Royal diplomacy diplomat.., p.10
Royal Diplomacy (Diplomat’s Apprentice Book 6), page 10
“That’s what I’m thinking also,” Veraz agreed. “We don’t need to start a revolution, after all. A simple protest in front of the palace would make a nice distraction once we determine how to get inside and free the hostages.”
“All right, then it’s time to check out the palace district.” Mark drank the last of the terrible coffee, tried to hide a grimace, and stood. He returned the cup to the counter and handed it to the middle-aged woman who had served it to them.
She was tall for an Estancian woman, nearly reaching Mark’s six feet. Her hair was pulled back in a scarf, but tendrils had worked their way loose. What he could see had once been dark but was now liberally sprinkled with gray. She was solidly built, with hazel eyes that gazed at him from a worried-looking face.
“Thought I heard you talking about the queen,” she mentioned.
“We’re just concerned about what’s happening at the palace,” Mark confided, leaning forward conspiratorially. “We hope the queen is safe, what with all the talk in the news about the League hostages and Juan Campos taking over the government.”
The woman leaned closer to Mark. Not for the first time, he was grateful he was often taken for a younger man and usually appeared trustworthy. “We get some of the palace guards here on their way home from work,” the woman confided. “Some of them are worried about Her Majesty as well.”
“Really?” Mark continued to look concerned, but he was grinning mentally. This was exactly the type of information they needed. The woman might turn out to be a goldmine.
“Some of them are such nice young men like you,” the woman continued. Mark smiled. “They say they haven’t seen Her Majesty since the minister of war took over.” She leaned over the counter and murmured, “They’re trying to say it’s because the League and Nuevo Havana will invade us. But the only people who came to the palace were four people my age. And two of them were women!”
Mark recalled that on Estancia, few women other than the queen held positions of power.
“Thanks. I know some of my friends are worried about Her Majesty as well.”
The woman nodded. “You come back here any time. You and your friend are always welcome.”
Mark knew tipping was unusual on Estancia. However, he offered the woman some of the local funds they carried. “I appreciate the great service.”
Her return smile was conspiratorial. “You’re not from around here, are you? You have more of a southern accent. Knowing more about the city and what’s going on can keep you safe.” She patted his hand in a motherly way.
They left the café after wrapping their cloaks tightly around them against the cold. It had begun to snow, so Mark pulled his hat closer around his ears. Veraz had needed to cover his pointed ears with his dark brown wig. The hat added to his ability to pass as a short Estancian. Like Rehan’s unmistakable Hrithain look, it would have been difficult to hide an Edetto without that additional ability to turn eyes away from him.
“Good job back there,” Veraz complimented. “I think we need to make that place a regular stop while researching this city. Maybe next time we should stop by when some palace guards show up.”
Mark nodded as they boarded public transport to the palace district.
While Shir-ella was doing her data research and Rehan was helping unload cargo, Anwyn settled in to check the local news feeds. Since she wasn’t supposed to be out of the ship to avoid being recognized, she felt it was important to learn as much as possible about what was happening in the capital.
Much of what she heard from the news feeds sounded as if it was filtered through government channels. Queen Arabella was doing fine, the crown prince was doing fine, and news of Arabella’s abdication in favor of her son Esteban was anticipated shortly. The holos of Esteban showed him standing next to the familiar figure of Juan Campos. Along with them was the man she recognized from their briefing as the current minister of war and a young man who was introduced as Campos’ son.
She contacted Shir-ella first, then they linked with Mark and Veraz, who were going to the palace district. “Were you aware that the news is predicting the queen's abdication? You might want to see how the locals feel about that,” Shir-ella added.
“Good catch,” Veraz complimented. “It will help to get a feel for local opinion about the queen.”
Anwyn sat back, wondering what to do next. She supposed she could go to the gym for an extra workout, but she wanted to be more involved with this job. She had grown discouraged watching news holograms.
She finally left the wardroom and went in search of Shan. Maybe she could help with cargo unloading. She knew the pirate planned to take his time before contracting for an outgoing cargo. They needed to remain on the surface long enough to free the hostages.
She located him in the cargo hold, talking with his second-in-command. He greeted her warmly. “What brings you down here?” He gave her a quizzical look.
“I’ve watched enough Estancian government ‘news’ holos.” She grinned. “Anything I can do to help out here?”
“Cargo’s all unloaded, but I’m taking some of the crew to a port bar in a while. Since it’s inside the port, I doubt anyone from the government is likely to see you there. Want to see if Shir-ella, Drew, and your big Hrithain friend would like to join us?”
“How are you going to get a Hrithain into an Estancian port bar without all hell breaking loose?” she asked dubiously.
“It’s the port. Even Hrithain are sometimes crew on cargo ships.” He smiled. “Let’s go see what Shir-ella has to say.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Angharad, Glynnis, Carpenter, Arabella, and Gregory spent a long time discussing their next steps after discovering the door. From the first, they placed someone on watch around the clock. With five of them, they decided taking turns would work.
