Because of that piddling Canal? But the Jandrian conflict had killed tens of thousands. Since when had the Splotze-Borovnik Canal been worth so many lost lives?
Feeling sick, Monk stared at Gerald’s difficult superior. “Sir, Gerald said that you said my sister wouldn’t be in danger. She’s just window dressing. That’s what he said you said. Sir.”
“And I did say it,” Sir Alec replied, his voice thin and distant. Then, steepling his fingers, he turned his head, just a little, to frown out of the office window. “But that was before I learned Lanruvia is attending the wedding.”
“Lanruvia?” Monk swallowed, his heart knocking hard enough to crack a rib, surely. Because he was a Markham, and because his parents had always trusted him, he knew a lot more about a lot of things that most people had never heard of. Probably not even Gerald or Melissande knew what he knew about the deeply treacherous currents running through the waters of international thaumaturgical politics. “But why?”
“I don’t know, Mister Markham,” said Sir Alec, sounding grim. “But between us I am rather hoping we can find out. Because as doubtless you know… wherever Lanruvia treads, trouble is bound to follow.”
With Sir Alec’s alarming words of warning ringing in his ears, instead of returning directly to his cramped cubicle in Research and Development, Monk went home to the Markham mansion.
“Hello, Dodsworth,” he said, as the butler stepped back from the front door to let him in. “Don’t suppose my brother’s about, is he?”
“He is, Mister Monk,” said the butler warmly. “I believe you’ll find him in the Octagonal Library.”
“Then that’s where I’ll be, if you need me. Thanks.”
“You’re welcome, sir,” said Dodsworth, pushing the heavy front door closed. “Have you eaten, sir, or can I bring you some luncheon?”
He nearly said No, don’t bother, I won’t be here that long, then changed his mind. He was ravenous, and lunch served from the Markham mansion’s kitchen was infinitely preferable to what he could scrounge for himself back at R amp;D. Especially since he suspected that Dalrymple would’ve done his best by now to make sure there’d be nothing left worth eating in the cafeteria.
“Thanks,” he said, and patted Dodsworth’s stooped shoulder. “You’re a scholar and a gentleman.”
Dodsworth’s smile was deprecating. “Neither, sir. But I’m sure it’s kind of you to say so. I’ll see you upstairs shortly.”
Because he’d been expecting it, Aylesbury’s lack of enthusiasm at his appearance didn’t sting. Well, not much. Truth was, he was so used to it now that if his brother had evinced pleasure at seeing him he’d likely faint from the shock.
“You’re still here, then,” he said, closing the library door behind him.
Seated at the large reading table, Aylesbury shook his head without looking up. “My brother, ladies and gentlemen. Master of the obvious.”
“Sorry. All I meant was that Bibbie mentioned your Aframbigi trip’s been delayed. I hope that’s not too awkward.”
“Do you?” Aylesbury rested one finger on his place in the report he was reading and lifted his unenthusiastic gaze. “I can’t imagine why.”
As always, that undertone of mocking cynicism. But he couldn’t let it distract him. Bibs and Melissande and Gerald were counting on Monk Markham to save the day.
“Anyway,” he said, closing a little of the physical distance between himself and his brother. “Have you got a moment? I wanted to ask you something.”
Aylesbury scowled. Because this was a business day he wasn’t wearing his neck ruff and velvets, and his earlobe was empty of his favourite dropped pearl. Instead he looked like any ordinary wizard, in a plain charcoal grey suit and restrained dark red tie.
“Look, Monk,” he said, not even attempting a cursory courtesy. “I might not be in the office, but that doesn’t mean I’ve got time to lark about. With the Aframbigi trip on hold it means I’m back to juggling three other clients, all of whom are convinced the other two don’t matter a toss.”
Monk dropped into the nearest overstuffed leather reading chair. “It’s important.”
“So’s this! Find someone else to pester.”
