Cross Purposes
by Concolor44
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Author's Note:
As advertised, this is being told in roughly chronological order. That means that there are going to be some things happening that you, Gentle Reader, did not encounter in the "Prototype" version. Just play along, and I think you'll be happy with the result.
Chapter One: Introductions
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Arendelle Fjord – Tuesday 09 November 1841, 4:00pm
"Aren't you cold?"
The woman at the ship's railing turned her head, giving the speaker a profile of an aquiline nose, smiling red lips and a dark eye. "Hardly. Unlike you, Eduardo, I brought appropriate clothing."
The man stepped closer, laid a gloved hand on the polished wood, and examined her attire. "So I see. By the Saints, Sofia, where did you find furs of this kind in Madrid?"
"I have connections."
He shivered a little. "Would have been nice if you'd connected me to your source." Fingering his full-length coat, he said, "I fear this wool will not be up to the task."
"Probably not, given what I've heard of these northern winters. Doubtless, you can purchase what you need once we get settled in."
"If we get settled in."
"Pessimist."
Giving his head a rueful shake, he countered, "Realist."
"I think you underestimate our chances. If there is one fact we may all count on, it is that Queen Elsa is reliably hospitable. This much, at least, may be considered common knowledge."
"To the point where she won't object to half a dozen of the Spanish Court showing up unannounced? We shall see."
Eduardo's twin Emilio came up to stand on Sofia's other side. "Quite the fetching view, is it not?"
"Yes," agreed Sofia. "You see, Eduardo, your brother isn't such a doom-crow."
"He's a student of architecture. Of course anything new and different is going to catch his eye!"
They were within easy sight of the castle by then, and would be docked and debarked in less than twenty minutes. The day being fine and clear (notwithstanding the frigid breeze) they could see every tiny detail of the huge edifice's construction. Emilio remarked, "That roof of light blue slates makes a real statement. I can't recall ever seeing such a … regular pattern. As if each tile was identical to the rest."
Eduardo agreed. "They certainly do seem to keep it in good repair. It reflects well on the Queen."
"Tomás did say one tidbit he picked up on when he was here in August was that she was a stickler for appearances."
"So. Standard royalty." Sofia leaned her elbows on the rail and studied the approaching city. "No surprises, then. I've dealt with her sort before. This should be straightforward and easy."
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Port de Calais, France – 5:00pm
From her vantage point on the ship's deck, a regally-dressed woman pointed an imperious finger, shouting in carefully inflected French, "Be careful with that trunk! It must not be tilted! Can't you read the directions on the bill? Or can you even read?"
The two longshoremen, grumbling, readjusted their grips and continued lugging the huge, heavy article up the gangplank.
She crossed her arms with a scowl. "Honestly, one would think there might be at least one brain among you."
They shot her a couple of sullen glares, but didn't say anything.
Several paces down the dock the ship's master swore under his breath. "What does she think this is, the royal fuckin' flagship?"
Louis Cardin, who was (according to the papers he carried) the Attaché to the French Ambassador to Belgium, looked up from his journal and gave the other man a hard stare. "Captain? Do you have a problem with her gold?"
"I got a problem with her fuckin' attitude! She treats my men like fuckin' bugs!"
"She is related to Royalty. What would you expect?" In truth, he knew she had been Royalty, for she was none other than Maria Christina, the deposed Queen Regent of Spain. That was not, however, the role she played at present.
Captain Jean Raibillard leaned over the railing and spat. "Just 'cause she's the get of some Duke or Prince or what, that don't mean she's better'n nobody else. Fuckin' bitch. Acts like we're somethin' she'd scrape off her shoe."
Cardin sighed. It was just this sort of Populist attitude that he and his cronies were trying to stamp out. "Captain … please understand that she is not simply 'the next passenger'. She is Anna Teresa Julia Magdelena von Treberg, first cousin to Empress Maria Anna, wife of Ferdinand V, and a Countess of Savoy in her own right. She is going to Arendelle to establish an Embassy for Austria. Our aim is that she will secure the aid of the Snow Queen in the upcoming conflict with Italy. Sir, you should know that she carries the hope of all nobility against those horrid Republicans now besieging the halls of power all over the Continent!"
"Like I give two shits what Ferdinand thinks … or whether Austria sinks or burns. Or Savoy, either." He spat again. "Mark my words: won't be long 'fore France don't have a King no more. Common folks got a taste o' what the Republic could be, an' Louis Phillipe ain't payin' attention. We get one good drought, an' it'll be all over."
Giving him another level stare, Cardin asked, "What do you mean?"
