The Chemickal Marriage

you know Mr Drusus Schoepfil?’
    Bronque looked up, but Foison’s question was for Chang. Chang shook his head.
    ‘With the death of Lydia Vandaariff, Drusus Schoepfil has become his uncle’s heir. Do
you
know him, Colonel?’
    ‘We’ve met in passing. Queer duck.’
    ‘Indeed.’ Foison traced a slim finger across the map. ‘As you set your roadblocks, you might also post men to the Crampton and Packington railway stations. Any train to Harschmort must pass them both – that way we needn’t bother with the madhouse of Stropping. We ourselves will visit Mr Schoepfil’s home.’
    ‘My understanding is that Mr Schoepfil and his uncle do not speak. Why would Mrs Kraft fix her revenge on him?’
    ‘Not her revenge, Colonel,
theirs
. What the woman needs is an ally.’
    Bronque hesitated. ‘I’ve no wish to be indelicate, but, in all honesty, why would he betray his uncle
now
? If Lord Vandaariff’s health is on the wane –’
    ‘Will you join us or not?’ asked Foison.
    Bronque slapped the map hard. The aide grunted at the impact, then rolled it up. The Colonel gave his orders, detailing men to roadblocks and the railway stations, and others to accompany them on their search. Bronque’s hand found the hilt of his sabre, gloved fingers curling around the guard.
    ‘So. Let us see if this insight into her mind is sound.’
    Foison extended a finger to Bronque’s gold epaulette. ‘Spot of blood.’
    The path to Schoepfil’s house, even accompanied by two dozen soldiers, required detours – around refugees, looting and roadblocks. The last they could have negotiated with Bronque, but the Colonel avoided the contact, preferring their errand to remain unknown.
    ‘Why didn’t you bring Gorine?’ Chang asked. ‘He could have been your hostage.’
    ‘I didn’t plan this,’ Bronque replied testily. ‘I came with dispatches from Her Majesty to Lord Axewith – this is at Lord Vandaariff’s insistence. I should not have rated the fate of a brothel-mistress above a burning city, but he does, and now every other duty must hang.’
    ‘You came all the way from Bathings?’
    ‘None of your damned business.’
    The chaos Chang had witnessed in his flight with Cunsher had grown worse. Each face they passed – whether helmeted soldier or stricken citizen – showed how beyond the grip of authority the crisis had become. Even the men he walked with – Bronque’s soldiers and Foison’s lackeys, ostensibly agents of order – passed through the city as if it were a place for which they bore neither responsibility nor affection. It burnt around them, and by all it was ignored. Surely these men had wives, children, homes – why hadn’t they fled to save their own? Instead, every one did his best to save Robert Vandaariff.
    Schoepfil’s residence was a cube of soot-stained granite whose unadornment spelt out the estrangement from his mighty uncle’s wealth. Bronque sent men to the rear of the house before mounting the steps. A servant welcomed them in and explained that Mr Schoepfil was not home.
    ‘Do you know where we might find him?’ asked Foison. ‘Our errand comes from the Privy Minister.’
    ‘I cannot say, sir.’ The servant did not blanch at Foison’s appearance or Chang’s, not even at the leash of chain.
    ‘The matter is extremely important. It concerns his uncle, and Mr Schoepfil’s inheritance.’
    ‘Indeed, sir. If I do hear from him, what message shall I give?’
    ‘That Lord Vandaariff’s health –’ began Foison, but Bronque cut in.
    ‘Tell him the woman and the black man were seen and his only hope is immediate surrender.’
    The servant nodded, as if this threat was of a piece with everything else that had been said. ‘Very good, sir. I will do my best to convey the message.’
    Back on the street, Foison whispered. ‘Do not apprehend the courier – we must follow.’
    ‘I know my business,’ the Colonel replied tersely. At a signal his men melted into the darkness. ‘As you see, I am happy to provoke the man, though I remain unconvinced Lord Vandaariff’s nephew will lead us to this woman. More likely, her own people hide her –’
    ‘Madelaine Kraft is not
hiding
,’ said Chang.
    ‘You don’t know that. Any more than I see how she’s worth our time.’
    Chang said nothing, yet the Colonel’s comment raised a question as to the true – with regard to Robert Vandaariff – object of their search.
    ‘What does Drusus Schoepfil
do
?’ Chang asked