A: I thought about it. I decided not to, directly.
W: Well, perhaps you should, directly. She is a witch. Or a spy. One of the two.
A: I see. And what strange old gods or other demons do you think she serves? Or which master?
W: I do not know. We will not know, unless we put her to the question.
A: Ah-ha. Would you like to see that happen?
W: I know it is unlikely while she retains the King’s favour, though that might not last for ever. In any event, there are ways. She might simply disappear and be questioned… informally, as it were.
A: Nolieti?
W: I have… not discussed this with him as such, but I have already ascertained most reliably that he would be more than happy to oblige. He suspects strongly that she released through death one of those he was questioning.
A: Yes, he mentioned that to me.
W: Did you think to do anything?
A: I told him he should be more careful.
W: Hmm. At any rate, she might be discovered in such a manner, though that would be somewhat risky, and she would have to be killed thereafter anyway. Working to force her from the King’s favour might take longer and could, pressing the matter as one may have to, entail risks which were hardly less than those attached to the former course of action.
A: Obviously you have given the matter considerable thought.
W: Of course. But if she was to be taken, without the King’s knowledge, the help of the guard commander might be crucial.
A: It might, mightn’t it?
W: So? Would you help?
A: In what way?
W: Provide the men, perhaps?
A: I think not. We might have one lot of the palace guard fighting their fellows, and that would never do.
W: Well then, otherwise?
A: Otherwise?
W: Damn it, man! You know what I must mean!
A: Blind eyes? Gaps in rosters? That sort of thing?
W: Yes, that.
A: Sins of omission rather than commission.
W: Expressed however you wish. It is the acts, or lack of them I would know about.
A: Then, perhaps.
W: No more? Merely, “perhaps”?
A: Were you thinking of doing this in close proximity to the present, dear Duke?
W: Perhaps.
A: Ha. Now, you see, unless you—
W: I don’t mean today, or tomorrow. I am looking for an understanding that should it become necessary, such a plan might be put into effect with as little delay as possible.
A: Then, if I was convinced of the urgency of the cause, it might.
W: Good. That is better. At last. Providence, you are the most—
A: But I would have to believe that the safety of the monarch was threatened. Doctor Vosill is a personal appointee of the King. To move against her might be seen as moving against our beloved Quience himself. His health is in her hands, perhaps as much as it is in mine. I do my modest best to keep at bay assassins and others who might wish the King ill, while she combats the illnesses that come from within.
W: Yes, yes, I know. She is close. He depends on her. It is already too late to act before her influence achieves its zenith. We might only work to hasten the descent. But by then it might be too late.
A: You think that she means to kill the King? Or influence him? Or does she merely spy, reporting to another power?
W: Her brief might include all of those, depending.
A: Or none.
W: You seem less concerned in this than I imagined, Adlain. She has come from the ends of the world, entered the city barely two years ago, doctored to one merchant and one noble — both briefly — and then suddenly she’s closer to our King than anybody else! Providence, a wife would spend less time with him!
A: Yes. One might wonder whether she performs any of the more intimate duties of a wife.
W: Hmm. I think not. To bed one’s physician is unusual, but that only arises from the unnaturalness of having a woman claiming to be a doctor in the first place. But, no, I have seen no sign. Why, do you know?
A: I merely wondered if you knew.
W: Hmm.
A: Of course, she does seem to be a rather good doctor. At the very least she has done the King no obvious harm, and that in my experience is far more than one might reasonably expect from a court physician. Perhaps we should leave her alone for now, while we have nothing more definite than your suspicions, however reliable they have proved in the past.
W: We might. Will you have her watched?
A: Well, no more than at present.
W: Hmm. And besides, I have another investment in the truth or otherwise of her story that may yet yield her.
A: You do? How so?
W: I shall not trouble you with the details, but I have my doubts concerning certain of her claims and hope presently to bring before the King one who can discredit her and show her to have borne false witness to him. It is a long-term investment but it should bear interest during our time at the Summer Palace or, if not, then shortly thereafter.
A: I see. Well, we must hope that you do not lose your capital. Can you tell me what form it takes?
W: Oh, it is the coin of man. And land, and tongue. But I must hold mine. I’ll say no more.
A: I think I shall have more wine. Will you join me?
W: Thank you, no. I have other matters to attend to.
A: Allow me…
W: Thank you. Ah. My old bones… at least I am able to ride, though next year I may take carriage. I thank Providence the way back is easier. And that we are not far from Lep now.
A: I’m sure in the hunt you can out-jump men half your age, Duke.
W: I am sure I cannot, but your flattery is still gratifying. Good day.
A: Good day, Duke… Epline!
All this I copied — with a few deletions to make the narrative less tedious — from the part of the Doctor’s journal written in Imperial. I never did show it to my Master.
Could she have overheard all this? It seems inconceivable. The guard commander Adlain had his own physician and I’m sure he never once called upon the Doctor’s services. What would she have been doing anywhere near his tent?
Could they have been lovers and she was hiding under some bed covers all the time? That seems no more likely. I was with her almost all of the time, every single day. Also, she confided in me, sincerely, I am convinced. She simply did not like Adlain. Indeed she felt threatened by him. How could she suddenly have tumbled into bed with a man she feared, never giving the remotest sign before that she desired to, or afterwards that she had? I know that illicit lovers can be ingenious in the extreme and suddenly find within themselves reserves of guile and the ability to act that even they did not until then know they possessed, but to imagine the Doctor and the guard commander in such a sexual conspiracy is surely to draw the bow one notch too far.
Was Epline the source? Did she have some sort of hold over him? I do not know. They seemed not really to know each other, but who can tell? They may have been lovers, but the same unlikeliness attaches to that liaison as does to that of her and Adlain.
I cannot think who else could have heard all of this. It did occur to me that she might have made it all up, that what she wrote here constituted her darkest imaginings regarding what others in the Court might be planning for her, yet somehow that too does not feel right either. In the end I am left with something that I am certain reflects a genuine conversation, but with no clear idea how the Doctor came by it.
But there we are. Some things never do make perfect sense. There must be some explanation, and it is perhaps a little like the Doctrine of the Perfect Partner. We must be content to know that she exists, somewhere in the world, and try not to care overmuch that we will probably never meet her.
We arrived without incident at the city of Lep-Skatacheis. On the morning after we arrived the Doctor and I went to the King’s chambers before the business of the day was due to start. As usual on such occasions, the King’s business — and much of the Court’s — comprised of hearing certain legal disputes which had been deemed too complicated or too important for the city authorities and the Marshal to decide upon. According to my experience, gained during the three previous years I had travelled this way, such sitting in judgment was not a function of his responsibilities the King relished.