The Iscariot Sanction (22 page)

Lillian breathed easy. More than that, she saw Cherleten in a different light all at once. He’d had presence of mind enough—or perhaps even some trickery from the armoury—to shake off the almost soporific influence of Shah’s sing-song tones and uncanny will, and Cherleten had used that composure to put himself in harm’s way to defend the prince. Lillian found that admirable, if not reassuring; he was, after all, a greying man of middle years, with not half the formidable military training of her father or Sir Toby.

And it was Sir Toby who spoke next, choosing, Lillian thought, to ignore whatever odd experience they had all just shared.

‘Sir Valayar, you seek to move the discussion from what you call “petty” matters to one of global import. Under normal circumstances, with a normal guest, I would applaud your audacity and perhaps approve of the sentiment. But in this matter I—and, I imagine, all of those fine gentlemen assembled here—find it hard to overlook the criminal acts to which you allude. Accusations of murder fall at your door—at the door of Lord de Montfort, whose title, I might add, the honourable House of Lords does not recognise. The death of at least one servant of the Crown preceded your arrival, the admission of guilt signed by de Montfort himself. And lastly, but most certainly of greatest consequence, there is the matter of the nature of the Knights Iscariot. Yes, we do indeed understand your “nature”, if it can be called natural at all. And as we understand it, your kind is sustained only by the blood of the living—specifically, the blood of human beings.’

Lillian felt a chill run through her veins at the very words, and saw from the reactions of those around her that she was not alone.

‘Sir Toby, your directness and astuteness befit your estimable reputation,’ the emissary replied, ‘but I would indeed ask you to overlook the things that you may personally find distasteful, and think instead of the greater good. Think what we might accomplish together, as one united force.’

‘I cannot see for a moment what we might accomplish,’ Richard Cross interrupted.

‘Please, Home Secretary, have your say,’ said Sir Toby.

‘This… “Sir” Valayar,’ Cross said, clearly angry, ‘brings to us promises of peace while not denying that his people prey on ours, and will doubtless continue to do so if Lord Cherleten’s intelligence is correct.’ At this, Shah’s eyes—and his unsettling smile—fell upon Cherleten, who still had not moved from his position by Prince Leopold. ‘I agree wholeheartedly with Sir Toby’s sentiment: this is not a matter for diplomatic talks. Indeed, I cannot understand why we are here at all. The emissary merely seeks to bargain for amnesty for his master—a master who is too cowardly to submit himself to the Queen’s justice.’

‘Ah, but my learned friend makes a mistake,’ said Shah.

‘Mistake?’ spat Cross, indignation writ large across his craggy features.

‘A mistake, indeed. Firstly, there is the false assumption that one of the Knights Iscariot, such as my master, is subject to the justice of your Crown. As I said, we pay tribute to a royal line far older than your queen’s, and thus consider ourselves subjects of another sovereign.’

‘While you are within this great kingdom, sir, you are subject to the laws of its ruler. Whether you choose to recognise them or not is irrelevant.’ This time the speaker was Prince Leopold, who remained seated, eyes narrowed and fingers pressed together. His tone was regal and, Lillian was surprised to note, laden with no small amount of menace.

‘Forgive me, sir, for I meant no disrespect,’ Shah said, at once bowing low. ‘I merely attempt to explain our position, as it was explained to me.’ A plea for leniency, it seemed; Lillian fancied that Shah played the humble messenger only when it suited him.

‘Enough of this,’ said Sir Toby, ‘It is high time you explained to us exactly what your master brings to the table. Perhaps he promises an end to the killing of innocent men and women, which apparently is a long tradition of the Knights Iscariot.’

‘That, Sir Toby, we cannot promise,’ said Shah, his softly accented voice purring from behind large white teeth. ‘The taking of blood is not a tradition, as you so delicately put it, but the means of our survival. Since before the time of Christ, we have lived thus, and through certain… peculiarities of our race, we could not change even if we desired it.’

‘Blasphemy!’ growled Cross.

‘And do you?’ Prince Leopold asked, leaning forwards in his chair. ‘Do you wish to change?’

Shah cocked his head and held the prince’s gaze, looking more and more like a grotesque ventriloquist’s dummy, his white skin waxen-looking. ‘Does a tiger desire the fruits of the earth when the deer are plentiful?’

