Peter and the Sword of Mercy Read Free Page A

was about to say something more when a third child descended the stairs—a girl of eleven, with long brown hair and a face that might be called delicate, except for the boldness in her startlingly green eyes.
    “My goodness,” said James. “Is that…”
    “Yes,” said Molly. “That’s Wendy. I imagine she was just a baby when you saw her last. Wendy, this is Mr. Smith.”
    “How do you do?” said Wendy, offering a curtsy.
    “Please forgive my staring,” said James. “But you look so much like your mother when I first met her.”
    “What was she like?” said Wendy, with a disarmingly frank look that James had seen many times on her mother’s face. “Was she an obedient child?”
    “Obedient?” said James, barely stifling a laugh.
    “Wendy!” said Molly. “Mr. Smith did not come here to discuss my childhood behavior. Now, you three go upstairs. Wendy, please put your brothers to bed, and then yourself. I’ll be up to tuck everyone in after Mr. Smith and I have talked.”
    Reluctantly, the children obeyed. James, watching them climb the stairs, said, “They’re fine children, Molly. I can see you in Wendy, and George in the boys.”
    “And mischief in all three,” sighed Molly.
    “And how is George?” said James.
    “He’s doing well,” said Molly. “Very busy with his career. He’s at some sort of dreadful law banquet tonight, as he often is.” She paused. “But you didn’t come to ask about George, did you, James?”
    “No,” admitted James, giving Molly a somber look. “Something’s come up.”
    “I’ll make tea,” said Molly.
    A few minutes later they were in the sitting room, cups in hand. James took a sip, swallowed, and began.
    “Are you familiar with Baron von Schatten?”
    Molly frowned. “The German? Yes. George and I saw him briefly at an embassy dinner. Odd man. Wearing darkened glasses, indoors? And at night?”
    “The glasses are far from the only odd thing about him,” said James.
    “What do you mean?”
    “Molly, this is a man who, only a few years ago, had no connection whatsoever with the royal family. He appeared as if from nowhere, and somehow managed to ingratiate himself with Prince Albert Edward. The prince’s staff and advisers were wary of von Schatten, of course, but the prince seemed oddly tolerant of him. Almost deferential.”
    James took another sip of tea.
    “Then, one by one,” he continued, “those same staff and advisers suffered misfortunes—illnesses, injuries, even two deaths. All of these incidents appeared to be either natural or purely accidental. But each one removed another barrier between von Schatten and the prince, so that when the prince became king, von Schatten was his most trusted—in fact his only—adviser. It is now almost impossible for anyone else, including his family, to get close to him. For all intents and purposes, von Schatten is, next to the king, the most powerful man in England.”
    “I had no idea,” said Molly.
    “Very few people do,” said James.
    “How do you know all this?” said Molly.
    “Six months ago,” said James, “I was given an unusual assignment: to take a menial position on the palace staff, without revealing my identity as an inspector. My instructions were to find out as much as I could about von Schatten and his relationship to the king.”
    “Spying on the king?” said Molly.
    “I questioned it myself,” said James. “But Chief Superintendent Blake told me that the orders came from the highest levels of government. They’re worried about von Schatten’s influence, Molly. Very worried. And they have good reason to be.”
    “What do you mean?”
    James, leaning forward, lowered his voice. “Molly,” he said, “do you know what von Schatten’s profession was, before he came to England?”
    Molly shook her head.
    “He was an archaeologist,” said James. “Quite a well-known one, in fact. But his career ended suddenly ten years ago, when he had a serious accident. It’s the