Chapter 79: Empress' brutal opinion (2)

“Maybe, I don't know. If that was the plan then it might have worked but that would only be the first part of the play. We don't know what the plan was so we must assume the worst.”

The Secretary came back in with a new arm-load of paperwork. Lady Yennefer slipped in behind him and went to stand in the back of the room next to the White Wolf.

“What do you suggest we do then Lord Voorhis?”

“Close the port, declare martial law, impose a curfew and anyone who tries to leave the town should be searched and stopped.”

“That would require usurping Toussaint's autonomy.”

“Yes it would.”

“The Duchess won't like that.”

“You're assuming that the Duchess isn't involved.”

I found that I was hyperventilating and forced myself to take a couple of deep breaths. “Your Majesty, if I may?”

“Yes, what is it Lord Frederick?”

“I agree with Lord Voorhis Majesty. You have to assume that you are under attack but full on martial law, curfews and closed borders has the potential to cause panic. Not least of which to whoever has taken our sister.”

My voice broke on this last part. But I swallowed and tried again.

“Instead of being overt, why not a message to your customs inspectors that they need to search everything in question. Everyone who's anyone wants to be here. Merchants, nobles, common-folk of every stripe. They're all here and none of them are going to want to leave unless they have sinister motivations. So a quiet watch on the roads in and out of the city will reap some benefits.”

Another thought occurred.

“Does the Duchess know what has happened?”

“She does,” Lord Voorhis answered.

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“Then would she be agreeable to the prospect of helping us?”

“What do you have in mind?”

“Well, propose a game. Suggest that Francesca has offered an entertainment. That she has been “kidnapped” and that the “kidnappers” need to be apprehended. The person who finds her first will be declared the winner and will win, I don't know....”

I waved my hand in the air, searching for some kind of fancy sounding title.

“Her majesties permission to court the lady Francesca.” Said Lord Voorhis with a smile. “That might work. It would certainly give the errant knights something to do in the meantime. But it's not as certain.”

He turned back to the Empress.

The Empress nodded, “Then we'll do that. In the meantime we need to investigate who would want to harm Francesca for her own sake and who would do it to harm me.

“What can we do?” Sam stomped over. “All due respect to everything else and I can well imagine that many people will find it fun to hunt our sister across the duchy but at the same time, I don't want to be stuck in the palace while my sister might be in danger.”

“Your absence from the parties would be conspicuous Lord Kalayn.” Voorhis put just the slightest emphasis on the word “Lord”.

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“So we don't want to do anything that might give the game away to Francesca's captors.”

Sam stared at Voorhis with his mouth hanging open. “This isn't a game, this is my sister's life.”

“And we will find her Lord Kalayn, you have our word on that.”

“Your word? Your word means fuck all to me right now. You lost her once when she was under your protection.”

“That's enough, Lord Kalayn,” The Empress snapped. That she did so without looking up from the piece of paper that she was in the process of signing was not lost on me. She set the piece of paper aside and looked up and skewered him with an icy stare. I've not actually taken the time to look up how old the Empress is but in that moment she was terrifyingly regal. Sat in her literal shirt sleeves, she faced him down. “Do not make the mistake of thinking that you are the only person that likes or loves your sister in this room Lord Kalayn. Your sister will be found but you must also remember that the fault is with the people who took her. Direct your anger at them if you will. Their lives are already forfeit and if you really want to go all in then you can even swing the blade if you wish. But for now you will sit down and you will be silent.”

The Empress doesn't speak with any particular volume but you can't help but hear every single word that she says. I caught myself wondering if it was some kind of special technique that she had been trained in at some point.

“What else needs to happen?” she turned back to Voorhis.

“Send gallopers to the Third and ninth Light divisions and tell them to start conducting maneouvers.”

The Empress nodded at her secretary who was making notes. “So ordered.”

“Minimise your attendence at the balls tonight, cursory visits only under the pretence that you have better things to do.”

“Which is true,” I distinctly heard the Empress mutter.

“Summon the Ambassador from Kovir and the Ambassador from Zerrikania and invite them to help you inspect the Imperial guard parade. Let them know that we're not fucking about if this is them playing everybody for fools.”

The Empress nodded at her Secretary again. “So ordered.”

“I will work my sources and see if anything else comes up. In the mean time, stick to the “hunt,” story in all things.”

