The Necromancer's Daughter, page 5
part #6 of Queen and Country Series
Johanna wasn’t sure it was so simple. For one, Kylian would come for her and the child; but for the time being, she could do nothing else.
Chapter 5
* * *
JOHANNA RETURNED in the coach to that exact same spot on the quay the next morning for a completely different reason. The harbourmaster had sent word to the palace of King William’s arrival, and this important guest needed special attention. So she had dressed in a formal but not too flamboyant dress, asked Nellie to do her hair, and clambered into the coach. Father sat on the bench opposite her, wearing the formal Carmine family coat that Mistress Dina had made for him. The weather was rather too warm for it, and beads of sweat pearled on his forehead.
Johanna wasn’t feeling the best after her foray the previous night. Her legs were tired, her feet so swollen that they almost wouldn’t fit into her shoes, and the chill of magic that had stabbed through her belly had never completely subsided. She knew that the child had magic, and that almost certainly meant that it was Kylian’s, as she feared—and as, according to Loesie, seemed to have happened to a lot of other girls. What was Kylian’s game?
She sat in the coach entertaining dark thoughts while summer turned out one of the most beautiful days this year.
The sky was brilliant blue and the painted houses made a pretty picture that belied the city’s damaged state.
There were a lot of people on the quay, most of them watching from the deck of ships or from the steps or upstairs windows to offices. The mooring in front of Father’s office, which had been vacant last night, was now taken up by an impressively large ship.
Because they were both seafaring nations competing to discover new lands, Saarland and Anglia had been at war several times. The countries were currently in a period of stalemate in which both did their best to ignore each other. Not openly hostile, not friendly either. It had been a long time since an Anglian ship was sighted in the harbour. In fact, Johanna could only remember one time, when she was very little. That had been a merchant ship nowhere near as impressive as the king’s flagship.
The three-master towered over Saardam’s fleet of river sloops and over the buildings that lined the quay, and most of those were over two floors high.
The ship’s masthead, the Anglian long-horned bull bowing its head, ready to attack, loomed over the stern of King Leopold’s otherwise impressive river sloop. The ship’s name was Targon, after the Anglian capital, painted in silver letters on the bow. The hull was dark, of sleeker design than the Saarlander seafaring ships. It was said that she could outrun most of the pirate ships that inhabited the southern Lamorian Ocean. Most of the many sails hung loose and deck hands were in the masts and webbing to stow them. A line of uniformed soldiers stood on the poop deck overlooking the harbour with stern faces and lances by their sides.
The gangplank was down, and two rows of armed soldiers stood guard on either side. They wore the typical red jackets of the Anglian guard, complete with their distinctive caps with the dangling fox’s tail.
Their trumpets glittered, the sails flapped, the paintwork on the ship’s deck shone with bright colours, and brilliant gold and glittering silver.
Father stared at the ship through the little window in the coach’s door, like a young boy in a lolly shop.
Compared to the ship, her coach was rather plain, as she had thought appropriate for the fact that most of Saardam still suffered deprivation and hardship. Anton and his colleague on the driver’s seat were well-clad and looked dapper, but they weren’t a smidgen on these Anglian guards.
The difference was quite unsettling and made Johanna think that she might have made a mistake. Pomp and ceremony intimidated people. It made people believe that a kingdom, a family, an estate, was the best and richest ever. When people were impressed, they were more likely to accept what a person said. She really should get more flamboyant dresses, pretty up the coach and furnish the palace with the most extravagant decorations, but it didn’t seem fair to her when many people in Saardam barely had roofs over their heads.
Fair: another word that real kings and queens never cared about.
Would she ever get over the feeling that one day, someone would come and say “She’s only a commoner!” and would put her right where she belonged?
The bugles sounded. The coach stopped. Anton jumped off the driver’s seat, walked past the side and opened the door, letting in bright sunlight. Johanna rose, a little awkwardly in that dress.
The herald shouted, “Hail Queen Johanna of Saarland!” People cheered.
He shouted again, “Hail King William of Anglia.”
People cheered again.
Johanna used Anton’s hand to climb down from the coach and waited until Father was down as well. The Saarlander guard had cleared a path from the coach to the ship. Walking between those rows of people on Father’s arm, Johanna felt very small. The weight of a lot of expectations rested on her shoulders.
She and Father waited at the bottom of the gangplank while the visiting party came down in slow steps, a gaggle of ornate hats, rich velvet jackets, shirts with lots of frills, and high-heeled boots. Even though Johanna had never met King William, there was little doubt about which of them was the king.
He was a tall man without being gangly. He had curly ginger-blond hair which he wore in a loose ponytail at the back of his head, a red face and startling blue eyes.
The other companions were all men, and two were guards in uniform. Another one was a scribe of some sort, carrying a leather-bound book and the last one . . . he was of fine build and walked behind the king as a servant, but he wasn’t dressed like one. He had grey eyes and soft flaxen hair which hung loose over his shoulders. He wore a blue hat with a big feather, light blue trousers and a shirt with an excessive display of frills. He carried a watch or compass of some sort on a gold chain, and had lots of rings on his fingers. He was far too old to be the king’s son, and too different in build to be a brother.
