Spy for a Troubled King (The Adventures of Grant Scotland, Book Two)

By Dan McClure

AMONG THE ASHES of the mighty Aelfan Empire, the House of Gregyan seeks to forge a new kingdom—one where both Huthan and Aelfan alike can prosper. But old prejudices and ancient traditions and an exiled enemy threaten the peace. Caught between compassion for his home and allegiance to his fallen empire, Grant Scotland finds himself trapped in the turbulent machinations of enemies and friends. As he works to uncover mysteries about his past and new threats to his future, he moves perilously close to revealing his identity and losing everything.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Dan McClure
• Release date: Jan 25, 2015
• ISBN: 9781311759856

Dan McClure

Writing, working and living in beautiful, historic Arlington, MA.

Book preview

Adventures of Grant Scotland:

Spy for a Troubled King

Copyright 2014 Dan McClure

Published by Dan McClure at Smashwords

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be resold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your enjoyment only, then please return to Smashwords.com or your favorite retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Description

AMONG THE ASHES of the mighty Aelfan Empire, the House of Gregyan seeks to forge a new kingdom—one where both Huthan and Aelfan alike can prosper. But old prejudices and ancient traditions and an exiled enemy threaten the peace. Caught between compassion for his home and allegiance to his fallen empire, Grant Scotland finds himself trapped in the turbulent machinations of enemies and friends. As he works to uncover mysteries about his father’s treachery and confront new threats to his future, he moves perilously close to revealing his identity and losing everything.

Dedication

This book is dedicated to

Lauren Bacall, Peter O’Toole, Robin Williams, James Garner, and most of all my grandmother, The Great Lilly,

who all passed away during the writing of this book.

Life is short. Go make something.

Contents

Description

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

The Adventure Continues . . .

About the Author

CHAPTER ONE

WHEN YOU LOOK AT IT OBJECTIVELY, life is like a series of experiments. You read the instructions, you follow the steps, but it's your first time doing it, so you'll most likely screw it up. Cook an egg? Seems simple enough, but even if someone showed you how, you still would probably cook it too long or not enough. So, no matter what, everything is an experiment.

The first time I hung myself upside down, it was an experiment. Intellectually, I knew I had about fifteen minutes of upside-down time before all the blood in my head would make it impossible for me to right myself. Well, not without a lot of grunting and cursing and thrashing anyway. So, I counted the seconds, but of course I lost track and then was stuck there hanging from the Bishop of Aelfa's roof, peeking in his window and unable to draw myself up without making a spectacle. Instead, I had to cut myself down and crash to the ground and make an ungraceful getaway. I was hoping this time I could get it right.

Trying to remain as quiet as possible, I lowered myself down the rope I had tied around the pulley support beam of one of the warehouses belonging to Remen Shippers. Suspended three stories above the ground on a moonless night wasn't my idea of a good time, but it was unfortunately what I was doing. Solin had told me to investigate smuggling activity down around the docks, so after a few weeks of snooping, I had stumbled on some suspicious late-night activity near this particular warehouse.

I had decided to take a closer look. The only way to do that, however, was to prop open the third-floor bay doors a crack and get onto the roof and wait for the activity to start. Then, I could lower myself to spy from the only direction the would-be smugglers wouldn't suspect. Of course, that would also happen to be the most uncomfortable direction. I stifled a grunt as I flipped myself upside down in midair and locked my legs around the rope and lowered my head to peer in the small opening between the loading doors.

That level of the warehouse contained a few stacks of large crates but otherwise was nearly empty. A small oil lamp turned down low was the only source of light coming from a long table near the back wall. A group of figures came up the nearby stairs and settled into positions around the table. Two of them carried a crate about the size of a small coffin. They deposited it on the table, being careful not to make too much noise. Another one disappeared briefly and reappeared with a pry bar and quickly took the lid off. A couple more figures came up the stairs with their own lamp, this one also quite dim. They moved over to the table and began lifting items out of the box, but it was much too dark for me to see what they were.

I cursed silently and performed a miraculous feat of dexterity as I reached up to my pants pocket, unbuttoned it and removed a thin green crystal about the length of my finger without managing to drop it. I smiled in triumph and held the object up to my eyes. Long years past, wizards and their magical works had been commonplace. Once, during the height of the empire, such trinkets as this simple nighttime looking glass were as common as clay pots. Now, with the death of the empire and the defeat of its wizards and legions, once ordinary magical items such as this had become rare and invaluable. Solin would have my head if I ever lost one.

