Word of Honour

'Just the sort of person who would be an excellent enemy agent.'

'I'd thought of that. But just because he's a bounder, it doesn't make him a traitor. Does it?'

'I'm not sure. You saw that he wanted to borrow money from me. I've found out that his financial position is even more dire than he'd let on. This sort of leverage is gold for enemy intelligence operatives.'

'But the battleship contract! Rokeby-Taylor would make a fortune and it would put a dent in Holmland's naval ambitions at the same time. He'd be a hero, not a traitor. Unless . . .'

'Yes?' Sir Darius raised an eyebrow.

'He takes Holmland's money and the Navy's money, builds the ships but does something to them? Sabotages them?'

'Who'd be in a better position?'

'You know him best. Would he stoop to something like this?'

'He dearly loves his money. Or the life it buys him, anyway. Could he be tempted? Yes. Would he betray his country? I don't know. Would he risk his own life to do so? Almost certainly not. Remember how dismayed he was when the Electra sank.'

'Dr Tremaine,' Aubrey said, almost without thinking about it. 'Once you bring him into this equation, everything changes.'

'Ah, the elusive Dr Tremaine.'

'If he has a hold on Rokeby-Taylor, it changes everything.'

'But what sort of hold? More than blackmailing him over money?'

'Something magical.'

Aubrey tried to recall his meetings with Rokeby-Taylor. There was something about the man that had prodded his curiosity, even then. But Tremaine's hold couldn't be something as trifling as a poison administered and an antidote withheld. It would have to be something that worked on Rokeby-Taylor's weakness, something that could be exploited.

His greed.

'Supposition,' Sir Darius said. 'We have no proof, only suspicions. Clive's turning up at every inconvenient point, his uncharacteristic philanthropy –' 'Count Brandt's Holmlanders. Are they of interest, too?'

'Yes, but not in the same way. From all reports, they're genuinely opposed to the present Holmland government. Brandt would like us to consider them an opposition in exile, but their organisation is too haphazard to deserve that.'

'And Rokeby-Taylor's supporting them financially.' For a moment, Aubrey wondered at Rokeby-Taylor's source of funds. If his companies were doing as badly as it seemed, then where was the money coming from?

'Or supporting someone financially,' Sir Darius said. 'It seems as if Brandt is channelling much of the money he receives to the Circle, this mysterious opposition group in Holmland. I'm very nervous about this.'

So was Aubrey, but it was well down the list of things to worry about. 'What about Craddock and Tallis? What's going on there?'

'Rivalry. There's no more powerful motivator when people reach a certain level, unless it's naked ambition. Of course, the two often go hand in hand.'

'They're not traitors?'

'Craddock and Tallis? Traitors?' Sir Darius's laugh was sour. 'I'll warrant that both of them suggested that about the other. Tallis, reasonably bluntly. Craddock, so subtly that you hardly noticed at the time.'

'They're valuable men.'

'In their way. But they must put aside petty jealousies like that. It's time-consuming and very, very dull.'

Aubrey bit his lip. 'I've heard that the Magisterium might be conducting research.'

'Who better to research magical espionage issues?'

'But isn't it against their charter?'

'Not any more. We changed that months ago. Didn't make any sense to stifle their investigations like that.'The front doorbell rang and he stood. 'Thank you, Aubrey. This time was useful.'

'Wait,' Aubrey said. 'I'm sorry if I sound suspicious, sir, but did Commander Craddock suggest you talk to me?'

'Craddock? No. I do have my own thoughts occasionally, you know.' Sir Darius studied his hands for a moment. 'Your conduct lately has been impressive. I can talk freely with few people, and few of them have your acuity and incisiveness.' He looked at his wristwatch. 'I must go. I have a meeting with the Minister for Defence.'

With Dr Tremaine still unaccounted for, Aubrey was very uneasy. The rogue magician had shown in the past that he was willing to strike at the Prime Minister and events seemed to be coming to a head. 'Be careful.'

'Don't worry. Stubbs will be driving me.'

'He'll be . . . well kitted out?'

'It's the wisest course of action for now. You can reassure your mother of that.' He cleared his throat a little awkwardly. 'I've asked Tallis to make sure his men are extra alert in guarding this place for the next few weeks. They're also keeping an eye on Ophelia Hepworth's flat. I thought you might like to know that.'

Aubrey had much to think over after his father left, but he had no time. George bustled in. He was red-faced, dressed in the same clothes as when Aubrey had seen him last. He had his cap scrunched up in one hand. 'On your feet, old man. Jack Figg's here.'

'George, when did you get here? How are things at home?'

'Just now, and no good news at home, I'm afraid. Come on, I think Jack has something important to tell us.'

'Jack can wait. In fact, the whole country can wait. What aren't you telling me about your father?'

George sank into a chair. His attention was entirely on the cap he now held in both hands. He wrung it back and forth, back and forth. 'It looks as if the farm is gone,' he said softly.

'What?'

'The bank marched in on Friday and demanded immediate payment. Father couldn't, of course. He was left with no choice but to sign it over.'

'But that land has been in your family for generations!'

'Funny, that didn't seem to make much difference to the bank manager.'

'But what happens now?'

'The land, the house, the stock will be auctioned off in a few weeks. If there's any money left over after paying the bank, we'll end up with it. I think Father would choke before he took it.'

'Your mother will take care of any money,' Aubrey said absently. 'But how did this happen?'

'Bit by bit, really. Like a boat slowly sinking – when we noticed, it was too late to do anything about it.' George gave his cap a particularly vicious wrench. 'Father says they'll have to come to the city. He'll look for some sort of job.'

Aubrey felt a stab in the heart. 'And you?'

The hat wrenching stopped, but George didn't look up. 'I'll have to leave college, of course. Get a job, too.'

'No,' Aubrey said. 'I'm sure we can do something.'

'Father won't allow it. Pride, remember?'

An enormous hollow opened in Aubrey's chest. He felt as if his entire being could cave in and disappear at any moment. 'George, this is horrible.'

'It's a nightmare.'

'What happens now?'

'I don't know. But I know what won't happen now. Aubrey Fitzwilliam won't ride to the rescue.'