The Empress nodded again. “I want a report in an hour,”

“Yes Imperial Majesty. Thank you Your Majesty.”

He marched out. The Empress signed the next piece of paper and handed it to her secretary. “Just three spelling mistakes this time. Mostly in our favour though.”

“Not all of our scribes had the benefit of your education Your Majesty,” he commented. “There are many more treaties to be signed however.”

The Empress sighed. “I know. Bear with me though.” She took hold of his sleeve to keep him still and raised her voice to the other servants in the room. “Leave us,” she said.

“But majesty the gowns...”

“Will wait.” That note of command again.

“Yes, Imperial Majesty.”

The servants filed out. The Empress sat back in the chair again for a moment and rubbed at her eyes.

“Empress for two hours and I'm already tired.” She said, almost to herself before pushing herself to her feet. “Father?”

The White Wolf stepped forward from the wall. “What is it Ciri?”

“I have a contract for you.”

Geralt, the White Wolf of Rivia raised a solitary eyebrow. “Oh?”

“Yes. I want you to find my friend please. People will make jokes that you want to marry her or something but I don't care. Find her for me would you? I'll pay you a decent rate.”

“No,” Geralt had opened his mouth to speak but it wasn't his voice.

Kerrass had stepped forward from his position next to the door.

“In all other matters, Majesty, I would bow before Cousin Geralt and his experience. He is the greater in swordplay, signs and just about every other aspect of the Witcher's craft but this one. I know this family and they know me and that might be significant here. Also, I owe them. More than they can know.”

He moved until he stood in front of the Empress and locked his eyes to hers.

“This hunt is mine,” he said.

The Empress looked past him to where Geralt still stood, Kerrass turned and stared at that most famous of Witchers. It was a long moment and I didn't really know what was happening. In the end though Geralt bowed and moved back to his place by the wall.

“Very well then,” The Empress said. “It seems I don't even get to make that decision.” She said it with a smile though and even I, who can't really claim to know the Empress could see the marks of strain in the corners of her eyes.

“I want Freddie to come with me.” Kerrass went on, clearly deciding to push his luck. Some people might think that this gives me an unfair advantage in the hunt but... I find him useful and he can report back to his family to keep them calm and keep them informed.”

The Empress nodded. “Done then.”

Mark shook himself and climbed to his feet. He lumbered over to Kerrass, seemed to want to say something but couldn't quite make it, so instead he clapped him on the shoulder before turning and bowing to the Empress and moving towards the door.

Kerrass beckoned to me and I followed him out to the corridor outside.

We just made it to the corridor outside before I couldn't hold it in any more. I staggered against the wall and had to take a little while to concentrate on breathing in and out. My breath kept catching in my throat around the huge lump that had formed there. I felt dizzy and there was grey at the edge of my vision. “Ok Kerrass what the fuck is going on?” I sobbed out.

“I wish I knew Freddie I really do.” He stopped me and put his hand on my shoulder so that he could check my eyes. “Are you alright with this?”

“Yes.”

“Are you sure? I don't want you flying off the handle at any given moment just because we might have found something. The chances are pretty good, given what's going on at the moment, that this is something political and I know the Empress enough now to know that if it came to it then you and I would look awfully disposable.”

“She wouldn't though would she?”

“I am not Geralt, who she calls “father” when she forgets herself. I'm just some Cat Witcher who, if push comes to shove...”

I shook my head again.

“If you're not going to order me to stay behind as in our old deal then I'm coming. I need to know Kerrass. I need to know that this isn't my fault.”

“Why would it be your fault?” Kerrass looked at me strangely.

“Because she wouldn't be here in this position if it wasn't for me. That and, we've made some friends in our travels Kerrass but we've also made a lot of enemies as well.”

“We have, but that's just life on the path. This would take means and money and.... effort. This is to risk the wrath of the Empress herself. I've seen her lose her temper Freddie. It ain't pretty.”

“I'll take your word for it.”

“You'd better. Come on then.”

“Where are we going?”

“Her quarters to start with. See if we can pick up a trail before it goes completely cold.”

Kerrass led me through the labyrinth of corridors so fast that I would quickly have gotten lost without his support. We went down, well beneath the human layer of buildings and into the old elven ruins that the city of Toussaint had been built on. The corridors were still in use, servants and guards were still walking around at a quick rate and several times I had to flatten myself up against a wall to make sure that I wasn't flattened by stampeding people. As best as I could tell we climbed down several flights of stairs before heading along on the same plane of movement before a single flight of stairs brought us up and out into a corridor that I found to be on the northern side of the palace.

