Where Freiburg awed visitors with its sheer size and activity, the fortress city that served as Fauner Posen's capital overwhelmed observers with the might of its defensive structures. Insel was possibly the most secure city on the entire continent. Not even once in its five hundred years had it fallen to an invading force. For generations it had given the Posen family a base from which to govern their lands and now it secured its ruler as the most powerful of the reigning Eisenfurst. Set on an island, surrounded by walls bristling with cannon, and patrolled by Posen´s loyal soldiers, it certainly deserved its reputation.
What could be said for the city in general went double for the imposing structure at the north end of the island. The Posenstadt castle dominated the view of the city below it. Cannons were placed more frequently along its walls, twice as many men marched its perimeter and its mighty double gates and portcullis opened only by order of Eisenfurst Fauner Posen herself or of the gate captain charged with personal responsibility for the keep's defence.
The Montaigne party had not failed to be impressed by Insel's security - a stark contrast to the lawless anarchy they had experienced in Freiburg. The discussions to take place here were vital to the hopes of the exiled nobles of their country, if they could gain friendship with Fauner Posen then they would make a powerful ally. Annette's coach had been stopped at the bridge onto the island and her diplomatic credentials meticulously scrutinised. A rider had been sent to inform the Posenstadt of their approach while a stony-faced officer briefed them on the conditions of their stay.
Suites had been prepared in the fortress. The courtier and her servants were free to move about the guest wing and open garden, but were, on no account, to trespass in other areas without permission. A guard would escort Annette to the Eisenfurst's conference halls when she was required. The visitors could leave the castle by informing the gate captain, but they should be mindful of the strict curfew requiring streets to be cleared by eight o'clock each evening. The Musketeers had not been pleased when told that they must relinquish their rapiers and muskets. Permission to retain their daggers had been small comfort, but the issue was clearly not open for debate.
Comparisons were often drawn between the city and the woman who ruled it. Eisenfurst Fauner Posen was beautiful, deadly and domineering. Still in her twenties and unmarried, she possessed waist-length blonde hair and a gleaming pair of saphire eyes. None who met her made the mistake of referring to the woman as a girl, nor of thinking she was a frail female trying to do a man's job. In a land full of fighters, few were said to be her equal. Fauner had a reputation for attending social gatherings clad in full armour. In this age of firearms and precise fencing blades, such heavy plate was viewed as antiquated and impractical, but the people of Eisen still prized it as part of their heritage. Fauner Posen famously had little patience for politics and the niceties of court, preferring a more militaristic approach to governance. Every decision that affected her lands was made by Fauner herself. Her advisors had very little doubt that their role was merely to obediently implement her decrees.
Annette had come face-to-face with the Eisenfurst during formal introductions at the start of this evening's dinner. On this occasion, Fauner had been satisfied to wear a loose white swordsman's shirt over black leggings and heavy thigh-length boots. A great broadsword hung casually at her waist. In her own gown, with velvet bodice and flowing blue skirts, Annette had felt completely overwhelmed. She had been grateful for the nearby presence of her Musketeers, Stefan de Fer and Sylvia Etalon du Toille, and even more relieved when she got through the proceedings without stumbling over her words or breaching any rules of etiquette. If simply saying 'hello' left her so nervous, she dreaded to think how she would fair during the rigorous negotiations to follow.
A roaring log fire blazed in the great dining hall of the Posenstadt. Modern oil-burning lamps were set on the table and sideboards, but flaming torches still burned in sconces high along the walls, giving the effect of an ancient warrior stronghold. The numerous swords and axes which hung between the torches reinforced this impression. Annette had half-expected to find some roast animal carcass dumped on the table, with guests grabbing handfuls of meat between long swallows of ale. Thankfully the cuisine was more refined, cutlery had been provided and the wine was even quite passable. The evening might almost become enjoyable.
Fauner Posen now sat in a high-backed chair at the head of the table. She paid little attention to the babbling conversation of her guests. Most of her time was spent in debate with the older man seated to her right. Baron Zeigstumpf was a retired soldier who now ran a small military academy. Retirement had added a few pounds to the Baron's already heavy frame and he huffed and puffed past a thick walrus-like moustache. Annette watched in fascination when the Baron's face grew increasingly redder during more heated exchanges, until a final cold word from Fauner forced him to calm down and regain his composure. She wondered what their dispute was about.
