"Grantville Gazette .Volume XXIII" - читать интересную книгу автора (Flint Eric)

Game, Set and Match
Kim Mackey

London

When George Goring entered the study, his father-in-law was seated behind his desk and focused on the paperwork in front of him.

George waited a few seconds and then cleared his throat.

Richard Boyle, Earl of Corke, and now the King's chief Minister in all but name, looked up and smiled at him.

"George, so good of you to come on such short notice. How is Lettice?"

George cleared his throat again. Damn it, stop being nervous. Yes, Richard Boyle has power now to go along with his riches. But you've treated Lettice well. Mostly. "As well as can be expected, Your Lordship, given her health. She is off to Bath again with her cousin, Joan Gwyn."

"Ah," Boyle said. "And Grey Brown?"

George winced. In 1631, he had become bored with life on the Boyle estates in Ireland and had borrowed two thousand pounds. Then ridden off to seek adventure in Scotland and England, leaving his new wife in her father's care. The choice grey gelding he left with had been called Grey Brown.

"Very well, Your Lordship. I have him quartered here in London."

"Excellent!"

Boyle's look turned speculative.

"You know, George, my new secretary, Edward Hyde, speaks very highly of you."

"He does?"

Boyle smiled. "Oh yes. He says you have wit, courage, understanding… and ambition uncontrolled by fear of God or man." Boyle picked up the letter opener on his desk and began to twirl it on his fingers. "He also thinks you excel in dissimulation."

"I assure you, My Lord…"

Boyle sliced the letter opener through the air.

George's throat constricted.

Boyle laughed. "Relax, George. I didn't ask you here to make an example of you. Instead, I have a proposition for you." Boyle motioned Goring to sit.

George sat down heavily. "A proposition, your Lordship?"

"Indeed," Boyle said. "You've met Arthur Jones, the new Viscount Ranelagh?"

George nodded. "Of course, sir."

Arthur Jones, Viscount Ranelagh since his father's death by the outbreak of plague that had struck the city of London in 1633, was the husband of Boyle's fifth daughter, Katherine. Jones had become the butt of many jokes when his wife had gone on an extended trip to Grantville in 1632 with friends she had made among the Acontian society in London.

Without him, and without his permission.

Few blamed Katherine herself. As John Leek had told George, Jones was considered one of the foulest churls in Christendom whose best point for Katherine would have been that he was dead drunk every night and thus not awake to beat or abuse her.

"I've met him, Your Lordship, but we do not, uh, move in the same circles."

"Tactfully put, George. Tactfully put." Boyle considered George for a moment, then sat back in his chair. "George, have you ever read Fenton's translation of Guicciardini's History of Italy?"

"No, sir, I can't say that I have."

"You should, George. You should. He makes some very astute observations about political conditions that are relevant to England. For example, Fortune is a very fickle goddess, George. But men of virtue, such as myself, can always find ways to turn her intervention to advantage."

George shook his head. Where was Boyle going with this?

"Arthur, Viscount Ranelagh, has decided to attempt a reconciliation with Katherine."

"Really, Your Lordship? Arthur is going to Grantville?"

Boyle shook his head. "Not Grantville, Brussels. That is where my Katy is now. Assisting the Secretary of State of the Republic of Essen in negotiating a treaty with Fernando's Netherlands." Boyle begin playing with the letter opener again. "Katy and I have been in contact for some time. In fact, my youngest son, Robert, is visiting her right now. Although I believe he is still in Essen at the moment."

"Brussels," George said. "I have a number of contacts in Brussels."

Boyle smiled. "Exactly!"

"You want me to accompany Arthur to Brussels? Assist him in his attempt to reconcile with Katherine?"

Boyle's smile broadened. "Indeed. And I would be grateful, George. Are you still interested in one of Lord Tilbury's regiments? I think I can get you a troop of horse cavalry. Should be worth at least three thousand pounds a year."

George nodded. "That is very generous, Your Lordship."

"Worth it to me, George, especially if you can act as a mediator between Katy and Arthur. Not that I hold out that much hope for a reconciliation, you understand. Kate seems happy with her position, and Arthur seemed somewhat rigid in his own thoughts on the matter."