“The royal wing,” Kerrass told me, given over to the Empress and her immediate circle of people which in this case means, your sister, her other ladies and a few others. There are rooms here for Lady Yennefer and Lord Geralt as well as Lady Merigold and a few other people that you won't know or have heard of.”

He led me further along the corridor.

“Which one's the Empress' room,”

“The smallest believe it or not. She once told me in passing that she gets nervous when there are large open spaces around her and much prefers smaller rooms where she can watch the windows and the doors equally.”

“What happened to make her like that?”

Kerrass just looked at me for a while. “Many, many things.”

It was clear that I wasn't going to get any further with it than that. He brought us to another room that had two guards outside along with another, younger man that was pacing backwards and forwards in the way that you do when you're waiting for something and have nothing else to do.

“Master Kerrass sir,” he seemed ridiculously young. I would have put him at somewhere between fourteen and fifteen to look at him. Blonde hair and startlingly blue eyes. There was a glimmer of intelligence in those eyes as well as a bit of attitude that suggested that he watched the world with an ironic sense of humour. I decided that we could either be the very best of friends or that we would hate each immediately. He saluted us.

The other two men were as broad as they were tall, solid walls of men wearing enough metal that they might have been sculptures only the occasional rasp of metal on metal betrayed the fact that there were men in there somewhere.

“Sir Thomas. May I present Lord Frederick von Coulthard.”

The young man bowed to me.

“Your servant Lord Coulthard.” He said in a high voice that betrayed his voice not quite having broken yet. “May I take this opportunity to say that I am a fan and to pointedly not get you to sign my copy of your travel journals.” He said to me gravely.

“Thank you Sir Thomas. Maybe later.”

“Being cousin to the Empress sometimes comes with some perks,” the young man said. “I get to meet all kinds of famous people.”

“Do I count as famous people?”

“More famous than some sir?”

“Sir Thomas is here because we were in need of competent officers,” Kerrass said. “Sir Thomas is today's new officer of the watch. After the previous officer managed to lose your sister.”

As a note for those who aren't familiar with military terminology. The officer of the watch is the person that's nominally “in charge” for that area for that period while the other officers or superior officers are sleeping. They are the people that take care of paperwork, order rations, organise shift rotations and check sentries. If a crisis happens then it's the office of the watch that takes charge until more senior men arrive.

“A bit young for the post?” I asked.

“As I say Sir. Being Cousin to the Empress comes with some perks.” He sniffed. “I say perks. Today was my day off and I was looking forward to getting squiffy on Toussaint red.”

“The former officer of the watch is under arrest in case of collusion.” Kerrass told me.

“Is that realistic?” I asked.

“At this point anything is possible. Anything to add Sir Thomas?”

“No sir. Door locked from the outside and I took the liberty of having two of my burliest, angriest and least imaginative men positioned inside in case anyone tries to sneak in from outside sir.”

Kerrass nodded. “Open up then please?”

“Yes sir,” He nodded to the two guards and made a complex hand gesture. They stepped aside before Sir Thomas produced a key and unlocked the room.

“So no-ones been inside since these doors were sealed.”

“No sir,” Thomas answered. “Just me and my men but I had thoughts that if the young lady slipped out herself or if there's a secret passageway or something then others could come back and tamper with evidence?”

“Good thinking,”

“Thank you sir.”

“Who was on duty last night.”

“Four men sir. All cooling their heels in the cells waiting for your pleasure sir.”

“Pleasure. That's an odd word for it. We'll need the duty log.”

“Yes sir, it's under guard at the guard post sir.”

Kerrass nodded.

“We moved into the room. It was bright, opulently furnished and looked as though it had barely been lived in. The bed was made, the furniture was plush and rather garish to my eyes and the only thing that seemed to be in constant use was the wardrobe. There was no fire set in the vast and mostly ornamental fireplace but it looked as though there had been one recently. Kerrass held out an arm to prevent me walking in though. He took a deep breath, sniffing the air.

“Wait here,” he said before moving into the room. He took his medallion off and started moving around with it held in front of him as he sniffed at the air.

Then he closed his eyes and started moving around the room, slowly, nose out in front looking for all the world like one of my father's hunting dogs.