King William stepped off the gangplank onto the quay. He looked around with his thumbs hooked in his belt, and said, “Say, where is the king of this godforsaken place?”
Johanna gritted her teeth. “We welcome you to our city, Your Majesty. I am sure nothing here is new to you. I hope your travels have been favourable. I am Queen Johanna—”
“The lass who invited me?”
Several people took in sharp breaths.
Johanna straightened her back. She had been warned about him. “I invited you, yes. And thank you for coming. This here is my advisor, Dirk Brouwer.” She gestured at Father.
King Williams let out a loud laugh that echoed over the water and no doubt could be heard by everyone at the quay. “A merchant? A merchant is the king’s chief adviser?”
He was really starting to annoy her. She corrected, “The queen’s advisor, and yes, a merchant. We want to become the lowland city where everyone comes to trade, sell and buy. We ask the experts.”
Another round of gasps. This remark referred to one of the more recent sea battles between the two countries, involving King William’s father, that Saardam had won because Anglia had taken strategic advice from a noble who had no interest or knowledge in the matter of sea battles.
But King William let out another very loud burst of laughter. “Ha, ha, ha, you have spunk in you. I like that. You’ll get along fine with my court advisor. This is Earl Maximilian Clarendon de Blasisse.”
The little man in the light blue outfit bowed. “It is an honour to finally meet you, milady.” Even his voice was whiny and foppish.
Johanna met Father’s eyes over the earl’s head. What a strange character. “Do accompany us to the palace where your accommodation is ready. We will send our servants to collect your necessities.”
Johanna preceded him to the coach, again traversing the path in between walls of curious onlookers.
Her coach had room for six, but King William was so tall that he took up two seats—after having almost banged his head on the doorframe. Johanna let the king and his companion have the forward-facing seats while she and Father took the rearward-facing ones. The king sat spread out in the middle seat, pushing the little foppish Earl against the side of the coach. The king’s legs were so long that Johanna and Father each had to sit to the side as well, and still his left leg kept brushing her dress, which was distracting. He looked pointedly at her belly, but said nothing about it, which at least was a welcome change from King Leopold, whom she had barely seen but had already managed to inform her, “Your husband should be ashamed that you have to work in this state.”
The coach jumped into motion and the harbour slid from view.
No one spoke inside the cabin.
Johanna felt intensely uncomfortable facing this tall, red-bearded, blue-eyed man who was scrutinising her as if she was the latest curiosity. Who was rumoured to have a bad temper. Who was rumoured to always want to have things his way.
Fortunately, Johanna had business to discuss. She had asked the coach driver to return to the palace via a longer route that took them past the areas that were worst affected by the fires. Most severely burned buildings had been demolished and, with summer in full swing, those houses that were going to be rebuilt this year were progressing at a steady clip, though many building lots still lay empty. In one place a group of carpenters were replacing a bridge that had been burnt beyond safe use. Johanna explained how citizens had rallied together to pay the carpenters and how they were sharing houses so that the houses of everyone could be rebuilt. She explained how the shops and warehouses were surviving and how a fleet of canal boats had sprung up to ferry goods around the city that would otherwise be carried by wagons over the city’s many bridges.
King William snorted. “It irks me how all that hardship is necessary because that old man gave all your money to that silly church. Did you ever find out what he hoped to achieve except a pile of burnt rubble?”
It was a remark as rude as it was apt.
“We can only guess about the king’s motivations. King Nicholaos and Queen Cygna were both killed.”
“Yes, I know. But would it be too hard to find out what the church did with all the money? That’s what worries us from where we’re standing. Because the Carmine family was not poor, and the church could easily have built a pretty stone building with their fortunes. One that didn’t burn down.” He gestured a large, hairy-fingered hand at the window. “They could have repaired all these things with that money. If the Church indeed got all of it and if the Carmine family truly has so little money left.”
Johanna’s cheeks flushed. “I’m sorry, but do you mistrust me?”
He laughed. “You have innocence written all over your face, little queen.”
By the Triune, the rude boor!
He continued, “Let me give you a little hint. Royal families from as old a lineage as the Carmines have hundreds of years of experience in covering their tracks. The money you find in the coffers is rarely all there is. It is rarely even most of what they possess.”
His attitude needled her. He was probably doing this on purpose to see how far he could go. She could dispute him and tell him that they had already looked everywhere and found very little. “Does this mean you want to tell me to look for that money before asking for your investment in our port? You’re wrong about that. I don’t want anyone’s investment to solve our financial problems. As you can see, we’re managing quite well. I want the money to build something we can all be proud of and to ensure lasting peace in this area.”
King William threw his head back and laughed. That loud laugh of his hurt her ears and was getting very irritating, especially in a small space like this. It was as if he treated every question she asked as childish.
