letter. “You have a
sentimental attachment to this Mary Amadeus?”
Paul
hesitated. “Rather, I have a sentimental attachment to her friend,
and wish to return a favor.”
Artur
nodded and tapped the side of his nose. “Say no more.” He mopped
his brow again. “Curse this heat! Well, I would advise you discover
the late Professor’s real reasoning on the subject. Any halfway
competent authority on law would be of help.” He pointed to the
letter. “That is merely a delaying tactic on the Dowager’s part.”
“So
I surmised.” Paul folded the letter and put it back in his pocket.
“But to what end?”