The Dog of the North (41 page)

King Fanrolio’s Council at this time consisted of a small group of influential figures: General Virnesto, responsible for the Winter Armies; the Lord of Equity Gionardo,
the Chamberlain Osvergario (represented during his indisposition by the Under-Chamberlain Davanzato) and, for the development of his statecraft, Prince Brissio. As groups of advisers went, it was
not considered either unusually corrupt or unusually inept, a judgement perhaps as telling on expectations of probity and competence as on the capabilities of the persons involved.

Beauceron and Monetto were escorted before this group by two footmen, and made the necessary obeisances. Beauceron looked around the room and saw little sympathy for his projects. Davanzato was
an enemy, Brissio both stupid and malicious. Virnesto was fair-minded but not a man to wink at a treason trial, and Gionardo had not looked on Mon-grissore’s legalisms in good part. Still, he
was at least here before the King.

Fanrolio cleared his throat. ‘Welcome, Beauceron. Davanzato, can you remind us why the captain is before us this morning?’

‘He wishes to raise again the topic of the invasion of Croad, Your Puissance.’

Fanrolio peered at Beauceron. ‘You were accused of treason against us less than a month ago.’

Beauceron inclined his head. ‘All present will remember that I was acquitted. I desire nothing more than to bring glory to the Winter Court by taking the city of Croad for
Mettin-gloom.’

Fanrolio frowned. ‘Did we not consider this very matter last year?’

Your Puissance is acute,’ said Davanzato, sitting back and steepling his fingers. ‘On this occasion Beauceron has additional arguments to deploy.’

‘Is that so, Beauceron?’ asked the King, coughing into a lace handkerchief.

Your Puissance, my reasoning remains essentially the same as last year. However, I have been fortunate in my plunder during the summer season, and propose to finance the invasion myself, in the
hope of recouping the sum from pillage of the city.’

‘Captain,’ said Virnesto, ‘Prince Brissio did not sit on this council last year. Perhaps you would care to outline your proposals.’

‘With pleasure, General. The prevailing wisdom within Mettingloom is that the city of Croad is impregnable. This assumption is rarely challenged and is based, in so far as it can be said
to have a basis, on the defeat suffered by the Summer King at Jehan’s Steppe, an event which took place thirteen years ago.

‘It is my contention that the popular view is wrong. The ability of Croad to withstand a siege is untested; Tardolio’s army never reached the city walls.’

Lord Gionardo interrupted. ‘Is there any reason to believe that your army would be able to forge so far south?’

‘Tardolio’s army made significant tactical errors, most importantly in dividing its cavalry. This meant that Thaume’s smaller force never had to withstand a full cavalry
onslaught. Lord Thaume was also fortunate in the exceptional quality of his commanders: Thaume himself, Artingaume, Langlan, Darrien. Only Langlan survives. Oricien has not the flair of his father.
My belief is that he will not ride out to meet an army. He will prefer to sit behind the walls of Croad and wait for aid to come from either Trevarre or Enguerran. His policy has been to build
alliances, not armies. He will not commit his forces to a battle in the North when defeat would leave Croad unprotected.’

Virnesto nodded. ‘Your analysis is not implausible. However, Croad is a walled city. If it expects relief from the South, it will not fall easily.’

‘I know the fortifications of Croad well. They are not impregnable. We will have weeks rather than months before help arrives, but I am confident that the city will fall in that period.
Monetto has brought diagrams for improved siege engines which will throw larger rocks faster and more accurately.’

‘The cost of such machines will not be trivial,’ said Gionardo.

‘It is a cost I meet myself. There will be no drain on the Treasury.’

Virnesto scratched his chin. ‘You are an unparalleled field commander, Beauceron. Your reputation is well earned. However, you have never, to my knowledge, commanded a siege. The
discipline is different to the harassment and bravado which characterize your raiding strategy.’

Beauceron gave a harsh smile. ‘You speak to me of discipline, sir? I have waited long years for this opportunity; I have denied myself the pleasures of my wealth, the softness of easy
living, the favours of beautiful women. Do you think I would waste my toil in an assault on walls before they were broken? My lust for revenge is strong, but it is cool. You may have no fears on
that score.’

Prince Brissio broke in. ‘I say you are not to be trusted. You schemed and plotted against my father the King. What is our guarantee that you will hand over the city once it falls? You may
shut yourself behind its walls and call yourself the Lord of Croad.’