"I understand, sir. I will do my best to persuade Katherine to return to England with Arthur."

Boyle's smile turned grim, and he shook his head. "Oh no, George, that would not do, not at all."

George cocked his head. "Sir?"

"England, George, think of England. Kate has made many excellent contacts in Essen. She knows the governor general, Louis de Geer, who is a personal friend of the emperor, Gustavus Adolphus. Her closest friend, the up-timer Nicki Jo Prickett, is the principal research scientist for the Essen chemical company. And the Prickett woman has taken an interest in educating my son, Robert."

"Why is that, sir?"

"Apparently, in the other universe from which God delivered Grantville, Robert was the most well-known of any of my children. In fact, he was considered the father of modern chemistry there."

"So what do you want me to do in Brussels, Your Lordship?"

"Try to keep Arthur from making an ass of himself-and a fool of me-if you can. If Arthur agrees to join Katy in Essen, that would be best. But in the end, if necessary, it would be much better if Katy was a widow." Boyle looked into Goring's face. "Don't you agree?"

George nodded. Now the light was finally dawning. "Of course, sir. I agree completely."

Coudenberg Palace, Brussels

It was only after their second bout of lovemaking that Fernando and Maria Anna began their usual pillow talk.

"I missed you," Maria Anna said.

"And I missed you, my love," Fernando said. "But it was only eight days, after all."

"Only eight…" Maria Anna's head came off Fernando's chest. "Why, I'll…"

Fernando laughed. "Just kidding, my dear, just kidding."

"You better be," Maria Anna said. She pinched him and Fernando yelped.

"So tell me about your trip," she said, settling her head back down on Fernando's chest. "Were the Portuguese bankers in Antwerp more accommodating this time?"

"Oh, yes, much more accommodating," Fernando said. "They also seemed interested in sounding out our position on Brazil. A number of the merchants want to start mining gold in the Minas Gerais area."

"Gold? In Brazil? I thought rubber and sugar were the most important products in Brazil."

"They probably are," Fernando said. " But once again, it's information from Grantville that is driving up interest. The merchants in Antwerp have discovered that a thousand tons of gold were taken out of Brazil in the late seventeenth and on into the eighteen century in the up-time universe. Many of them want us to mount an expedition as soon as possible."

"Wonderful." Maria Anna sighed.

"And you?" Fernando said. "What did you do while I was away?"

"Meetings, meetings and more meetings," Maria Anna said. "At least the treaty with the Republic of Essen seems almost complete. Hainhoffer's assistant for technical matters, Katherine Boyle, has been very helpful. We've actually become quite close. I'm looking forward to meeting her friend."

"Friend?"

Maria Anna nodded. "Nicki Jo Prickett. An American. She's more our own age, unlike the women I was with on my trip across Germany. It will be interesting to see how her perspective differs from theirs. She's also bringing some up-time tennis racquets and tennis balls. I've had the court in the Warande garden redone to the same measurements as an up-time court." She smiled. "It's been fun to see how the sport evolved."

Fernando laughed. "You've been practicing, haven't you?"

"As well as I can. But the cork balls we use just don't give the same bounce as an up-time ball, according to Katherine. And you don't use the walls at all. But another reason I want to talk to Prickett is the company that she and Katherine want to establish in Brussels, with my help."

Fernando began stroking Maria Anna's hair. "What kind of company?"

"A cheese and chocolate factory."

"Cheese I can understand, I know you love cheese. But chocolate? I thought you hated chocolate."

"Only the kind I tasted in Vienna. It was very bitter. But Katherine assures me that the chocolate I tasted will bear very little resemblance to what 'Royal Maria Anna's Cheese and Chocolate Factory' will produce here in Brussels. After our tennis match on Thursday we will go to Essen House to sample some of their products. I'm looking forward to it."

"Perhaps I should come along."

Maria Anna laughed. "I don't think you'll have time. You'll be spending your hours soothing the feelings of the Brussels guilds about the Essen treaty."

Fernando growled. "They seem to have forgotten what Isabella and Albert did to them in 1619."

"I don't think you'll need to go that far. But they certainly don't feel the same way about us as they did the archdukes."