‘You believe us… prey?’ The prince glowered.

Lillian blinked hard. Was Shah several paces from his seat once again? When had he moved? It seemed that the emissary’s words, if not his rictus grin, were hypnotic.

‘Do not be insulted, my prince,’ said Shah, extending a long, bony arm in a supplicating gesture. ‘You have undoubtedly heard many folk tales designed to scare children to their beds of a night. But the truth is that we have always been, and always shall be. Most of us rarely need to feed in the manner that causes you such concern, for we are old and our dependence on human blood wanes with each passing winter. The younger members of our order, however, have certain… needs. Yet even these are mostly sated by common men who give of themselves willingly, eager to be a part of a tradition spanning two thousand years.’

‘Most, but not all,’ Sir Toby said.

‘Transgressions are unfortunate,’ said Shah, ‘but far less common than murder and violence amongst your own kind. Our order polices itself.’

‘I suggest you step back, Sir Valayar. I suggest it most strongly indeed.’

At the sound of Lord Cherleten’s voice, which was uncharacteristically set and forceful, Lillian blinked again. The emissary had reached the other end of the table, almost within striking distance of the prince, and the agents and even the gathered dignitaries seemed not to have noticed—most were looking abstractedly at the table. Cherleten alone stood before Shah, his expression fierce. Someone had to act, and Lillian was first to respond.

Darting past Sir Arthur and two other agents, her movements seeming to wake them from their reveries, Lillian was beside Cherleten in a heartbeat, derringer drawn and aimed at Shah’s head. The emissary of the Knights Iscariot looked down at her, his expression fixed. Perhaps he could not change it if he wanted to.

‘Return to your place, Sir Valayar,’ she said. ‘If you please.’

‘Ah, misplaced loyalty,’ said Shah to Lillian, his eyes darting to Cherleten and back. ‘Ever is it the bane of your kind.’

The strange woman who accompanied Shah at once sprang to life, her feline movements affording her an inhuman quality as she stalked to her master’s side. Sir Arthur and the other nearby agents intercepted the woman at once, at which she let out a long hiss, which tailed away into a low, staccato sound that put Lillian in mind of the bestial ghouls with the parchment skin.

As it dawned on everyone in the room what was happening, a general clamour was raised. The dignitaries, Cross and Sir Edmund Henderson foremost amongst them, leapt from their seats and harangued the visitor, while their trusted attendants rushed to their sides. Only Leopold remained seated, and as Shah and his vile creature were escorted back to their places at the other end of the room, he held up his hands and demanded silence.

‘Please, gentlemen—and ladies—none of us wants any violence here today. Is that not correct, Sir Valayar?’

‘It is indeed, sir,’ Valayar said, bowing. ‘I was merely stretching my legs, as is my peculiar manner. I forgot myself.’

‘My learned colleagues asked you a question earlier, Sir Valayar,’ the prince went on, ‘which you have still not answered to their satisfaction. What is it that de Montfort offers, which is not already our right as rulers of these isles?’

‘Knowledge, power, peace, prosperity. We offer you two thousand years of ancient lore—enough to make the long-dead librarians of Alexandria weep with joy. We offer the very secrets of the Knights Iscariot, secrets that will cure myriad human frailties, and help you to fight the Riftborn that even now gather at the threshold between worlds, waiting to grow fat on your mortal souls.’

‘Not your souls also?’ Leopold asked, an eyebrow raised.

‘Indeed not, my prince, for the Knights Iscariot have long possessed the means to battle esoteric forces. It is why Sir Toby’s pet Majestic, Sir Arthur Furnival, even now seeks ingress to my thoughts, but is able to find none.’ Sir Valayar shot a glare at Sir Arthur, who had been touching his fingers to his temple in concentration, and now was forced to stop awkwardly as all eyes fell upon him. ‘Are not these secrets worth a hearing of our terms?’ Shah asked.

‘Let us hear these terms, and then we shall decide,’ Sir Toby said.