Stefan sat immediately beside Annette. They hadn't spoken much during the meal, but she didn't mind. He would be making a polite study of the other guests, of the guards within the room, even of the room itself. Later tonight he would share any observations which might help in her work. Elsewhere within the Posenstadt, Annette's maidservant, Kitty, would be gathering similar intelligence from the servant community. The second of the Musketeers, Sylvia, was seated at the far end of the room. She seemed to have the full attention of one of the young captains of Posen's armies. From the close position of their heads and the smile on Sylvia's lips, Annette couldn't tell if the female Musketeer was engaged in a conversation of business or pleasure.
The unexpected presence of one guest threw Annette completely off-balance and threatened to ruin her whole mission, never mind this evening's dinner. She had known her negotiations with Fauner Posen would be opposed by representatives of Montaigne's post-revolution government, but she was astonished to find herself sitting almost directly opposite Arnaud du Charouse himself. The strength of this man's words had lead her country to tear itself apart and brought about the deaths of hundreds, by now possibly thousands, of the wealthy and high-born. The obsequious little bureaucrat made a point of ignoring Annette and her Musketeers. No doubt it was a tactic he would use to undermine the legitimacy of those representing the exiled nobility of their country.
Annette might have spent the entire evening dwelling on her nerves, if it hadn't been for the presence of the charming girl on her left. Emma von Witte had introduced herself by leaning across, pointing to Arnaud and whispering, "Who is that funny little clerk and why isn't he dining in the servant wing?" The fraulein had a shock of short blonde hair which gave an impish expression to match the cheeky tone of her question. Annette had been delighted, especially when Emma had been no more impressed to learn Arnaud's true position, "It seems that if he has no interest in a monarchy, then he shouldn't be eating with an Iron Prince.’
The two women had spent the remainder of the meal in girlish gossip behind their glasses of wine. The fraulein described herself as the Baron's 'travelling companion', a term which Annette had difficulty translating until supplied with a whispered description of more graphic detail. Emma had laughed at Annette's blushing reaction. She seem quite content to talk about her business, the Baron's business and to pass comment on anybody else within range - Stefan received a particularly glowing appraisal. The girl's giddy conversation and a few more glasses of wine soon had Annette at ease again. It was good to have found at least one new friend in this foreboding setting.
... the young girl knelt, naked and trembling, on the cold stone slabs of the dungeon floor. Wide bands of leather were tightly buckled around each of her wrists and ankles. A short length of chain was fastened between the cuffs on her wrists, holding her arms securely behind her back. Another wide band of leather formed a collar around the captive´s dainty neck. A heavy metal ring hung from the collar to brush against her silky skin, nestling just above the cleft between the girl´s magnificent breasts.
Arnaud du Charouse slowly circled his beautiful prisoner, savouring the helpless fear that radiated from her body. The girl´s head hung low in misery, although the stiff collar forced her head to remain partially lifted, her neck limited in its movement. Enough of her dark tresses had tumbled forward to obscure her tear-stained face, but Arnaud took delight in the sobs she continued to emit. Pitiful cries that shook her shoulders and rippled the glorious curtain of black hair. Long, sensitive fingers curled within their leather cuffs, but the girl had long since learned that freedom was out of reach.
Her captor tapped his stiff leather riding crop against the top of his boots. An amused smile crossed his face when the frightened female flinched at the sound.
“Not to worry, my dear. You´ve tasted enough of the crop for one day.’
The abused girl´s backside almost shone, so bright were the red welts on the sensitive skin. Countless smacks from the leather loop at the tip of the crop had merged into one large glow, brighter lines showing where the length of the cane had delivered a few longer, more precisely placed blows.
Arnaud flicked the crop at each of the trembling girl´s exposed nipples, grinning at the fresh shrieks this brought forth, before placing the whip beneath her chin and raising the damsel´s head, “Ah, Annette, Annette. What will I do with you?’
