Gilded Latten Bones (37 page)

Belinda muttered, “I think I’m going to puke. So. Let’s move out. Let’s go storm the ramparts of reality.”

Strafa said, “Garrett and I will go ahead so he can see the Crown Prince. Please bring the young miss with you and Mr. Dotes.” She turned to Mike. “And thank you so much for your hospitality, Miss Teagarden.”

Belinda agreed. “Yeah. Twice, now. You’ve won a special place in my heart, Mike. You want some special considerations, ask. Just don’t be unreasonable.”

Miss Tea inclined her head in a ghost of a bow. “A bit more flexibility in the way we are permitted to operate wouldn’t be amiss.”

The upcoming negotiation should be fascinating.

I got no chance to find out. Strafa dragged me to the window. I whined, “Why can’t we go out the front door like regular people?”

“Because we’re special people and the regular people need to be reminded.”

I glanced at Penny as I clambered out, twisting, turning, picking up scratches and scrapes. The girl seemed forlorn but she had not melted down in shame.

94

Westman Block and a clutch of red tops infested my stoop and the street in front of my house. Strafa, a broom, and I slid down through the morning air. They spotted us as Strafa eased up to my window. Block had a lot to say down there but I couldn’t hear him over Strafa’s grumbling. I gave him a big grin and a bold thumbs up.

Strafa was exasperated. “It’s shut again.”

“What is?”

“The window. Somebody keeps shutting it while I’m gone.” She made gestures and muttered sourly.

I could guess who had done the shutting. I wasn’t sure why.

Did Singe want to sabotage the new order?

The window slid upward. It made no sound.

“You’d make a great second-story man, woman.”

“Sweetheart, please climb through. Same as when we left.”

I dismounted without losing my composure or footing. I focused on the window. I have trouble with heights when I’m just standing around, looking down, from a place whence I could actually fall if I did something stupid. The fear is more manageable when I’m doing something implausible, like riding a broomstick with a witch.

I got inside without discovering a need to change my underwear.

Strafa darted in before I finished celebrating. The tip of her broom handle bonked me in the back of the head.

We treated ourselves to a few seconds of kissy-face huggybear; then the grown-up half of the crowd said, “You’d better go downstairs and see if Prince Rupert is still here.”

“That bed sure looks inviting. And I mean for sleeping.”

“Downstairs. Go. Barate used to say, ‘We can sleep as much as we want after we’re dead.’”

“Yeah. He missed his calling as a top kick in the corps.”

Always literal minded, Strafa said, “He was a counterespionage specialist in Full Harbor. He did two tours, one before I was born and another after my mother died.”

No comment. One more hug. One more kiss, me having trouble believing this was happening. Then downstairs we went.

We found the Crown Prince asleep in Singe’s office. Singe was not there. She was in bed. So was Dean. The number-two man in Karenta was being entertained by Dollar Dan Justice to the extent that the ratman was in the same room. He was asleep, too.

I wakened both gently, Dollar Dan first. He muttered something about making tea and shuffled out.

Rupert wakened with an exaggerated start, obviously unsure where he was or why he was there. I found keeping a straight face to be a huge effort.

He had the most ridiculous, wonderful confection on his head, a massive ball of silver thread, wire, ribbon, and nonsense. It dropped down to his shoulders in back, his neck on the sides, and even covered most of his face.

“Did something tickle your funny bone, Mr. Garrett?”

He had the voice of a lord, I’ll grant that. It was a rich deep voice made for command.

“Your chapeau took me by surprise.”

“Now you’re going to tell me I wasted my time.”

“You did, Your Grace. Himself is asleep.” I should make some cheat cards. I don’t spend enough time around royalty to know the proper forms of address. Rupert didn’t puff up and turn red so Your Grace was good enough for now.

“So I understand. It probably doesn’t matter, anyway. I came here to keep my brother from making a big mistake, trying to use the Palace Guard that way.”

I shrugged. “I don’t know what his thoughts were, either.”

“I sent word that I wanted to talk to you.”

