Ambition and Alavidha (9 page)

“I take it that
this isn’t a pleasure trip?”

Chad said
nothing.

Nonder Walmson
was not surprised. Only a foolish thief would tell another the
object of his intentions.

“I suppose you
could go on one of these new-fangled pleasure caravans. Believe it
or not, but people pay good coin to get bumped along, they call it
a holiday! I ask you? For me a holiday is a comfortable seat in
front of the fire with good wine my companion. Would cost you about
twenty-five gold crowns, but travellers are watched. Bunches of
ne’er do wells, sons mostly of rich folk off on a ‘great adventure’
into the Rtathlians. They’re watched ‘cos there’s been some trouble
in the past.”

“No. That is
not an option.”

“Thought as
much. It’ll have to be one of the trade caravans then. Drellor’s
the best. If there is such a thing as an honest merchant it’s
Drellor. He’s trusted. Makes two trips a year, beginning and end of
summer. Then there’s Trendor, but he’s a mite unreliable. Likes his
drink does Trendor.”

Drunk men, in
Chad’s experience were virtually incapable of keeping their mouths
shut.

“Drellor,” he
told Nonder, “he sounds about right. How do I go about getting a
place in his next caravan?”

“Drellor
charges an arm and a leg and is real careful about who he accepts.
He says he’s got a reputation to maintain but he pays well for
honest and reliable guards, no skimping. Bandits don’t attack
Drellor. As I say, he charges a lot of coin but you’ll get there
and back with your coin intact. Many feel that’s a fair bargain.
Don’t know if he’s got any room left for his next trip though. Last
I heard there was a waiting list of applicants. What are your trade
goods?”

“I hadn’t quite
worked that one out yet,” Chad admitted.

“Drellor won’t
take along any duplicated goods,” Nonder warned, “says it helps
keep disharmony at bay, his word, not mine and he won’t budge on
that no matter how much coin he’s offered. He doesn’t take bribes
either. I’d suggest something like jewels or the like, not heavy
you see and you wouldn’t require a wagon, just a pack-horse.
Drellor provides tented accommodation. It’s part of the
service.”

“I need a place
on that caravan Nonder. How much to arrange?”

Nonder named a
sum and Chad winced.

“I don’t have
that much on me,” he temporised.

“My fee and
Drellor’s fee. That’s what it costs. Your trade goods you purchase
yourself.”

“If it’s
jewellery the merchandise will be expensive and I won’t be able to
afford that and the fees.”

“Steal it.”

“Not this time
my friend. This time, much as it gnaws at my insides I think I’ll
have to buy the goods. Don’t want the law-enforcers dogging my
every step.”

He stood up,
“no, it’s too much, I’ll find another way.”

“Oh, don’t be
so hasty Chad. We might be able to come to an alternative
arrangement to our mutual satisfaction and you need me if you
really intend to reach Gtratha unsuspicious like.”

He looked at
Chad.

“How much you
being paid for the job?”

“Enough,”
growled Chad who most definitely did not want to disclose the
amount to Nonder, thinking, quite rightly, that his fee would rise
correspondingly.

“Is it theft or
delivery?” asked Nonder in an interested voice.

“Theft,”
admitted Chad with reluctance.

“How much?”
Nonder pressed.

“Two hundred
crowns,” lied Chad.

Nonder nodded
and at least gave the appearance of believing him although Chad
well knew the old rogue was probably doubling it in his mind.

Nonder also
knew that Chad Smallhide was the best in the business. If he
executed a theft, he would be successful.

“I’ll get you
on the caravan,” he offered, “and buy your trade-goods, I know
where I can get my hands on some good stones and jewellery, for
sixty percent.”

“Thirty,”
countered Chad.

“Fifty,”
countered Nonder in turn.

“Forty.”

“Forty-five,
net of my expenses and let’s shake hands on it,” offered
Nonder.

“Done,” said
Chad, “and remember that it’s me taking the risk.”

“That’s why I’m
not asking for anything up front,” smiled Nonder, “fair’s fair
after all. However, there is one other condition.”

“What’s that?”
asked the wary Chad.

