The Dog of the North (35 page)

‘Captain Beauceron,’ she said, rising from her seat to shake his hand, ‘I am honoured by your visit.’

‘And I by your invitation,’ replied Beauceron, unwilling to be outdone in empty formality.

Agalina gave a half-smile. She understood the game. Her dark hair, which would normally have cascaded in a gentle wave, was confined in a fillet behind her head; her equally dark eyes knew no
such restraint, and took in Beauceron’s person with a look of frank appraisal.

‘Please, take a macaroon cake,’ she said, proffering a plate. ‘I find in the winter I crave sugar to keep my mood sanguine.’

Beauceron accepted with an inclination of his head. ‘The time for sweetmeats will soon be past, my lady; spring can be only a few weeks away.’

‘My father’s thaumaturge suggests less than a month,’ she said. ‘How I hate the cold.’

‘King Tardolio maintains a weather-wizard?’ he asked in surprise.

‘Of course – and not just to foretell the weather,’ she said. ‘When the first green shoot is seen in the garden at the Occonero, it is spring, and the Summer Court steps
forth. My father would be negligent if he did not attempt to speed the event. Pintuccio is not simply a thaumaturge but a horticul-turalist.’

‘I had never considered the matter,’ said Beauceron. ‘No doubt King Fanrolio employs a similar device.’

‘Just so. His thaumaturge attempts to bring on the first snows, of course.’

Beauceron furrowed his brow. ‘I was not aware that he maintained a thaumaturge.’

‘Of course not. You are out in the field in the autumn, trying to clip the last Emmen heads before the winter comes.’

‘How we are all run by the seasons,’ said Beauceron with a smile.

Agalina sipped at her tea. ‘You are right, Captain. No doubt there are good reasons for our customs in Mettingloom, but they lead to some curious outcomes. There cannot be a King who has
not considered uniting the crowns.’

‘By force, necessarily.’

‘Since the sole other option would be my marriage to that buffoon Brissio, I can only hope so.’

‘Your brother has a similar conversation technique of alluding to the unthinkable to assess the listener’s attitude. Let me state unequivocally I have no interest in overthrowing
King Fanrolio; and I would make the least apt marriage-broker imaginable.’

Agalina gave a high tinkling laugh. ‘I have in mind neither of the schemes you suggest – although I confess I would raise an army myself to avoid marrying Brissio. It may also
interest you to know that Laertio departs for Niente on the morrow.’

‘Far Niente? How so?’

‘Candidly, my father does not trust him. At times his conduct goes beyond headstrong.’

Beauceron cast his mind back to Laertio’s schemes and grimaced.

‘I see you take my meaning,’ she said with a chilly smile. ‘My brother’s position prevents him facing the full consequences of his acts; that does not apply to his
associates.’

Beauceron inclined his head.

Agalina smiled as she sipped her tea. ‘I had not been sure what manner of man I would find today. I admit that your intelligence is at the upper end of my expectations.’

Beauceron rubbed his ear. ‘I would have been distressed to find it otherwise.’

‘Tell me,’ she said, leaning forward, ‘is your rage against Croad as extreme as is portrayed?’

‘I suffered a great wrong from the rulers of Croad in my youth. My pride does not allow me to forget it.’

‘Will you not tell me of this slight?’

Beauceron gave an ironic smile. ‘I have not spoken of it thus far; I see no reason to change my policy today. I would not wish to impugn you with the vice of vulgar curiosity, but if I
were to tell you of my feelings, you would regard them as trivial, overstated or even – worst of all – pitiable. I am always conscious that an air of mystery sits well upon a
man.’

Agalina’s round cheeks dimpled. ‘You are more adroit than I had expected. Are there any lengths you would not take to reach your goal?’

‘I prefer not to deal in hypotheses.’

‘Very well,’ she said, her eyes flashing. ‘Let me be more explicit. You have been acquitted of conspiring with Sir Goccio to lead the Summer Armies against Croad. Legal
processes being what they are, acquittal and innocence need not be one and the same.’

Beauceron said nothing.

‘If my father were keen to avenge Jehan’s Steppe, he would not use a reed like Sir Goccio. You should perhaps have realized this.’

Beauceron nodded.

‘I am going to make an assumption,’ continued Agalina: ‘that you would not, in fact, be hostile to involvement in my father’s army if he chose to move against
Croad.’