‘My lord, only an imbecile would consider such a course. The walls of the city will have been compromised and a sizeable army from the South will be on the way. No adventurer could hold
the city.’

Davanzato spoke for the first time. ‘Prince Brissio’s observations bring us to a profound point. Your plans are based solely on the events leading up to the city’s capture.
Virnesto will be best placed to advise on the robustness of these plans. No attention, however, has been given to outcomes following the city’s fall.

‘How, for example, will you hold the city once Enguerran marches north? And what of his inevitable reprisals as he brings his army to Mettingloom? Next summer, at the latest, the army of
Emmen will sit on the shore of our lagoon. Or is your prowess so extreme that you expect to destroy the flower of his army in the field with your own invasion force? You still have many questions
to answer.’

‘Do you believe,’ asked Beauceron, ‘that any force marching from the Emmenrule can take Mettingloom? Enguerran will not come in winter; there will be no food for his
gallumphers, or his men. If he comes in summer, he can harry the shore as he chooses, but he has no means of taking the lagoon.’

‘What if he allies with the Garganets?’ asked Brissio. ‘Their galleys are strong.’

‘Galleys are ineffective in our choppy northern waters. Our cogs would destroy them; and Garganet will not wish to boost Enguerran’s pride.’

‘Do you suggest,’ asked Virnesto, ‘that Enguerran will sit at home and bear the loss of Croad with equanimity? If so, you are a poor judge of character.’

Beauceron smiled and shook his head. ‘I think the opposite; Enguerran cannot accept the rebuke. He will march north with all the men at his command. He may come next summer, or he may wait
and come the year after, once he has prepared. I think he lacks the patience to wait. When he finds Croad has fallen, he will move north with his relief army, and think to deal with Croad on his
return.’

Lord Gionardo frowned. ‘You present the certainty of invasion as a boon.’

‘Exactly so, my lord. Enguerran’s pride, his folly, his over-confidence will send him forth with his Immaculates to chastise our city. He will arrive in the summer, and find Tardolio
before him. How will Tardolio deal with the threat?’

There was silence as the Council tried to assess how Tardolio would respond.

‘He will sally forth!’ declared Prince Brissio.

‘I think not,’ said Beauceron. ‘He lacks the stomach for a fight.’

‘In his position,’ said Virnesto, ‘I would wait Enguerran out. He cannot starve us, for he lacks the fleet to blockade the lagoon; he cannot take the city by assault, because
once again he lacks the naval power to do so. Enguerran will ride up and down the shore, harassing the lords’ estates until it occurs to him that he cannot win. Then he will turn south to set
about reducing Croad.’

Beauceron beamed and nodded. ‘You show potential as a strategist, General. Tardolio will not ride out to meet Enguerran, because it would be folly to do so.’

Fanrolio frowned. ‘I do not understand the point you are making.’

‘Simply this: Prince Laertio will wish to fight; the Lords of the Shore will be vexed, to say the least, at the devastation of their estates. Tardolio will be correct not to fight, but he
will look timid, and his stature will sink. When the winter comes around, who will be the beneficiary?’ He paused. ‘The Winter Court, of course. Tardolio will be isolated within the
Summer Court and Enguerran will have slunk away in frustration. How you follow up that advantageous situation is a question for your own judgement.’

Fanrolio smiled slowly and nodded. ‘Your points are most interesting, Beauceron. We will need to reflect on them a while.’

Beauceron bowed. ‘I ask no more, Your Puissance. There is, however, another matter I wish to bring to your attention.’ From the corner of his eyes he looked at Davanzato. ‘I
have recently engaged the services of an excellent apothecary, who I hope will travel south with us. However, I have heard of the travails of your own health, and wonder if I might send the man to
recommend a regimen for your chest. Such things should not be neglected.’

Davanzato looked at Beauceron with raised eyebrows and a flush to his cheek. ‘Surely, Your Puissance, your own apothecaries cannot be improved upon. Carledo is skilled and
seasoned.’

‘I grow no younger, Davanzato. Beauceron, let your man wait upon me. If he is a charlatan, I shall send him back.’

Beauceron bowed again. ‘As you say, Your Puissance. He waits outside, if it pleases you.’

Fanrolio nodded. ‘Very well. Monetto, will you bring him in?’

Monetto looked at Beauceron. Davanzato caught the glance. ‘Your Puissance—’

Fanrolio waved an irritated hand. ‘Not now, Davanzato. I wish to hear no further objections. May I not seek health?’