“I’ve been busy.” I thought I had my mouth under control. Strafa, though, shuffled uncomfortably. “But here I am. Let’s do it quick. I still have things that need doing.”

I should not have added that.
His
time was precious. Mine was the worthless property of a trivial subject.

He did glance at Strafa, plainly wondering if she was what was distracting me from becoming an instrument of his will. “All right, then. I’ve already missed a night of sleep because of my brother. A while with you won’t make any difference.”

“What do you want from me, then?”

“Two things: this business of the thread men, then a renewal of my offer of employment. Tribune Felhske isn’t working out.”

“He’s a better investigator than I am. And he wants the job.”

“He is better than you only in a limited sense. What you lack in specific skills and ambition you make up in honesty.”

“Felhske is a crook?”

“He takes excessive advantage of his position. He isn’t yet aware that I know about his bad behavior.”

“I’m disappointed. I recommended him. But I’m still not interested. I like my life the way it is.”

“Talk it over with Strafa. She ought to have some say.”

“I’ll do that. Though... Never mind. There was another matter?”

“The important thing. I want you, Strafa, and all of your friends, to back off and stay backed off of the thread men thing. And I do mean it.”

“Why?”

“Because I told you to.” He frowned, puzzled by the fact that I would even ask.

“Ain’t gonna happen.”

“Excuse me?” He lurched forward in his chair, as though his ears must have betrayed him because of the distance between us.

“You’ve been telling lots of people to back off. You won’t say why. Has even one of them listened? I don’t think so. Some maybe try to be less obvious but they’re keeping on keeping on. I’ll keep on myself till I get my hands on whoever tried to kill my friend.”

Strafa made a hissing sound, trying to caution me.

Rupert reddened till I feared he might have a stroke. He was not accustomed to hearing straight talk.

I said, “It isn’t about you. Or your brother, which is where this must be coming from. None of the people working on rooting out the thread men... Why did you call them that?”

“Because they’re sewn together.”

“Oh. Clever. They aren’t so much of a problem. It’s the people doing the sewing that we want.”

“It is necessary that those people be left to their peers.”

“The villains who run the Hill? I saw their thugs out there masquerading as Palace Guards. Makes you wonder who’s in charge.”

Prince Rupert’s eyes bugged. He opened his mouth but nothing came out.

Strafa asked, “You didn’t know? You didn’t see them?”

I said, “They blend in like gorillas in skirts.”

“That isn’t possible.”

“Talk to your commander. Talk to your top kick. They had to know.”

The Prince got a grip. “Be that as it may, I have my orders. I will execute them.”

“Even if they’re illegal? You’re the great champion of the rule of law.”

“The Crown is the law, Mr. Garrett.”

“I don’t think so.”

Strafa said, “Garrett!”

“Even an ignorant peasant like me knows divine right don’t click anymore. If your brother starts thinking he can make up laws as he goes along he won’t get to make very many. Add up how many kings we’ve had in our lifetimes. You might have to take off a shoe to count them all.”

Strafa said, “Garrett, that’s enough.”

Prince Rupert was furious. I, being tired and twisted, was reverting to contrary Garrett. I saw me doing it but could not engage the governor on my jaw.

Singe arrived with the tea that Dollar Dan had gone to get. There were some yesterday biscuits and hard-boiled eggs. “Please pardon Mr. Garrett, Your Grace. He suffers from a congenital defect that makes him say stupid things when he is awake.” She deposited the tray on a folding table beside Prince Rupert, then faced me. “You. Come with me.” Over her shoulder, “If you will excuse us for a moment, Your Grace?”

We crossed the hallway to the Dead Man’s room. I spotted the Bird snoring on the floor in a corner. I had thought he had left a long time ago.

“What the hell is the matter with you? That’s the godsdamned Crown Prince of Karenta in there. You’re acting like he is... Like he is another Bird.” She waved a paw. “Don’t you have the sense the gods gave a drunken goose? Are you bucking for a career in swamp drainage?”

“If I could get a word...”

“You don’t need to get a word in. It will be some godsdamned absurd excuse. I have heard you state that excuses are like assholes. Everyone has one, and they all stink.”

