43. All the Queen's Horses and All the Queen's Men
Rune Grimsen, Magnus Vollan, Karl Holt, and Johan Johanssen VI paused before crossing the causeway that lead to Arendelle's castle, yielding to a short procession of messengers setting off on their assignments on horseback or driving horse-drawn wagons. They hurried to the gates as Ivarrssen held back more outgoing traffic so they could return.
Johanssen almost stopped short to take in the flurry of activity in the courtyard, as the various armed services, civil employees, and castle staff -all wearing translucent ice-fabric ponchos or coveralls- were snapping into action. Grooms were getting the horses limbered up, saddled, or hitched to carts. Maids and footmen were ferrying provisions from the castle's stores for those who would be sallying forth on longer distance dispatch teams. Mail couriers were loading wanted posters into the wagons' cargo areas and conferring about routes. The military men were issuing or receiving their orders. Everyone was commenting on the situation. The chief constable couldn't help overhearing snatches of conversation as he and the guards jogged to the castle's veranda.
"-the storm will make it easier to box him in-"
"-cancel the western reserve corps' deployment to the Harvest Festival and muster them for border and road patrol-"
"-probably still here in town-"
"-instruct the coast guard auxiliary at Riseyjar to be on the lookout for-"
"-or Hovden post office will know where the Sami-
"-they say he was inside the castle-"
"-the storm will make it difficult to track him down-"
"-the Blakstad garrison are to relay the warning to Omlid and Bygland as per the-"
"-catch that rat before the weekend-"
Many of the army men and navy men nodded in acknowledgement or touched their right index fingers to their right eyebrows as the chief constable and captain of the guard passed by. Even after more than a year on the job, Johanssen still had moments when he forgot that he was "a man in uniform," especially when he was in the company of other "men in uniform." Maybe it had something to do with the traditional garb worn by constabulary when on duty.
The army dressed in black; the navy had blue jackets and black trousers; the royal guards were clad in green livery; the constables, however, wore magenta. Some people called the color mauve, or fuchsia, or red-violet. The name didn't matter. In Johanssen's estimation, it was a shade that would be fine and dandy for a little girl's party dress or an ephemeral flower, but not for the uniform of a policeman who needed to be taken seriously not just by honest, law-abiding citizens on calm, ordinary days but also by scared, confused citizens in times of crisis, as well as ruffians and other shifty sorts who often needed "supervision" to behave in a civilized manner.
Not that Johanssen ever had much trouble being taken seriously, given his build, but he wouldn't mind not feeling like he was preparing to run off and join the circus when he donned his work clothes in the morning. Plus, not every constable had his physique; although many of the new recruits had formerly worked at the docks, or as ice harvesters or lumberjacks, and were brawny types, there were just as many less strapping specimens, and they had even recently hired some women. While everyone had to meet minimum requirements of strength, speed, and proficiency in grappling and the use of various weapons, and he had the utmost respect for and confidence in the people in his organization, the psychological affect of a good uniform -both on the person wearing it and on the people the officer encountered- would be a helpful boost.
Apparently, this particular hue had been used to set Arendelle's constables apart for centuries, and was the product of an expensive dye, hence it was reserved for very prestigious social ranks, and allegedly indicated the high status afforded to the kingdom's law enforcement. Maybe in days of yore, a criminal would have been intimidated by the color, but the modern malefactor was undaunted. And he and the other constables had been mistaken for acrobats or jugglers by tourists on a few occasions. It was embarrassing for all concerned.
Johanssen might have attributed the constables' gross dereliction of duty during the Eternal Winter to low morale induced by looking like jesters on a daily basis ... except the other armed services in their more sober, soldierly uniforms had let the country down just as badly, if not worse. The fact that there were rotten eggs who tried to take advantage of an emergency was far less disturbing and surprising than the knowledge that so many of the men who had sworn to serve and protect Arendelle and uphold the laws completely botched their jobs when it mattered the most. In other countries with other rulers, heads would have literally rolled after the calamity cleared, but Queen Elsa was a rather temperate sovereign, at least figuratively speaking, and she chose to express her displeasure with a mass firing, rather than firing squads.
But that didn't mean Her Majesty had been too soft. There had been a lot of people wailing like babies when the Queen was finished judging them. The worst offenders were banished, with an enchantment placed upon them to prevent their surreptitious return; the former Minister of the Treasury, Absalom Herlofson, had even an additional enchantment placed upon him to regulate his behavior in his exile. Most of the other men-at-arms and officials were demoted back to the lowest grades or summarily dismissed from their positions and blacklisted from any governmental job or contract; many of the blacklisted were soon obliquely obliged to leave Arendelle because the private sector wouldn't hire them or give them any business, either.
That had all seemed like plain and simple justice to Johanssen and most of his plain and simple fellow Arendellians - except, perhaps, the realization that enchantments were no longer merely a fairy tale plot element. But after the Queen was done dishing out the punishments, she turned to bestowing rewards, and he had been flabbergasted when Her Majesty, in gratitude for his services to the country and the crown, offered him the post of chief constable.
