Borne In Blood Part 3

"Then I will leave you. The Comte will be down directly." He inclined his head, picked up the basin and towel, and left the room.

Rogier encountered him in the corridor. "How is he?"

"The messenger? Well enough." He was about to continue on when Rogier stopped him.

"What has he said?"

"About what he carries? Nothing." Dietbold prepared to depart.

"All right," Rogier said, moving aside. He stood still as Dietbold went to the side-door and tossed out the water in the basin, then continued on to the kitchen. When he was sure he was un.o.bserved, he let himself into the parlor. "Good day to you."

"Comte?" Gutesohnes stood up.

"No; his manservant. He asks you to take your ease for a little while longer."

"Manservant." He studied Rogier. "Treats you well, does he?"

"I have served him many years," Rogier answered, deliberately oblique.

"Then he must be a good master, or a rich one."

Ignoring that remark Rogier took in the man's general appearance, and said, "Carrying messages: is it easier than driving a coach?"

Gutesohnes blinked in surprise-how had this man discerned his former occupation?-but responded readily enough: "Most of the time it is. I was worn to the bone driving coaches. But in hard weather it is more dangerous to be a messenger; you must set out long before coaches are expected to." He saw Rogier gesture to him, and sat down again.

"Do you often come to Geneva?"

"Three times a year, on our current rounds; we serve over fifty subscribers," said Gutesohnes. "It may be four times this year, with the demand for our service increasing." When Rogier said nothing more, he went on. "I wanted the Italian routes-milder weather, better hostels, wonderful food, and only two circuits a year-but I was a.s.signed to the Geneva, Bern, Basel, Zurich, Bern again."

"Has that been so disagreeable?" Rogier asked.

"Given the weather, it hasn't been easy, but still better than driving a coach." He studied Rogier. "Why do you ask?"

"My master is considering employing his own courier, a private one, not a service. He has tasked me to find suitable candidates for the job." He said it calmly enough so as not to create expectations in the young man.

"And you think he might consider employing me?" Gutesohnes brightened at the notion. "Why should he make such an offer to me? Or do you make this offer to every messenger who calls here, in the hope one will suit the requirements?"

"I think it will depend on what the Comte decides, but it is not impossible, if such a position interests you." Rogier was calm, his polite manner unfazed by Gutesohnes' effrontery.

"Of course," said Gutesohnes. "I do understand."

Anything more they might have said was lost in the gentle knock on the door, and Dietbold's return with a tray of broiled eel in herb sauce, fresh bread and b.u.t.ter, a selection of pickles, and a large cup filled with hot cognac with a thick float of cream. He put the tray on the table, nodded, and left.

"I'll leave you to your repast," said Rogier, letting himself out of the parlor; he was thinking over what Gutesohnes had said when he saw Ragoczy coming toward him. "My master."

Ragoczy paused to adjust his black-silk waistcoat and the black super-fine claw-tail coat over it. "Have I got it right?"

"Yes," said Rogier, adding with a suggestion of amus.e.m.e.nt, "You couldn't have done better with a reflection to guide you." He adjusted the silver watch-chain so that it lay more discreetly across his waistcoat, and then nodded his satisfaction. "There. That should do the trick."

"Always the final detail," Ragoczy approved.

"If Hero were here, she would attend to such matters," said Rogier. "She has a better eye than mine for the current vagaries of fas.h.i.+on: fobs and seals and watch-chains!"

"Yes: she knows the fas.h.i.+on of the present day," Ragoczy said. "Well, she should return in two weeks if the weather holds."

"And her uncle's widow is no worse, and the road from Vevey is open to travel; that late storm last week surely delayed her journey," Rogier said, and tweaked the elaborate silken bow of Ragoczy's neck-cloth. "There. What do the English call it-a rose of good taste?"

"A tulip of the ton, I believe," said Ragoczy in that language.

"A flower, in all events," said Rogier in French. "No one could quibble with your appearance."

"Thank you, old friend," said Ragoczy. "It is always important to observe the niceties."

Rogier did not quite laugh, but his lips quirked and his faded-blue eyes shone with amus.e.m.e.nt. "As you say."

"How much longer should I let him eat?" Ragoczy asked.

"Five more minutes; he won't mind the interruption then."

"What do you think of him?' Ragoczy inquired.

"Young, strong, sensible. He likes his comforts but not to the point of laziness, or so it appears-after all, he came here as soon as the road was clear enough of snow to allow him pa.s.sage. You can tell by his shoulders that his days as a coachman were demanding." Rogier coughed once. "He will probably not want to carry messages or drive coaches for all his life, at least not as an occupation. But he does appear to be willing to do the work for now, and he would seem to have an apt.i.tude for it."

"A sensible position," said Ragoczy. "If he is willing to work for five years, I will consider myself fortunate, a.s.suming he is capable and honest. I must hire someone in the next four to five months, and if this man seems qualified ..."