"Hmmm… 'Royal Maria Anna's Cheese and Chocolate Factory.' It does have a certain ring to it." Fernando's hand moved lower on her body. "But all this talk of food has made me hungry for something else."

"Fernando! Come here, you beast!"

Inn of the Silver Swine, Brussels

"Bitch! Harlot! Have you read this?" Arthur Jones thrust the letter across the table.

George shook his head, then pretended to read. "No, of course not." Ha! Not only have I read it, I helped compose it, you sniveling twit.

Three weeks in the company of Arthur Jones had been the most trying of George Goring's life. It wasn't just that Jones was a drunk. He was a talkative drunk. A whiny drunk. One who demanded the attention of all those around him (especially his new best friend, George Goring) so he could itemize in enormous and nauseating detail the endless wrongs done to him by his enemies. The list of which seemed to extend from his own father to his wife to nearly every human he had ever come in contact with.

Boyle is going to owe me a brigade for this. George looked up from the letter. "So, she offers a judicial separation I see."

"Judicial separation!" Arthur sneered. He tilted the tankard of beer and swallowed three times before slamming it back on the table. "And won't that make me a laughing stock at court." Arthur poked the letter in George's hands. "The whoresome bitch even refuses to see me. She'll deal only with you."

Arthur belched. Then smiled. "We'll see about that, my friend. Indeed we will."

"Careful, Arthur," George said. "You're not in England here. And Katherine has some powerful friends who dote on her. I think it best if you let me handle the negotiations."

"Negotiations!" Arthur spat contemptuously. "What is there to negotiate? Either she comes back with me to England or I'll beat her bloody, I swear I will. And as for that American friend who is poisoning her mind… I'll kill that little conniving strumpet."

George had to sigh. "Arthur, that's why she left you in the first place." Although, truthfully, it was probably the mental abuse that drove Katherine away. God knew, George was sick of Arthur's company after only three weeks. And Katherine had endured him for over a year.

"Ridiculous!" Arthur said, taking another three swallows of beer. "I never used a cudgel on the trollop. Just my hands. Not even a fist. Slaps only. Nothing but light chastisement, George, I swear it."

Then, like a torch being thrust into a river, the anger and hate in Arthur's eyes went out.

Oh God, here comes the self-pity again.

"Please, George, please. Help me? I love her, George, truly I do. Help me convince her to go back to England with me. Please?"

George sighed again. "All right Arthur, let's work on your next letter."

A brigade? Even that was insufficient. Perhaps a barony as well.

"Let's start by you professing your undying love and devotion, Arthur."

Essen House

Nicki Jo Prickett was just beginning to climb down from the first wagon when Katherine Boyle emerged from the doorway and threw her arms around her.

"Nicki!"

Nicki laughed and hugged her friend. For a second her eyes watered. God, how I've missed you, my love.

Katherine squeezed her tighter, taking her breath. "Whoa! Careful there Katy. I'm a bit fragile after this trip."

A young boy jumped down from the second wagon and ran over to them. "Katy!" Robert Boyle jumped into his sister's arms.

Nicki laughed again. "Think he missed you?"

Katy kissed her brother on the cheek and then lowered him to the street. "I missed you both terribly. But we have to get the wagons unloaded as quickly as we can. The Brussels' city council is strictly enforcing its ordinances against blocking the streets the next two weeks, what with all the visitors coming to see the festival."

"Festival?"

Katy nodded. "The Joyous Entry of Fernando and Maria Anna as the new King and Queen in the Netherlands. Very Burgundian. And very useful in terms of its political utility. Isabella and Albert did it when they became the archdukes. Lots of theater, pageantry, triumphal arches, tableaux vivant, and so on. You'll love it."

"I'm sure." Nicki said. She sighed to herself. She loved her life in the seventeenth century, but there were times…

Even with the help of the servants at Essen House the unloading of the wagons took almost an hour.

Finally Nicki and Katherine found themselves alone in the large kitchen.

"So, did you bring the tennis racquets like I asked you?"

"Of course," Nicki said, "and my last can of up-time tennis balls. But what's the story? I know you couldn't say much in your radio transmission given the limited time Hainhoffer allows for personal messages, but still…"

"The story is, my dear, that you have a match tomorrow with the queen in the Netherlands. And she and I have been practicing."

