Book 7: Chapter 7 |
“GOOD DAY, MONSIEUR,” said a tall, thin man whose pale face seemed to have a polite smile permanently in place on his lips. He bowed in salutation as he greeted me. “I hope you remember me? We were introduced at His Grace the Duke de Gondy’s ball.”
“Good day, Count,” I replied with a bow. “I remember you very well. May I inquire as to your wife’s health? If memory serves, she fell ill that evening.”
Like so many other women at the ball, the man’s wife had simply fainted at Emile de Marbot’s transformation.
“Oh, thank you kindly,” said Count Armand de Lorraine with the same reserved smile. He and I had indeed exchanged a few words at the ball, and that morning he happened to catch me during an inspection of the fortress’ walls.
“My wife is in excellent health. Or at least, such was the case when I left the capital.”
“I’m very glad to hear it,” I said, before gesturing to indicate that I needed to continue on my way. However, the Count quickly continued:
“Monsieur, I understand you’re very busy, but would you be willing to set aside some time for a very important conversation with me?”
So, I thought: the Duke de Gondy assigned the Count de Lorraine to keep an eye on his son. This reminded me that the Duchess du Bellay had once mentioned this Count as being the Duke’s closest confidant.
Okay then, I thought — let’s hear your side of the story. I wonder, though — does he already know about the Count de Broglie coming to visit me?
Receiving a severed fox tail, especially in a context like the one that Bauffremont was obviously trying to create with his letter — well, it was a mortal insult for a werefox. One, moreover, that could only be rectified with blood.
At the very least, though, I now understood why my mysterious “benefactor” mentioned my rashness (and my resulting early and violent deaths) in previous worlds. Because if that young werefox had been sitting there instead of me when that letter arrived, he would definitely have snapped.
By contrast, I managed to bid the Count de Broglie a tactful goodbye and promised him that I would consider his master’s “recommendations.”
As for the threats and the insults... Well, Bauffremont’s time simply hadn’t come yet. There was little harm in letting him think that he could order me around for the time being.
“A very important conversation for whom?” I asked.
The Count cast a loaded glance around at my companions, then glanced behind himself before asking:
“Might we talk in private?”
I nodded to my people, and they took a few steps back, leaving the Count and I alone.
I took a step closer to the edge of the wall, where we had a view of the entire valley. Below us, like a gigantic anthill, our military camp was a seething mass of activity.
Preparations for the campaign were in their final stages. I was waiting for word from Baron de Bacri any day. We needed to know approximately how many soldiers we’d be able to count on in the coming campaign. After all, we would need to bring provisions for all of them. The mountain men would have supplies for a few days when they arrived, but after that the responsibility for feeding them would naturally devolve on our quartermasters.
For the first few days after we took the fortress, the carts came flooding in, but gradually that flood had dwindled away to a trickle. The locals had made a nice profit on selling their surplus to us. And it wasn’t just money that they took back with them when they left — they were also paid in trophies from the battlefield. Various weapons, clothes, footwear, tools, horses, healing elixirs, little pieces of jewelry, and a whole array of other trinkets that might come in handy for people in their remote settlements.
Armand de Lorraine stopped next to me and laid his thin, bony hands on the stone parapet. An elegant golden ring on his right pinky gleamed in the bright midday sun.
It suddenly called to mind a conversation I once had with Bertrand. Although more accurately, perhaps, I should call it a lecture. We were discussing an order I had placed with a jeweler/artificer. As a Margrave, I was entitled to my own personal seal. Or rather, two seals. A Great Seal, that would be kept in my home, and a Lesser Seal, which sometimes took the form of a signet ring.
According to Bertrand (and that walking encyclopedia of a man never gave me reason to doubt him), it was traditional for nobles in Vestonia and other countries to wear their signets on either their index fingers or their pinkies.
Like the Count de Lorraine, I had decided that the pinky was the most convenient place to wear my small signet ring. That said, the master artificer I had contracted for the work didn’t manage to get it finished before we left on campaign. So for the time being, I had to limit myself to a simple signature on all my documents.
“You have my full attention,” I said.
“Monsieur,” the Count de Lorraine began. “I’m sure you’ve already deduced the nature of my role with the Marquis de Gondy?”
“As I remember, you’re one of his father’s vassals,” I replied. “And therefore His Grace has asked you to share your wealth of experience with his heir, and keep an eye on him while you do so.”
“You’re absolutely right,” the Count smiled.
Judging by the expression on his face, the role wasn’t to his liking. Well, I thought — let’s throw some more fuel on that particular fire.
“Well, my dear Count,” I shook my head. “Your mission came close to failure yesterday. The Marquis permitted himself to address me in very incautious and inappropriate terms. I don’t care for conflict, myself, but when my hand is forced I’m a man who prefers a radical and decisive solution.”
A shadow crept over the Count’s face. It seemed like he understood me very well.
“All that was merely an irritating, absurd misunderstanding,” said the Count in a slightly irritated tone of voice.