"I got ears, don't I? He tries every year to bring back the ancien régime. 'tween his politics an' his taxes …" The Captain shrugged. "I ain't political, m'self, but I see which way the wind's blowin'." He shot a glance at Cardin and snorted. "An' if Miss Holy-Poly-Snoot over there thinks she can get Queen Elsa to back her up, she's got a rude surprise waitin' on her in Arendelle."
"That remains to be seen." He returned his attention to his papers. "I'm sure you have many duties to attend to, Captain."
Recognizing the curt dismissal as an effort to save what face the Ambassador had left, Captain Raibillard walked off to speak to the Harbormaster.
Narrow eyes followed him. That one will warrant watching.
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Arendelle Castle – Wednesday 10 November 1841, 9:30am
Elsa sat still for a few breaths, absorbing the news. At length she set the parchment on her desk and looked up at Jørgen. "And they've taken rooms in a hostel?"
"Yes, Majesty. The Stooping Hawk."
"This is highly irregular. We received no notice from the Spanish Court." She ran a finger over the wax seal at the end of the missive. "This looks like Espartero's signet. I am not, however, an expert. It could be a forgery." Tapping her finger several times, she looked again at the introduction. "I have only superficial knowledge of the Spanish Court. The only name on here I am at all familiar with is Tomás Banderas, and even then only because he was the other Spaniard present at Anna's wedding, and she'd remarked on it."
"Perhaps Señor de la Maria could be of aid."
"I'm sure of it." She allowed herself a tiny smile.
"May I assume he is on the way?"
"You make an accurate assumption."
Jørgen chuckled ruefully. He didn't know all the ins and outs of Elsa's power, but he had been let in on the secret (no real details, of course) that she and her fiancé had some kind of arcane ability to communicate with each other remotely. He had wished, practically every day since this revelation, that he could do it with his own wife. It would have made a lot of things easier.
Just under a minute had passed when there came a rapid triple-knock. Jørgen, standing right by the door in anticipation, opened it immediately to admit Carlos. He trotted over to the desk, leaned over and gave Elsa a quick, gentle kiss, then turned his attention to the late announcement.
"Okay. Let's see. Besides Banderas we have … hmm. Sofia Ventura de Tejada y Fernandez. I remember her, but it's been a few years. She's Ignacio's daughter."
"Ignacio?"
"Sorry. He's the Duke of Lugo, and you can bet the apple didn't fall far from that tree. A sharper Court politician you would have been hard pressed to find, and she can only have gotten better since then."
"What's she doing here?"
"Don't worry, we'll find out." The next name on the list, Diego de la Cruz, made him think for a moment. "Unless I miss my guess, he's the nephew of the Marquis of Altamira, which means he has access to more money than he can ever live to spend."
She arched a brow. "More than yours?"
"More than a few times as much as mine."
"Hmm. And your fortune eclipses our royal treasury. So, he's probably not here after Arendelle's vast monetary resources."
"Yyyeah, no. I'd say not."
"Again, then, the mystery is why he's here at all."
"I'm fairly certain they want to try to influence you into an alliance with Spain."
Regarding him narrowly for a few breaths, Elsa finally asked, "And what would be your view on such a goal?"
He shrugged. "Right now, Arendelle has only the most tenuous of dealings with Spain. They buy a little ice … and recently some dried cod."
"Such an arrangement … might have some potential. If trade is truly what they're after."
His hand gave hers a quick squeeze. "We'll figure it out."
"I hope." She pointed back to the message.
He picked up where he'd been reading. "Ah. Now these two, I know. Eduardo and Emilio Santos are the nephews of the Marquis of Santillana."
"You know them, or know of them?"
"I know them. Well, Eduardo, mainly. He's a good man."
"You're just all kinds of comforting."
He grinned at her. "One might infer that you're worried. You don't honestly think these people present any kind of threat, do you?"
"Threat? No. Irritant? Highly probable."
Carlos looked back at the parchment. "Okay … this Gerardo Garza … he's not ringing any bells."
"And that does bother me. You think he could be another assassin?"
"As a member of this group? Unlikely enough to make me dismiss the idea out of hand. Eduardo is a shrewd fellow. Under no circumstances would he have anything to do with an assassin." Carlos frowned in thought. Elsa could tell his mind was racing, trying to come up with …
"He might be related to the Duke of Frías. If he's the Garza I think he is. It's not an uncommon name, though. Could be anyone."
"Well, okay, then. What other sorts of business could they have in Arendelle?"
He pointed at a passage in the introduction. "Maybe what they say they want to do? Set up an Embassy. Examine possible opportunities for trade. Formalize relations. They don't necessarily have to be harboring any evil motives."