It was hard, but he kept his temper in check. “Trust me, Aylesbury, if there was someone else I would. But it’s you, or no-one. And this can’t wait.”
Intrigued despite himself, Aylesbury sat back and considered him with tightly narrowed eyes. “Fine. I’m listening. But not for long.”
“Thank you,” he said, managing to keep the sarcasm at bay. “So, what can you tell me about whispers from Lanruvia?”
“Lanruvia?” Aylesbury’s eyes widened. Then he shrugged. “Nothing. There haven’t been any whispers. Not for years.”
It wasn’t the answer he wanted to hear. “Are you sure? I mean, your people have a lot of interests on the Andabedin Continent. And there’s not much that escapes the notice of local businessmen and traders.”
Aylesbury’s lips pinched in annoyance. “Yes, Monk, I’m sure. What, d’you think I’m being untruthful?”
No. Not exactly. But ever since childhood, whenever Aylesbury found something his little brother wanted he did his best to make sure he never got it.
So maybe I do think he’s lying. But really, is that fair? I mean, he’s got no earthly reason to.
“Why d’you want to know, anyway?” said Aylesbury. “Nobody in their right mind crosses paths with a Lanruvian.”
Ah. “It’s a work thing. Someone mentioned something in passing and it tweaked my interest.”
“Yes, well, I’ll bloody well tweak you if you’re not careful,” Aylesbury retorted. “I’ve got better things to be doing than-”
“Please, Aylesbury,” he said. “Indulge me, just this once.”
Aylesbury laughed, his expression scornfully impatient. “No, Monk, I won’t. There needs to be one person in the world who refuses to indulge the great Monk Markham.”
This wasn’t the time for one of their childish argy-bargies, so he throttled resentment. “Please.”
Clearly baffled, Aylesbury threw up a hand. “Fine. Ever since that near miss in ’91, everybody within spitting distance of Lanruvia sleeps with one eye open. I promise you, little brother, those slippery buggers are minding their manners. You hardly see them around any more.” He sneered. “But if you don’t believe me, why not ask Uncle Ralph? In fact, why not ask him in the first place, instead of bothering me?”
“Because sometimes the last person to know what’s happening in a place like Lanruvia is a man like Uncle Ralph.”
Aylesbury drummed his fingers on the arm of his chair. “This isn’t you pulling my leg, is it?” he said, after a moment. “You really are windy. Monk, what’s going on? And don’t give me that tripe about something in passing. It’s more than that.”
Yes, indeed, his brother was far from being a cabbage. “Ah…” Monk rubbed his chin. “Honestly, Aylesbury, I’d tell you if I could. I will tell you, once I’m cleared to. But in the meantime, could you keep an ear out for whispers about Lanruvia? Please? Because-”
He turned as the library door opened and Dodsworth entered carrying a large silver tray, on which were two covered plates and two glasses of red wine.
“Luncheon, gentlemen,” the butler announced. “Might I place it on the large reading table?”
“Do what you like it with it,” Aylesbury snapped, standing, and began shoving his reports into his briefcase. “I’ve a long-distance conference. I’ll be in my private study. Don’t disturb me unless one of Father’s experiments blows the roof off. And as for Lanruvia-” He flipped the briefcase catches shut. “You should think about cultivating a few more contacts, Monk. Last time I looked I wasn’t your dogsbody.”
Monk watched his brother march out of the library, then sighed. Bloody typical. With Aylesbury, in the end everything was reduced to the personal. Trying not to mind, he turned to the butler.
“The large table’s fine, Dodsworth. And since we now seem to have a spare serving, why don’t you join me? There’s no point letting good food go to waste.”
Dodsworth hesitated. “Really, Mister Monk, that’s most kind of you but-”
He slid off the arm of the chair. “Dodsworth, I insist. In fact, I’ll not take no for an answer.”
So Dodsworth set out the two plates, uncovered them, placed the covers and the silver tray out of the way,