“I...”

“Grow up, Garrett.”

“But...”

“Ten years ago...
Five
years ago you could indulge in all this obnoxious, stupid shit you wanted. It did not matter. No one but you got pounded over the head. You do not have that luxury anymore. Making yourself feel big by being a dick toward people in authority is no longer an option.”

Wow! Singe was well and thoroughly pissed off. And she was just getting warmed up.

“Go back in there. Go on being a jerk. But before you start, tell me what will come of it after you get your moment of strutting around congratulating yourself on how you showed somebody?”

“All right, Singe. I get it. I’ll jump in there and kiss his ass and lick his boots and beg him to use a little lard when he bends me over.”

She slapped me.

That stunned me silent.

Her arms were not long enough to let her get a good windup but the impact stung plenty anyway.

My little girl was
seriously
upset. I might want to invest a few seconds in trying to work out why.

I had told Prince Rupert that things were not all about him. I suppose Singe wanted me to recognize that they were not all about me, either.

That unhappy man across the hall had the power to make me and everyone I ever met extremely unhappy. And he was just one breath away from having the power to make that unhappiness eternal.

Rupert might be a fool but he was not just some passing moron that I could sneer at and disdain to his face.

“I get what you want me to see, Singe.” But I couldn’t surrender completely. “I’ll go kiss the idiot and make it better.”

The way Singe moved then, I feared she might be looking for a club big enough to pound me into a shape she found acceptable.

95

“I want to apologize for my antagonistic attitude, Your Grace. I have been under a great deal of stress. I shall do my best to defer to your wisdom henceforth — except in the matter of going to work for you, which you should not view as any reflection upon yourself.”

Singe showed me her teeth. That was not good enough, apparently.

Other than being renown for having promulgated his First Law, Morley might be most famous for having observed that the world would be a better place if we just had sense enough to kill the right people.

I don’t disagree — so long as I get to make the list.

Prince Rupert was determined to become a featured name.

He said, “I expect some social gaps are too broad to bridge even with the best intentions.”

I started to open my mouth. Singe lifted a knickknack off her desk and wound up.

I said, “That’s true. Before you leave, couldn’t you indulge us with just a hint as to why General Block and Director Relway can’t pursue the mission...”

“Stop. There are times... There are special circumstances...”

Perhaps. But he, Block, and Relway had been savagely diligent about crushing that justification. Till now. “If you want to change the rules suddenly you need to support it with something more than, ‘Because I said so.’ Because that is total bullshit. Which you have said a hundred times yourself.”

“My brother needs it. He’ll die otherwise. I don’t want to be King.”

What the hell was that?

Singe had that bookend thing in hand again.

Rupert sputtered some, then said, “Even more, I don’t want my brother Eugene or nephew Kansa to be king. Either would be a disaster. As has been this visit. I must go.”

I escorted him to the door. Before I could shut it behind him, he told me, “Stay away from this, Garrett.” His tone said he didn’t hold out much hope that he would get his way.

I told Singe and Strafa, “There’s a political angle after all.”

Strafa said, “It’s one that turned up, for Rupert, only in the last few days.”

“I’ll buy that. We have a little night left. I’m going to go catch a nap. Singe. No luck with the Dead Man?”

“Not yet. That last incident really wasted him.”

No shit.

96

I did not fall asleep right away, though not because Strafa crawled in and snuggled up. She went away instantly.

She had worked hard.

My mind had snagged on the possibility that the King was involved in the bad stuff to the point of trying to protect the evildoers.

Though there was no testimony yet I was sure the bad guys were buying prisoners from the Little Dismal operation and using them to build their thread men. Why, though, was beyond my imagination. The thread men were not aggressive unless driven. They were less dangerous than the zombies they resembled.

I reviewed each attack, over and over. I came up with nothing new, except that the lines of flight from Fire and Ice not only headed toward the Hill, they passed Knodical, supposedly currently untenanted.

That deserved investigation. The plunder from the Elf Town warehouse had gone there.