"You must determine that for yourself," said Rogier. "But he is the second messenger to arrive here since winter broke, and he came farther than Conrade did. I think he is able to do the work, and he would be accepted by the household."

"I will keep that in mind." Ragoczy laid his small, elegant hand on the door-latch, but said to Rogier, "I suspect there is more to it, this endors.e.m.e.nt of yours, and I am curious to know what that may be. You are usually reluctant to give such a sanction to an unknown fellow as you have for this man. Why is that? What about him is so different that you are inclined in his favor?"

Rogier took a long slow breath. "I don't quite know. It may be that something about him reminds me of Hercule," he admitted at last.

"Truly." Ragoczy regarded Rogier contemplatively. "In what way?"

"It is a question of manner." He said, choosing his words carefully. "He doesn't look like Hercule, he isn't injured, he is not so old nor so burly as Hercule was, but you know how Hercule was willing to drive through fire? Well, this young man has some of the same quality about him."

"Does he. Most interesting. I will bear that in mind." Slowly Ragoczy opened the door, saying nothing as he took stock of Otto Gutesohnes, who was cutting into the broiled eel with gusto. He stood still, a figure in dignified black but for his dove-gray silken s.h.i.+rt and the s.h.i.+ne of his watch-chain; the austerity of his clothing served to display their richness. Finally he allowed the door to close behind him, its sharp click announcing his arrival to the messenger.

Gutesohnes looked up, nearly dropped his utensils as he shoved himself to his feet. "Comte. You must be he." He stared at the man, taking in everything about him; Gutesohnes was struck by the self-possessed presence of the man, his quiet air of elegance and position, and how, although he was a bit less than average height, he had the manner and comportment of a tall man.

Ragoczy bowed slightly. "I have that honor." He indicated Gutesohnes' food. "Do not let me stop you enjoying your meal."

Somewhat awkwardly Gutesohnes sat down. "If you permit, then I thank you."

"I know what it is to be hungry. Please." He moved a few steps farther into the room and studied Gutesohnes in silence while the messenger continued to eat. "I understand you have something for me?"

"I do. It is in a sealed box, which I have in my dispatch-case, along with the other items I am delivering in Geneva. If you want, I can get it out for you now." He began to reach for the leather bag at the side of the bench. "This might be a good time to ... I am ordered to hand you the box myself, so I can vouch for its delivery."

"It can wait until you've finished your meal," said Ragoczy with an unconcerned wave of dismissal.

"You are not eating?" Gutesohnes said, indicating his tray.

"Not just at present. But do not let my abstaining stop you from completing your meal." Ragoczy gave a single, slow nod.

"Danke schoen." Gutesohnes thrust his fork into another section of broiled eel and applied his knife to the meat; the piece he stuffed into his mouth was fairly large. "This is very good," he said around his chewing.

"I'll tell my cook," said Ragoczy without a trace of sarcasm.

Gutesohnes colored to the roots of his hair. "I did not mean to over-step ... It's not my place to ... to-"

"It is a compliment and I will deliver it to Uchtred. He deserves to know his work is appreciated." Ragoczy pulled one of the four straight-backed chairs away from the wall and sat down.

"Would you prefer ... ?" Gutesohnes asked, meaning the upholstered bench upon which he sat.

"No, thank you anyway. I am comfortable where I am, and you have been in the saddle since dawn, unless I am mistaken, and therefore that bench must be very welcome." Ragoczy offered a swift, easy smile.

"Yes. I was off at sunrise from the Leaping Trout. Do you know it?" He picked up the cognac and sipped the hot liquid through the cream.

"More than three leagues from here, on the main road, about two hundred years old, with a tavern and an inn." He considered the distance. "You must have kept your mount at a steady walk to arrive here at this hour."

"Um. That's why I ride a mule-a big one, to handle whatever we may have to contend with." He broke a section of bread and wiped it through the herb-sauce on the broiled eel. "This one can walk for hours through mud and snow and rain, never mind how mired the roads are. He gets tired but will not halt until I prepare to dismount. I've had him sink to his knees in mud and continue on-annoyed but not halted. Same with snow." He bit into the sauced bread.

"A good animal, then," said Ragoczy.

"An excellent animal. The messenger service has a dozen such animals. We buy from the same breeder for all our mules." He had more eel, his eating slowing down a bit.

"A fine arrangement, no doubt," said Ragoczy, beginning to see what Rogier had perceived in this young man.

"Herr Waldenstadt has established high standards for his messengers, and a regular schedule to which we must adhere; that way we can give superior service. He insists that we account for all our time while traveling, to justify his charges." He said it dutifully enough, but with real purpose. "If we cannot prove more reliable than the post, why should anyone spend the money to subscribe?"

"Why indeed," said Ragoczy. He watched Gutesohnes drink more of the cognac, then said, "How long have you worked for Herr ... Waldenstadt?"