Shah bowed once more. ‘You are quite right, Sir Toby,’ he said. ‘It is time for the pleasantries to be concluded. As I can see it suits the honourable gentlemen, let me speak plainly, so that I shall not be misunderstood, and so you all might return to your beds the sooner. In exchange for our cooperation in all matters, the Knights Iscariot require a place to call our own. A home. As we have made our business in the industrial north, that is what we want: the north. Henceforth, we request that Yorkshire, Lancashire, Cheshire, Westmoreland, Durham, Northumberland and Cumberland are seceded to our rule, and recognised as a single independent principality, under the rulership of my masters, for whom Lord de Montfort is the recognised representative. In return, the shipyards and mining works of Northumberland will be subject to a trade agreement, granting the British Crown exclusive contractual rights to services provided by our operations. The stipulations are written in great detail in the treaty that my lord has already drawn up, to be studied at your leisure. These, gentlemen, are our terms, and they are non-negotiable.’

There was uproar in the room. The prince’s advisers clamoured around him, vying for his attention; the others shouted their outrage, slinging insults at the emissary, who swayed his head slowly, snake-like, grinning throughout. Sir Toby quelled the assembly. As he stood, he looked more commanding than the royal prince, or any of the elected officials present.

‘What you ask is madness. More than that, it is tantamount to a declaration of war. You know that?’

‘No, no, Sir Toby. What I ask is necessary to
avoid
violence,’ replied the emissary.

‘A ransom, then. And what of the people of the north? The
human
subjects of Great Britain; what of them?’

‘Lord de Montfort assures me that all of your officials—your magistrates, councillors, clerics, clerks, soldiers and any other notable personages of your choosing, will be allowed to leave our lands, or stay on in exile. The remainder of the common citizenry not so named will be… ours. Our subjects. Our servants.’

Lillian saw Sir Toby’s fists clench, and yet his rage barely manifested as he replied, ‘And if we choose to reject your proposals… forcibly?’

‘You will lose,’ came the reply, matter-of-factly. ‘We have already treated with the Scots. So far seventeen local magistrates have agreed a policy of non-intervention in return for our support after the secession. There is barely a farm, factory or fishery left in Scotland that has not signed some agreement or other with our agents. In short, gentlemen, you can expect no help from north of the border, not even from those regiments you believe loyal to your queen. Likewise, other emissaries have already petitioned Austria-Hungary and Russia to recognise our right to secede. When our negotiations have concluded, we have no doubt that the Prussians, French and Dutch will support our claims, too. In exchange for our business and, more importantly, our assistance in ending the unholy terror of the Riftborn, they are willing to end trade agreements with the British Crown, and provide military aid to protect their… new investments… from English aggression. We will be a fledgling sovereign state, and we have already taken steps to secure our autonomy.’

‘Our allies would not dare turn on us for the likes of you!’ Richard Cross spluttered.

‘Not alone, this is true. But united, and knowing that the Knights Iscariot already have a foothold on English soil… you will find there is little they would not do in exchange for our knowledge, and our industrial wealth. I put it to you, Home Secretary, that you would be wise to do the same.’

‘Do not propose to lecture me—’

‘Please, gentlemen,’ said Prince Leopold, taking to his feet, ‘let us not give in to anger. It would seem to me that Sir Valayar’s proposals, even with the support of our supposed allies, are insufficient for his needs. Not only that, but the treaty he has mentioned has not yet appeared. Therefore, I presume he has more to say, unless, of course, he wishes to find himself taken into custody by Sir Edmund’s constables.’

‘His Royal Highness is as astute as he is genteel,’ said Shah. ‘We have, of course, made certain assurances far in advance. This is the first time we have thrown ourselves upon the mercy of an uncaring world; it would be folly to do so without preparation, for our people have ever been feared and even persecuted over the centuries.’

Cross muttered something disparaging, though everyone else pretended he’d said nothing.

‘I come to you today on your territory, as a gesture of good faith,’ Shah went on. ‘But the treaty shall be signed in the north. My masters suggest gathering at Scarrowfall, a great estate that has become the home of our kind this past decade. Every hospitality shall be extended, and your delegation shall have all the time they need to review the treaty before signing. We shall welcome Her Majesty the Queen to our home.’

‘The Queen?’ This was the first time Lord Hardwick had addressed the diplomat directly, his voice full of displeasure.

‘Of course, Lord Hardwick. I said before, did I not, that my masters are of a royal line, more ancient than any on this earth. They will brook no substitute for their agreement than the Crown, whose rulership extends over the Empire by the grace of God.’