The Great Game (Royal Sorceress) Read Free Page A

years of experience and knew where most of the bodies were buried. Gwen had much less latitude... and many more political enemies. The ones who didn’t consider her a foolish female – never mind the fact that Queens tended to be better for the country than Kings – believed that she was too young to do her job.
    “And, Inspector, I want you to find out where she came from.”
    A police doctor was already looking at the intended sacrifice. “She’s been drugged, probably with a light dose of chloroform,” he said. “It would probably be better to let her recover here and then transfer her to one of the hospitals, where she can be interviewed.”
    “See to it,” Gwen ordered. “I can write a chit for a Healer’s services, if necessary.”
    She took one last look at the Worshipful Order of Ancient Wisdom and then walked out of the door, back onto the streets. A small army of policemen were identifying, booking and finally marching off the aristocratic witnesses, using kid gloves. Gwen found it hard to blame them; even a very junior aristocrat could file a complaint that would ruin a constable’s career. The Bow Street Runners might have been purged of the worst of the corruption after the Swing, when they had failed to keep the streets under control, but there were still bad apples in the barrel.
    Taking a copy of the arrest list from Inspector Lestrade, who could never have passed for an aristocrat, she walked off in the direction of the Houses of Parliament. If she knew Lord Mycroft, he’d still be working on papers in his office until midnight and he’d need to see the arrest list as soon as possible. The Worshipful Order of Ancient Wisdom would create a political nightmare as soon as they were released from custody.
    But there had been no choice. Sacrificing a human being was very definitely crossing the line, even though Gwen had known that it would be futile. They’d had to be stopped, even if it meant risking the stability of the government – or even if it meant risking her own position.
    Because if she couldn’t stop well-connected men murdering members of the lower orders, what had Jack died for anyway?

 

    Chapter Two
    D uring the Swing, Whitehall and the Houses of Parliament had been extensively damaged by the rebels. After the fighting had come to an end, the government had started a long-term project to rebuild the heart of the British Establishment, allowing the government departments to be extensively reorganised – and, Gwen had been told, to be purged of a great many officials who had outstayed their welcome. Lord Mycroft, who had lost his flat in Pall Mall when the rebels had firebombed it, had moved into Whitehall and taken effective control of the government. These days, he rarely left his offices.
    Gwen smiled to herself as the policemen on duty waved her through the gates. At first, they’d been suspicious of a young girl visiting Whitehall, certainly one without any male escort. Now, they just let her through without asking any questions, apart from a handful of requests to show off her magic. Gwen had been puzzled at first, until Inspector Jude had reminded her that the Royal Sorcerer was supposed to provide magical support if the Bow Street Runners ran into trouble. A display of competence on her part was always welcome.
    Lord Mycroft’s office occupied the entire second floor of the Home Office. Somehow, it still managed to seem crammed with files, books and boxes, allowing Lord Mycroft instant access to any or all of the government’s archives. Gwen had never seen him actually having to look at the files; like Doctor Norwell, Lord Mycroft possessed a perfect memory and an undeniable gift for seeing connections in the information that would be missed by almost anyone else. He was easily the most intelligent man that Gwen had ever encountered. The thought of what would happen to the government when he died or retired was chilling.
    “Lady Gwen,” Lord Mycroft said. He was