"Two years. I was a coachman out of the Frederich in Basel before that." He began on the pickles. "Herr Waldenstadt brought me to Bern."

"And how long did you drive a coach for the Frederich?" Ragoczy inquired calmly.

"Three years. I had learned from my aunt's husband, who took me in after my father died." He picked up the napkin and wiped his mouth.

"I suppose you read and write?" Ragoczy pursued.

His German accent grew stronger. "I was taught for five years in the local school. I know French, a little Italian, a few words in Polish, and some Czech. I can write in French as well as German, but the others, no, not really. I know Russian and Greek when I see them but I cannot read them." He dropped the napkin back in his lap and screwed up his courage enough to say, "Your manservant said you might want a private courier of your own: is that true?"

"It is," said Ragoczy, remembering Yrjo Saari, who had said the same thing over a century ago.

"And that is why you're asking me these questions?" He looked at Ragoczy directly, making no apology for doing this.

"That," said Ragoczy, "and curiosity."

Gutesohnes flushed again, feeling increasingly awkward. "Comte ..."

"Would such a position interest you?"

"It might," said Gutesohnes, doing his best to regain his composure. "What do you offer, and what duties would it entail?"

"I have businesses in many cities throughout Europe, and it is important that I be able to send various contracts and similar instruments to those businesses promptly and with a modic.u.m of privacy, which inclines me not to use the post. Confidentiality is necessary in the conduct of honorable business-would you agree?" Ragoczy put his hand to the silver watch-chain swagged across the front of his waistcoat. "I would like to have my messenger be willing to travel on short notice, to keep what he carries secret, and to return promptly with whatever responses are entrusted to him. In exchange for this service, I will provide housing, meals, horses and mules, three new suits of clothes each year, and a salary double what you receive now-a.s.suming you and I decide that this would be acceptable to us both."

"I admit I am interested, providing you don't expect me to ride into Russia, or set sail for the New World." He had another pickle and finished his cognac.

"At present, I would have no such requirements to make of you," said Ragoczy.

"At present?" Gutesohnes repeated skeptically.

"Who can say what the future may bring?" Ragoczy suggested gently.

Gutesohnes thought this over. "All right."

"Think of the two hard winters we have had," Ragoczy went on, his thoughts casting back more than twelve centuries to the dreadful Year of Yellow Snow, when all the world seemed to be locked in perpetual winter. "Had the weather taken such a turn in 1812, the losses Napoleon suffered in Russia might have been utterly complete rather than devastating; he might have fallen in the snow as so many of his men did. But it did not strike until Napoleon had done his worst. Who could have antic.i.p.ated it? Yet now it is here, we must, perforce, accommodate it."

"I take your point, Comte," said Gutesohnes.

Ragoczy coughed discreetly. "All things being equal, I will not expect you to go any farther than Poland, or England, or Spain or Greece. If circ.u.mstances should arise that required your services beyond those places, a special price would be negotiated for such a journey, and paid in advance of your travel. If you require a bond to that end, I will establish one. Would that satisfy you?"

"I suppose it must." He b.u.t.tered a wedge of bread, taking time to do it properly, all the while saying, "If you wish me to work for you, I cannot begin until I have completed the current deliveries I have to make. Once I return to Bern, I may end my employment, but not before then."

"What would be the earliest you could return here?" Ragoczy asked; he did not mention that this display of responsibility had inclined him to want to employ Gutesohnes.

"Probably the end of June, weather permitting. I would need to purchase a horse or a mule for the return. Herr Waldenstadt will not give me one." He thought a moment. "He might not even sell me one."

"I can arrange for you to purchase the mount of your choice, if you decide you want this position. You have only to choose what you want to ride, and from whom you would like to purchase it." He got to his feet; Gutesohnes almost tipped over his tray in his haste to rise. "I will return in half an hour to answer any questions you may have, and to let you know my decision. If you would like something more-some cheese, some nuts-tell Dietbold and he will bring it to you."

"Half an hour." He glanced down at his dispatch-case. "Do you want your parcel now, or would you prefer to wait?"

"If you would give it to me?" Ragoczy said, holding out his hand to receive it.

Gutesohnes opened the case and pulled out a chicken-sized package-a wax-sealed wooden box with the impression of a signet-ring showing three sheaves of wheat sunk in the heaviest pooling of wax. "There. I will report to Professor Weissbord that you have received the box."

"Thank you," said Ragoczy, a bit startled. "Professor Weissbord, do you say?" He glanced at the signet-impression. "I see: Weissbord."

"Is something wrong, Comte?" Gutesohnes asked.

"No; nothing," said Ragoczy. "I had a.s.sumed the parcel was from someone else."

"Is this an inconvenience?"

"No, of course not." Ragoczy motioned to the tray. "Finish your meal and think over what I have offered." He went to the door and lifted the latch.

"Comte?" Gutesohnes had managed to gather the courage to speak.

"Yes?" He waited politely for Gutesohnes to go on.