Johanna’s anger flared. “If you truly believe that I’m stupid, then I can assure you that the meeting will be very short.” By the Triune, she was trembling and sweating, and hardly dared look aside to see Father’s horrified face, for surely he would be horrified.
King William’s face became serious. “Let me be very serious with you. Your spunk amuses me. You’re a merchant daughter having wedged herself into a fragile royal family who have made a lot of stupid decisions made worse by a run of rotten luck. But don’t, for one moment, believe that you’re ever going to be worth more than that child you’re carrying. We are here because the concept of investment in dedicated quay space and warehouses interests us. For far too long, that harbourmaster with his exorbitant fees has annoyed our captains, not to mention your ridiculous taxes. The proposal that your men have drawn up is worth discussing. That’s why we’re here.”
Johanna stuck her chin in the air. “For your information: I wrote a good deal of that plan. And I prefer if the plan was the main thing we discussed, not my status or my worth. And you’re wrong about my worth, by the way. I will prove it to you.”
He did not laugh anymore. Those steely blue eyes turned cold. “Do you really think you can be a match for a king in one of the oldest royal lineages in the known world?”
“I obviously don’t have your experience . . .” —in being a pompous arse— “. . . but I’ve saved the crown, I’ve led my people into Florisheim, I’ve helped them ward off ghosts, I’ve freed them from magic, I’ve defeated a tyrant, so maybe yes, I can.”
He nodded. “Challenge accepted.”
Johanna returned his gaze, a little seed of triumph growing inside her.
Chapter 6
* * *
FORTUNATELY THE REST of the ride to the palace was short.
The coach stopped at the bottom of the palace steps where a guard of honour waited for the king. They were all dressed in smart Carmine livery. The marble steps they stood on were neatly swept and the entrance to the foyer with its marble columns had been scrubbed clean.
The herald announced the arrival of the king, and the soldiers lifted their trumpets, glittering in the sunlight. The fanfare echoed over the forecourt.
Hang all of King William’s pomp. Those were her men, and they looked good and presented well, and she was proud of them.
A good number of citizens had gathered on the other side of the gilded fence and looked on while the party arrived. Besides their own, there were two other coaches, with the king’s entourage and their luggage.
It struck her that, as ordinary Johanna Brouwer, she would have loved to see this. She would have stopped and watched, and told Father all about the extravagant clothing, and he would have sniffed and said that rich people had no sense of what money was really worth, or some such.
Now, she took Father’s velvet-coated arm and walked up the stairs, chin held high.
A whole bevy of servants waited in the foyer, ready to take the king and his companions to the guest quarters. Apart from the foppish Earl, the king’s entourage had alighted from the second coach and were just coming up the stairs.
As soon as they were in the foyer, Father fled to his study, with the excuse of having work to do, and it was left to Johanna to lead the party to their lodgings.
The guest quarters had gone through a complete cleanup in the last few weeks. The apartment consisted of a large sitting room in which the palace servants had collected a fine selection of furniture, with a bedroom off the main room. There were two large four-poster beds in that room, each with a luxurious bedspread and ornate curtains. Nellie had really worked hard to get the quarters in this state, and Johanna could see the little touches of Nellie’s presence everywhere, from the little posy of dried flowers on the bed, to the way the curtains hung. And to think that Alexandre’s bandits had used it as their camping room, and had even made fires in the corner.
The Earl immediately crossed to the window of the room. “You have a vegetable garden at the palace? My, you do things differently here.” His voice was really annoying and Johanna wasn’t sure whether he was interested or whether he wanted to mock her. “My husband is a keen gardener. I’m told it is a very relaxing pastime. Anyway, make yourself comfortable in this room. The maid will come around when the evening meal is ready.”
And with that, Johanna could finally leave him.
While King William settled in the guest quarters, Johanna quickly ducked into her private sitting room before the evening’s informal meal. Her feet were sore and she needed to lie down for a bit.
Father was also there, reading and writing up the last of his notes.
“That was . . . interesting,” Johanna said.
“He’ll be a difficult character to work with,” Father said without looking up from his work. “He’s not here to negotiate or to be cooperative. He’s trying to provoke us. And succeeding admirably.” He gave her a stern look.
“He was being condescending.”
“Dear daughter, ‘Condescending’ is every king’s middle name. Leave it. Ignore those remarks. He wants to poke you.”
“Into doing what?”
“Getting angry at him so that he can show how much more superior they are in war?”
Because Anglia was superior, there was no question about it. Johanna sighed. “Let’s hope he’ll get along very well with King Leopold. They can both try to bluff each other under the table.”
“Well, actually, it’s King Benito you need to watch, because he seems to think that Lurezia can take on Anglia in the sea trade.”
“Lurezia? They hardly have any ships. Not even half as many as we have.”
“We don’t have that many anymore.”
“That’s because they were all burned. We can still build ships. The Lurezians can’t.”
“I guess then you haven’t heard the rumours that they bought blueprints off Li Han that show how to make the iron ships.”