As I looked through the green prism, the view in front of me changed so that all the dimly lit shapes became sharpened and defined. The black of shadow and the yellow of lamplight were replaced by shades of green and bright white. I tried not to look at the lamps and instead focused on the figures. It looked like there were three Durfans dressed as dock workers and two Huthans sorting through the crate. Another figure remained cloaked and hidden in shadows behind the table and away from the lamps. The items the Huthans were picking out of the crates were swords. Some were of the Huthan broad sword variety, but most were the well-crafted short blades used by Zyren infantry, the last remaining soldiers who defended what little was left of the old empire.

I realized my timer was almost up, so I took a deep breath and slowly exhaled as I grabbed the rope with my hands and pulled myself into an upright position. After waiting a few seconds for the dizziness and stars to pass out of my eyes as the blood drained away from my head, I hoisted myself up to the beam and then climbed onto it. As I undid all my knots and stowed the rope around my chest I thought about which group I should follow after the meeting broke up. Without more information, there wasn't a way to make any kind of good decision. I figured I'd let luck decide for me and just follow the last guys to leave.

After I felt confident all my gear was secured, I reached up to the eaves overhanging the beam and pulled myself onto the roof. I padded across the ridge to the back of the warehouse and swung over the edge and onto the ladder I had used to get up earlier in the night. After reaching ground, I pulled the ladder away and quickly carried it back to where I had found it, leaning against another warehouse that was getting some roof repairs done. I had stashed my leather parka there, so I tugged the rope down from across my chest and cinched it around my waist and then put on the coat. I hustled back and found a dark corner to watch the ground floor exit and then tried to calm my breathing.

As it turned out, I didn't need to rush. Another fifteen or twenty minutes went by before the people started to come out. Maybe they had insisted on counting everything before they left. Some smugglers are like that. They just like to show off the fact that they know their sums.

The Durfan workers and the guy in the cloak went in one direction and then the Huthans came out and went in another. Looks like the Huthans are the lucky ones tonight.

I waited a few seconds after they disappeared around a corner and then quickly and quietly sprinted across the street. They were about fifty yards ahead and walking briskly along a road that would take them away from the Docks District and toward the heart of the city. Once we were out of the Docks I could relax and follow them a little more openly, because the areas closer to the city's center would nearly always have street people out no matter the hour. The Docks, however, were usually pretty deserted at that time of night.

So, instead of risking being noticed by following too closely, I gambled on knowing roughly where they were headed and did a lot of waiting and sprinting during the next few minutes. It was good exercise for me. I had been too sedentary in my other life as a bookbinder—my pretend life. I much preferred my pretend life, especially at times like these when I had to hang upside down in the middle of the night and then perform a series of wind sprints.

I had gambled right and managed not to lose them so I reeled them in a bit and kept them in constant sight as we entered the Capitol District. A few taverns were still open and probably would be until dawn.

The Huthans had more or less concentrated their occupation of Aelfa around the Capitol District. This kept them segregated from the Aelfan population of the city, but regardless I had managed to glean a few fun facts about their social lives. One of which was that they had a penchant for late-night drinking. I wasn't unfamiliar with the subject myself. The occasional drunk could be seen stumbling along one street or another so I didn't look too out of place as I continued my tail. I reached into the inside pocket of my coat and withdrew my flask and gave myself a belt of whiskey. There—now I fit right in.

As we reached Triumph Park, I slowed my pace and then leaned against the wall as they turned and abruptly entered one of the nearby taverns. I decided to wait a minute before entering, so I turned and looked out at the park. It was a square mile of real estate in the middle of the city that had the Imperial Senate building on one side and the Imperial Palace on the other. It consisted of an impressive landscape of sculpted lawn and hedges, manicured trees, fancy fountains, and breathtaking monuments.

At least, it used to. I had never seen it during its heyday, but I'd heard the stories. Every blade of grass had been carefully trimmed and every stone fountain obsessively polished during the thousand years of the height of the Aelfan Empire. But the capital city, Aelfa—this city in which I had been skulking around for the past ten or so years—had been finally conquered a hundred years ago. Originally it was by Durfan tribes sweeping down out of the mountains to the north, but in the generations since, every barbarian nation had taken a turn.

The city still survived in some fashion, but its spirit had been broken. The most visual example of this was Triumph Park. The grass had turned to weeds, where it hadn't been turned to dirt or mud from the invader's cavalry exercises. None of the fountains still worked and no one remained in the city who knew how to repair them. The trees had overgrown their bounds and new saplings dotted the landscape. Most of the monuments had been toppled on purpose or had begun to crack due to natural exposure to elements and without any caretakers. A couple of the statues of old emperors still existed and the current rulers, a Huthan tribe called the Gregyans, had tried to paint them to look like their king and his son. The result had been predictably laughable, but they knew enough about stonework to keep the statues from falling over.