Annette du Surlign could only look up with tears in her eyes. The question was purely rhetorical - this powerful man had applied her gag himself. A narrow cylinder of smooth wood was gripped between the captive´s teeth, a leather thong fixed to the ends of the wood and bound behind her head. A stream of saliva dripped onto a strand of hair and ran down onto her breasts. A further indignity, if such a thing were possible.
Wrapping a hand in the thick locks of her hair, Arnaud pushed the gagged head towards the bulging crotch of his pantaloons, “Perhaps you can find a way to serve the head of your true government ...’
“I said, do you have anything to add in response?’
The loud and impatient Eisen voice shook Arnaud from his fantasy. Fauner Posen was glaring at him from behind her desk and waiting for a reply. That hateful girl from the deposed nobles looked on in amusement.
Arnaud blinked and rallied himself to form an answer, “Only to reiterate that although Anne du Montaigne continues to call herself Princess and claims to act as a regent, she has no legal position from which to bargain. With respect, your only business with our country is your business with my parliament.’
He silently cursed himself for letting his mind wander. Raids of a certain Marquis´ estates had revealed a vast library of ‘specialised´ books. Arnaud had been quick to decry them as further evidence of the perverted debaucheries of nobility, but he had made certain that not all copies made it to the bonfires. Perhaps it had been a mistake to read them during the long trip to Eisen.
It was small wonder that this Annette girl was the subject of his daydreams. She was proving to be a much more capable opponent than he would have expected. Given that Posen seemed unlikely to dismiss her out of hand, Arnaud´s own arguments would have to be that bit more persuasive. He trusted that his recent ally would provide the decisive advantage.
Stefan de Fer idlely observed the change of guards on the Posenstadt walls. The twelve men currently on duty formed into lines and marched to the officer stationed at the portcullis. The captain noted the time, made a mark in his massive log book and dismissed the soldiers. A second squad were already assembled in the courtyard. At a signal from the captain, they filed passed their colleagues and took their positions on the massive stone defences. It was done with the efficiency of well-practiced routine.
The Musketeer turned away with a sigh. That was probably the end of his excitement for the morning. Stefan was bored. Very bored. There was turning out to be very little for the Musketeers to do during this mission. Their restricted access to the castle and the constant presence of the Posenstadt guards meant that their security duties were all but redundant. Annette spent most of the day locked in long meetings with Fauner Posen and most of her evenings reviewing progress while preparing for the next day. Stefan would like to be able to help more, but the subtleties of diplomacy were often lost on him.
"I thought that I would find you here again."
The bright voice made Stefan look up with a smile. The young Eisen girl, Emma von Witte, was walking towards him from across the gardens. The Baron's business made few demands on the fraulein's time. For the last few mornings she and Stefan had passed long hours together. She was pleasant company in this fortress of dour guards and busy diplomats.
Emma fell in step beside Stefan, her long skirts brushing across the grass, "How is Annette getting on? Running rings around that nasty little man yet?"
Stefan laughed, "I think she's getting there. She has come up with a clever plan to win Fauner over. Eisen has been shattered by war, our nation devastated by revolution. Fauner has long called for a single Imperator to unite the Iron Princes, we want a restored monarchy to heal Montaigne. If the parallels are drawn then Fauner must have some sympathy for our cause."
"That is clever," gushed Emma. She made a mental note to warn Arnaud about the vehemence of his anti-royalist sentiments, lest he antagonise Fauner. The girl slipped her hand around Stefan's arm. He gave a momentary pause before placing his hand on top of hers, chivalrously providing support as they walked.
The fraulein continued her feigned admiration, "Annette must be very important. Imagine being able to sign treaties for an entire country!"
"Oh, she's not that powerful. Anything Annette agrees will need to be ratified by the Princess back in Wische."
This was also of note. Arnaud spoke directly for his parliament. This should give him an edge if push came to shove.
Emma stepped before Stefan and shifted to a new part of her strategy. She rested both hands on his chest and gazed up through long lashes, "You must miss her when she's so busy. I'm glad that we have each other."
The Musketeer raised an eyebrow, not certain that he was reading her meaning correctly, "It is nice to have somebody to talk to."
The girl's arms began to slip around his body, "But we could be doing so much more than talking."
Stefan's eyes widened. He took her arms and gently pushed her away, "I'm not sure that your Baron would approve, my lady."