Nicki couldn't help but roll her eyes. "Oh, great. You know I hate playing down-time tennis. Yuck."

"Oh, no. She wants to play it by up-time rules. She's even had the court behind the Coudenberg palace laid out according to up-time dimensions."

"Now that's different. Do I have to throw the game for political reasons?"

"Not at all. Maria Anna seems pretty reasonable, for a royal. In fact, I think she'd probably resent it if you didn't play your best."

Katy's face clouded. "But we have other problems, I'm afraid. Arthur is here in Brussels."

"Arthur?" Nicki tried not to frown. "Your husband, Arthur? What the hell is he doing here?"

"Attempting to get me to come back to England with him. He has my brother-in-law, George, the one who married Lettice, with him."

"So what are you going to do?"

"Stall," Katy said, "until we leave for Essen. I don't think he'll follow us there. George is clearly helping in that regard. He hasn't said so, but I think he has instructions from my father to keep Arthur away from me. He is acting as the go-between during the negotiations." She grimaced. "So-called negotiations. I even offered to admit to adultery so he could get a judicial separation. He was not inclined to accept, according to George."

Nicki reached for Katy's hand, worried. "Any second thoughts?"

Katy shuddered. "None. I know I've told you about Arthur, at least a little. But if you really met him…" Katy shook her head. "No, I don't want you to meet him. And I certainly don't want to see him ever again. He was horrid. Truly, utterly horrid."

Women up-time had been abused. But from Katy's stories, Nicki had learned that physical and mental abuse of women in seventeenth century England was much more the norm than it had been up-time. Unlike many Protestant states in Europe, women in England couldn't even get a legal separation unless they could prove the physical abuse was life-threatening, which was difficult to do. And of course, there were no shelters for battered women as there were up-time. So women just suffered. And endured. A few-a lucky few-with sympathetic relatives and enough money were able to escape their abusive relationships. But most didn't.

"That's fine." Nicki patted the up-time revolver on her hip. It had been a present from her father when she had moved to Essen. "But if he shows up here, he better be on his best behavior. Or he'll find out what Sam Colt said."

Katy raised an eyebrow. "Sam Colt?"

"Yeah," Nicki said. "Inventor of the colt revolver. Like this thing here. 'God made men and women. But Sam Colt made them equal.'"

Katy laughed. "Now I remember! The wild west!" Katy hugged her. "Would you really shoot him?"

"If he tried to hurt you? Without a second thought."

For a minute they said nothing, just held each other.

"So, when is this tennis match?" Nicki asked.

"Tomorrow."

"Tomorrow!"

Katy smiled. "Yes. I was afraid you wouldn't make it in time. And afterward, Maria Anna is coming here to sample some of the products for the cheese and chocolate factory."

"Cheese and chocolate factory? What the hell…"

"Didn't I tell you? We're starting a cheese and chocolate factory here in Brussels under Queen Maria Anna's patronage. Herr Hainhoffer's cook, Barbara, has been preparing for it for a week. She even has a new recipe for those cookies you like."

"The ones with chipotle?" Nicki felt her mouth begin to water.

"The very ones."

"So what gave you this idea? About the factory, I mean."

"It was something that evolved over the weeks we've been here. Josh and Colette Modi are willing to back it. But when Queen Maria Anna brings it up, you need to pretend you know all about it."

"Great. A tennis match with royalty. Your husband is in town. A new business I knew nothing about. Anything else you want to tell me?"

Katy grinned mischievously. "Well, the fitting for your gown for the Joyous Entry ceremony next week is on Saturday."

"What!?"

"You certainly can't wear those clothes to one of the most important festivals in the Netherlands, can you?"

Nicki looked at her skort and jacket. "What's wrong with my clothes?" She held up her hand when she saw Katy stomp her foot. "Never mind. I don't want to know. I'll submit to your superior knowledge of seventeenth-century fashion. Grudgingly."

Nicki liked the seventeenth century. She really did. But too many of the womens' clothes, especially the ones worn by "high" society were a pain. Literally.

"Okay, Katy, tell me more about this chocolate and cheese factory."

"Cheese and chocolate."

