Redemption Page 5

reached out and turned the key. The door swung open and on the other side stood three men, wrapped in their cloaks. Two of the three faced out into the street, watching, for what he didn't know, but the third turned to face Winterburne.

  Frederick lifted the hood from his face, turning his head to speak over his shoulder to the men standing silent at his back. 'Wait here,' he said.

  The two men stayed where they were, only glancing up and down the street from time to time, and Winterburne suspected that they would be heavily armed beneath their cloaks, even if their weapons were not visible to him at the moment. He stepped back into the room to allow Frederick to enter.

  'I apologise for the early hour, Winterburne,' Frederick said as he entered, removing his gloves and cloak, 'but, Lawrence tells me that today is scheduled to be an extremely busy day. It seems that I am obliged to present the Emperor's Trophy later, it has already been postponed by a day, for my benefit. I had tried to arrange for my wife to present the damn thing, but it seems, according to her, that I would never live it down and, as she also says, affairs of state must continue as expected. She's probably right. As usual.'

  Winterburne stared at the Emperor, who had more to say, by the look on his face.

  'As well as that,' Frederick continued, 'I suspect that the Governors will be wanting to leave as soon as they may and I will be expected to bid them a farewell of sorts.' He paused, a look of distaste crossing his face. 'Although, in truth, I have no stomach for either affair. None of it seems important any more.' He smiled at Winterburne. 'Still,' he said, 'life goes on, eh?'

  'Yes, Sire,' Winterburne replied.

  He had no idea what this visit was about, but often where the Emperor was concerned it was just better to see where the conversation went.

  'Still untidy in here, I see.' Frederick crinkled his nose. 'It doesn't smell too fresh either.'

  By the Emperor's standards he was being polite and courteous but nonetheless Winterburne could sense the tension that had filtered into the room with him as he entered. He had been right, the feelings he had been having about their meeting had been building towards this moment, he felt, and so he waited. Whatever had brought the Emperor here this morning, it couldn't be good.

  'I've been thinking,' Frederick said, 'there are times when things need to be shaken up a little. Don't you think?' He smiled a thin lipped smile, without warmth or friendship. 'Things become stale. People become de-motivated. Frequently encountered obstacles become somewhat...shall we say, predictable and tedious.'

  'At times, I suppose.' Winterburne wasn't sure why he felt uncomfortable, but he was having the same feeling that he had experienced whilst laying on his bed, and it wasn't going away. 'But don't we all feel like that at times?'

  'I suppose so,' Frederick said, lowering himself into the chair near the now cold fire. 'But, I have been wondering,' he said, 'whether this was indeed one of those times.' He paused for a moment. 'Tell me, do you ever have a need to reprimand your staff?'

  Winterburne frowned. So this was why he had felt the way he did. Despite the sarcasm, Martell had been right about the Emperor not being happy, and the depth of his feeling had to be great if it had brought him all the way here in person.

  'I try not to have to, Sire.' He scratched his head and made his way across to the bed, sitting and grabbing his other boot. 'I always like to hope they have enough respect for me to try to do the right thing.'

  'Quite right,' Frederick replied. 'Treat people like adults. I quite agree.'

  Winterburne pushed his bare foot into the other boot and it thumped down onto the floor. He looked up at the Emperor. 'May I ask why you came here, Sire?'

  Frederick paused for a second before saying, 'To ask you a question.' He tapped his fingers on the arm of the chair for a moment, and then turned his head to look across the room at Winterburne. 'What would you do if two of your best watchmen were fighting all the time?'

  'Split them up, I suppose.' Winterburne paused for a moment. 'I might send the main culprit away to cool down, and to think about things for a little while.'

  'That was, indeed, my first thought,' Frederick said, nodding. 'But I cannot send him away, for he has no obvious place to go. It struck me that I could always send the lesser culprit instead.'

  'It is perhaps more akin to natural justice to punish the greater transgressor, Sire.'

  'Indeed,' Frederick replied, 'hence my dilemma. So, I wondered what you thought that I should do in similar circumstances?'

  So finally, this, Winterburne realised, was the reason why the Emperor had come all the way from the Palace to see him. 'Am I being dismissed, Your Highness?'

  'No,' Frederick said, 'not exactly.'