‘But—’

‘Enough.’

Seconds later Monetto stepped back into the room, followed by Mongrissore and Quinto in his green and white apothecary’s cape. Beauceron, who was watching intently, saw Davanzato sag in
his chair. His olive complexion blanched. ‘Your Puissance,’ he said. ‘I am indisposed. You must excuse me.’

Beauceron gave a wry smile. ‘Fortunately an apothecary is on hand. You need not depart.’

Fanrolio peered at Quinto. ‘You are welcome, sir. Beauceron speaks highly of your healing skills.’

Quinto looked at the ground and mumbled.

Beauceron interjected. ‘Your Puissance, matters would go more expeditiously if the good Quinto were allowed to make a statement before we proceed to a consultation.’

Fanrolio’s expression of puzzlement deepened. Quinto gave Beauceron a plaintive look. Davanzato made as if to rise; Monetto moved towards the door to prevent his exit.

‘I am come before the Council,’ said Quinto in a faltering voice, ‘to confess to my wicked deeds. I have been suborned from my oath of healing to do great wrong.’

Davanzato gave a brassy laugh. ‘What buffoonery is this? The man is clearly addled in his wits. If every man who had beaten his wife confessed before the King, he would have no time to
rule the realm.’

‘I think we must hear this,’ said Lord Gionardo. ‘I sense this is more than a casual blow against a pert wife.’

‘Thank you, my lord,’ said Quinto. ‘I am the apothecary who has been treating the indisposition of the Chamberlain.’

Fanrolio’s eyes rose in surprise. ‘How does good Osver-gario?’

‘My lord, his malady was never as severe as you had believed. At the instigation of Under-Chamberlain Davanzato, I administered herbs which kept him prostrated. Sirs, in simple language I
poisoned him.’

Virnesto rose from his seat. ‘This cannot be!’

Brissio’s hand went to his belt, before he remembered that swords were not worn in the King’s presence.

‘The man is a lunatic!’ cried Davanzato. ‘He should be whipped for his impudence.’

King Fanrolio spoke slowly. ‘Davanzato, we will hear no more from you for now. Master Quinto, please continue.’

‘The Chamberlain fell sick four years ago, and Davanzato asked me to attend him. I confirmed that his illness, a griping of the guts, was transitory and brought on by simple gluttony. This
news did not please Davanzato. By one indirection and another he insinuated that he would be grateful if Osvergario’s recovery were deferred, perhaps indefinitely. There was talk of money
and, good sirs, my affairs were not well-placed.’ He stood slightly taller. ‘I said that under no circumstances would I kill the Chamberlain. Davanzato said that was very well, since he
did not wish him dead. “Chronic incapacitation” was the term he used. I came to understand that by this method Davanzato would enjoy all of the powers of the Chamberlain’s post;
if Osvergario died, the King would appoint a new Chamberlain, who would not be Davanzato.’

He fell silent. The weight become oppressive for Quinto, who added: ‘I am most heartily sorry, my lords. I never imagined that I would need to continue for four years. I asked Davanzato to
stop long ago; he told me that exposure would mean my death, and he was not yet minded to change his policies. You may do as you will with me.’

‘Where is the proof!’ said Davanzato in a flat rapid voice. ‘This is the rambling of a halfwit.’

‘My lords, there is proof aplenty,’ said Mongrissore. ‘We know the herbs Quinto acquired, and the uses to which he put them. We have found the medicines he keeps for
Osvergario, and tested them upon an unfortunate dog, now dead.’

‘My agency cannot be inferred!’ shouted Davanzato.

‘If it please Your Puissance,’ said Beauceron, ‘I would bring another man before you.’

Fanrolio scratched his pate. ‘The room is scarcely big enough for your drama, Beauceron. Nonetheless, proceed if you wish.’

Beauceron nodded at Monetto, who stepped from the room once again. There was an audible gasp – from Davanzato perhaps – as he re-entered, with Lady Cosetta and, leaning on her arm, a
frail-seeming elderly man.

‘Osvergario!’ exclaimed Fanrolio.

The Chamberlain essayed an inflexible bow. ‘Your Puissance, I have been away too long. I am ready to resume my duties.’

Davanzato gave a tinny laugh. ‘Osvergario, I am delighted to see you in such good health. I had been given to understand your condition was grave. I gladly relinquish my temporary
duties!’