It soon became apparent that standing watch was more efficient if there were always two people. Their absence also needed to be covered, except for night watch. Anyone not on door guard was tasked with keeping the rest of the hostages from noticing what they were up to.
Their next decision was to determine where the passage outside the door led. Arabella knew the palace better than anyone else, but it had been a long time since she wandered the servants’ corridors. They decided to do some reconnaissance before attempting an escape.
They listened for any noise outside the door during each shift, then cracked it open to check the corridor. The next step was walking down it. Turning right led them toward the hallway with the suite’s main door.
The other direction was more promising. There were three more doors leading off the passage, one in the wall on their side and two on the opposite wall. All three were locked, and their key didn’t fit them. Angharad would have liked to know where they led but ignored the problem for the time being.
The servants’ hallway ended at a cross corridor where they could go right or left. Left led them behind their suite. Again, there were a few other doors on the same side as the suite. The other side was a blank wall, and Gregory thought it might be the outer wall of this portion of the palace.
If they turned right at that end of their corridor, it led them past more doors but ended in a staircase that went up and down. There was a discussion about who would make the first attempt to find where the stairs went. Although Arabella was unhappy with the decision, she agreed to remain in the suite in case Campos wanted to speak to her. Gregory knew the palace better than the other three, so he was selected as one of the two to explore the staircase.
Carpenter was still healing, so Angharad accompanied the prince consort. Carpenter remained by the door to warn them in case Campos visited. Glynnis stood down the corridor near the stairs in case they had gone too far to hear Carpenter give them a warning. With everyone in place, Angharad and Gregory set out.
They began carefully, walking slowly and silently down the passage. They turned right at the T-junction and reached the stairs.
“Up or down?” Angharad asked.
“Down seems to offer the most possibilities for escape,” Gregory murmured.
They listened carefully for any sounds but heard nothing nearby. Faint noises came from farther down the stairs. They took the steps one step at a time, pausing on each in case they needed to retreat. The last thing they wanted was for anyone to discover they had access to leave their suite.
The voices and other sounds still seemed far away, so they proceeded down the stairs. There was no handrail, and the entire staircase was enclosed. They reached a landing that matched the one on their floor. They took a quick look at that floor, finding a set of narrow corridors that looked identical to the ones on their floor. They continued down, finally reaching a door at the end of the stairs. They stopped to listen and glanced at each other, hesitant to continue.
Angharad drew a deep breath. “Open it a tiny bit?” she whispered.
Gregory nodded and reached for the door handle. The ancient handle turned to release the latch. The door opened outward so moving it even a sliver might attract notice. He had placed his hand on the handle when they heard footsteps approaching. They both froze in place as the footsteps neared, then continued past. Angharad let out her breath slowly. They listened for conversation on the other side but heard nothing.
Gregory turned the handle, and both heard the soft click as the latch disengaged. When there was no response to that tiny noise, he edged the door open enough to see a wall a little more than a meter from where they stood.
“Another corridor?” Angharad murmured.
“Looks like. I don’t hear anything now.”
“Time to take the next step, then.” She motioned for him to open the door wider.
He edged it open farther, and they both looked in each direction, then he closed the door.
Angharad thought about what they had seen. The door opened into another corridor. It went about ten meters on the right, ending at another door. She had counted at least three doors along the sides of the passage. To the left, it went only a few meters before ending in an arch to a room. Angharad wasn’t sure what the room was used for, but it contained unfamiliar machinery.
“I know where we are now,” Gregory told her once he shut the door. “We’re behind the main palace kitchens.” He waved toward the left. “Beyond that room is where the cooking takes place for the entire palace. The state dining room would be to the left of that room, storage to the right.”
He paused, and his expression was more cheerful than she had seen since they first became hostages. “Past the storage room is a door that opens to the outside. It’s where food supplies come in, and garbage gets sent out.”
She smiled at him. “We have an exit. Let’s go tell the others.”
Before they could turn to go back up the stairs, they heard a raucous cry behind them. Leo was on his way down the stairs, greeting them loudly. Gregory’s eyes widened with worried surprise.
“Shush, Leo,” he whispered.
Angharad’s heart rate increased. The last thing they needed was to be discovered now. The cat only paused at the foot of the stairs, then disappeared into a narrow space between the wall and the door. She shared a surprised look with Gregory.
“So that’s how he’s been getting out,” he whispered.
“Yes, but how is he getting in and out of the suite upstairs?” she questioned.
It was snowing lightly before Mark and Veraz reached the palace district. Public transportation, in this case an old but well-maintained maglev elevated train, got them nearly to the palace’s outer gates. Along the way, they saw homes and businesses that were close-packed but well-kept. Closer to the palace were government buildings, according to their briefings.
The train’s terminus was a vast public square. One full side of the square was a wall that surrounded this portion of the palace. The opposite side held several large, ornate government buildings. The other two sides consisted of smaller buildings with shops and eateries. The square contained multiple small stands that sold food and souvenirs. Most were shut down this close to evening, but a few were still doing a little business.
