‘Calm yourself, Swanny,’ the Duke said. ‘I am glad to see you so much recovered, but you will need your strength.’
‘I congratulate you on your wedding, sire. It is most kind of you to visit me on such a day. It is an honour.’
‘Congratulate me, do you? An honour, is it?’ He watched his Chancellor. ‘Have I always been such a disappointment to you, Swanny?’
‘Sire, I …’ Swann was losing his poise; he looked at the faces of those around him in confusion.
‘Shush, now.’ The Duke spoke very softly. ‘You have had care of me since I was a child. Care of my education, my training. I have my ways, but I know my people and love them. Do you think you did such an appalling job you had to turn traitor?’
‘Your Highness, I do not understand.’
‘I told you to be quiet, Swann. You see, I thought you believed I had improved these last years, but that was not so, was it? It was just you and your little cabal thought you held the reins so securely, I could be indulged and gently manipulated, rather than your old bullying. Is that what the Minervals taught you?’
Harriet watched Swann’s face. When the name of the Minervals was spoken, his skin went grey. It was as if he had aged in front of her in moments. His bandaged hands began to pull at the sheets and he blinked rapidly.
‘Sire, you have been lied to! It is all lies!’ His voice was harsh and dry and there was a yellowish bile on his lips. He licked them convulsively. Lifting one bandaged hand, he pointed to Padfield. ‘Why do you listen to that oafish Englishman? And Count Frenzel, you are a fool. You believe yourself an expert on every subject under the sun, when it is clear you have no capacity for real study.’
Count Frenzel went white. ‘You ridiculous little monster.’
The Chancellor began speaking more quickly, his voice rising. ‘That eunuch is a spy, sire! I know he has worked for Austria in the past. You are being lied to!’
The Duke sighed and leaned back in his chair, turning his foot. His shoes were white too. The heels golden. ‘I am a Duke, Swanny, I have been lied to all my life. And as for my songbird, do you really think he would be in this room now, if I did not know of his other talents? Of course he is a spy – he is
my
spy.’
Harriet looked at Manzerotti and he shrugged slightly and smiled at her.
‘I have felt something wrong here for a long time, Swanny, but I did not know whom I could trust. The arrival of Frenzel last year and Padfield the year before was most opportune. They were fresh, and though I could not know their loyalty, or their abilities, I knew they were untainted. They became my way of acting, and knowing that I could act. It was the King of Prussia who recommended Manzerotti to me, by the way. He and I are become quite friendly.’
Swann seemed smaller, as if he were shrinking among the bedclothes. ‘Sire, Christoph, my friend – I admit it. Some of your closest friends, we created a small informal association, to guide, to quietly assist. We did it all for Maulberg.’
The Duke continued to make little circles with his foot. ‘“The governors of nations are despots when not guided by us. They can have no authority over us, who are free men”. Recognise that? One of the key assertions of the Minervals. You arrogant fools. An informal grouping? I could laugh if I weren’t so disappointed. You are too German for that. I have learned a great deal this morning about all your ranks and titles.’ He stood suddenly. ‘You almost made my state a laughing-stock with your petty intrigues, your drugs and plots.’
‘All to Maulberg’s advantage!’
‘Or your own! Anyone who looked as if they might become close to me driven away, and your incompetent meddling in affairs of state. How stupid are you, that you believe the best way to conduct policy is with a poison ring. You thought of your own influence first, your pleasure in intrigue came second, your duty to the good of the people a poor third.’
‘No, our loyalty to Maulberg—’
The Duke balled his fists. ‘I
am
Maulberg.’ Swann twitched away from him. ‘Do you hear me, Chancellor?
I
am Maulberg.’ He leaned forward, and putting his hands on the bed and bringing his face close to Swann’s, he said: ‘These unknown superiors of yours, Swanny. Do you know who they are?’
‘Men of wisdom … of great power.’
The Duke shook his head. ‘There are none! And your Spartacus, the man to whom you and the Countess and the Colonel and the rest bowed down, your fountain of knowledge, your link to these great unknowns – Spartacus is a junior,
junior
member of the Law Faculty at Leuchtenstadt! The son of a farmer. A radical who himself wrote every law of the Minervals, all your ceremonies and initiations. There
are
no superiors! Lord, did he know how to make you dance, you and your precious circle of seven here. It’s all nonsense. Shadows and secrets and the theatrics of a charlatan. And now someone has run you all down and is punishing you. You are like wild pigs in the gulley. No idea where the shots are coming from.’
