‘Exactly. Where a spot of violence was needed, or someone needed to disappear, Kirchoff and his boys were the ones to do it.’ Von Stralick grimaced. ‘I suspect something dire is going to happen here.’
‘When?’
‘Soon, to judge from the way Kirchoff is checking his watch.’
‘He was doing that yesterday.’
‘He is a patient man, from all accounts. Not a lot of imagination, which is a blessing considering some of the things he’s reputed to have done, but patient.’
Aubrey scratched at a patch of dirt on his cheek. ‘Is he disciplined?’
‘He is the model of Holmland military discipline. There are no distasteful orders, as far as Kirchoff is concerned.’
‘So he won’t argue when you and I go down there and tell him to take his troops and leave?’
Von Stralick didn’t reply. For some time, he didn’t even move. He kept the binoculars trained on the spare figure of Colonel Kirchoff, standing with his hands behind his back in the middle of the road, in exactly the same place Aubrey had seen him the previous day.
‘Fitzwilliam, this is a bad plan.’ Von Stralick put down the binoculars. ‘Kirchoff won’t take orders from a traitorous ex-Holmland spy and the traitorous son of the Albion Prime Minister.’
‘True, but will he take orders from Dr Mordecai Tremaine?’
21
Aubrey had left Caroline, George and Sophie with instructions on what to do if his plan failed. They were vague instructions, because he didn’t like to think too much about what a failed plan would mean for him. They mostly suggested asking Madame Zelinka for help in getting away alive.
‘Look, Hugo,’ Aubrey said as their lorry approached the roadblock. Von Stralick battled the large steering wheel as if he were trying to propel an elderly and well-fed aunt around a dance floor. ‘Kirchoff is waiting for someone or something. If Dr Tremaine arrives with orders, I’m sure the good colonel will be receptive.’
Von Stralick spared a glance at Aubrey. ‘You’ve managed to impress me, Fitzwilliam, as well as make me extremely nervous. You look and sound just like him.’
Aubrey hoped so. It was the only way he could see of avoiding a messy end, and while an end came to everyone, he wasn’t happy about the prospect of a messy one.
He had taken on Dr Tremaine’s appearance before, in order to deceive a guardian spell the rogue magician had left on the Banford Park research facility. That spell had only required a physical resemblance, not a vocal one, and still it had strained his abilities. Thus he was grateful to have Sophie’s assistance with the illusion spell. Her natural talent and her recent instruction helped enormously, and he was able to add some solidity to her spellwork in a neat piece of magical collaboration.
‘I won’t speak,’ Aubrey said to von Stralick. ‘Not at first, anyway.’
‘Just like Dr Tremaine.’
‘Exactly. I can’t just look and sound like him – I must act like him.’
Which means swagger, he thought, and arrogance, and absolute certainty about everything.
This was the challenge, of course. Appearance was one thing, but behaving like the rogue sorcerer, the man who moved whole countries about to achieve his ends, that was another.
He wiped his sweaty palms on trousers that were now black and immaculately pressed and then stared at the glistening perspiration that immediately sprang back. Impossible. Dr Tremaine didn’t sweat nervously.
He spoke a few soft words and his hands were encased in gloves that were, to all appearances, soft and expensive black leather. He pushed his cape back on his shoulders and settled, just as von Stralick brought the lorry to a halt.
Colonel Kirchoff signalled to the machine gun emplacement. He was taller than Aubrey had realised, a thin man with a gaunt, almost mournful, face. He had his hand on the pistol at his belt as he approached.
‘Turn around,’ he said when he reached von Stralick’s window, unimpressed by von Stralick’s grubby jacket and cap. ‘Go back. This is a military -’
He broke off. His eyebrows shot up. He snapped to attention and saluted. ‘Dr Tremaine, sir!’
Aubrey glanced at Kirchoff, then looked away.
Von Stralick leaned out of the window. ‘Everything is in place?’ he asked in Albionish.
Kirchoff dropped his salute, and looked puzzled. ‘Of course, as you see,’ he replied in the same language.
‘Excellent.’
Without moving his head, Aubrey could just see Kirchoff leaning to one side to peer into the cabin of the lorry. Was the man suspicious? The yawning gulf of nervousness behind Aubrey’s rib cage widened and threatened to swallow a few more major organs.
‘Dr Tremaine, sir,’ Kirchoff said, ‘are you here to give us the orders to carry out the next phase of our assignment?’
Von Stralick cut in, every inch the officious assistant: ‘Are you sure you have fully completed the first phase?’
Kirchoff gave von Stralick a look that suggested there was no difference between the ex-spy and a bucket of rotten fish. ‘Of course. The crystal has been shipped out from the mine. None of the inhabitants have left since we surrounded the village. We have the Albion uniforms ready, we have the weapons in place, we have chosen the three lucky survivors and sequestered them. This was all completed yesterday, on schedule.’
Aubrey became aware that he had been gripping the door handle of the lorry harder and harder during Kirchoff’s careful itemising of his unit’s duties. They were going to massacre the villagers? For what purpose?
And was the man actually referring to the mysterious Crystal Johannes? Was this the great secret of Korsur that Dr Tremaine was so interested in? It didn’t make sense – the rogue sorcerer wasn’t interested in wealth. His ambitions were far more lofty than mere riches.
Crystal Johannes. He was sure one of his lecturers had mentioned it in passing. Or had he come across it in a footnote somewhere? The memory nibbled at him, then darted away, like a shy trout approaching a fly.
Aubrey made what he hoped was a Tremainely sound of disgust and flung open the door of the lorry. ‘Enough!’ he barked and was glad to hear the timbre of his voice was utterly different from his norm. He strode around to join the wide-eyed Kirchoff. With every ounce of force he could muster, he slapped the colonel on the shoulder and was pleased to see the man stagger a little. ‘I’m sure you’ve done a fine job here, Kirchoff,’ he said. ‘I’m glad you’ve been so conscientious, but my plans have changed.’
‘Changed, sir?’
‘I want you to pack up your men and take them back to Fisherberg.’
‘I’m sorry, sir? You’re calling off the massacre?’
Aubrey swung on Kirchoff. ‘Are you questioning me?’ he said, casually.
Kirchoff actually went pale. Aubrey wondered what had happened in the past between the two men. ‘No, sir. Not at all.’
‘Good, but I thought I’d point out that it would be hard to conduct a massacre when the colonel in command doesn’t have a sidearm.’
Kirchoff’s hand went automatically to his belt. Aubrey pointed a finger and Kirchoff’s firearm leapt out of its holster and flew straight into Aubrey’s very Tremaine-like hand. Aubrey glanced at it and removed the safety. ‘Fine weapon.’
‘Yes, sir,’ Kirchoff whispered. His gaze was fixed on the revolver.
Aubrey snapped the safety back on, then tossed the revolver back to Kirchoff, who nearly dropped it. ‘Show me your men.’
Aubrey was relieved that his little reminder of Dr Tremaine’s abilities had worked as well as he’d planned. Some work with George’s pistol, a pencil and piece of paper, and the Laws of Familiarity, Sympathy and Attraction, and he’d had his little demonstration ready, a way of reinforcing that Kirchoff was dealing with a master magician.
