A Company of Heroes Book One: The Stonecutter (13 page)

“Yes, General,” answers the soldier, who has not only seen with his own eyes what happens to people who do not understand Praxx, but has himself carried out many of those chastenings.

“Good. Be certain that no one knows what I am to tell you who does not need to know, and then think twice about it. Use only your most trusts men.”

“Yes, General.”

“The Princess Bronwyn has disappeared. A cursory search has not found her anywhere within the palace. I want you to conduct a thorough investigation. I don’t want a single room overlooked, however unlikely it may seem that she may be there. Make a clean sweep through the complex. Comb her out like a louse.”

“The general knows how many rooms and corridors the palace has? It’ll take a great many of my men.”

“Yes, yes, you’re right. But tell them as little as possible. Tell them, if you have to tell them anything, that the princess may be kidnapped. Tell them you suspect some faction of trying to disrupt the coming coronation. Yes, that’ll be an excellent reason to impose strict secrecy on the search.”

“Yes, General.”

“Start immediately; I want the first report this evening.”

“Yes, General.”

“Also, I want a Guard posted at the Privy Council. I have reason to believe the princess may be on her way there. Surround the building if necessary. She is not to be permitted entrance. Under
any
circumstances,” he adds darkly. “Do you understand?”

“I understand, General. And when the princess is found?”

“Bring her to my chambers immediately.”

“Yes, General.”

The captain gives a spring-loaded salute, turns and leaves the hall, his boot heels ringing like some broken clock chiming an endless midnight.

Praxx receives his first report from the captain long before the deadline. As soon as the man requested an audience, the general knew something is wrong. The palace has literally hundreds of rooms of all kinds ‘though not quite the thousands that Ferenc imagined, there are more than enough all the same) and scarcely a fraction could have been visited in the time that has passed. The soldier came to attention, heels rapping together like a gunshot, fur shako held in the crook of one arm.

“Well?” frowns Praxx.

“General, I have news of the princess.”

“It’s not anything that I really hope to hear, is it?”

“I am afraid not, General. The search that you ordered had barely begun when I received a report that the princess is no longer in the palace.”

“
What
? Why not? She can’t possibly have known of the search; why would she leave the palace? She has nowhere to go but the Privy Council.” Those last two sentences were muttered to himself.

“General, the princess apparently tried to enter the Privy Council chambers. One of the Guards there attempted to forcibly prevent her from doing so.”

“The idiot! I want that man’s name!”

“I have it here, General. The building had not yet been surrounded, but extra Guards had been placed at the entrances. The princess apparently noticed this, and turned to leave. Instead of reporting this to me, the man tried to stop her. He shouted to her to halt.”

“Musrum!”

“She ran across the open grounds; the Guard who had challenged her raised an alarm and was joined by two of his comrades. The princess disappeared into the construction area where the new greenhouses are being installed.”

“Damn. Those are on the south side of the island, are they not?”

“Yes, Sir, they are.”

“Is there any chance of her escaping across the north causeway?”

“No, Sir. The search was begun from the north. There is a virtually solid wall of men stretching from east to west. There has been a roadblock on the north causeway since you issued your orders to me.”

“Good! Good man. Now, what will her options be, do you think?”

“I cannot hazard a guess there, Sir. I do not know why she is running.”

“So you don’t. You don’t need to know that much; not yet, at least. I will tell you this, however: the princess has taken something of great value, something of deadly danger to both the throne and to my position, yours, too, for that matter. You don’t need to know what it is she stole, only that it exists and that the princess has it and has every reason to use it and every intention of doing so. You may, if you wish, consider it a weapon.”

“What should I look for?”

“A package, I would expect, about so by so. I don’t know what she would be carrying it in, but it isn’t large and can’t weigh more than a pound or so. When the princess is found, bring whatever she has with her to me, whatever it may be, anything at all. Under no circumstance whatsoever is anything to be examined before I see it. Is that understood?”

“Yes, General.”