The wide boulevards that bracketed the park had been built up with the impressive domus of the wealthy and powerful and the expensive shops and cafes of high-end merchants and restaurateurs. These days, although most of the buildings still survived in this part of town, they were falling into disrepair and were only half-occupied. Those that had occupants were no longer home to the elite. They housed the king's closest supporters and their families—people more use to living in drafty stone keeps than luxury apartments. The cafes had been replaced with taverns and the shops had long since been looted. No merchants had ever come to replace them. The only commerce in Aelfa was with the farmers in the outlying fields and the occasional brave and heavily guarded caravan.

I shoved off the wall and peeked in one of the tavern's open shutters. If I wasn't nervous about the rope around my waist somehow coming loose or bulging too much, I could have gone in. I wouldn't have attracted too much attention, even though the place was mostly filled with Huthans. I was a half-breed myself, half Huthan and half Aelfan, so I probably would have been left alone.

Actually, in day-to-day affairs, there wasn't too much animosity expressed toward Aelfans, but late at night after a few rounds of ale or mead or whiskey, even the most passive of Huthans start picking on their conquered foes. At one time, the Aelfan Empire had cruelly used or enslaved many Huthan tribes. Although the atrocities had taken place long before anyone alive had been born, the scars remained.

I saw the two guys I had tailed seated at a table with a woman. She had the blonde hair and the blue eyes typical of Huthans, but she also had smooth, clear skin and full, red lips. She was stunning. What would a pretty young woman like that be doing mixed up with arms smuggling? As I was studying her, she leaned forward and grabbed the hand of one of the men as it rested on the table. Something around her neck fell free from her cloak and dangled just above the table's surface. It was a necklace and it looked damned familiar. My jaw dropped open. A few months ago I had stolen that very necklace for Solin. At least, I thought it was the same one. The light wasn't great in there. I could've been wrong.

She whispered something urgently to both men and squeezed the hand she held. They visibly relaxed and nodded at her and took drinks from their mugs. She nodded back and got up and rearranged her cloak before heading out the door. I scrambled away from the wall and slipped around the corner into a side street before she exited. After making sure no one had noticed my furtive movements, I waited a couple of seconds to see if she would pass my way. When she didn't, I poked my head around and caught a glimpse of golden tresses moving away and out across the park. I couldn't be sure, but it looked like she was angling for the palace. Well, well, the plot thickens.

I strolled as casually as I could into the park and kept my eye on her in the dark. This was the riskiest of all, because the only other people in the park at this time of night were drunken Huthan barbarians looking to break stuff. They usually just settled for lawn bowling with the decapitated heads of crumbling statues, but there had been rumors that occasionally they also used Aelfan heads. I liked my head just where it was, so I kept my eyes peeled and walked softly. I only wanted to tail her long enough to be sure she was headed into the palace via the front entrance. If she was someone who resided there, it would be fairly easy to put a name to her face by the light of day. Unfortunately, I never got the chance to be sure.

My feet tripped over something on the ground and I tumbled face first into the dirt. Someone uttered a loud curse and I cringed when I realized it hadn't been me. I looked behind me and a man was struggling to sit up from where he had been lying on the ground. I rolled away and stood up and scanned the location where I had last seen the girl. She had been approaching the large stone stairs up to the palace's main gate, but now I couldn't see where she had gone. Could she already have ascended them?

You all right, Karl? A voice boomed from nearby. Two more men appeared from behind a nearby hedge.

This fucker tried to kick my ass! the man behind me growled loudly in a voice slurred with drink. Karl, I presumed.

Hey, what gives? Why you kicking our buddy? The two men were approaching me from the hedge and the one who spoke had that look that every drunk gets when he's decided it's time to punch someone. I considered my options. Negotiation seemed unlikely. I didn't have anything they'd want or I'd be willing to part with and anyway they'd just take it after beating me up. Playing the nice guy and offering to buy them a drink would likely just result in them beating me up and taking my money. I opted for the third option: aggressive pacification.

I held up my hands and made supplicating gestures and noises as I backed up more or less in the direction of the one called Karl. When I bumped into his chest and could feel his hot breath on my neck, I stopped and reached over my shoulder and grabbed his head and bent and heaved. He was a heavy one. No wonder he had been resting. It must take a lot of energy to move around that bulk. I gave an extra push from my bent knees and sent him hurtling over me and into one of the two who had been advancing.