"It all seems a bit rushed, though, don't you think?"
"Maybe it's the timetable they had. Banderas was here in late August. It took him a couple of weeks or more to travel back to Madrid. He had to make a report to someone, and then whoever that was would need to make a determination of what to do about relations with Arendelle. They would have to consider, carefully, your magic's widely-confirmed lethality."
"But I have less than zero designs on conquest!"
"Hey, you know that, and I know that, but what guarantee does … well, for example, King Louis Phillipe have? Remember Mikael's description of 'throwing down lightning on Paris like the hammer of God'?"
"How could I forget? I didn't sleep for two nights!"
"Well, there you go."
"But we sold fifteen hundred tons of fish to the French! And they got a bargain, too. How could they think we have evil motives?"
"You're assuming that they think at all. In my experience, the general run of rulers in Europe lack the brain-power to make the call logically … and that goes double for the House of Orleans."
"Lovely."
"Anyway, back to timetables. Banderas arrives in Madrid, reports to his superior, and then has to cool his heels while they think it over. Once Espartero makes up his mind-"
"You truly think it went to the top?"
"You have to ask? I know the man. He's the elected Regent General, and knows he could be un-elected without much fuss. By the last information I had heard, his party's position is precarious, so he's going to look for every angle he can find to stay in power."
"Let me guess. I'm one of his 'angles'?"
"Most likely."
"I hate, hate, hate politics."
"So do I. So … the delegation would need to be chosen and vetted and gathered. Actually, I'm kind of impressed they were able to get back up here this season. Someone higher up must have made it a priority." Again, he grinned. "Sounds to me as if Espartero wants to make a good impression on you."
"Him and every other man warming a European throne," she remarked in disgust. "And a few women."
"I know it's tough, Darling." He tenderly kissed her temple. "It's simply something we'll have to deal with. Probably several times."
After taking a few fortifying breaths, she said, "Very well. I'll set up an audience." She gave Jørgen a high-sign; he walked up to the desk from where he'd been standing in a respectful silence. "Captain, if you would be so kind as to send one of the guards after my secretary?"
"I'll do it myself. Pretty sure I know where he is."
"Ah. Well, then, please send one of them after my sister. We need to discuss this."
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Audience Chamber – Thursday 11 November 1841, 2:00pm
The two thrones in the Chamber came as a small surprise to the Spaniards, not the least because they were both made of ice. Elsa, in full ice-fabric regalia, sat on the larger of the two, while Princess Anna sat to her right.
As the visitors had the story, some months back a scenario a bit like this had played out, with unfortunate consequences. Five assassins had tried to shoot the Queen, and two of her Guard almost died. Apparently she was taking no chances with the Spanish delegation, even if one of them was an old friend of Carlos's. The dozen members of the Guard in the room were armed with carbines, and the visitors had all been searched. Thoroughly. (And, though they didn't know it, Elsa had her armor-wards active, and had similarly warded her Guards and her sister.)
Tomás Banderas, the leader of the Spanish delegation, stood seven paces from Elsa's throne to read off the official greeting from the General; the rest stood two paces behind him. As the flowery language went on for a couple of minutes, Sofia had time to make a discreet survey of the room and an examination of Elsa. Of course they had heard tales of Elsa's beauty, but Sofia hadn't been fully prepared for the actual reveal. In addition to the classic and delicate lines of the Queen's face, her large, luminous eyes, and her excruciatingly correct bearing, Elsa's coloring made her rather exotic to those more used to the Mediterranean standard. Sofia fought down a tiny flare of jealousy.
Eduardo was wondering, and wondering hard, where Carlos was. He knew of the betrothal (they all did) and had expected to see the man near Elsa; yet, there was no trace of him. Then it occurred to him that Carlos could be watching them from a secret spot. With this possibility in mind, he turned his attention, as surreptitiously as he could, to winkling out where his old acquaintance might be hiding. He wanted to alert his brother to this possibility, but a private conversation at this point would reflect poorly on their manners. And they couldn't have that.
It wouldn't have done him any good. Emilio, who stood immediately to Eduardo's left, could not take his eyes off Elsa. Seriously. A bomb could have gone off behind him, and he wouldn't even have flinched. He hoped, on the one hand, she wouldn't catch him staring; on the other, he wished she would spot him and be instantly and hopelessly smitten, forget all about Carlos, and …
Gerardo Garza, who was, as Carlos suspected, a cousin of the Duke of Frías, paid especially close attention to the Princess. There had been a great deal of speculation concerning her relationship with the Queen. Reliable reports described how Elsa had personally conducted a rescue operation when Anna had been kidnapped, using her magic to capture the thugs and free her sister. Details varied wildly. However, this was the same sister the Queen had reportedly frozen with her magic, and then thawed with her tears. Gerardo concluded she didn't look any the worse for wear. Still, some of the stories hinted their relationship might extend past what was entirely appropriate for sisters. He'd promised himself to unearth the truth of those rumors.
