The Radiant War

Chapter 26a

     “Wombat, I presume?” said the Brigadier.

     The man was small and had an inconspicuous look to him. In a crowd, the Brigadier thought, you might glance at him and then immediately forget he existed as your attention drifted to the people around him. Only when standing alone, as he was now, did you notice him. He had mousy brown hair and a rather vacant look to his face as if no important thought had ever crossed his mind. When he moved, though, he did so with purpose and determination. He moved as if he had every right to be there and that anyone who questioned it would end up looking foolish. It made him the perfect infiltrator and the Brigadier nodded with approval. Private Grey also had an inconspicuous look to him in his civilian clothes. It was the Brigadier who would be the weak link on this mission, he knew. He was the one who stood out, who attracted attention with his noble, aristocratic bearing.

     Maybe I should sit this one out, he thought. Let Wombat and Grey make contact with the Princess. Get an update on her situation and receive orders while he remained behind. He dismissed the idea almost immediately. If they needed to extract the Princess, his fighting skills would be needed. They just had to think of a way to get him into the palace without his imperious grace giving them away.

     “And you're the Brigadier,” said the spy, coming forward and looking around to make sure they were alone. The rose garden was empty, though, except for a gardener fifty yards away, eho completely ignored them as he busily chopped weeds with a small hoe. “Princess Ardria is safe. She is being held in the guest quarters, immediately adjacent to the private rooms of the Royal family itself. There are guards everywhere. The Princess herself has her own guards, though, who do not mingle with the rest of the palace staff.”

     The spy spoke with a calm, emotionless voice totally without inflection or any change in tone. It was the kind of voice that might have issued from a machine, if machines could talk. A voice that seemed to slip right through the brain without making any impression upon it. It was a voice that could have announced the end of the world and been immediately forgotten by everyone who heard it.

     “Have you had a chance to speak to her?” asked the Brigadier.

     “The King allows no-one except her guards to speak to her, not even members of the Royal family. Even the maids and servants who normally clean and carry have been excluded. Nilon has apparently decided to let the dust gather for the duration of the Princess’s stay. Prince George has tried to speak to her many times and the King has refused even him. Nilon is being merciful to the Princess by doing this, I believe. Prince George is perfectly vile.”

     “So how do we get to her?” asked Private Grey.

     “There is no way to do so without risk. The least risk will be to wait until tonight, when most people will be asleep, and then just walk in as if we are entitled to do so, saying we are on the King’s business.”

     “I don't like the idea of waiting,” said the Brigadier, though. “Too much can happen in the meantime. How can we get to see her now?”

     “I have survived this long by taking no unnecessary risk...”

     “So I have noticed, but the time for caution has passed. We must risk all or lose all. How do we get to see her now?”

     The spy code-named Wombat looked deeply unhappy, but then he nodded. “You will be the biggest problem,” he said, looking the Brigadier up and down. “We have to find a way to hide you in plain sight. There may be a way. One of the King’s cousins, Dimitri, has deformed legs. An aberration that arose during his raising from a hunting hound.”

     “He's the one whose face is on the ten King note?” said Grey.

     The spy nodded. “He cannot walk and has to be transported in a wheelchair. If we sat you in a wheelchair and draped a shawl around your shoulders, your aristocratic bearing would not be so evident. He is smaller then you, which is a problem, but I've observed that people tend not to pay too much attention to cripples. They find them embarrassing. A sad comment on the human condition but one that we can put to good use now.” He looked at Private Grey. “And I can find a footman’s uniform to fit you, I think. That will get us to the eastern end of the south wing, at least. After that, we’ll have to play it by ear.”