‘But sire—’
‘Whatever this horror that pursues you, you summoned it yourselves.’ He stood upright again and straightened his cuffs. ‘You are to leave my territories and you will never return. You are banished, sir.’
‘Christoph, we only wanted the best for everyone. I am the last of our circle left alive, I have spent my life serving you, will you not help me now? I have been loyal …’ His voice came out in a dry whisper.
The Duke did not look at him. ‘Not loyal enough, Swanny. You might have told yourself you had high ideals, but once you had your cabal in place, you thought only of your own power. This marriage is the best thing possible for Maulberg, but you and your friends feared it because it would decrease your power here. You wanted a puppet and a state to rule. In the end, your loyalty was to yourself.’ Harriet thought of the Duke as she had first seen him, playing with his dog, or at cards with his courtiers. She wondered just how long he had been playing a part, creating a fiction so he could move unseen in his own palace. ‘Count Frenzel – you have the lists. Draw up the warrants, please. I will sign them – and Colonel Padfield, I trust you to see them executed.’ Frenzel bowed; he was still a little white around the lips. At last the Duke looked back at the shrunken figure on the bed. ‘When you leave, leave quietly. If you are here in the morning, your estates will be forfeit. Goodbye, Swanny.’ He turned to the door. Swann held up his hand and called his name, but the Duke did not alter his pace and the door shut behind him.
Harriet and Crowther remained where they were. When Swann put his head into his hands, Harriet stepped forward and placed a hand on his shoulder. He shook her off and glared at her. ‘Get out, you witch! Get out, you whore, and take your pet with you. Get out. I would rather die than be comforted by you.’
She was so shocked she felt unable to move, but found Crowther’s grip under her elbow and realised she was being guided from the room. She couldn’t help looking back at the ruined old man on his bed, sobbing into his fine linen.
T
HEY RETREATED TO THEIR SALON
. Harriet’s colour was high, and as Crowther told Graves of what had happened in Swann’s chamber, she walked to and fro across the room, her skirts flicking and tumbling around her.
‘I can hardly believe it!’ Graves said. ‘Did you suspect it, Mr Crowther? That Swann was one of the group?’
‘I did. A man who has spent his time that near to absolute power … He would not be the first to think he could wield it better than his master.’
Graves opened and closed his mouth a couple of times before saying, ‘You must think me hopelessly naive.’
Crowther smiled at him. ‘It sits rather well on you, my boy.’
Graves sighed. ‘I have been looking through our notes while Mr and Mrs Clode rest to see if I can find any trace of the name Kastner. I can find none.’
‘Swann confirmed that Antonia Kastner is the model for the automaton,’ Crowther said. ‘But he claims to know nothing of what happened to her after she left here.’
Graves sat back on his chair and rubbed his eyes. ‘No mention of an “Antonia” either. Perhaps Julius knows who commissioned him for this item with the same design. I saw him this morning. He invited me to watch the festivities in the square, so if you want to find him, I would do so there.’ He pushed the papers on the table about a little hopelessly. ‘At any rate, I want to know what it was that he made that had this symbol on it.’
‘I don’t care,’ Harriet said suddenly. Graves looked up at her rather stunned, though Crowther’s face showed no emotion.
‘These Minervals! The Duke is right, they brought this on themselves. Let them suffer. They deserve these miserable deaths. To take that woman’s reputation, to forcibly separate her from her child … Let whoever is taking revenge on her behalf finish his work with that miserable Chancellor! I shall toast his success as we leave this poisonous place.’
They were silent. Graves began to say something, but Crowther made a gesture to silence him. Crowther then turned to the window, placing his hand against the pane of glass. The courtyard outside was full of movement, servants running to and fro, carriages and horsemen clattering over the cobbles. ‘If you, Mrs Westerman, had dedicated your energies to revenge after your husband’s death, the world would be a poorer place. These are not actions you should admire or wish to emulate. And what of Clode?’ Without wishing to, Crowther found himself thinking of Manzerotti and his gibe about Crowther’s great speeches on truth or justice. ‘Come, Harriet. If these deaths prove anything, it is that revenge is death itself.’