“You’ll be
taking someone along with you, at my expense if you insist, call it
a protection on my investment. My nephew.”

“I work
alone.”

“Not this time
my friend. Zeb goes too.”

“Zeb?” queried
Chad, “don’t think I’ve heard of him.” As a Master Thief, Chad made
it his business to know or know of, every thief ‘on the game’.

“He’s not all
that well known yet,” Nonder replied, “he’s only ten.”

* * * * *

-9-

AL 808

THE ROYAL
PALACE AT FORT - KINGDOM OF MURDOCH

Kellen-Heir
Daniel Ross was grooming his horse Firefly when his friends Malcolm
and Edward walked into the stables. Most men of his rank left this
chore to the stable hands but Daniel liked to care for his own
mount as often as he could.

“Daniel!” the
former greeted him with a cheer, “you’re back!”

Daniel turned
at the voice and his face broke into a smile. Margrave Malcolm
Smith and Kellen Edward Tanon were two good friends. He had rather
wondered if he would see them now that he had returned to
Court.

Malcolm
half-ran at him and the two young men embraced in the way young men
do, in the manner rather embarrassed in case an onlooker might
think the greeting rather silly, but they hadn’t seen each other
for a long time. Daniel was being kept very busy by his father who
believed that too much free time was not good for a young man. They
broke apart. Edward, the more reserved of the three contented
himself with a joyful clap on Daniel’s back.

Firefly nudged
Daniel’s shoulder and dutifully, Daniel began his curry-combing
again.

“We got in late
last night,” he informed his friends.

“You might have
looked us up,” chided Malcolm.

“It was late,”
Daniel reminded them.

“Not too late
for us,” boasted Malcolm with a significant look at Edward. Both
Malcolm and Edward laughed.

“I suppose you
were out at the borders with Baron Karovitz again,” said Edward,
“it’s a long way and you were too tired to come looking for
us.”

“Right on both
counts,” agreed Daniel, continuing to brush. Firefly leant into
him, whuffling his joy at the nice feelings the brushing was
producing. Daniel hadn’t been at the borders this time but he
didn’t think the location of his last journey was any of his
friend’s business.

“I wish your
father didn’t keep you so busy,” complained Malcolm, quite as if
keeping busy was a bad thing. “I suppose that’s the trouble when
one’s father works for the Queen.”

Daniel made no
comment. “So what have you two been up to?” he asked.

“This and that,
here and there,” answered Malcolm, “but you’re here now. Why don’t
we ask Crispin if Daniel can get an invite for tonight Edward? I’m
sure he’ll say yes.”

“Prince
Crispin?” queried Daniel.

“The very
same,” answered the exuberant Malcolm, “he’s holding another of his
evenings.”

“What sort of
evening?” asked Daniel, his eyes on Firefly’s neck.

“Just the
usual,” grinned Malcolm, “wine, women and song and all that. His
evenings are
always
fun.”

“Doesn’t sound
much like my sort of party,” temporised Daniel but he found himself
wondering if he might enjoy it, even a little. Daniel had had
little use to date for courtesans but the wine and song sounded
okay.

“I can’t
persuade you to come with me to the Duke of Hallam’s town house
instead?” he asked. “The Duke isn’t here, he’s recovering from an
accident I believe but Duchess Elizabeth is here and she’s invited
me to a soiree.”

But this
alternative, Daniel soon realised, held little appeal for Malcolm
and Edward. An evening making polite and decorous conversation
would be boring for the two, especially when they compared it to
the enticing pleasures of a raucous evening with the prince.

“Definitely
not,” said Malcolm, “but I’ll ask Prince Crispin anyway. You might
change your mind.”

“I’ve already
accepted Duchess Elizabeth’s kind invitation,” Daniel answered,
“maybe next time.”

* * * * *

The
twenty-eight year old Prince Crispin, husband to the Kingdom of
Murdoch’s heir presumptive, Crown-Princess Antoinette usually held
his gatherings in a previously little used tower room in the Old
Palace. He liked it because it was situated a considerable distance
away from the staid and to his mind boring, rooms and apartments in
the New Palace where his mother-in-law, Queen Antoinette lived and
held her court.