Apparently, he wasn’t used to hearing people talk about the son of his almighty suzerain in such a tone. After all, the ruler of southern Vestonia’s heir, a close relative of the King himself, was decidedly not someone people normally trifled with.
But that’s just too bad, I concluded. Time to get used to some new realities. Especially since you’re the ones who need me right now, not vice-versa.
“I very much hope that it will be the last such misunderstanding,” I said.
“Alas, I can’t promise you that,” the Count continued, more coldly this time.
“Well, at the very least, you’ll be well aware of the consequences now,” I shrugged.
“You’re not afraid of those consequences yourself?” The Count’s eyes flashed dangerously.
“We’re at war here, Count,” I chuckled, maintaining firm eye contact with him the whole time. “Death might come for any one of us at any time. And the sooner the Marquis comes to understand this, the better. For that reason, in fact, it would be best for you and him both to turn around and go home. I’m certain that His Grace the Duke de Gondy will find the words to explain to the Prince why the Marquis has failed to carry out His Majesty’ orders.”
I was trying to throw the Count off balance. I wanted to see what exactly would make him lose his cool.
But I have to give credit where credit’s due: the Count stayed completely unruffled through it all, at least on the outside. Apparently, the Duke de Gondy had known exactly who to send along as a babysitter for his son.
Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed that the Count closed his eyes for a moment; he was obviously trying to calm himself down. No — there wasn’t going to be an explosion. The Count de Lorraine knew full well that without me, his young charge would end up making a total mess of things and disgracing himself entirely.
“Alas, neither I nor the Marquis can return home without having carried out His Majesty’s orders,” he said in an even tone of voice. “I know you understand this yourself.”
“Well,” I said. “In that case, I wish you luck. You’re going to need it.”
With that, I started to turn around and leave, but the Count stopped me.
“You asked whom this conversation is important for?” He said. “More than anything, of course, it’s important for my suzerain’s son. But it’s important for you as well. After all, our negotiations might result in you acquiring a powerful protector and influential patron in the person of His Grace the Duke de Gondy.”
“Negotiations?” I repeated.
“Precisely,” he nodded.
“You’ve been authorized to conduct negotiations on behalf of the Duke de Gondy?” I asked.
“Only in emergencies, such as this one,” he replied, before adding: “I see skepticism and doubt in your eyes. I understand, of course... You’re no doubt thinking about what guarantee we can give you. Whether His Grace will hold up his end of the bargain. I give you my word as a nobleman.”
The Count de Lorraine said this with a rock-solid tone of voice, looking me straight in the eyes. It seemed that he believed what he was saying to his very core. The problem was that despite all this melodrama, the Duke de Gondy might simply turn around at any moment and declare that the Count had exceeded his authority and promised me the world on a silver platter.
I didn’t give voice to these doubts, though. They would be insulting to the Count, so all I’d achieve would be to add yet another enemy to the pile. I decided to let him say whatever he wanted. After all, the decision about whether to believe him or not was up to me.
“Let’s just say you’ve piqued my interest, my dear Count,” I said. “Please, continue.”
“I know that you’ve already met with de Broglie,” he began, demonstrating that he was certainly well-informed about what went on in the camp. “And I already have a good guess about what he might have said and proposed.”
“Do you have a special gift — the ability to hear through walls?”
“Alas, perhaps it’s a good thing that I don’t,” he chuckled. “But I know the Count very well, and I also know the man he serves. Which is what makes me certain that the Count was trying to persuade you to set off on campaign against the Golden Lion as quickly as possible, and to prevent the Marquis de Gondy’s achieving any sort of prominence in the process. Have I missed anything?”
“No, you haven’t. That’s exactly what he said.” I answered with total honesty, which seemed to surprise the Count immensely.
But it also seemed to worry him. Apparently, the Count de Lorraine was expecting me to evade, to lie, or maybe to refuse to answer his questions altogether.
Recovering quickly from his surprise, however, the Count continued with a smile:
“I like your approach, Monsieur. So I’ll be equally frank with you as well. First, though, I have to ask you a question. Do you intend to yield to the Count de Broglie’s persuasion concerning the Marquis de Gondy?”
I just shrugged and nodded down at the camp below us:
“I’ll answer your question with one of my own. Are you really sure that your master’s son is capable of leading this force? Does the Marquis de Gondy possess the capacity for strategic thinking and the other qualities of a leader? Does he have the necessary intuition? Will he be able to boost his men’s morale at critical moments? Does he have the money to pay his legionaries? How is he intending to handle the matter of feeding these soldiers, and providing this force with warm clothing? I have hundreds of questions in this vein, my dear Count. Can you honestly answer any of them in the affirmative?”
With every question, the Count’s face grew darker and darker. He could practically see my price growing in his mind as I spoke. Basically, he had two options left to him: he could either promise me the world on a silver platter, which (as he knew) the Duke de Gondy could simply refuse to give me later on, or he could offer me something real and concrete.
