Michael Stackpole - At the Queen_s command

A man after my own heart. Owen threw the man a salute, then found the waiting soldier outside. They set off and entered the city center from the south, passing beneath the shadow of St. Martin's Cathedral. Like the Frost's house, it had been built of granite, with flying buttresses and a gray slate roof. The bell tower rose to the height of fifty feet and had a cross atop it that went another twenty. It had been modeled on St. Paul's in Launston, but lacked the ornate statuary in niches at the front. The bronze doors were smaller and had been shipped from Norisle, as no native industry could have produced them.

To the west lay Government House. Like the Cathedral, it had been scaled down from its Norillian counterpart. Stone had not been wasted on more than the foundation-local timber had been used to finish it. Three stories tall, it had been built wide rather than deep. It occupied the whole of the western edge of the square and had three separate sets of doors: one for each wing, and the broader central doors toward which the Private led Owen.

Colonel Langford waited impatiently inside the foyer, a relatively cramped space with creaking floorboards and tall windows. He dismissed the soldier with a snarl, then pulled Owen into a shadowed corner.

"What did you say to the Prince yesterday?"

Owen stood tall."I do not believe the Prince intended you to be privy to our conversation, sir, little of which concerned you."

"Captain, I am ordering you."

"We spoke of my mission." Owen opened his hands. "The Prince then invited me to take a look at his wurm. After that, I returned to Temperance."

"You didn't talk about me?"

"Aside from mentioning that I had reported my arrival to you, no, sir."

Langford pursed his lips. "Very well. Here is the thing of it. On occasion the Prince decides that his being Governor-General requires him to do more than his abominable Ryngianesque researches. He wishes to discuss your expedition."

Owen nodded.

"You are required to be there. You will answer questions only if I give you leave to do so. Do you understand?"

"My duty, sir, is to Her Majesty…"

Langford's face darkened. He thrust a finger at Owen's nose. "Your duty, sir, depends upon my support. You will be spending the summer here, perhaps longer. You will need my help. If you know what is good for you, you will do as I tell you to do. You are a very long way from Norisle, Captain. Many things can happen here."

"Am I to interpret that as a threat, Colonel?"

"I won't insult your intelligence, Captain. Your success or failure is at my whim. You do not want to displease me."

Owen drew himself to attention, then saluted. "As you say, sir."

"Very well." Langford crossed the foyer. A liveried servant in a wig bowed and then opened the door to the assembly room at the heart of Government House. That central room ran to the back of the building and was as wide as it was deep. Wooden pillars split it into thirds. Desks and chairs had been moved to the walls, but marks on the floor showed where they normally were arrayed as if for a parliament. Owen guessed that a regional legislature likely used the chamber when the Prince was not in residence.

A throne had been centered toward the back and as they approached, Owen barely recognized the man seated in it. The Prince had donned a full wig, with the curled locks falling past his shoulder both front and back. His blue jacket and gold breeches shimmered brightly-the hallmark of their having been woven from wurmsilk. The jacket facings glowed with burnished red wurmleather, and the black buckles on his matching shoes had been carved from wurmscales.

Colonel Langford stopped four paces shy of the throne and bowed. Owen, a step behind him, followed suit. He then retreated to the right, leaving Langford alone before the Prince.

The three of them were by no means the only people in the room. Not only had some people preceded them, but more entered in their wake. They lined up as if the center of the room had an invisible carpet on which they were afraid to tread. Most reminded him of Dr. Frost-well-dressed in clothes stylishly fashioned from homespun wool and linen. The colors perforce ran to blacks and browns since indigo and other brighter hues had to be imported, but here and there a kerchief or vest lent a splash of color.

Down toward the end, barely inside the doors, stood men who looked quite ill at ease. They wore buckskins, with fringes on the sleeves and down the side seams of the trousers. Beadwork decorated some of the clothes, but most showed only stains on thighs, shins, and at the sleeve-cuffs. These men had a rough, unkempt nature and their shifting postures betrayed an uneasiness with their surroundings.

Prince Vlad raised a hand and the porter closed the doors. "Colonel Langford, so good of you to respond to our request so quickly. We trust we drew you away from nothing vital?"

Langford smiled unctuously. "The Queen's work is never done, Highness, but any service I can render you is always paramount."

"And you, Captain Strake, you were not inconvenienced by this request?"

"No, Highness." Owen shivered at the remote and imperious tone in the Prince's voice-so unlike how he had sounded the day before.

"Colonel, I am given to understand that you have retained Rufus Branch to guide Captain Strake."

"I have, sir. His knowledge of the area is unparalleled."

"Is it?" Prince Vlad frowned. "We should have thought Nathaniel Woods had traveled more extensively, especially in the area where Captain Strake's orders require him to explore."

Langford bowed his head. "Of course, Highness. I should have said Mr. Branch's knowledge is unparalleled among available guides."

The Prince clapped his hands. "Well, then, Colonel, we have excellent news for you. Mr. Woods is available for this assignment. He will arrive presently, so you will tell your… why, look, he is with us. Mr. Branch, you and your men will not be required. You're free to go."

The ruffians at the far end of the room appeared quite surprised, but Langford's rising voice cut off the dull roar of their conversation. "Highness, you cannot dismiss them."

"Did we hear you correctly, Colonel? We cannot dismiss them?"

"Yes, Highness. They have a contract to provide services. It would be great hardship for them if it were to be set aside."

Prince Vlad's chin came up. "Would it? These men appear to be hale and hearty to me. Could they not avail themselves better by going out and trapping something? We could not be paying them more than they would make trading and trapping, could we?"

"It is a complicated matter, Highness." Langford's face grew hard. "An army matter, Highness. Quite outside the things you need worry about."

"We believe you will find, Colonel, that all your funding comes through the Ministry of the Exchequer, which is a civilian organization. It is, therefore, of concern to us. The fact is that Mr. Woods-a guide you have proclaimed to be superior to your selection-is available for two gold crowns. We believe this is a considerable savings over your proposed budget."

Langford began to sputter, but the Prince raised a hand. "We are not finished. It has come to our attention that there are rumors of your personal financial involvement with the Casks and Branches, Colonel, as well as other irregularities."

Langford's face flushed. "Do you have proof, Highness, of these insulting accusations? Would you trust rumors over the word of a gentleman that contradicts them?"

"No, Colonel, but I am duty bound to prepare a report and forward it to the proper authorities."

"But it would be baseless."

Owen took a step forward. "Begging Your Highness' pardon; on my word as a gentleman, the Colonel's financial dealings are as warped as an old, wurmrest door. If you wish, I shall compile what I have learned so far into a report ready for transport back to Norisle when the Coronet sails."