While, with some effort, he could contemplate his own extinction, the prospect of Caroline being no more both outraged and distressed him. A universe without Caroline Hepworth in it? It was wrong, so wrong that he emitted a groan that the gag couldn’t stifle. Both Caroline and the baron interrupted their arguing to look at him.
‘This is just business,’ the baron continued after satisfying himself that Aubrey wasn’t beginning a spell. ‘Nothing more. War is good for such a person as me. My factories will be happy, my suppliers will be happy, I will be happy.’
‘That makes you worse than the generals,’ Caroline said. ‘They, at least, have some sense of duty and honour.’
‘Delusions. I have self-interest at heart and I make no quibble about it.’
‘Like Dr Tremaine?’
Aubrey was fascinated to see that the baron actually shifted uncomfortably at the mention of the rogue sorcerer. ‘He has his interests, I have mine.’
‘And we know what happens to people who work for Dr Tremaine,’ Caroline bore in. ‘We’ve seen the results.’
‘I do not work for Tremaine. We are partners.’
‘Of course he’d tell you that.’
‘His expertise with magic, my expertise with manufacturing. It is a good arrangement.’
‘Dr Tremaine will get what he wants, that’s certain.’
Baron von Grolman stared at her sourly, then he rapped on the desk again. ‘Take them away,’ he said when the door behind him opened.
‘I shall,’ came an amused voice. Aubrey sat bolt upright, as much as he could. ‘All in good time.’
Dr Tremaine entered the room and was immediately the centre of attention. Baron von Grolman nodded at him in a disgruntled fashion. Caroline glared daggers at him. Aubrey wondered if his eyes were deceiving him.
Dr Tremaine looked happy and healthy, as if he’d spent time on a tropical island rather than manoeuvring the world into war. He wore a dark blue cutaway frock coat, with a white shirt and an eye-catching red paisley cravat. He carried a cane – with no sign of the Tremaine pearl.
‘Tell me, Baron,’ Dr Tremaine said, his voice rich with delight at his partner’s discomfort, ‘when were you going to let me know you’d found the intruders?’
The baron adjusted his bulk slightly, as if he knew it were a hopeless effort. He narrowed his eyes. ‘You were busy, Tremaine, doing your business with the coal essence. I know how you hate interruptions.’
‘Not as much as those who do the interrupting, once I’ve reminded them of my aversion to them.’ He peered across the room. ‘I knew Fitzwilliam had come to pester me again. And he’s brought the girl.’
Aubrey could feel Caroline’s cold fury from where he was. He would not, ever, have wanted to be the object of Caroline Hepworth’s anger.
Once again, however, she surprised him. With steely calm, she addressed the rogue sorcerer. ‘I’m happy that you’ve forgotten who I am. The less time I spend in that horror you call a mind, the better.’
‘Hah!’ Dr Tremaine perched on the corner of the desk, much to the irritation of Baron von Grolman. ‘Your father would have been proud of you!’
‘Don’t mention my father. Your lips sully his name.’
‘He’s dead, you know, so it doesn’t really matter.’
He turned to the baron and launched into a discussion of train schedules and clay shipments, and so missed Caroline’s shock, and the look she shot him once she’d recovered. Aubrey wished he was able to capture that look, for top military magicians would be very interested in its weaponry applications. He waggled his head at her, trying to hook her attention. She rolled her eyes at his feeble efforts at indicating their bonds. Of course she would have thought of that, he thought. If only he could cast the spell to harden his tongue to a cutting edge, so he could sever the gag to allow him to cast a spell to harden his tongue...
‘I’ll take them off your hands, von Grolman,’ Dr Tremaine said.
‘I want them,’ the baron said. Again, he shifted uneasily in his seat. ‘I have the interrogators ready.’
‘The Mattingly girl is there?’
‘You know about her?’
‘Of course I know about her. She’s one of mine. I used her to dupe Delroy’s son into joining the Holmland army. Imagine that.’
Aubrey went to gasp, but the gag made him choke. Dr Tremaine glanced at him.
‘Delroy?’ the baron said, stunned. ‘You have a hold on him?’
‘The boy is here. I’ll go to work on him soon, and then we’ll have someone neatly placed to bring down the Gallian government.’
The baron stared at Dr Tremaine for some time. ‘I knew she was one of yours,’ he said eventually. ‘That’s why I found her useful.’
Dr Tremaine laughed. ‘You lie so wonderfully poorly, von Grolman. That’s why I’m happy for you to work with me.’
For an instant, Aubrey thought he saw the baron’s gaze flit around the room, a mouse trapped in a corner by a cat. Then he composed himself by lacing his hands on his chest. Aubrey begrudgingly awarded the baron some points here. He hadn’t achieved his fortune by being a weakling. The baron knew he was dancing with a tiger – but Aubrey thought he may have been making the mistake of assuming he was leading.
Aubrey had a hint of hope. Could there be something here? Some dissent, some difference of outlook that he could work on?
Difficult, he thought, tied up and gagged like this. He wrenched at where his hands were lashed to the chair frame, but the wood and the rope were solid.
‘Perhaps you should get back to the train-loading platform, Tremaine,’ the Baron said. ‘Don’t you want to gloat over your invincible warriors?’
‘Gloating is a sign of weakness, von Grolman, try to remember that. I’ll let your people manage the loading of the golems. I’m sure they can handle things well enough.’
‘The interrogator–’ the baron began, but Dr Tremaine cut him off short.
‘Can wait. I want to talk to these two now.’
Baron von Grolman licked his lips, quickly, his tongue moving in and out like a snake. ‘As you wish, Tremaine. No need to make a fuss.’
Dr Tremaine stood. ‘Other people make fusses, von Grolman. I don’t.’ He gestured, and a slim knife appeared in his hand. ‘Now, girl, I’m going to slice through the ropes around your feet. Don’t attempt to kick me. I’m assured it’s painful trying to walk on a broken leg.’
Caroline stiffened, but resisted the impulse as Dr Tremaine went to work. ‘I’m leaving your hands bound,’ he said, straightening. ‘For your good, not mine. Call me sentimental.’
Caroline rallied. ‘Once I’ve finished making my list, I’ll call you many things.’
‘Excellent. Now, Fitzwilliam. The same applies to you, of course, but I’ll leave that gag on. Not just because you look foolish and it makes me laugh, but because I want to do away with the faint possibility of your working magic that could actually interfere with my plans.’
The baron drummed his fingers on his desk while Dr Tremaine shepherded Caroline and Aubrey out. The last Aubrey saw of him, he was reaching for the telephone, and a brief moment of pity came to him. In a better, kinder world, he would have had the chance to sit Baron von Grolman down and offer him some advice: ‘Look, Baron, the only thing to do is to drop everything and run. Run fast and run far. Change your name, your appearance, your habits and hope that Dr Tremaine forgets all about you.’
Aubrey was amazed that the baron hadn’t come to that conclusion for himself. It confounded him that so many people thought they could work with the rogue sorcerer and walk away safely, whereas Aubrey saw it as similar to working with nitro-glycerine. Take all precautions: heavy gloves, metal tongs, keep your distance, and you’d still never know when it could go off.