Read The Traders' War (Merchant Princes Omnibus 2) Online
Authors: Charles Stross
The Traders' War (Merchant Princes Omnibus 2) (14 page)
Henryk paused for a sip of wine. ‘But as you can see, your background does not inspire trust.’
‘Oh.’ Miriam frowned. ‘But that’s not my fault!’
‘Of course not.’ Henryk put his glass down. ‘But you can’t escape it. We’re a young aristocracy, Helge, rough-cut and uncivilized. This is a marcher kingdom, second
sons hunting their fortune on the edges of the great forest. The entire population of this kingdom is perhaps five million, did you know that? You could drop the entire population of Niejwein into
Boston and lose them. The Boston you grew up in, that is. Without us, without the Clan, Gruinmarkt culture and high society would make England in the fifteenth century look cosmopolitan and
sophisticated. It’s true that there are enormous riches on display in the palaces and castles of the aristocracy, but it’s superficial – what you see on display is everything
there is. Not like America, where wealth is so overwhelming that the truly rich store their assets in enormous bank vaults and amuse themselves by aping the dress and manners of the poor.
You’re a fish out of water, and you’re understandably disoriented. The more so because you had no inkling of your place in the great chain of existence until perhaps six months ago. But
you must realize, people here do not labor under your misconceptions. They know you for a child of your parents, your thuggish dead father and your unreliable tearaway mother, and they don’t
expect any better of you because they
know
that blood will out.’
Miriam stared at her white-haired, hollow-cheeked great-uncle. ‘That’s all I am, is it?’ she asked in a thin voice. ‘An ornament on the family tree? And an untrustworthy
one, at that?’
‘By no means.’ Henryk leaned back in his chair. ‘But behavior like this, this display of indecorous –’ He paused. ‘It doesn’t help your case.
I
understand. Others would not. It’s them you have to convince. But you’ve chosen the middle of a crisis to do it in – not the best of timing! Some would consider it evidence of
guile, to make a bid for independence when all hands are at the breach. I don’t for a minute believe you would act in such a manner, but again: it is not me who you must convince. You need to
learn to act within the constraints of your position, not against them. Then you’ll have something to work with.’
‘Um. I should be going, then.’ She rubbed the palm of one hand nervously on her thigh. ‘I guess I should apologize to you for taking up your time.’ She paused for a
moment and forced herself to swallow her pride. ‘Do you have any specific advice for me, about how to proceed?’
‘Hmm.’ Baron Henryk stood and slowly walked over to the window casement. ‘That’s an interesting question.’ He turned, so that his face was shadowed against the
bright daylight outside. ‘What do you want to achieve?’
‘What do I –’ Miriam’s mouth snapped shut. Her eyes narrowed against the glare. ‘I think I made myself clear enough at the extraordinary meeting three months
ago,’ she said.
‘That’s not what I asked. Why don’t you go and think about that question? When you have a better idea, we should talk again. If you’d like to join me for dinner, in a
couple of weeks? Have your confidante write to my secretary to arrange things. Meanwhile, I’ll try to find out what has happened to your assistant, and I’ll ask someone in the security
directorate to look into your affairs in New Britain so that you can go back to them as soon as possible. But if you’ll excuse me, I have other matters to deal with right now.’
Miriam rose. ‘Thank you for finding some time for me,’ she said. Halfway to the door she paused. ‘By the way, what is it you do exactly?’
Henryk stood. ‘Oh, this and that,’ he said lightly. ‘Remember to write.’
*
Outside in the corridor, Miriam found a nervous Kara shifting from foot to foot impatiently. ‘Oh, milady! Can we go now?’
‘Sure.’ Miriam walked toward the staircase, her expression pensive. ‘Kara, do you know what Baron Henryk does here?’
‘Milady!’ Kara stared at Miriam, her eyes wide. ‘I thought you knew!’
‘Knew? Knew what?’ Miriam shook her head.
Kara scurried closer before whispering loudly. ‘The baron is his majesty’s master of spies! He collects intelligence for the Crown, from countries far and wide, even from across the
eastern ocean! I thought you knew . . .’
Miriam stopped dead, halfway down the first flight of stairs.
I just barged in on the Director of Central Intelligence
, she thought sickly.
And he told me I’m under house
arrest
. Then: ‘Hang on, you mean he’s the
king’s
spymaster? Not the Clan’s?’
‘Well, yes! He’s a sworn baron, milady, sworn to his majesty, or hadn’t you noticed?’ Kara’s attempt at sarcasm fell flat, undermined by her frightened expression.
‘We’re all his majesty’s loyal subjects, here, aren’t we?
Aren’t
we?’
TRANSLATED TRANSCRIPT BEGINS
(
Click
.)