"Whatever."

Warande Gardens, Coudenberg Palace

"We're not supposed to be watching, Corporal. We're supposed to be guarding."

Corporal Sanchez jerked away from the doorway. "Sorry, Sergeant."

Sergeant Jorge Rodriguez motioned with his hand. "Make your rounds, Corporal, make your rounds. I'll guard the doorway."

Sanchez moved off down the wall.

Rodriguez looked around and then peered in at the court. Come on, Your Majesty, you can beat the American!

It was infuriating. Even more infuriating was the fact she had no right to be infuriated. But at least the woman wasn't calling her "Your Majesty" every five seconds.

"You asked for this match, Maria Anna," she muttered. "You oh so wanted to play up-time tennis. So stop being so petty."

"Ready?" came from the other side of the court.

Maria Anna nodded. Once again Nicki Jo Prickett's serve came rocketing across the net.

Nicki had turned out to be a young woman of Maria Anna's height and build. At first Maria Anna thought that might give her an advantage, since her opponent wouldn't be a quick little bunny running down every shot like Katherine Boyle did. Unfortunately, Nicki had a much more powerful serve. As the match progressed Nicki's double faults had diminished and Maria Anna found herself time and again hitting empty air in her attempt to answer serve.

But this time Maria Anna was able to get her racquet on the ball and the rally was a good one, only ending when Nicki hit a backhand passing shot on the left side.

"Game, set and match, Your Maj… Maria Anna! Nice rally. You want to go again?"

Maria Anna shook her head as she approached the net and reached to shake Nicki's hand. "I think not, at least today." She pointed the up-time racquet at Nicki. "But Saturday, late afternoon, if you are willing? And were you serious about giving me this racquet? It really is a marvel."

"You bet I was serious. I really don't have much time to play in Essen, so one racquet is good enough for me. You can keep the tennis balls, too. They should keep their bounce for at least a few months."

Katherine approached from the sidelines. Nicki asked, "Is Saturday afternoon okay? Will I be done with the torture session?"

Katherine laughed. "Yes, the fitting should be done by then." She looked at Maria Anna. "Nicki has a difficult time accepting the fashions of nobility."

"I can certainly understand that." Maria Anna said. She pointed at Nicki's legs. "Those look so much more comfortable for tennis. What did you call them again? I adore that color."

"Sweat pants. Yeah, I love emerald green, too. Unfortunately, they're a cotton and polyester blend, so we probably won't have something like them any time soon. But we're working on the color at Essen Chemical. Dyes are a big business."

"That was a very nice match, Maria Anna," Katherine said. She hugged Nicki. "Nicki played tennis on her high school team and in college. You adapted very well to the up-time tennis balls."

"Well, it didn't feel like I was adapting," Maria Anna said. "I kept missing the serves. It was infuriating. Will you work with me on that, Nicki? I'd love to have that kind of serve the next time I play my sister. I can just see her jaw dropping and rolling around on the court."

Nicki smiled. "It will be my pleasure, Your Majesty."

"But now," Katherine said, "I think it's time for refreshments. I know that Barbara is probably waiting anxiously for us at Essen House. Back to the palace, Maria Anna?"

"Definitely," Maria Anna said. The best thing about living in Mary of Hungary's rooms in the Coudenberg Palace was the fact that they faced the garden rather than the courtyard. They would be able to enter directly from the Warande without having to pass through dozens of courtiers and palace servants.

"But I think we'll leave by way of the side entrance to the gardens through the Domus Isabella. We'll attract less attention that way and I can travel incognito." She scowled. "Well, as incognito as my husband and guards will let me. It is very different now compared to my time after the escape from Munich."

"Katy mentioned your travels across Bavaria. Was that exciting?"

The women continued their conversation as they approached the entrance to the Warande.

Inn of the Silver Swine

"Where's Arthur?"

James Fallows, the Catholic Englishman and veteran of the Army of Flanders, who George had hired to babysit Arthur Jones, nodded toward the back stairs of the inn. "Said he was feeling ill and was going to his room. He's been up there at least an hour."

Well, if the illness is serious enough, perhaps we can end this charade and go home, George thought, climbing the stairs. He knocked on the door to Arthur's room. "Arthur? How are you feeling? You awake?"