"The Baron pays for my body at night, Stefan. He doesn't care about me the rest of the time. I'm offering you a gift of friendship." She stepped closer, playfully taking hold of his tabard and drawing their bodies near.
A distinct cough made them both turn. Kitty stood with an unimpressed expression. She looked balefully at Stefan, "Madame Annette sent me. She will be breaking early for lunch and invites you to join her in your suite."
The Musketeer clumsily extracted himself from Emma's grip, flushing in embarrassment, "Thank-you, Kitty. I will be delighted to do so." He bowed stiffly, "Farewell, fraulein."
The young maidservant shot a filthy look at the Eisen girl before flouncing after her mistress' husband. Emma watched them leave and gave an amused smirk. A few more minutes and she was sure that she could have worn down the Musketeer's resolve. Not that it really mattered, their conversations of the last few days had gained enough of his trust to keep the plan on target. Still, she would have to make certain that the pesky little maid was not in a position to interfere when the time came for the more critical parts of her employer´s scheme.
Elsewhere in the castle, Sylvia was also searching for some company. As she headed through the maze of drafty stone corridors of the guest wing, she was pleased to spy the handsome young captain from the first evening's dinner. The female Musketeer ran to catch him up, shaking loose her long flowing locks, grateful that indoor duty meant she wasn't wearing her wide-brimmed hat. Stefan wasn't the only Musketeer to take pride in their appearance.
"Captain Drozden!" she called out. She was hoping to coax him into a private tour of the castle.
The officer stopped with a frown. He drew himself to attention on spotting the young woman's approach and nodded politely, "Good-day, mademoiselle."
Sylvia gave a warm smile and casually indicated the rooms behind the captain, "I didn't know that you had business with the Baron."
For an instant the officer's expression froze, "Why do you say that?"
"No reason,’ she replied, surprised at his sharp tone, “Just that those are his quarters, aren't they?"
"You are mistaken, mademoiselle. That corridor connects to the barracks. I have no idea where Baron Zeigstumpf is lodged."
Sylvia frowned. She was certain that these were the Baron's rooms and she was also sure that the captain had emerged from a door along the corridor, not the heavier double doors at its end. She was disappointed that he felt the need to lie to her. Still, it was hardly her business and he may have his reasons. She decided not to make an issue of the matter.
"Perhaps you are right. I am new to the castle after all." She tried to approach a different subject, hoping to win him over with professional flattery, "I noticed your men returning from their patrols this morning. They looked very smart. Does your unit also maintain a stand-by presence to support those that guard the castle?"
"As I explained during our dinner, my company patrols the surrounding countryside. Protecting the castle is left to the other captains. I command three units that rotate their patrols. Although they return here every few days for inspection and to resupply, none are garrisoned here - other than myself."
This didn't ring true either. Sylvia was starting to become suspicious. Like Stefan, she had found herself with a lot of free time and spent much of it observing her Eisen counterparts. She had seen one of the captain's units march in early this morning. When they left a few hours later there were definitely a dozen men less.
She opened her mouth to clarify, but the captain raised his hand and impatiently interrupted, "I am afraid you will have to excuse me. Unlike you, I do have duties to attend. Good-day."
Sylvia fumed as he marched away. Two lies in as many minutes was one thing, but to give her the cold shoulder - the beautiful and charming Sylvia Etalon du Toille? The man was clearly up to no good. The Musketeer began to suspect that there was something going on in this castle other than the discussions between the two Montaigne parties.
Kitty ran to answer the knock at the door of the Montaigne guest suite. She was surprised, and not best pleased, to find Emma von Witte standing there with a sweet smile, “Fraulein, Madame Annette has not returned yet this evening. I presume it is she that you are looking for?’
Emma stepped boldly into the room and looked about with a confident air, “Actually, my dear, it´s you that I came to find.’
“Me?’
“Yes,’ the Eisen woman began to play the bright silver ring she wore, “You see, I really can´t have you interfering in my affairs with Stefan. I´m here to make sure that doesn´t happen again.’
Kitty backed away nervously. The fraulein´s smile was quite unnerving and she really didn´t like the tone of her comments, “I think perhaps that you should leave, fraulein.’
