be paid. And of course all the allied contingents were trying to shift as much of their costs as possible onto the Portland treasury.
Lioncel brought her lunch. And his brother, two years younger and as dark as Lioncel was fair, but otherwise much like his brother. The three made their usual quick meal in the office on the pork-loin sandwiches and potato salad and fruit. Dame Lilianth scolded as Diomede tried to avoid getting a huge yellow mustard blot on his hose-and succeeded in getting it all over the floor. After he had cleaned it up, she sent him out with Dame Lilianth and Ysolde to work on organizing the kitchens to cope with the influx of temporary workers; that was good training in logistics.
She was deep into a plan submitted by the Count Palantine of Walla Walla to reinforce Castle Campscapell and wondering if it could, just possibly, be a scheme to get his own troops inside that Crown fortress when a quick tap on the door broke into her concentration.
“Come.”
Her senior squire Armand Georges poked his head in.
“Urgent dispatch, my lady Grand Constable.”
“Another?”
She managed to keep most of the sound of resentment out of her voice; this sort of thing went with the job.
“What is it this time?”
“Sir Guelf Mortimer of Loiston… did a bunk.”
“Shit! A bunk?”
“Fled. Scarpered. Twinkle-toed into the wild blue distance. Absent without leave…”
“All right.”
Tiphaine snapped her mouth shut, and squeezed her eyes shut for an instant. She’d parked him out at Hermiston to keep him on ice while the Gervais problem was dealt with. On the other hand…
“Tell me how Guelf pulled it off.”
He shrugged. “From what we’ve managed to piece together, he conned each of the back-scouting parties into believing he was with the other one. Unfortunately for him, Sir Thierry Renfrew ran into a CUT probe down the Columbia. He fought and called for reinforcements. That’s the train that arrived at four this morning with the wounded. Chenoweth called up Mortimer’s picket. They had some trouble finding them. He finally tracked them down late yesterday. Guelf left early on the nineteenth.”
“Days! He could be anywhere by now.”
“But there’s not much doubt where he’s headed. Gervais.”
“Yes.” She frowned. “That getaway was a lot more subtle than Guelf’s usual level. But heading for Gervais is putting his head on the block and even he should have been able to see that. Uncharacteristically smart, then bone-stupid even beyond his usual.”
“Offhand, I’d say that means he’s being used as a puppet, and by someone who doesn’t care about the consequences for him.”
“Good analysis.”
She smiled then, and even Armand blinked, though he’d been one of her operatives for years.
“I was hoping to keep the Gervais problems on hold, but the operation’s ready to go. And Guelf has just delivered himself into my hand. Desertion in the face of the enemy!”
She held her right hand out, palm-up, and then slowly closed the long fingers into a fist. Then she reached out for Chenoweth’s dispatch.
“Go find Sir Garrick Betancourt. He’ll be down with the Marchwarden of the South in the situation room. Tell him drop the hammer. Verbal orders only, of course.”
Armand nodded and left at a brisk walk; running would attract the eye and arouse curiosity.
Tiphaine leaned back from the crowded desk and let her fingers trace the pommel of the misericord dagger at her belt.
Thirty miles, give or take, and the rail runs right through Gervais. Betancourt should be there by midafternoon if he pushes it.
Mistress Douglas came in with a new sheaf of papers and searched for the correct docket to file them in.
Tiphaine followed her out to talk to one of the typists.
“Mistress Romero, write and send a message to the Regent. It can go in the clear, as fast as possible. Guelf Mortimer of Loiston has drawn the dotted line.”
Puzzlement, and then she could see everyone assuming that it was some private code. It was; the rest of the phrase was on the back of his neck, which was where the headsman’s ax went-Guelf wouldn’t rate the two-handed sword, not being a tenant-in-chief.
CHARTERED CITY OF GOLDENDALE COUNTY OF AUREA PORTLAND PROTECTIVE ASSOCIATION (FORMERLY CENTRAL WASHINGTON) HIGH KINGDOM OF MONTIVAL (FORMERLY WESTERN NORTH AMERICA) AUGUST 5, CHANGE YEAR 25/2023 AD
Mathilda grimaced slightly as Tiphaine halted her narrative.
“There weren’t any palatable choices right there, were there, Tiph?”
“That’s war for you, Matti. Particularly this type; we just couldn’t take any chances on the politics of it. Fortunately I’m not at the ultimate policymaking level. I’m more like a crossbow. You point me and pull the trigger.”
“And I am doing the aiming now, and the only ones I can blame things on if it goes wrong are Rudi and God, which wouldn’t be a good idea. Well, the Liu siblings need to know some of that. That way of dealing with Mary Liu was so Mom, though. Just trying to follow her logic makes my brain hurt, sometimes. It’s always there but it’s… twisty.”
“At least you can follow it. Thousands couldn’t, and a lot of them came down with a case of the deads. Not least the late unlamented Dowager Baroness Liu, in the end.”
The man-at-arms came back up the stairs.
“His Reverence Abbot-Bishop Dmwoski, Your Majesty,” he said. “The Honorable Huon Liu, heir to Barony Gervais; the Honorable Yseult Liu.”
Tiphaine looked at her, and Mathilda nodded slightly. Then she smiled and rose as they entered and made their bow and curtsy; she advanced and kissed Dmwoski’s ring respectfully, then extended her hands to the youngsters. She’d known them socially, of course-Odard had been a frequent companion of hers for years before the Quest. But they’d both been teenagers and then young adults, and at that age you tended to ignore younger siblings who were still children. Neither had been presented at court.
And their mother tended to keep them very close, she thought. Even before she went to the bad.
“Lord Huon, Lady Yseult,” she said gently. “I am so sorry about Odard. I miss him terribly, but you can be very proud of him. It was an honor to be his friend and liege.”
She liked the way Huon reacted, dignified but reserved; for a fifteenyear-old it was rather impressive. He moved well, too, and looked as if he’d have something of Odard’s wiry strength. Yseult was more reserved still, and…
Tiphaine gives her the willies, though she hides it well. Of course, looked at objectively Tiph is scary as hell; she doesn’t scare me because I grew up around her. She did kill Yseult’s mother. So I don’t expect more than courtesy, but if the girl is going to be around Court, she just has to get used to it.
“And you all know Baroness d’Ath.”
Another round of polite bows. Mathilda could tell that Dmwoski was being a bit chilly, and Tiphaine was secretly amused by it; she respected Dmwoski despite his faith, not for it.
I don’t think the Lius noticed. They’re smart enough, but young yet.
The cleric and the Grand Constable were both far too self-controlled to make it obvious. Or to let personal dislikes interfere with the job, for that matter.
“Please sit, and help yourselves,” Mathilda said. “I understand you’ve been on the train all day, and it can’t have been much fun.”
“Crowded and slow, Your Majesty,” Dmwoski said. “But that’s only to be expected in wartime.”