No one answered.

No, please no. George opened the door. Jones was not in the room, and the bed was in the same disarray that George remembered from the morning.

Bloody hell! He's gone to find Katy.

Essen House

Arthur Jones was fifty yards from Essen House when he saw the carriage and its guard detail of half-a-dozen cavalry pull up in front. He stopped and squinted as three women, including one who had to be his Katherine, climbed out of the carriage and entered Essen House. The carriage then moved off along with its escort and parked in the square further down the street.

Now or wait? There was no telling how many people might be in the house. Better to wait.

"Oh, this is very, very good. Chocolate covered strawberries!" Maria Anna took a second bite. "You were right, Katy. This chocolate is nothing like I tasted in Vienna. You say you have two different kinds?"

Nicki nodded. "Dark chocolate, which is semi-sweet. That's what's on the strawberries. And milk chocolate, with more sugar. That is what these were made with." She offered Maria Anna a cookie.

Maria Anna took a bite and her eyes opened wide. "Spicy? I love spicy! Hungarian dishes with paprika were always my favorite in Vienna."

Nicki laughed. "So do I. These don't have real chipotle, which would mean smoked jalapenos, but they're close. They're made from a chili pepper grown in a town in the Basque area of Spain called Espellete. Imported from America a century or so ago, of course."

"Fernando must taste these. Really he must."

Katy smiled and pointed at the basket on the table. "We thought you might like to take some samples with you. We'll put more cookies in the basket." She laughed when she saw Nicki's face droop. "And don't worry Nicki, Barbara will make more for you tonight."

Sergeant Rodriguez never took his eyes off the front door of Essen House. It didn't matter that the queen had ordered him to wait for her here in the square. It didn't matter that the square was less than seventy yards from Essen House. What mattered was that if anything went wrong, if anything happened to the queen, the king was sure to blame him, not Her Majesty.

"Sergeant, that man is acting suspicious."

"What man?" Rodriguez asked.

Sanchez pointed with his chin. "That one. The one across the street with his arms crossed. He's been standing there since we've been in the square, I'm sure of it. He never seems to take his eyes off Essen House."

It was at that moment that the front door to Essen House opened.

"You two go ahead, I'll catch up at the carriage. I forgot something." Nicki turned away as Katy and Maria Anna opened the door. Yes, she felt guilty about palming the cookie from Maria Anna's basket. But they were just so good!

She was taking her second bite when she heard Katy scream.

Pistol. Bedroom. Shit! No time. She grabbed the tennis racquet off the table and charged out the door.

"Shut up, you whore!" Arthur said. "And stop struggling. You're coming back to England with me!" He turned to the woman with the basket in her arms. "And as for you, you American bitch…" He raised his wheellock pistol. A blur from the doorway made him turn and a woman with a cookie in her mouth and some kind of club in her hand came at him. He fired just as the club came down on his arm.

It took less than ten seconds for Sergeant Rodriguez to run from the square, but he was still out of breath when he arrived. "Are you all right, Your Majesty?"

The queen watched the large American woman chase the man down the street. "I'm fine, Sergeant. I don't think the man really intended to attack me. A case of mistaken identity, apparently. And his shot seems to have hit nothing but air."

She looked at the Englishwoman. What was her name? Ah, Boyle, Rogriguez thought.

"Was that your husband, Arthur, you mentioned?"

The Boyle woman nodded.

"Do you wish us to pursue him, Your Majesty?" Rodriguez asked. "I am sure the Brussels militia can find him."

The queen looked at Boyle, who shook her head. "I don't think that will be necessary, Sergeant."

Everyone turned as the American woman came back up the street. She had half a cookie in one hand and a tennis racquet in the other.

"I hit him at least three times, but he just kept running. Damn coward!"

The Boyle woman's eyes narrowed. "Nicki Jo Prickett, where did you get that cookie?"

"Cookie?" The American woman stuffed the remains of the cookie in her mouth. "What cookie?" she mumbled.

Three days. Three days they'd had to wait for the hue and cry to die down before George felt safe to walk the streets of Brussels with Arthur again.