The Eisen's smile became hard and predatory, "Calm down, dear." She reached out a hand towards the young girl´s face. The maid twisted away, but Emma flashed forwards like a snake. The hand grasped Kitty´s neck and she felt a slight pin prick as the ring was pushed against her skin.
Emma stepped back and laughed when Kitty fell gracelessly onto the floor, "That's better, isn't it? I do hate it when women get hysterical. Flirting with your mistress´ husband isn´t just a game. We need his unwitting co-operation to discredit Annette´s negotiations.’
Kitty struggled to move. Her limbs felt like lead, "Stefan would never work against Annette.’ The words came out slurred.
"Obviously not knowingly, no.’ Emma knelt and produced a long length of silk. She pulled Kitty's arms behind her back and swiftly and tightly bound the poor girl's wrists, "Oh, don't worry. The poison in your veins isn't fatal. No, you remain of use to us while you´re still alive. A little extra insurance, you understand?“ A folded wad of cloth was forced between Kitty´s lips and bound in place with another bright scarf, gagging her last feeble cries.
Emma stood and dragged her victim upright, her smile was now feral and completely insane. She moved to the open door and give a signal. Two footmen appeared, pushing a large wicker hamper. Its lid was thrown back to reveal a pile of dirty bed linen. Kitty´s faint sobs were barely audible as she was lifted and dumped among the sheets. Drugged and bound, she had no chance for escape. She tried to scream when the lid was pulled closed and buckled shut, but her muffled cries sounded faint even to her. Those beside the hamper probably never even heard.
Emma handed a sparkling jewel to each of the footmen, “You will see that she is delivered safely to the correct address? I assume you can get her out of the castle.’
One nodded, “The guards ignore servants like us and goods are only searched on the way in.’
She smiled. Things were going well so far. The devious woman moved across to a writing desk and scribbled a hasty note, “Annette - You must come to my rooms at once. Come alone. Emma.’ Now for the coups-de-gras.
“Monsieur! Monsieur, may I have a moment of your time?’
Stefan paused in his step and turned towards the soft Eisen voice. Fraulein Emma von Witte was rushing along the cold stone corridors to catch up with him. She was slightly out of breath and smiled in self-conscious embarrassment when she reached the Musketeer´s side.
“Fraulein, good evening. Annette will be concluding her discussions with Eisenfurst Posen shortly. Is there some way I can help you?’
The beautiful girl noted the slightly cold tone and cast her eyes down in further embarrassment, “Forgive me, I just wanted to invite you to share a drink - to apologise for any ... ah, misunderstanding? ... about my earlier behaviour.’ She dared to look up with large, hopeful eyes, “I would hate to think that I had said or done anything to harm my friendship with you or your wife.’
Stefan carefully considered the fraulein. ‘Misunderstanding´ would not have been his choice of words for their earlier encounter. He had been grateful when Kitty arrived before Emma could continue her none-too-subtle advances. Still, she did seem to have taken the message. Stefan smiled graciously. There was no point in prolonging the girl´s discomfort and, as she said, both he and his wife had enjoyed her offer of friendship in this strict land, “Very well, fraulein. Perhaps one glass, but then I must attend my wife.’
A quick smile and nod of relieved pleasure flashed across the young lady´s pale features - an expression that masked the more sinister glee she was truly feeling.
A wave of cold nausea passed through Stefan´s body. He shuddered with a groan and tried to peer through the darkness clouding his vision, wondering blearily why he was lying on the floor.
“Good, I´m glad you´re awake. I do apologise for the drugged wine, but it made it so much easier to drag you here.’
Drugged wine? The drink with Fraulein von Witte! Stefan weakly tried to push himself upright. Memories started to return - the odd taste of the wine, looking up in confusion at Emma´s laughter then feeling his feeble legs collapse beneath him.
A smooth hand gently stroked his cheek in false compassion. The fraulein knelt beside him with a mocking smile, “You probably don´t recognise this room, do you? It´s Fauner Posen´s private War Room. I´m quite sure that she´ll be fascinated to know why you are in here. Especially when she finds these confidential documents in your possession.’ A folded paper was held in Stefan´s view before being tucked into his belt.