“Let’s check out the stands first since they’ll probably close soon,” Veraz suggested.
“One still has people in line,” Mark agreed. “We might learn something.”
Veraz nodded as Mark led the way toward the closest stand. It was on wheels, and Mark guessed the owner probably moved it to a secure location overnight. More like a food wagon than a stand, he realized. The front appeared to be a small cockpit for driving the vehicle, while the rear had a narrow door. There was room inside for a small group of people to stand. Steam rose from a small opening in its roof. The scent of whatever they were cooking reminded Mark that he’d eaten little since breakfast. The unappetizing coffee earlier had done nothing to ease his hunger.
They stepped inside, and steamy warmth enveloped them. A man stood behind a counter at the far end of an open area. Behind him, another man was cooking something on an open grill. Whatever was cooking gave off the appetizing odor of meat and some type of spice and was appealing after a day of walking around in the cold.
Mark glanced at Veraz, who nodded. His friend and partner was also hungry. Mark walked to the counter, taking a spot in the line behind two men. One was dressed in a similar style to Veraz and himself. The other man wore a cloak over a uniform. Their briefing helped Mark to identify him as a palace staff member.
The food wagon had more recent technology than the café they visited earlier in the day. The food selections glowed holographically above the counter.
Their briefing had covered this. They knew the names of the most common street foods in the capital. If they hadn’t, Shir-ella could have supplied that information through their link. When his turn came, Mark had no trouble asking for the spiced meat cooking on the grill. It was served wrapped in thin circular bread with a liberal addition of spicy sauce on top.
There was only one table within the food wagon, so he sat beside the other two men while Veraz ordered his food. This time the drink that came with the food was herbal and slightly spicy, which went well with the food. It was too hot to drink quickly, and he sipped it between bites of the food. It had been too cold outside for someone who spent much of his time in the controlled environments of a starship or space station.
“You must be from the south,” the man in uniform commented in a conversational tone.
Mark nodded. “I am, but what made you think that?”
“You’re cold. Anyone from around here would see this as a reasonably warm winter day.”
Mark nodded a second time. “I’m not as used to this weather.” His “I’m not from around here” accent was holding. They had agreed to this role so asking questions would sound natural.
Veraz joined them, and all four men concentrated on their food. Mark enjoyed the flavors and was fortunately comfortable with highly spiced food. After a few bites, he asked the uniformed man, “Do you work at the palace?”
The man suddenly looked less friendly. “I’m an under clerk. I help handle palace accounts.” He sounded like he regretted saying anything.
Mark shook his head. “We had hoped to see the queen’s anniversary parade while we were in town.” This event would have taken place the following week, celebrating the twelfth year of the queen’s reign.
“Yeah, not much chance of that,” the other man commented. “Looks like there’ll be a new anniversary soon. We’re gonna have us a king again.” He sounded pleased by that.
The palace clerk nodded, but Mark thought it looked hesitant. That was interesting. Mark glanced at Veraz and guessed they had the same thought. Could they manage to speak to this man alone?
The person behind the counter announced that the wagon would close shortly, which made sense. A glance out the windows showed the square was nearly empty, and it was dusk. The snowfall was heavier. Mark hurriedly finished his meal. Veraz was nearly finished as well. They had a stroke of luck when the non-uniformed man stood, called goodbye to the two food workers, and left. Mark didn’t like the glance the man gave them over his shoulder.
He leaned forward and spoke softly to the palace clerk. “Do you agree with him? Will things be better under a new king?”
The man refused to meet Mark’s eyes. He left part of his meal on the table and stood to leave. Mark glanced again at Veraz, who nodded and stood. Mark called “Thank you” to the two men cleaning up their cooking space. He joined Veraz and the palace clerk as they stepped out into what was becoming a blinding gale.
“Do you have far to go?” Veraz asked the man in a friendly tone.
“Not far. I live in palace housing. It’s just a short distance from here.” The man walked faster. Mark couldn’t determine whether it was to get away from these strangers or get out of the snow.
“Can you recommend a place for a quiet drink before we head back to our lodgings?” Veraz asked cheerfully.
“Well, there’s the place many of the palace workers visit. It’s in the street just beyond those buildings.” The man pointed. “I wouldn’t stay there long if I was you. Public transportation can shut down if the wind gets too strong.”
“We’d be happy to buy you a drink if you show us the way,” Mark offered.
The man seemed hesitant but agreed to accompany them to what turned out to be exactly what Veraz had asked for. It was a quiet place that catered to those seeking a peaceful place for a quiet drink with friends. Mark mentally compared it to the Pirate’s Regret, a loud spacer bar in the city of Open Port. He decided there were pleasant aspects to both places, each in its way.
During the walk to the place that called itself a lounge, Veraz asked casual questions about the city that had nothing to do with the royal family or the palace. By the time the three of them were seated at a quiet table, the man was far less guarded. Mark and Veraz behaved like out-of-towners visiting on business who wanted to see the capital's sights.