The last man in line, Diego de la Cruz, had been chosen to be a part of the group for his knowledge of trade. He would do what he could to examine Arendelle's trade status and see if he couldn't produce some good reasons to expand it to Spain. Tomás's reasoning was that Elsa would be less likely to dump a fathom of snow on a close trade partner.
Tomás finished his introduction and they all paid close attention to Elsa's next words.
She had been practicing her Spanish, but it still had some rusty spots. "So. You were to a trade a delegation, and you wanted to set up an Embassy Arendelle in official."
To his credit, Tomás didn't give any reaction to her slightly mangled syntax. "Your Majesty is correct."
"We wonder why."
Having spent some time going over the Queen's possible questions and responses beforehand, he had a ready answer. "Our Regent-Elect had heard rumors of your enlightened government. It was why he sent me to attend when the news arrived of the Princess's nuptials. He wanted to know the truth." A deferential bow later, he concluded, "I was able to report to him that the rumors, rather than being overblown, failed utterly to describe just how enlightened your reign has been. Never had I seen such a loyal and happy group of subjects. As such, he-"
"Citizens."
"… Ah … begging Your Majesty's grace?"
"Arendelle does not have subjects. My citizens people are."
He processed her words for a couple of beats, and then smiled. "Of course! Yet another example. As Your Majesty may know, the General's policies entail a departure from the absolute monarchy of the past."
"I had heard of that."
"Well and good! One of the purposes of our delegation is to examine the workings of Your Majesty's reign, and see what of it may be applied to Spain."
"… Indeed."
"Yes."
"I see." She directed a slight frown his way. "So then my powers do not play into your purposes at all, do they?"
"Your Majesty is wise. No, my Queen, they most assuredly do have a bearing on our goals."
"And what would that be?"
"Spain wishes an alliance with the kingdom slated to wield more power than any other state on Earth – than any other group of states, frankly."
Elsa stared at him for close to half a minute, not moving a muscle, not changing her countenance in the least. To Tomás it seemed as if she was having an internal conversation of some sort.
"Señor Banderas … Arendelle has a long history and placid of staying out of constantly wars plaguing Europa. We have no intentioning, none at all, of doing that change. If you are looking to an ally for aid you in battle-"
He shook his head firmly. "No, Your Majesty. Spain seeks trade and understanding, friendship and peace. Nothing more."
Again, she paused as if listening to something the rest of them couldn't hear. At length, she gave a short nod. "I see. Well, then. I understand some rooms you take at a hostel."
"Yes, Your Majesty. The Stooping Hawk."
"We will explore what you offer. We will give you to know three days to what is decide."
"Spain can ask no more, Your Majesty."
"Do you a guard to be required?"
"Ah … no, I do not believe so. I had understood Arendelle was a much safer place, now the, ah, future Prince had arrived."
"Oh. So then you know of your countryman?"
"Yes, Your Majesty. He is, after all, one of the General's hidalgos, and a good friend to some of us. We were overjoyed to hear he had finally found love."
Her lips twitched in a quickly-repressed smile. "Were you, then."
"Indeed. My companion, Eduardo Santos, has known Señor de la Maria for several years, and was shocked to learn how you, Your Majesty, had managed to breach the rocky shell around his heart."
Elsa raised a brow at his metaphor. "Rocky shell?"
"Ah … perhaps I misspoke. But Señor de la Maria was well-known for his disdain for affairs of the heart. That you won his came as a pleasant surprise to us all."
"I see." She went through her internal-listening habit again for a few breaths, finally nodding to herself with another suppressed grin. "Very well. We will consider your proposal. You may go."
The Guard had led them down two hallways, about halfway back to the entrance, when they came across Carlos, leaning against the wall in an adjoining corridor, arms crossed. He gave the group a wry smile. "Well, well. Look what the cat dragged in."
Eduardo's face lit up. "Carlos!" He trotted over and embraced his old friend. "Amigo, you are looking well! Arendelle agrees with you; you haven't aged a day!"
"Heh. It's the weather."
"And the company?" His grin stretched Eduardo's ears back. "We all saw her. You're a lucky bastard!"
"More than you could know."
Emilio asked, "So, you actually do love each other?"