‘If you have followed my recent trial you will be aware that such an intent on my part would be treasonous.’

‘Pah! We are alone. Talk of treason is irrelevant in this context.’

‘I have enemies in the Winter Court. I cannot treat treason in the cavalier fashion you suggest.’

‘I am the King’s daughter. If I say that I know Tardolio wishes to avenge Jehan’s Steppe, you can believe me.’

‘Your brother said the opposite,’ said Beauceron with a frosty smile.

‘For reasons we both understand, and which we need not explore here. My father wishes to avenge Jehan’s Steppe, and he wishes you to help him. He understands your unique constraints;
at this stage, an agreement in principle will be sufficient.’

‘What you ask is not trivial. I have been approached twice before with the selfsame offer.’

Agalina gave him a haughty look. ‘These men were Davanzato’s agents. You may be sure that the Summer King’s daughter is not.’

‘Will the invasion go ahead without me?’

‘Candidly? I do not know. You have special information which will make any assault more likely to succeed; you have a troop well used to fighting in the South and a lust to take the city.
Without that, I do not know.’

‘Special information?’

‘Do not fence with me, Beauceron. You grew up in Croad. Indeed, I think you grew up in the lord’s household.’

‘You veer into the realm of speculation,’ said Beauceron with a tight expression.

‘I am a student of history,’ she said. ‘I spend much time in my father’s excellent library. It occurred to me to wonder what could cause a man to hate the ruling family
of Croad with such a passion. It would have to be a matter of great moment. Lord Thaume did more than whip your kitten; he took something from you which haunts you to this day.’

Beauceron stared back at her wordlessly.

‘Perhaps he took the future you imagined for yourself. Or perhaps he took your birthright, and gave it to his son. Am I right, my lord?’

Beauceron rose from his seat, his mouth a thin line. ‘I am Beauceron: who I was before I came here is of no consequence. If your father wishes to destroy Oricien, and take Croad, all he
needs to know is that Beauceron understands that passion.’

‘Sit down,’ said Agalina softly. ‘I did not mean to pry. I have great admiration for what you have achieved; and any man who comes to Mettingloom has the right to be judged on
his deeds. Be assured I will never speak of the question again, if it displeases you.’

Beauceron set his jaw. ‘Tell your father to call on me when he needs me,’ he said. ‘I will be there.’

8

A week later Beauceron presented himself at the Occonero. ‘I am here to see Davanzato,’ he said with a calm assurance to the guard, who was a stone heavier and
three inches taller than him.

‘The Under-Chamberlain does not see anyone without an appointment.’

‘Then make me one. Perhaps you would like to make us tisane as well.’

The guard stepped closer to Beauceron. ‘Already I dislike you. I am a good judge of Davanzato’s perceptions. I don’t think he will like you either.’

Beauceron permitted himself a smile. ‘When you are discharged from this post, a calling as a clown awaits you. Davanzato fabricated evidence to have me tried for treason; does that not
already suggest dislike?’

The man drew back. ‘You are Beauceron?’

‘And you are?’

‘Ferliccio. Davanzato said if you had the audacity to present yourself I was to whip the hide from your arse.’

Beauceron sized Ferliccio up. He was a big man, well-muscled, but he did not look quick. ‘I bear you no ill-will,’ he said. ‘I will not suggest we put the matter to the test.
Let us treat Davanzato’s remark as a jocularity. You may allow me admittance.’

Ferliccio nodded to his colleague on the other side of the corridor; both he and Ferliccio drew their swords.

‘Go now,’ said Ferliccio. ‘We will pretend you have never been here.’

Beauceron shrugged and turned away. With a rapid motion he turned back and smashed his elbow into the second man’s nose. Ferliccio moved towards Beauceron with his sword but it was too
late: Beauceron’s rapier had skewered his wrist to the heavy wooden table. He uttered a low-voiced curse.

‘I do not know,’ said Beauceron, ‘why Davanzato does not pay the rate necessary to secure competent guards. One would think he had learned by now.’

He pulled Ferliccio’s sword from his nerveless fingers and tossed it over the balcony to the marble floor below, where it rang with a discordant clamour. He flicked his rapier out of
Ferliccio’s wrist and stepped into Davanzato’s doorway. ‘You are a fool. Do you think I became Dog of the North through insipidity? Threaten me again and you die.’

Ferliccio did not meet his gaze.