Praxx paces his austere apartment for several minutes, while the obedient captain stands waiting, as still and patient as a tombstone. The general is thinking: What harm can the princess do if she’s prevented from reaching the Privy Council? The coronation’s only three weeks away; after that, she’ll be powerless. The Council will disband next week in order to allow its members to prepare for the ceremonies. Many of them have homes in distant parts of the kingdom: in seven days they’ll be scatters over hundreds of square miles. Reaching any one individual will do the princess no good at all. All that is necessary then is to prevent her from approaching the Council while it’s still in session. Afterwards, she can be arrested at leisure. But I know the princess. She’ll not give up easily. She’s stubborn, loathes Payne Roelt and would do almost anything to see her brother not ascend the throne. So what
will
she do? What’re her alternatives if she’s prevented from reaching the Privy Council?
Has
she any? The barons are Lord Roelt’s only other real enemies, well, so is the Church, but we’ll be taking care of that soon enough, his most formidable enemies, if it comes to that. Will the princess be able to do anything with them? I don’t see how. They’ve no formal organization, no elected or official leader. No, that’s not strictly true. Baron Monzon, the prince and princess’ cousin, is in fact the leader of the baronage. A powerful man who has the respect of all of the barons, though his power is certainly more physical and charismatic than it is intellectual. There are few brighter stars in the Tedeschiiy constellation, save the princess. Nevertheless, the barons’re looking for any excuse destroy Lord Roelt. After the fiasco last month, and doesn’t that scare the hell out of Payne!, they’d be careful to do it legally. The letters’ll be exactly what they need. Like the Privy Council will be in a week, the barons are presently scattered all over the country. But what if the letters are to fall into the hands of just one particular baron, namely Piers Monzon? He’d have the news spread to the others within days. They’d march in force on the city and that would be that. There’s not a soul who’d lift a finger to save Lord Roelt. Certainly not I! Well, then. If she can’t get to the Council, she’ll try to reach her cousin. But he’s north, on the border, some five hundred miles from here. Can she get there in time? The barons would only need a few days to organize themselves. They can probably delay the coronation by word alone, well in advance of any march. She’d have two weeks, then; seventeen days at the most. It is just possible. How to keep her at bay, then? It isn’t necessary to actually
find
her, though it’d be reassuring to know exactly where she is. It’s only necessary to block her way to the north, just as we blocked her way to the council. There’re only a few ways to cross the Slideen River, if she’s on the south side of Palace Island.

He turns to the large-scale wall map of Blavek and its environs that is the room’s only decoration.

The palace causeway’s the only option for miles in either direction, he decides. Two bridges cross the Moltus on the other side of the City, one due north of the causeway and the other from the Catstongue district. If she went west, she’d have both the Slideen and the Moltus to cross. If she goes to the east, she’ll have only the Moltus, though it has fewer bridges because of the shipping. Blocking them all would be simple. Of course, easiest of all would be to keep her from leaving Palace Island in the first place.

Praxx turns to the captain, who still stands exactly as he has been. His eyes have a lusterless look, as though he has not even blinked while the general’s back was turned and his eyeballs have dried out. This, in fact, is exactly what has happened.

“Captain,” says Praxx, “the princess must at all costs be prevented from leaving the island. If she’s indeed on the south side, we want to keep her there. Double the Guards on the south causeway.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“I want a report every half hour.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“That’s all.” And the captain spins on his heels as though he is on ball bearings and leaves the room. Praxx goes to the single small window of his apartment. A pigeon rests on the sill and he chases it away. Time passes. The first three or four reports from the captain or one of his aides bring no news of the princess, which is only probably not good. The next report is definitely not good.

“General, Sir,” says the captain, “there’s been an incident.”

“An incident?”

“Yes, Sir. There’s been a fire and an explosion.”

“That is that strange thump I heard?”

“I expect so, Sir. It was in the heating plant for the stables.”

“How many abandoned their positions in the search cordon to investigate?”