Karl and the nearest one went down in a tangle, but their friend wasted no time. He came at me hard and fast from my left. I was still hunched over so I took his wild right hook on my shoulder and then thrust up at his chin as he struggled to get his balance back. Drunks like to lead with their chins and this one was no different. The base of my palm jammed up into his jaw and I heard his teeth crack against one another. As he spun away and tried to disengage and brought his hands to his mouth, I knew I had gotten lucky and he had probably bitten his tongue. I feinted toward him like I was going to give a follow-up punch and he tried to twist away to protect his face. I had anticipated his turn and was able to step behind and grab him by his hair. He yelped as I yanked back and planted a foot in his butt and kicked him back toward the other two who had just disentangled themselves. The three of them staggered and wobbled and tried not to fall down again. As for me, I did a rapid about face and engaged in an impressive display of heel-toe action. I was hoping they were too drunk to be in the mood to chase me—at least not very far, anyway.

It turned out I was right and after not even a block and a half, they stopped running and contented themselves with hurling insults at my back. That was all right with me. My backside had taken a lot of long hours of training in absorbing insults. I bet they wouldn't even leave bruises. I had calluses built up and everything.

I stopped running after a few more blocks and paused to catch my breath and figure out where I was. I had been heading more or less toward the Temple District, but hadn't quite reached it. I could turn back toward the Docks where I made my home and call it a night, or I could pay Solin a late-night visit and try to get some answers. Solin was on the other side of the Capitol so it would be a long walk, especially since I'd have to avoid the park. I turned my feet around and started walking. If I wasn't getting much sleep tonight then why should he?

CHAPTER TWO

IT TOOK AN EXTRA SET OF SECRET KNOCKS on the back door of his shop to bring him around. Maybe the last set of knocks was more like bangs. Anyway, he was suitably annoyed by the time the door swung open. He just glared at me as I quickly stepped inside.

The back room of Solin's shop was filled with bolts of cloth of different shades and varying quality, mostly nice. There were also a few crates of tailoring materials and mothballed fashions, but I knew a couple of those also hid instruments more useful to our clandestine purpose. It was into one of these that he placed the night-vision crystal that I slapped in his hand after he did nothing but stare at me with his palm facing upward. Good old Solin—never forgets a single asset. Hopefully, he remembered where he had put that necklace too.

I thought you were coming to see me tomorrow night. Did something happen? He finished hiding the crystal under the false bottom of a small crate on the nearby worktable. His eyes were red, but his hair wasn't mussed, so I had probably caught him just before he turned in for the night. He seemed slightly annoyed, but then he always seemed that way. His sharp, Aelfan features were set into a pinched expression in his aging, yet still handsome face. Although I had a few inches on him he still managed to look down his nose as he regarded me.

I'll say. That warehouse was the location of some arms dealing, that's for sure.

Weapons? Interesting. What did you see?

A couple of Huthans buying some swords from a couple Durfan dock workers and someone in a big cloak in one of Remen's warehouses.

Who was in the cloak?

I shook my head. I didn't get a good look. Whoever it was stayed in the shadows the whole time.

And the swords? What kind were they? What maker?

Looked like an assortment. Some were Aelfan, some Huthan design. Looked to me like they were used—probably scavenged from a battlefield somewhere.

Solin frowned and walked around the crates and inspected his bolts of cloth. I knew the room stretched out to the right and left of me along the length of the building, but I could only see the few feet around us from the meager light of Solin's candle.

So? he asked as he turned back to me. Why was this so important you needed to disturb me at this hour?

I followed the Huthans after the meeting broke up. They walked all the way back to the Capitol District. Want to guess where they ended up?

Solin sighed. Grant, one day I am sure you will find a companion who will be willing to stay up late with you and play your juvenile guessing games. Perhaps he even will want to braid your hair and tell you the secrets of how to kiss a boy, but I can assure you that companion will never be me.

I ignored him, as usual. The Dragon's Breath. That's right. One of the taverns that looks out on the same park as the palace. Pretty conspicuous for undercover arms merchants. Want to guess who they met there?

Scotland . . .

A woman. Pretty one too. Tall, curly blonde hair, nice face. Couldn't see her figure, but I did happen to notice she was wearing a fancy necklace. A familiar necklace. It was familiar to me because I remember stealing it once.

Even in the poor light, I could tell Solin's face had turned a shade or two paler. After a couple of seconds he lit another candle and took it over to his worktable and sat down in his chair. I couldn't help but notice the chair was well-crafted and polished and upholstered with leather cushions on the seat and armrests. Far be it from Solin to use a simple stool where a finely crafted office chair would do. There wasn't anything for me to sit on, so I just crossed my arms in front of me and leaned against a nearby bolt of cloth.

Don't wrinkle the material, he mumbled at me without looking up from staring at the floor. I sighed and rolled my eyes at him and pushed off to lean against the crates instead.