‘Where did you hear that? I was only told this morning.’
‘Word gets around.’ His head remained buried in the bushes. ‘Who’s going altogether, then?’
Richard, Victoria and I had agreed to attend the match, largely because we all knew the captain of the team, whose father was an old friend of the family. I told Bevan as much.
‘If I was you,’ he said, ‘I’d give it a miss.’
He delved even deeper into the bushes.
‘Why?’ I said.
‘Might not be safe.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘There’s rumours going round.’
I was talking to his backside. ‘Bevan, come out of there!’
With a certain amount of grunting and muttered curses, he waddled backwards out of the rosebeds. Leaves and cuttings clung to his grey nylon sweater.
‘What’s going on?’ I demanded.
‘I picked up a whisper that something might be planned for the occasion, if you get my drift.’
‘What sort of thing?’
‘Something nasty. Violent, like.’
‘Are you suggesting we might be in danger?’
‘You might be killed. The lot of you.’
He spoke in a perfectly matter-of-fact way, as if we were discussing something quite innocuous.
‘How?’ I asked.
‘Couldn’t say for certain. But I reckon it’s not going to be safe for anyone there.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘Take my word for it.’
He removed half a cigarette from behind his ear and lit it.
‘Bevan, you have to tell me how you know.’
‘A little bird told me.’
‘How can I trust you if I don’t know where you’re getting your information from?’
He shrugged. ‘Up to you, isn’t it? But if it was me, I’d give you the benefit of the doubt, considering that my life might be at stake.’
I sighed. ‘Who are they hoping to get? Tetzahuitl, or the whole lot of us?’
‘You think they give a damn one way or the other?’
Richard was in the living room with his household staff, watching an old black-and-white programme on his wide-screen TV.
I shooed the servants out so that I could speak to him alone.
‘We need to talk,’ I said through the noise of the programme.
‘Can’t it wait?’ he replied. ‘I’m watching this.’
He was intent on the screen. Zozo the masked Mexica swordsman was furthering the Aztec cause in eighteenth-century California by dispatching inept English militiamen, courtesy of Mexsat TV.
‘Something’s cropped up,’ I said. ‘I don’t think we’ll be able to go to Lords tomorrow.’
‘What’s happened, Kate? I was looking forward to it.’
On the screen, barrels were rolling and crashing around a wine cellar as Zozo evaded the attentions of a trio of lumbering Caucasian swordsmen. Richard always liked to have the volume turned right up, which I found useful on this occasion since it meant that no one could possibly overhear us.
‘Will you promise me you’ll keep what I say to you a secret?’
He looked intrigued. ‘Of course, Kate.’
‘It might be dangerous to go to Lords. We might all be killed.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Promise me you won’t say anything to anyone else?’
‘I promise.’
‘I think someone’s going to plant a bomb there.’
He digested this for a moment, his eyes flickering back only briefly to the screen.
‘Are you playing a joke, Kate?’
‘It’s no joke, Richard.’
‘They want to blow us all up?’
‘Not us in particular, I don’t think. But the Aztecs. The cihuacoatl especially, I expect.’
‘That’s not very nice.’
I said nothing to this.
‘Who are they?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘We’ll have to tell Extepan.’
No,’ I said firmly, not entirely surprised by this. ‘You must remember the Aztecs are our enemies, Richard. You have to expect our people to try to find ways of striking back at them.’
‘Innocent people will be killed, won’t they?’
‘Most probably,’ I admitted.
‘That isn’t fair.’
‘It wasn’t fair that they invaded us in the first place, was it? Some of our people are never going to accept that.’
‘I think you should tell Extepan, Kate.’
‘No. I can’t.’
‘It would be cowardly of us to stay away and let them walk into a trap.’
‘They’re our enemies,’ I repeated. ‘They’re occupying our country. They attacked us and killed many of our people.’
‘At least it was a fair fight.’
‘Hardly fair, since the invasion was unprovoked. And don’t you think that innocent people didn’t die in the fighting? If we warn them, we’ll be collaborating, betraying the people who still believe in our freedom.’
Again Richard thought about this while Zozo sword-slashed his initial on a stuccoed fort wall before galloping away into a monochrome sunset.
‘I’m going to go to the match, anyway,’ he said. ‘They won’t do it if I’m there.’
‘You’re foolish if you think that,’ I said gently. ‘They almost certainly will.’
‘But I’m their King.’
‘That won’t make any difference. They’ll see you as a traitor.’
‘Then I’ll just have to die, won’t I?’
‘That’s even more foolish. What purpose would it serve?’
‘I don’t know, Kate. But that’s what I’m going to do.’
I gripped his arm. ‘Use your head. Do you want to be a martyr? Is that what you want?’
‘I can’t let them frighten me off.’
‘They’re on our side, Richard. Fighting for our people.’
‘There might be women and children there. How can people let children be killed?’
I almost said that he was a child himself. His eyes were wet at the thought, but at the same time he looked stubborn and determined.
‘We can’t do anything to stop it,’ I said urgently as the closing credits rolled with a crescendo of warped and tinny brass. ‘It’s going to happen whether we like it or not.’
‘It’s wrong, Kate. I think it’s wrong. If they’re going to do it, they’ll have to blow me up, too. That’s my final word.’
I went directly to Victoria’s suite. Chantico, her lady-in-waiting, told me that she had gone out for the evening.
‘Where?’ I asked.
‘I don’t know,’ she replied. ‘Out with friends.’
From Bevan, I already knew that Victoria had taken to frequenting nightclubs and casinos with other members of what was termed the New Court – bright young things, mostly Aztec, who preferred the attractions of the West End to the duties and responsibilities of their positions.
I sat up into the small hours, waiting for her to return. Finally I fell asleep and woke with the dawn.
Again I went to her suite. A bleary Chantico admitted me. Her mistress was not yet back.
‘She is sometimes gone all night,’ Chantico told me. ‘She stays with friends.’
‘Where?’
She shook her head.
Chantico was a timid and courteous Navajo, and I knew she was both loyal and easy to bully.
‘I insist you tell me where she is!’ I said fiercely.
‘I don’t know,’ she assured me. ‘She never tells me where she’s going. She says it’s for security reasons.’
‘This is urgent! Vital! It goes beyond any personal loyalties you might have towards her!’
‘Please.’ She was close to tears now. ‘You have my word of honour. I don’t know!’