“Eight, Sir.”

“You have their names?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Then you know what to do about them.”

“They are being taken care of, Sir, as we speak.”

“So that’s when she left the island.”

“So I presume, Sir. Do you have orders?”

“She’ll avoid the roads to the west and south. Besides, to the west of the city she’d run into the Macska River as well as having to pass the garrisons. I suspect she’ll not stray far from the Slideen. That leaves the Transmoltus. So far as I know, she’s never been there nor knows anyone there. She ought to be easy to pick out of the rabble. Alert your men and agents to be on the lookout. As long as she keeps moving in any direction but north, all’s well; but I’d very much like to get my hands on what she’s carrying.”

“Yes, General,” replies the captain, saluting and exiting the apartment geometrically.

Two more hours go by without significant news. The next time Praxx hears from the captain is by way of a handwritten note delivered by messenger. After perfunctorily dismissing the man, Praxx breaks the thick seals and reads the letter, written in such a neat hand it might have been typewritten. It says ‘after the usual greetings):

The trail of our quarry was easily picked up. She has been seen passing through the Slideen Gate by the one man who had remained at his post when the others had abandoned theirs. I have recommended this soldier for a commendation ‘please see attached memorandum). He did not pursue the fugitive since his orders were only to report any observation. I alerted the commandant at the garrison as a precaution, though, like you, I do not believe she would try to escape in that direction. I also established roadblocks along all roads to the south. The Guard post in the Transmoltus was notified, as were the police in that district. The police were told nothing other than that we are in pursuit of a fugitive and gave them only the most superficial of descriptions. They have learned in the past not to ask questions. They are ordered to not interfere with the fugitive, but to report directly to me. It is in fact through a police report that we got our first sighting. I sent a squad to her last reported location. By then, I had received two more reports, which gave me a rough indication of the direction she was traveling. The reports were from random points: as I had suspected, she is giving every indication of being lost. I had my men circle the area in which she had been seen and it was not long before she was sighted. Unfortunately, she saw the Guards as well ‘they are often too distinctive to operate effectively and I have attached a memorandum proposing a plain-clothes police force) and took flight. As you know, the Transmoltus is a crowded district and pursuit was made difficult by the number of civilians on the streets who are unfortunately not always willing to cooperate with the Guards. Warning shots wee fired, which tended to help, but the men wee never able to approach closer than a few score yards. She disappeared while hotly pursued. She had turned a corner, just ahead of my men, and apparently vanished. I am convinced that she has found succor in a factory there, a firm of stonecutters. I am presently having the building thoroughly searched.

Praxx crumpled the flimsy paper and angrily threw it into the big ceramic stove that fills a corner of his room. There are no further reports until the next morning.

A Guard had been murdered ‘says the first report of the new day) in the main drainage canal that runs through the Transmoltus.

Praxx puzzles over the significance of this for some time. There have been no other reports that seem to mean anything, yet he can not understand the meaning of this one either. Still it bothers him. The man has been placed in the canal as an afterthought by the captain, who in his thoroughness meant to leave no exits unaccounted for, however unlikely they might seem. And of all the Guards in the district, this man had been the only one to have experienced any difficulty, if difficulty is not too great an understatement since the man’s neck had been broken like a pencil; very much, in fact, like the broken pencils that now litter Praxx’s desk. There is simply no way the princess could have been responsible for that. At least not while she was alone. But, Praxx knew very well, Princess Bronwyn has no acquaintances outside of the palace and aristocratic circles, and certainly none within the Transmoltus. So far as the outside world is concerned, she has no existence. Could she have appealed to a stranger? There are, Praxx knew too well, all too many who would be glad to frustrate Prince Ferenc, Payne Roelt and himself. Can she have found someone like that? When and where? How? He presses a button on his desk and almost immediately the captain enters in response. Although the man must not have slept a minute since the last time Praxx has seen him, he looks exactly as before, like a photograph cut out of a recruitment poster.