‘Not quite two days,’ Caroline said. Her reserve slipped a little. ‘You were quite undone by your spell casting.’
‘Holmland reports have been intercepted,’ George said. ‘They’re trumpeting the fact that the Chancellor has been at the front. They’re trying to make it into a propaganda coup.’
Caroline tapped him on the shoulder. ‘The file in your satchel, Aubrey, the one Hugo gave you. We handed it to General Apsley and his staff. The photographs have helped confirm that the Chancellor and the members of the Central Staff were on the Holmland front lines.’
Aubrey was relieved. The file had been important in his spell making, but he was glad it was continuing to be useful.
‘The best news is that the whole mobilisation at Fremont has stopped,’ Sophie said.
‘Forces were being devoted to keeping the Chancellor safe, I suspect,’ Aubrey said, relieved more than triumphant. ‘Until he was able to leave without appearing cowardly.’
‘Reinforcements have started arriving from Lutetia and Albion,’ Sophie said. ‘It doesn’t matter if the Holmlanders regroup now, we are ready for them.’
‘You bought time, Aubrey.’ Caroline patted his pyjamaed shoulder and left her hand there. He covered it with one of his.
‘And now it’s time to get me out of here,’ he said. ‘Wherever here is.’
‘We’re on the outskirts of Divodorum,’ Caroline said, ‘well away from the front.’
‘I venture that this isn’t a military hospital. How did I get here?’
‘That would be my doing,’ came a voice from the doorway.
Aubrey stared. ‘Bertie!’
Caroline, George and Sophie snapped to attention. Prince Albert made a face and closed the door behind him. ‘Oh, please don’t. Sit, all of you. I’ve had enough of that sort of thing this last week to last me a lifetime.’
Prince Albert was in the uniform of Colonel in Chief of the Crown Prince’s Light Infantry Regiment, his own. Aubrey thought the green went well with Bertie’s dark features, and his slimness set off the jacket very neatly.
The prince took off his cap and drew up a chair. He smiled at Sophie, after she and George had sat and Caroline had resumed her station on the bed. ‘Miss Delroy, is it not?’ he said in Gallian. ‘I have been following your exploits with great interest. Your piece in the latest Sentinel was excellent. It’s rallied Gallian spirits most splendidly.’
Sophie coloured delightfully and responded in the same language. ‘I do not know what to say, your highness.’ She paused and looked at George, switching to Albionish. ‘Your highness. Is that correct, George?’
The prince laughed. ‘“Bertie” is perfectly acceptable, Miss Delroy, at least in this room. I believe all four of you have earned the right to some familiarity, considering what you’ve achieved in the last few months.’ He frowned at Aubrey. ‘Now, Aubrey, malingering again?’
‘Just practising, Bertie, in case I ever need to infiltrate a Holmland military hospital. I’ll be up in a minute.’
‘That’s what I wanted to hear. I don’t want to pin a medal to your pyjamas. Most undignified.’
‘Medal?’
‘Apparently I have one for each of you, but they’ll probably have to wait, your mission’s being top secret and all that. For now, I want to hear everything.’
Aubrey and his friends looked at each other. ‘Where do we start?’ he said.
‘Start after the Stalsfrieden factory fire. I have reports of events after that, but they’re so spotty I could use them as a leopard suit. Fill in the details, if you would.’
Telling the heir to the thrones of Albion and Gallia about their adventures became so much like old times that Aubrey almost forgot where they were. Caroline, Sophie and George all butted in, correcting his account, taking over, handing it from one to the other and laughing at the prince’s astonishment. Sophie was hesitant to begin with but, heartened by the others, she even managed to groan at one of Prince Albert’s execrable puns about firearms and finding people of the right calibre.
The tone of the recounting became more sombre as they came to describing the events at the front, and Aubrey hoped that Bertie was taking this in. The front was no joking matter. The prince grew more and more angry when they described the hardships of the trenches, and Aubrey thought it was anger most well directed.
After Caroline narrated the last episode – sensibly, as Aubrey had no idea about how she’d dug him out of the collapsed trench, de-peached him and then organised a squad to carry him to medical aid – Bertie sat back, thinking.
‘You’ve done a fine thing, all of you. A touch reckless, Aubrey, but effective.’ He put his hands together. ‘I like to think our generals are a little more aware of what they’re sending our soldiers into than the Holmlanders, but am I deluding myself? Perhaps I should recommend that all members of our High Command must visit the front, and do so regularly. In fact, I’ve a mind to do so myself since I’m so close.’
‘Begging your pardon, Bertie,’ George said, ‘I don’t think you’d be let within ten miles of the front. You’re too valuable.’
The prince grimaced. ‘They do say that, don’t they? I had enough trouble getting this far.’
‘Which makes me ask,’ Aubrey said, ‘what exactly are you doing here, Bertie?’
‘I’m doing my bit.’ The prince hesitated and he turned his cap over in his hands a few times. ‘I wanted to do something, you see. Even figureheads can, was my thinking.’
‘You’re far from a figurehead.’ Aubrey knew how much work Bertie had done in the last few years. Ever since his father had grown incapable of fulfilling the role of king, Bertie had taken on many of his ceremonial roles as well as the tedious bureaucratic roles. Even though the public knew the King was ill, Aubrey was sure they had no idea how ill – thanks to Bertie’s work.
‘I appreciate that, Aubrey, but I decided a gesture or two could be important. So I decided to leave Trinovant and to rally the troops. And the alliance.’ He nodded to Sophie. ‘You’re aware that the alliance with Gallia has been coming under some pressure?’
‘It is true,’ Sophie said. ‘My father said that many people are unhappy about the war. They think that Albion is using Gallia as a wall to stop the Holmlanders. And there are others who are unhappy with the way we are governed. They want a king.’
‘Gallian royalists, in this day and age. I can’t believe it,’ Bertie said, without any hint of irony. He picked at the braid on his cap. ‘You forgot to mention the Gallians who are horrified by such a possibility.’
‘Gallia is used to political unrest,’ Sophie said, ‘but it is a bad time for such things.’
‘So you decided to shore up support with a goodwill tour,’ Aubrey said to Bertie.
‘A little more than that, actually.’ Prince Albert hesitated a little and straightened his tie before going on. ‘I took the Gallian Crown Jewels with me to Lutetia and reunited them with the Heart of Gold. After that I read an official document to the Gallian assembly, declining our claim to the vacant throne and promising that our family would never pursue it.’
Aubrey had survived a few bombshells in recent times, but he still hadn’t grown used to them. Especially not when dropped in his own bedroom.
Caroline recovered first. ‘And how was this received in Gallia?’
‘Barely restrained relief is the best way I’d describe it. As Miss Delroy noted, it’s a bad time to be arguing about such things. My quashing any possibility of an Albionite reclaiming the throne of Gallia was the best solution.’ He chuckled. ‘They held a banquet to commemorate this important occasion, but I think the unanticipated nature of my announcement caught them rather on the hop. They couldn’t find the state silver to serve the dinner on and had to borrow some ancient gold plate from the sisters at the Cathedral of Our Lady.’
Aubrey’s curiosity jabbed him. ‘The Gallian state silver is missing?’
‘Stolen, someone said, but the president told me that it had been sold. Silver prices have been going through the roof. He’d ordered that the state silver be sold and the proceeds put into the war effort, to show that the government was serious about sacrifice.’