‘Would it be wrong to kill Manzerotti?’
‘It might not be wrong, but it would do no good. Nothing you can do will bring your husband back to you.’
Harriet sat down at the table and covered her face. Graves stood up slowly. ‘I also have some news. Mrs Padfield’s sister Beatrice is dead. Michaels found her body and is gone to give Mrs Padfield news of it. I shall return to my post guarding Swann. This killer’s work is not complete while he lives. And whatever Swann has done … no one should die like that.’
‘You have had the lion’s share of the watching, Graves,’ Crowther said, though he kept his eyes on Harriet’s bent head.
‘Daniel and Rachel are resting together. I would not wake them.’ He left quietly and for a while the only sounds in the room came from the servants passing to and fro in the courtyard outside. Crowther remained standing, watching Harriet and leaning on his cane. She made no sound, but he saw the teardrops falling on the polished wood of the table. ‘If there were any way known to man or God, Harriet, that could undo the hurt that was done to you … To bring James back …’ He thought of the Alchemist, his boast that he could bring back the dead, and stopped. He thought of the blood, the rituals, the woman talking to spirits among the servants, the seal which fixed a spirit in a vessel.
Harriet raised her head. ‘Oh, Crowther, that’s just it. You see it, don’t you? It is not
just
revenge. I’m certain that poor woman is dead, and some madman is trying to bring her back.’
Harriet was very quiet as they made their way out of the palace. She was a still point amongst the frenzy of excitement around her. It seemed the Duchess’s arrival was imminent and the city was putting on a brave display for her. The stands were filled with the nobility, all splendid in blue and gold. Along the lower ranks of the stands were a large number of ladies and gentlemen visiting from other courts and therefore not in the Duke’s own colours; they provided an ornamental border to the stands.
The women were in coloured and embroidered silks, their hair worked high, and the faces in the stands, male and female, were all powdered and rouged after the French fashion. Harriet, glancing up, was reminded of a display of porcelain dolls in Pulborough. On a whim she had bought the least unfriendly-looking of the display for Anne. Her daughter had seemed delighted with the present, but treated the doll with a sort of superstitious awe. Her rag doll was dragged about with her wherever she went, while this porcelain monstrosity was named Margaret, at Crowther’s suggestion, and placed high over the nursery. Anne and her rag doll occasionally brought it interesting pieces of gravel and set them at its feet like nervous worshippers before an idol.
There was a small stage at the centre of the square with a pair of high-backed, throne-like chairs on it, a cluster of less impressive seats in front of it and a small reading lectern. A number of musicians were being given some last-minute rehearsals from the court composer.
Every other available space in the square and throughout the gardens leading up to the palace itself was filled with the citizenry of Maulberg. All were in their best and jockeying for position in a good-humoured fashion. Whatever rumours might be flying around about the sudden spate of illnesses among the members of court, the atmosphere was of expectant good cheer. There was a stir in the mass of people at the front of the palace and a group of horsemen began to clear a way down the central path. An open carriage painted in silver and red drew up in front of the central portico. The Duke emerged and stepped inside accompanied by three visiting Princes all in blue military uniforms.
They began to make their way down through the gardens and the people started to cheer. The Duke raised his hand and waved. The trumpeters on the dais struck up a fanfare.
‘There he is!’ Harriet exclaimed, and for a moment Crowther thought his companion had been caught up in the excitement of the moment, but he found that rather than pointing at the Duke, she was pointing at a young man with red hair and a slightly dirty coat on the edge of the crowd, some twenty yards from them. They jostled their way over and Harriet put a hand on his sleeve.
‘Mrs Westerman!’ he said with a grin. ‘I’ve come to see the fun. So glad to hear Mr Clode is out of the hole. Saw Mr Graves up at the village this morning.’
‘Julius, have you made something recently with a design on it, a little like the Star of David, but with words, letters on it.’
‘You mean the Djinn bottle? That was about a year and a half ago.’