Even a brigade and barony weren't enough to put up with this, as far as George was concerned.

"Over here, Arthur." In the twilight the fog was just beginning to make its way down the streets of Brussels. George pulled Arthur into the alley.

"We've got to get you out of Brussels, Arthur. The militia may not be after you, but there are a lot of people who think very highly of their new queen. Given the stories circulating right now, you'll be much safer in Antwerp."

Arthur hugged his right arm to his chest and nodded. "The damn bitch hit me! Three times! It still hurts like hell."

George covered his smile with his hand. "You're lucky she hit you, Arthur. If you'd shot the queen…" Boyle would have roasted me alive, that's for sure. As it is, there's only one way to make amends with him now.

"Here's enough silver for a month in Antwerp," George said. "I'll follow you there as soon as I can. Now head for the docks. Remember, you're looking for the boat named Santiago's Curse. Your belongings are already on board."

Arthur nodded. " Santiago's Curse. Thank you, George. I'll repay you, I promise."

George pushed him out into the street. "Now, go." He watched Arthur disappear into the fog toward the city's docks. Two shadows detached themselves from the wall as he stumbled past. One followed him.

The other turned toward George Goring. "This will cost you extra," James Fallows said.

"I know," Goring said. "Part payment Arthur has with him. A purse with silver coin. Just make it look like an accident."

"That will be no problem. Plenty of drunks fall in the river during festivals. Especially when we have a fog at night."

Fallows disappeared down the street.

George began to walk back towards the Inn of the Silver Swine.

"Now what is that supposed to mean?" Nicki asked, pointing towards the tableau vivant on their left.

Their carriage had stopped once again and Katherine Boyle waved to the crowds around them. The Joyous Entry of King Fernando and Queen Maria Anna into Brussels had so far been a slow but wonderful pageant and Katherine figured they had only an hour left to go before the procession ended. As usual, the carriages of the higher orders of Brussels society, including the foreign guests like themselves, brought up the rear.

"Oh come on, Nicki. Even you can figure that one out!"

Nicki nodded. "Okay, okay. The big guy in the center has to represent King Fernando. But what's with the hole in the tongue and all the gold chains attached to the women below? Looks pretty kinky if you ask me."

Katy repressed a sigh. She loved Nicki. She loved most of the Americans she had met in Grantville. But for a society built on the foundations of western civilization, their lack of knowledge was truly appalling.

" Typus Herculis Gallici," Katy said. "The man represents Hercules. So Fernando is being depicted as a new Hercules both in terms of mental agility and physical strength. But if you count the number of women, you'll see there are seventeen."

She waited for Nicki to remember, then prompted. "Seventeen?"

Nicki smiled. "Oh! The seventeen provinces of the Netherlands. So the chains represent…" Her forehead creased.

"The need for Fernando to win the loyalty of his new subjects with gentleness and kind words, and not force of arms," Katy said.

" Righhhht." Nicki sat back in the carriage as it lurched forward. "Did you get a chance to speak with Maria Anna about Arthur before the procession?"

"Of course. As far as they can determine, Arthur was drunk. He slipped and fell into the river down by the docks during the night fog two days ago. No evidence of foul play. So George's story checks out."

"Miss him?"

"Oh no. Just… he wasn't a evil man, really. Just a weak one."

Nicki patted her hand. "Well, don't think bad of me, but I'm glad he's dead. If that had been me carrying the basket instead of Maria Anna, I'd probably have died, since there would have been no one to smack him with a tennis racquet. Hey, does this mean you keep your title? You're still Viscountess Ranelagh?"

"And I will inherit his estate," Katy said, "according to George. It's not much, but there are several houses in London that are mine now. And with Arthur dead it will be much easier to make amends with my family. Oh, and before I forget, Maria Anna has agreed to give us a royal patent for the factory, with two stipulations."

Katherine began waving again to the crowd. "First, we have to name it 'Royal Maria's Cheese, Chocolate and Cookie Factory.' Both she and Fernando think the cookies will be a big seller. Second-and this comes directly from Fernando himself-we have to name the cookie with chipotle 'Ring of Fire.'"

Nicki laughed. "'Ring of Fire' cookies? Oh my God, we're going to sell millions of them!"