“Why?’ the Musketeer tried to gather his wits and clear his muddled thoughts.
“Why? Because your dear wife is starting to irritate my employer. He feels that the negotiations are not going entirely his way and wishes to ruin you before Fauner Posen. Annette will be forced to withdraw - if she is lucky - and he can secure any agreement he pleases.’
“Your employer? The Baron?’
Emma laughed again, “The Baron! Oh, dear me, no. The Baron was just a convenient way to travel here. No, Stefan, my employer is Arnaud du Charouse. I must say, it´s been quite fun passing along your wife´s plans and secrets. I will miss being in her confidence.’
The Musketeer used a table to stand unsteadily, cursing his stupidity for being taken in by this treacherous woman. His duty was to aid and protect his wife. Now it looked like he might be the unwitting instrument of her downfall.
The fraulein skipped lightly to the door, “Now that you´re on your feet, you´ll excuse me while I call for Posen´s guards. If you´re quick you may make it to the end of the corridor before they apprehend you. Fauner may even go easy for a first time spying offence.’ Blowing a parting kiss, she left her helpless victim to wait for the final jaws of the trap to close.
“Emma, what´s going on? I found your note. I can´t find Kitty or Stefan. Do you know where they are?’ Annette burst into the fraulein´s rooms. She was obviously distraught, her eyes wide with concern.
Emma took hold of her hand and patted it reassuringly, drawing the young courtier further into the room, “Follow me, Annette. There is somebody here who can explain everything.’
Annette obediently followed into the other woman´s parlour. She came to a sudden halt and stared in astonishment. Arnaud du Charouse lounged in a cushioned chair. His legs were crossed casually and he smiled most warmly as he beckoned Annette to another seat. Emma moved behind Arnaud and rested a hand on his shoulder.
Hesitantly, Annette sat down, her hands nervously gripped the polished arms of the wooden chair, “What is this about? Why are you here, monsieur?’
... ropes circled the nude girl´s wrists, pressing her forearms firmly to the chair. Similar rope was passed around her slender ankles, her legs pulled back and apart, where they were bound to the rear chair legs. The short curls of her most private region peaked teasingly between her open thighs. Thick coils of rope at her stomach and throat ensured the captive sat proudly upright. A glimmer of sweet defiance still remained in her perfect brown eyes ...
Arnaud blinked the enticing vision away, “My dear Annette, you will shortly hear that your husband has been arrested on charges of spying.’ He held up a hand to silence her protests, “Yes, we both know that it isn´t true, but that´s hardly the point. Even though my associate and I couldn´t come up with a way to implicate you directly, the damage to your reputation will be quite considerable. I have little doubt that Fauner will order you from her lands.’
He smiled and continued, “You should also know that we hold your maidservant as a hostage. She is safe, for now, and will remain unharmed if you behave. However, if there is any attempt to deny the charges against the Musketeer or to make accusations against me, then I am afraid that we will be forced to kill the girl. Is this clear?’
Annette nodded silently. She couldn´t really comprehend what was going on. How had they done this? Where was Stefan? She looked imploringly at Emma, the woman she thought was a friend. The traitor just gave a cold sneer and ran her fingers along Arnaud´s neck.
The villain smiled again, “You´ve done quite well so far, I must say. If it wasn´t for the fraulein´s little tips, I might have been hard pressed to keep up with your debating skills. But surely you must have known you were out of your league?’ He indicated that Annette should stand, “I suggest that you return to your own rooms now. No doubt Fauner´s guards will soon come looking for you.’
Annette was still dazed as she stood, “Please don´t hurt Kitty.’ She couldn´t think of anything else to say. At the moment she felt truly beaten, out-positioned by one who played a much more deadly game of politics.
... the prisoner was dragged away, her arms bound tightly behind her, her steps hobbled by the short length of chain between her ankle shackles. Her master watched her depart, enjoying the sight of her bowed head and dropped shoulders. They all learned submission in the end. It was only ever a question of how much pleasure and pain was needed in the process ...
Arnaud smiled wider, satisfied that his victory was close. Perhaps he could even persuade the girl to help act out his favourite scenes from the Marquis´ little book?