Crispin was a
handsome man, with even features and carefully tended blonde hair.
His figure too was good; perfectly proportioned; a fencer’s body.
Only if you looked close at his face did you see the signs of
discontent; the downturned edges of his mouth and the lack of real
laughter lines round his eyes.

He was however
great fun to party with and in recent months a number of noble
scions had gravitated to him, in search of entertainment in order
to fill the candlemarks of their days and of their on the whole,
empty lives.

Not every
father behaved like Daniel’s father. Most did
not
make sure
that their sons were gainfully employed on the Queen’s business or
kept busy running their estates, however small.

The ‘coterie’
that gathered in the tower room that evening was made up of these
unemployed and bored young men

The prince was
not best pleased when Malcolm told him that he had failed to
persuade Daniel to attend.

He had his own
reasons for wanting Daniel to join his group. Daniel’s father
Kellen Philip Ross had an important position on the Lord Prince
Marshall’s staff and Crispin believed Daniel would be a ‘useful’
person to have in his circle. If he could captivate Daniel as he
had the others there would be no knowing how much information he
might be able to pick up.

“He has a prior
engagement,” Malcolm Smith apologised. Everyone who wanted to keep
on Crispin’s good side apologised, even if the reason for the
apology wasn’t their fault, “but,” he continued, lying smoothly,
because he
did
want to keep Prince Crispin’s friendship,
“I’m sure I’ll be able to persuade him to come next time.”

“Do that,”
commanded Prince Crispin, hiding his disappointment and changing
his frown of displeasure into a smile that could have lit up an
entire mountain. “I’d really like him to join us Malcolm. He works
too hard and he’s far too young not to have some fun in his
life.”

“All work and
no play makes Daniel a dull boy?” a relieved Malcolm forced the
joke from his lips. It wasn’t very funny but Crispin laughed.
Malcolm wasn’t experienced enough to realise that the laugh was
feigned.

“Precisely.
Invite him to join the next hunting trip I’ve planned for next
tenday. Now go get yourself a drink and start enjoying
yourself.”

The party
progressed much as Crispin had planned after his conversation with
Count Malcolm.

The servants
were dismissed, they all proceeded to imbue a great amount of
alcohol, started singing songs and began to make use of the young
courtesans Crispin had provided.

Crispin didn’t
drink that much; he never did; the singing and the carousing stayed
the same though.

Crispin refused
to let his inner disappointment at Malcolm’s failure with Daniel to
show.

Most of the
young men getting progressively drunk in the tower room were young
men of lower noble rank, Kellens and Thanes and the like with the
occasional Baron or Baron-Heir thrown in. Most of their fathers had
little influence or power. True, there was Margrave Malcolm Smith
who was a member of the Smith Ducal House but he came from one of
the cadet branches and was empty-headed to boot. The Stewart boys,
the two youngest were rather similar to Malcolm in brains and
character. The eldest Kenneth, well, Crispin wasn’t a hundred per
cent sure of his loyalty. He appeared sound enough, he said the
right things but the ‘well’ bit worried Crispin.

He sipped at
his wine. Despite his misgivings. His plans were progressing along
nicely. His father would be pleased.

* * * * *

Daniel spent
his evening in the town-house of Paul, Duke of Hallam. Duchess
Elizabeth was a fine hostess and of more importance to Daniel, her
unconventional youngest daughter was present.

Why Daniel was
attracted to Contessa Jill Hallam he didn’t quite know. He did
realise however that his interest in her would in all likelihood
come to nothing. He would become a Kellen when his father died,
true, but she was the daughter of a Duke of the Realm.

There was a
slim chance. Jill’s father was one of the few senior nobles in the
kingdom who respected a son or a daughter’s wish before he would
start arranging a marriage match.

So it was with
a pang of misgiving that Daniel noticed that his cousin Philip
appeared to be paying a great deal of attention to Jill’s older
sister Judith. Even Duke Paul Hallam could not be expected to
permit both of his younger daughters to marry into the same
dynastical baronage.

Despite this,
Daniel spent an enjoyable few candlemarks in Jill Hallam’s company.
One never knew what life had in store for you and there
was
always hope.