‘Ah, your lordship, how good to see you!’
‘On the contrary, the honor is mine, your grace.’ (
Wheezing
.) ‘Here. Walther, a chair for his grace, dammit. And a port for each of us, then make
yourself scarce. Yes, the special reserve. I’m sure you’ve been even busier than I, your grace, this being a tedious little backwater most of the time, but if there’s anything
I can do for you – ’
‘Nonsense, Henryk, you never sleep! The boot is on the other foot and the prisoner shrieking his plea as you heat it. You won’t get me with that nonsense – ah,
thank you, Walther.’
‘That will be all.’
(
Sound of door closing.
)
‘Sky Father’s eye! That’s good stuff. Please tell me it’s not the last bottle?’
‘Indeed not, your grace, and I have it on good authority that there is
at least
a case left in the Thorold Palace cellars.’
(
Pause
.) ‘Six?’ (
Pause
.) ‘Five? Damn your eyes, four and that’s my lowest!’
‘I’ll have them sent over forthwith. Now, what brings you round here in a screaming hurry, nephew, when I’m sure there are plenty of other fires for you to be
pissing on? Would I be right in thinking it’s something to do with woman trouble? And if so, which one?’
(
Clink of glassware
.)
‘You know perfectly well
which one
could get me out of the office, pills or no pills. It’s the old bitches, Henryk, they are meddling in that of which they
know not, and they are going to blow the entire powder keg sky-high if I don’t find a way to stop them. And I can’t just bang them up in a garret like the young pullet –
’
‘The shrew?’
‘She’s not a shrew, she’s just overenthusiastic. A New Woman. They’ve got lots of them on the other side, I hear. But the old one, her manners may be
good but her poison is of a fine vintage and she is getting much too close to our corporate insurance policy. Even if she doesn’t know it yet.’
‘Your sister – ’
‘Crone’s pawn, uncle, Crone’s pawn. Do you think it was coincidence that it was Helge who came calling on you, and not Patricia? Patricia is in a cleft stick
and dares not even hiss or rattle her tail, lest the old bitches lop it off. If we could move her back to the other side things would be different, but it’s all I can do to keep the
situation over there from coming apart on us completely – we’ve lost more couriers in the past month than in the preceding decade, and if I can’t stop the leakage I fear we
will have to shut the network down completely. Sending Patricia back simply isn’t an option, and now that she’s here she’s less effective than we expected. It’s that
blasted wasting disease. The old bitches and their quackery have her mewed up like a kitten in a sack. Meanwhile, Helge isn’t much use to us here, either. I’ve sent her Lady B to
take her in hand, which might begin to repair the damage to her high esteem among her relatives, in a year or three – or at least stop her from dancing blind in the minefield – but
you can see how isolated she is. A real disappointment. I had such high hopes that those two might tackle the bitches, but the cultural barrier is just too high.’
‘Come now, Angbard, there’s no need to be so pessimistic! The best-laid plans, et cetera. So what do you think the old she-devil is up to?’
‘Well, I can’t be certain, but she’s certainly done
something
to shut Patricia up. And I find it somewhat fascinating to see Helge outmaneuvered so
thoroughly without even knowing who she’s up against.’
‘Do you think Patricia hasn’t told her?’
‘Do I –’ (
Pause
.) ‘Henryk, you sly fellow! And here I was thinking
I
was asking
you
for information!’
‘The rack cares not who sleeps on it, and – ’
‘Indeed, yes, all very well and apposite and all that. Henryk, the old bitches are turbulent and the she-devil-in-chief is plotting something, I feel it in my bowels.
I have more important things to worry about right now
. I do not have time to be looking over my shoulder for daggers. I do not have time to dance the reel to the old bitch’s
hurdy-gurdy, when I can’t sleep at night for fear of conspirators.
What do I need to know?
’
‘I say – steady on, your grace! Here, let me remedy your glass . . . My agents at court opine that the she-devil has carried off a coup. Her stroking of the royal
ego has come to something, it seems, and sparked a passing fancy with the revenant.’
‘The –
what
? What’s
she
got to do with anything?’
‘The royal succession – Oh dear! Here, use my kerchief.’
(
Bell rings
.)
‘Walther! Walther, I say!’
(
Sound of door opening
.)
‘A towel for his grace! Your grace, if you would care to make use of my wardrobe – ’
‘No need, thank you uncle, I am sure a little wine stain will hurt only my dignity.’
‘Yes, but – ’
(
Sound of door closing
.)
‘That’s better.’
(
Pause
.)
‘The royal succession! Curse me for an imbecile, which one is it, the Pervert or the Idiot? Don’t tell me, it’s the Idiot. More tractable, and the
Pervert’s already promised to the Nordmarkt.’