“No, I can’t,” he said, before turning to look me squarely in the eyes. “The Marquis de Gondy lacks the necessary experience, even though he’s several years older than you. I’ll tell you something else, though: this is a task that would baffle even an experienced commander. I still don’t understand how you’ve managed to keep this rag-tag army in line, let alone make it function as a single organism and — most importantly — lead it from victory to victory. I’m genuinely in awe of your talents as a commander. During the time since our arrival, I’ve realized that we were seriously mistaken about the true nature of the situation. The only justification for our error is the fact that we were led to these mistakes by the vassals of the Viscount de Leval.”
I made it look as though his flattery was working. It was time to give him a little confidence boost.
“I thank you, my dear Count, for such high praise of my actions.”
“It’s no more than the truth, Monsieur,” he shrugged. “For the same reason, it would be unfair to the son of my suzerain if I failed to mention the qualities he does possess. He’s brave and decisive. He’s an excellent rider, trained in the use of lance and spear. And he longs for glory on the field of battle!”
My silence spurred him to continue.
“Neither the Marquis, nor those of us who accompany him, can return to the Prince’s army without having complied with his orders. We would be branded cowards and disgrace our names forever. We have only one way out of the developing situation... If you change your plans, please allow us to accompany you in the campaign against the Golden Lion, so that the Marquis might have the opportunity to prove himself in the field.”
“And you guarantee that the Marquis will submit to my orders if I choose to do so?” I asked with skepticism in my voice.
“Yes.” The Count answered with total firmness in his voice and a fire in his eyes.
I rubbed my chin, trying to look thoughtful. Even before my conversation with the Count, I knew very well that several dozen heavily-armed cavalrymen couldn’t hurt our chances. Together with de Châtillon’s force, they might make a serious contribution in any battle. Especially if I ended up handing to smash a defensive formation in a single, heavy, sudden attack.
“Perhaps,” I said pensively; again, my silence after that gave the Count an opportunity to continue.
He seized it immediately.
“I understand that your meeting with the Marquis yesterday did not go at all as it should have. But I’m confident that any misunderstanding can be settled amicably. Hostility between us isn’t in either of our interests. Believe me, the Duke de Gondy is someone you want as a friend, not an enemy. Especially since he’s going to be Prince Philippe’s father in law soon, and given the news about His Majesty’s health, it may not be long before the Prince ascends the throne of Vestonia.”
A shadow passed over the Count’s face at the mention of Carl III. I knew why. Unlike Bauffremont, the Duke de Gondy did not stand to benefit at all if the King should die in the near future. Or at least if that happened before his daughter could marry the Prince. Because if that happened, the spineless Prince Philippe would undoubtedly yield to his beloved uncle’s influence and cancel the planned marriage.
I had no doubt whatsoever that Bauffremont would do exactly that. Even considering the fact that such a cancellation would lead to unrest in the Kingdom immediately. That wouldn’t stop Bauffremont. He would never share power with de Gondy.
Meanwhile, the Count continued:
“The territories you happen to be campaigning in are wild, and that’s putting it mildly. Many people considered the honor His Majesty bestowed on you to be more of a punishment than a reward. But after what I’ve seen and heard here, especially on our route to this valley, it’s become clear to me just how wise our King truly is. He gave Shadow Pass to the only person who could possibly subjugate it.”
The Count stopped for a second; then he lowered his voice and continued:
“Nevertheless, I know you still face a great many difficulties. Your new lands were in the hands of those fanatics for a long time, and they’ve no doubt been desolated — not that there were many people in them even before the war. I imagine that many of your people will want to settle in these new lands. To keep them all fed while you’re getting started, you’re going to need a lot of provisions. Who, if not the ruler of the southern provinces, can guarantee you this precious resource?”
The Count de Lorraine uttered that last sentence with a meaningful smile on his face...
As I walked down from the fortress wall, I thought about what the Count had said. Basically, the representatives of both Dukes had behaved more or less as I expected them to.
I knew that Bauffremont would pressure me and remind me about his patronage, while de Gondy would try to persuade me and offer me all sorts of goodies. And of course neither of them would miss any convenient opportunity to renege on their promises to me, although if I proved disobedient they would never forget their obligation to punish me.
Now, I thought, it just remains for me to think carefully about how to extract the maximum possible advantage from the developing situation. On the other hand, they won’t stop with me — that much was certain. I’d bet my arm on it: within the next few days, the Counts de Broglie and de Lorraine will be sending very generous offers to all my top subordinates as well. Heh... I was actually curious: which of my comrades would be the first to succumb to temptation?
I was distracted by a light breeze that almost blew the tri-cornered hat off my head. I looked up and noticed Vaira’s head poking over the eave of one of the houses, right next to the chimney.
The next little breeze that brushed against my ears brought her quiet voice along with it:
“Meet me at the lake... I think I found her...”