‘Davanzato,’ called Beauceron as he stepped through the doorway. ‘Your new guards are inept.’

Davanzato looked up from his desk, where he had been poring over a ledger. He half rose, reached for a rapier lying at his side.

Beauceron grinned. ‘Carry on. If you wish to fence, let us proceed at once. I have long imagined the outcome of such an encounter.’

Davanzato returned to his seat, a pallor discernible through his olive skin. ‘What do you intend? I warn you, I am not friendless.’

‘I intend no impudence; although naturally my feelings towards you are not cordial. You cannot find that surprising.’

‘You are a brash, coarse man, to threaten the King’s Under-Chamberlain thus in his own office.’

Beauceron sheathed his rapier and sat down. ‘You mistake me. I have threatened nothing.’

‘You have arrived, uninvited, in my office, with your blade drawn. Is that not a threat?’

Beauceron leaned forward. ‘You should see me when I truly mean to intimidate. I needed my rapier only to discountenance your guards.’

Davanzato had recovered something of his composure. ‘What, then, do you want?’

‘Nothing could be simpler: my audience with the King.’

Davanzato gave an incredulous smile. ‘The King you purposed treason against?’

You may recall that I was acquitted.’

‘Only through the agency of a quibbling legulier.’

‘We both know that the evidence was fabricated.’

‘Equally we both know that you were guilty. Will you take a drink? Langensnap, perhaps?’

‘I think not.’

Davanzato gave a negligent gesture. ‘You still expect an audience with Fanrolio?’

‘Of course. My plans remain unchanged: to lead the Winter Armies against Croad. The extent of your duplicity surprised me, but I cannot afford either scruples or squeamishness. I am even
prepared to overlook your offences against me if you deliver what I require.’

‘You are in no position to do anything else.’

‘You have misread the situation, Davanzato. I offered you significant bribes to arrange an audience. For your own reasons you chose to oppose me instead. Now you are out of pocket and the
King’s favour. Your prosecution made the Winter Court a laughing stock.’

‘My only concern throughout was His Puissance’s welfare. I believe your obsession can only end in disaster for Mettingloom. I acted honourably in obstructing it.’

‘And in taking my gratuities while you did so?’

‘Your “gratuity” included Lady Isola’s ransom agency. A more expensive present I have never received.’

‘You have your grievances; I have mine. All can be laid to rest if you provide my audience with Fanrolio.’

‘Why should I, given my opposition to your schemes?’

Beauceron stood and walked towards the door. ‘Because I will kill you if you do not. I am beyond – well beyond – the point of rational calculation. You have two days to arrange
the audience. Without it you will end the week with a still heart.’

He walked out of the room without a backward glance. He no longer cared if Davanzato carried out his commission, or which King approved his scheme. But if Davanzato was worried about his own
safety, he would have that much less time to plot against Beauceron. If the audience came to pass, that could be turned to advantage; if not, Agalina’s offer remained in force. When dealing
with men as slippery as kings, it was always as well to retain several options.

9

Beauceron returned home to find a visitor in his parlour calmly drinking tisane: Lady Cosetta, whom he had not seen for some while.

‘My lady, you are most welcome, and looking lovelier than ever.’

Cosetta was arrayed in a gown of the richest red silk, but set against her complexion it shrank away to insignificance, merely a foil to display her animate perfection. Her blue eyes sparkled
with unquenchable vigour, her cheeks suffused with her ruddy health and youth. Her blonde hair, drawn back from her face and pinned up, set off her cheekbones to their best advantage. Beauceron
thought back to the frightened spiritless girl cowering under an oilskin who had first seen Mettingloom. The transformation was barely to be understood without thaumaturgy.

Cosetta seemed to divine something of his thought. ‘I have been here only four months,’ she said. ‘Already it is hard to remember anything else.’

‘The time has been eventful – and not just for you.’

‘I was glad,’ she said, ‘to see you elude death as you did. You are a rogue, but Davanzato is far worse. I would have hated to see his plot succeed.’

‘Lady Isola no longer believes I will live to be hanged in Croad,’ he said, ‘or so I surmise, given her testimony against me.’

Cosetta shook her head sadly. ‘You must not think ill of her. She is friendless, and desperate. She was an easy victim for a man like Davanzato. But I forget your vengeful disposition. You
will wreak a horrid retribution upon her.’