“Does it often look like this?”

Sir Thomas had returned with a couple of leather bound books under his arm.

“Does what, look like what?” I asked faintly, I was too busy concentrating on Kerrass to listen properly.

“His hunting. Does it always look like this?”

“It depends,” I said faintly,

“On what, sir?” The “sir” appellation seemed to have been attached in an effort to placate me or pay me some kind of compliment.

“On what it is he's hunting.” The lad was fair vibrating with energy. “Can I help you Sir Thomas?” I attempted in an effort to get him to sod off.

“Well sir, since you mention it. Those chronicles I mentioned.”

He held one of those books out.

“I don't have a quill.”

“Funny you should mention that sir,” He held out a small ink pot and had produced a small quill from somewhere.

I sighed and signed the book.

“Grateful to you sir,” he said putting it back under his arm.

I watched Kerrass work for a bit. He had made his way over to the dressing table and was looking through all of the potions and perfumes that make up the essential tools of being a woman in the modern world.

“What brought you into service?” I asked, the silence suddenly felt oppressive and I had the need to fill it.

“Into the guard sir? Family tradition. Squired to my uncle when I was twelve and worked my way up. Youngest knight in the guard sir.”

“Is that a good thing?”

“Sometimes it is. I sometimes wonder if I was knighted so young because the guard needed a mascot of some kind.”

“Did they?”

“Depends who you ask sir. In my more charitable moments I've begun to believe that there are new and younger people being brought into the guard so that the Empress can change the nature of the guard as she sees fit without having to fight all the dreadful old men telling her that it wasn't done like that in their day,”

He did an astonishingly accurate impression of a querulous and obstinate old man's voice. I glanced up at one of the even more gigantic armoured me who were stood just inside the door of the room. Unlike the shield and sword that the outer guards were armed with this man carried the largest battleaxe that I had ever seen. Large and with the looks of him I reckoned that he could handle it easily. The guard didn't even twitch.

“He's selling himself short,” Kerrass' voice intruded. “Young master Thomas here is considered one of the finest military minds of his generation. One of the first graduates of the Imperial war college which he passed well enough that they had to rewrite the exams for him.”

I looked down at the young man who had the grace to be blushing. I looked back up at Kerrass.

“There's an Imperial war college?” I asked.

“Oh yes. They study old battles and old campaigns to see what they could learn from them. Successful and failed campaigns. Apparently it's only open to the best of the best.”

“Which in reality means those of us who come from the right bloodlines,” Sir Thomas commented scornfully. “It has to be said that I learned more from a month on campaign with a decent Sergeant than I learnt at all in the college.”

“Often the way,” I commented. I felt trapped in this simple little conversation. Right then and there the fact that I was talking with a young man about his education and signing books seemed ridiculous when what I wanted to be doing was tearing the place apart and finding my sister. It felt a lot like a pressure on my skull, as though I was hemmed in, that the walls were closing in. I had to concentrate. “Did you find anything?” I asked Kerrass.

“Yes and unfortunately it's utterly useless.”

I stepped forward into the room. “What do you mean?”

“Well, there's no doubt that this is your sisters room. Her scent is everywhere but it's masked and obscured by the perfume that she uses.” He indicated the dressing table.

I spent a bit of time trying to shake the cotton wool out of my brain. It didn't work.

“Ok then,” I walked over to the window and opened it to look out. There weren't any obvious hand-holds that I could see. There were some ivy strands above and to one side of the window but you would need to be a braver person than me to use them to climb in. Plus the window would have been smashed if someone jumped in. Or the window would have to be open.

“Was the window closed when you came in to find my sister?”

“I don't know for sure sir. It was certainly closed when I came on duty.”

“Something else to check,” Kerrass commented. He was unstopping the perfumes and having a sniff. I've never been able to distinguish between perfumes before but he claims he can. I had always wondered about that and found it odd. Surely if your nose was more sensitive then it was more likely to get overwhelmed.

After a while he shook his head and put the bottles down.

“Right,” he said abruptly, we're getting ahead of ourselves. Let's try to think logically.” He stomped up to me as he said this and took me by the shoulders before giving me a little shake. “There are two options here. Either she left on her own two feet or she was taken from this place by force. You either walk or are carried out of a room.”

“Yes. Compelling still means that someone has to make a decision to be compelled.”