‘That, and the Pervert’s bad habits are becoming increasingly difficult to cover for. Royal privilege is all very well, but if Egon were anyone other than his
father’s eldest son he’d be learning wisdom from the Tree Father by now. A nastier piece of work hasn’t graced the royal court in my memory. If his father is forced to notice
his habits . . . remember our ruling dynasty’s turbulent origins? Nobody wants to see another civil war, not with Petermann feeling his oats just across our northern border and the
backwoods peers staring daggers at our Clan families’ newly earned wealth. I believe the old bitches think that the Pervert will go too far one of these days, in which case owning the
Idiot would throttle two rabbits with one snare, nailing down Helge and securing the royal bloodline. They’re not stupid, they probably think Helge is smart enough to see the advantages,
to take what’s being offered her, and to play along. One more generation and we –
they
– would be able to splice the monarchy into the Clan for good. Helge’s a
bit old, but it wouldn’t be a first pregnancy – don’t look so shocked, we’ve got her medical records – and she’s in good health. Pray for an accident for the
Pervert, a single pregnancy, and her payoff is, well, you know how they work.’
‘They’re crazy!’
‘What? You think she’d
refuse
?’
‘
Think
? Blue mother, Henryk, did you listen to her
at all
? She is, to all intents and purposes, a modern American woman. They do
not
marry for
duty. It was all I could do to stop her eloping with that waste of money, brains, and time, Roland! The old bitches had better hope they’ve got their claws into her deep, or she will kick
back
so
hard – ’
‘Patricia.’
‘Oh. What? That? Hmm, I suppose you’re right. She’s rather fond of her mother, that’s true. But I’m not sure it’ll be enough to hold her down
in the long run. It raises an interesting question of priorities, doesn’t it?’
‘You mean, the insurance policy versus the throne? Or . . . ?’
‘Yes. I think – hmm. Helge, wearing her Miriam head, would understand the insurance policy. But not the old bitches. Whereas Patricia, for all her modernity and
skeptical ways, probably wouldn’t buy it. She was raised by the she-devil, after all. And, ah, Miriam is very
creatively
unreliable. Yes. What do you think?’
‘You’re hatching one of your plans, your grace, but you forget that I am not a mind reader.’
‘Oh, I apologize. Given: we do not want the old bitches to get their hands on the levers of temporal power, are we agreed? They’ve got too much already. They seem to
have decided – well, it’s a bit early to be sure, but marrying Helge to the Idiot would simultaneously tie her down and put a spoke in the wheel the reformers are trying to spin,
while also tying down Patricia. That debating society . . . Luckily for us, Helge is unreliable in exactly the right sort of way. Right now they’ve tied her up like a turkey and she
hasn’t even realized what’s going on. That’s not very useful to us, is it? I say we should give her enough rope – no reason to tie the noose so tightly she can’t
escape it, what – and then a little push, and see which way she runs. Yes? Do you think that could work?’
‘Angbard – your grace – that verges on criminal irresponsibility! If she
does
hang herself – ’
‘She’ll have only herself to blame. And she’ll not be a dagger for her grandmother to hold to our throat.’
‘She hates her grandmother! With a passion.’
‘I believe you overestimate her vindictiveness; at present it is merely disdain on both sides. The dowager is more than happy to use any weapon that comes to hand without
worrying about hurting its feelings. Helge doesn’t know enough to turn in her hand, yet. Perhaps if Helge has real reason to hate her grandmother . . .’
‘Tell me you wouldn’t harm your own half-sister.’
‘Mm, no. I wouldn’t need to go that far, Henryk. Hildegarde is quite capable of making Helge hate her without any help from me, although admittedly a few choice
whispers might fan the flames of misunderstanding. What I need from
you
, uncle, is nothing more than that you play the bad cop to my good, and perhaps the use of your ears at court.
We’re all loyal subjects of the Crown after all, yes? And it would hardly be in the Crown’s best interests to fall into the hands of the old bitches. Or the Pervert, for that
matter.’
‘I shall pretend I did not hear that last, as a loyal servant of the Crown. Although, come to think of it, perhaps it would be in everyone’s best interests if nobody
looked too hard for plots against Prince Egon, who is clearly loved by all. The resources can be better used looking for real threats, if you follow my drift. What kind of push do you intend to
give Helge?’
(
Glassware on tabletop
.)
‘Oh, a perfectly appropriate one, Henryk! A solution of poetic, even beautiful, proportions suggests itself to me. One that meshes perfectly with Helge’s background
and upbringing, a bait she’ll be unable to resist.’
‘Bait? What kind of bait?’
‘Put your glass down, I don’t want you to lose such a fine vintage.’
(
Pause
.)
‘I’m going to let her discover the insurance policy.’
TRANSCRIPT ENDS