Catching the wistful tone of his question, Carlos put a hand on the man's shoulder. "We do. So deeply, I don't think it can be explained in words." Turning then to Tomás, he shook the Delegation leader's hand. "Banderas. Good to see you again."
"And you, de la Maria. I'm hoping we'll have many evenings to catch up and share our adventures."
"Oh, it's possible. My dear Queen, once she works through her paranoia, is the most charming of hostesses."
"I'm given to understand she comes by her paranoia honestly."
"Truthfully. Having world-renowned assassins gunning for you does nothing for one's naïve trust in the goodness of men." He stepped over to Sofia. "Countess Ventura." He kissed her offered hand. "You're looking ravishing, as usual."
"Compliments? Aren't you afraid your bride-to-be will get jealous?"
"Under no circumstances."
She blinked a bit at the solid, unfaltering, absolute certainty in his declaration. "Well. Yours sounds like a love worthy of a ballad."
"Or several." Looking then at the last man, he offered, "Señor Garza? You would be related to the Duke of Frías?"
"I am. His cousin. His mother is my grandmother's sister."
"Ah. That explains it, then." Clasping his hands at the small of his back, he addressed Tomás and continued, "I heard you took rooms at the Stooping Hawk."
"Word flies around fast."
"It's not a large city."
Sofia muttered, "You can say that again."
"Fear not, the place does have its charms. To demonstrate, I would like for the six of you to join me for dinner."
"Oh? You know all the good places?"
"Have you forgotten my appetite? Of course I've scouted out the best restaurants. However, I would prefer it if you returned here. The palace cook knows how to treat cod with respect."
"Hopefully not dried," Sofia commented.
"Hah! No. I think you'll be pleased."
"Very well. What time?"
"Seven. That should give you all time to rest and freshen up. Knowing what I do of the voyage from Spain, I doubt you've all fully recovered yet."
Eduardo snorted. "Ocean travel is vastly over-rated. I'm tempted to walk back home."
"Then I won't keep you up late. But I do expect we have a lot to talk about."
"Perhaps such a dinner can become a regular occurrence?"
"Perhaps." Carlos's attitude then became brisk. "I fear I have many tasks vying for my attention. I will see you all in the courtyard at seven." He kissed Sofia's hand, shook Eduardo's, and left.
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The North Sea – Friday 12 November 1841, 7:30pm
The cabin door clicked quietly shut behind him as Attaché Louis Cardin entered Maria Christina's presence. His eyes traced quickly around the room, spotting the mostly-empty wine bottle and the wide-based cradle for the glass that went with it, currently in a well-manicured hand. There was, however, no sign of Fleurette, the ex-Queen's companion/ chaperone. Clearing his throat, he asked, "Is your handmaid otherwise occupied?"
"Took to her bed early." She drew a quiet sip from her glass. "Dyspeptic, it seems. The ocean does not agree with her."
Cardin did not miss the slight gleam in the deposed Queen's eye. "And perhaps a slight measure of food poisoning?"
"I'm quite sure I have no idea what you mean."
"Indeed." He took a seat and spread his coattails. "Convenient, though."
Maria Christina got down to business. "What have you learned from the sailors?"
"Confirmation of most of what we'd suspected. An absolute conviction that Queen Elsa froze her sister by accident, then brought her back to life with her tears. Eyewitness accounts of what they term 'The Battle of the Five Ships'."
"So she controls the sea as well." That gleam in her eye grew bright. "Oh, the conquests we shall make!"
"It isn't like you to count your chickens thusly."
"We have a sound plan." She drained her glass, set it in its cradle. "Elsa, as you've said many times, dotes on the Princess. Once we have her sister safely away, she will meet our terms. If things do not go to our liking – though I fail to see how that might occur – her wrath will fall on Austria. We win either way."
"Assuming we can get her away from the Queen."
"Have faith in my abilities, Cardin. Powerful she may be, but such a cloistered little rustic could never be a match for my skills of manipulation."
"Eh. Rustic quite describes Arendelle. From accounts I've heard, their 'city' houses fewer than four thousand souls."
"I've heard the same. They put on airs, calling that anything but a village." The ex-Queen poured the rest of the wine into her glass and took a long swallow. She stared off into the middle distance for a bit before asking, "Are we still on schedule to arrive on Monday?"
"As of my last conversation with the Captain."
"Good."
Neither felt inclined to continue the conversation. After half a minute Cardin rose and took his leave.
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End Note:
And there you have it. From here on out there should be a greatly-reduced level of confusion ... although I hope to maintain a fairly high level of anxiety in all concerned. ;-D
Reviews = Love!