  'Not exactly? What then?'

  Frederick picked at a loose thread in the material of the arm of the chair and then looked back at Winterburne. His eyes were cold and emotionless. 'When was the last time you saw your family?'

  'You're sending me away?'

  'I cannot send you anywhere, Winterburne,' Frederick said. 'You have committed no crime. In fact, by your deeds, you have become somewhat of a hero, and no doubt the tale of your deeds is already being told in the alehouses and barrack rooms. It is merely a thought.'

  'Then why do I get the feeling that I have no option,' Winterburne said. His heart sank. Highport had been his life for so long that he could not imagine his world without the daily routine.

  'You should be grateful. At least you have somewhere to go.' Frederick stood and picked up his cloak, swinging it around his shoulders. 'Think on it,' he said. He walked over to the door, opening it wide on the morning and taking a deep breath of the cold air. Then he turned to face Winterburne. 'And thank you, again, for what you did the other night,' he said.

  Winterburne stood in numb silence as he watched the door close behind the Emperor.

  oOo

  The pile of dirty clothes lay in the darkened corner of the room; a pile so ancient that Winterburne had forgotten that he even had some of the items buried deep within it. As he turned through the garments, a damp, musty smell rose from the clothing almost punching his senses into action. Something that felt damp passed through his fingers, but he didn't care to linger to investigate. He knew that the target of his search was there, though, close to the bottom; his heavy canvas bag, dyed brown to hide the worst of the road-dirt. He grabbed it and shook off the garments that seemed to cling to it as if looking for rescue from their imprisonment.

  Winterburne carried the bag over to the table and threw it down on the top, pulling it out to its full extent. He stuffed in a few creased shirts taken from his bed, a few spare pants, and some leggings, just enough to get him across country to the Winterburne estate. He wouldn't need much for the journey anyway, it was only four days away by horse, and even then who knew when, or even if, he had decided, he would be returning to this place.

  His hand reached out to the tabletop for the batch of waybread that he kept just for times like this. It could last for months if stored correctly and it had been carefully wrapped in wax-paper to keep it dry on the road. Although the biscuits were thick and tasteless and not at all appetising they would at least keep him sustained even if they never filled his belly. Anyway, he hoped that he wouldn't need it, he planned on catching rabbit, or wood dove, but should he find that his luck was out he would at least had something to fill the hole.

  The front door creaked opened, slowly at first then more quickly, and a small pale hand appeared on the edge. 'Thomas?' Alyssa's voice cut through the gloom.

  Winterburne closed his eyes and his heart sank. He sighed. Why now? he thought. A quiet getaway was all that he had wanted. Had that been too much to ask?

  'I went to the Watch House,' Alyssa said, poking her head around the door, 'but they told me that they hadn't seen you today.' She bounced into the room, a beaming smile on her face. 'I wondered if you wanted to come with me to see the Emperor give out the Trophy?'

  Winterburne pulled on the draw-string of his bag, closi
ng it tight, his eyes moving up to look up at her. His face was motionless, but Alyssa had already seen what he was doing and her eyes changed, filling themselves full with confused, unspoken questions.

  'I can't go with you,' he said.

  Alyssa looked down at the packed bag, and then up into Winterburne's eyes. Her brow furrowed. 'What are you doing?' Alyssa's voice sounded weak. 'Are you leaving?'

  Winterburne's heart ached. The last thing he wanted to do was to hurt Alyssa, and it was all he could do but stop himself from changing his mind and taking her in his arms. It was true that he had deep feelings for her, but right now, he just needed to get away. Without his job, his men, and the life he thought he might have built with her, he was nothing.

  'You were hoping that you wouldn't see me, weren't you?' Alyssa asked.

  'I'm so sorry.'

  'About what?' She reached out to try to take his hand. 'What's happened?' she asked. 'I don't understand. Please talk to me.'

  Winterburne stepped backwards, avoiding the touch that Alyssa had offered. 'I have to go away for a while,' he said. He found himself feeling empty, and he had no idea how to deal with the situation. He wished that things could be different, but there was no going back now.

  'For how long?' Alyssa searched his face.

  Winterburne shrugged.

  'You're not coming back are you?' Alyssa asked. 'Why not? What's changed? I don't understand.'

  'The last