He was initially inclined to decline it, since Johanssen didn't think he was educated enough or capable of memorizing, let alone properly understanding, large amounts of dense legalese. But Queen Elsa had gently and expertly steered him through a series of questions that left him less convinced about his unsuitability and promised him he could resign at any time and she would find some other way to reward him. And Miss Nilsson, his partner in crime prevention and the newly appointed Minister of the Treasury, egged him on. And his wife, Helena, pointed out that the position's pay and benefits package would put them well ahead of schedule to be financially secure enough to start a family. It was very unsporting of the women to gang up on him like that, so Johanssen found himself capitulating and agreeing to give it the old longshoreman try.
To his surprise, policing Arendelle was more or less as easy as the Queen had made it sound. Quite frankly, it was so more or less easy that Johanssen was perplexed how any person of good will, and with a modicum of loyalty to country and compatriots, and possessing a shred of courage and an iota of intelligence could have failed at the job, even during an unexpected event like the Eternal Winter. It told him and the other new constables all they needed to know about their predecessors, magenta uniforms or otherwise. Most of the dense legalese applied only to foreigners and served as escape clauses to protect Arendelle and/or its citizens from the visitors' own stupidity, negligence, or recklessness. The vast majority of Arendelle's laws were based on common sense and common courtesy, and the concept of "the spirit of the law" prevailed throughout the nation's jurisprudence, so there was no need to try to close every possible loophole with a plug of opaque verbiage, or to wonder if a seemingly innocuous action was, in fact, against the law due to some archaic edict that had never been properly taken off the books.
Needless to say, he had settled in nicely. Everyone respected him, because he himself was respectful and fair to everyone, and took a hands-on approach to his duty to both the civilians and his fellow constables. A few months after he had taken the reins, Johanssen had decided it was time to speak up for his fellow constables, and suggested a new color scheme for the police uniforms.
The Queen had been sympathetic, and was quite willing to work with them. The big problem was finding a color that distinguished the constables from ordinary citizens and the other Arendellian armed services, as well as from other prominent countries' militaries. He agreed that it was important to be able to quickly tell who was who by sight from a distance, especially once he understood the tactical capacity of Her Majesty's magic. No one wanted a "friendly fire" mishap, either magical or mundane, and the best way to prevent one was for Arendelle's defensive forces, including the constables, to not wear a color that was, for example, too close to the crimson of Weselton. Or the scarlet of Myrcia, or the yellow of Spain, or the light grey of the Southern Isles' army, or the white of the Southern Isles' navy, or the indigo of Wessex, or the dark grey of Austria, or the orange of Sokovia, or the dark green of Prussia, and so on.
It turned out that the whole dratted palette except the magenta of the constables' current uniforms was already in use by some other country's military, or was commonly worn by the citizens of Arendelle, or was even more unacceptable for police work, so they were stuck with magenta until some other country revamped its uniforms or the rainbow grew a new color. To her credit, Queen Elsa was trying to find a brown that stood out enough from the varieties often used for the work clothes favored by farmers, stockmen, miners, and woodsmen. She hoped they would have something next year.
Until then, Johanssen reminded himself of what Helena had told him when he had first griped about it: If the color of his uniform was the biggest problem in his life, then he had it pretty good. He could always count on her to put things in perspective, and he gave thanks every day that he was married to her. Their first child was due in February, and he knew she was going to be a great mother. He did indeed "have it pretty good."
As did just about everyone else in Arendelle right now, and he was determined to do his part to keep it that way. This criminal interloper had picked the wrong country to interlope in, especially now that the Queen openly used her powers and had filled the ranks with people who were keen and well-trained. Michael Luch was so overmatched that Johanssen might have felt a tiny bit sorry for him if his offenses were not so heinous. But since they were so heinous, he deserved to be "made an example of," so that others of his ilk got the message to stay well away from Arendelle. He felt a surge of patriotism to see all the Queen's men and women working together and a tingle of pride to be a part of the team. Of course, there would probably be a little competition amongst the various branches and certain individuals for the honor of bringing the murderer to justice, but that attitude was far preferable to having everyone cowering under beds or trying to abscond with the pension funds while all attention was on the emergency.
They reached the veranda outside the gift shop guardroom. The guards and the chief constable slipped off their wet ponchos. "I'll take care of those, sirs," Pettersen said. "Her Majesty is waiting for you inside." They all straightened their uniform jackets, smoothed their hair, and wiped their boots. They all knew Her Majesty wouldn't care how they looked, but she still had that effect on people.
To Johanssen's and the subordinate guards' amusement, Grimsen knocked with the old "shave and a haircut" cadence on the door before opening it. The Queen was talking with Admiral Sverdrup, Field Marshal Naess, and Master Kai, while a bevy of castle staff, civil servants, and guards either waited to pass on messages, or hurried in to deliver more news. There was a short pile of wanted posters on the table, and four more stacks, each one taller than Johanssen, standing in the far corner of the room. A very nervous clerk was in the process of showing two sheets of paper to the Queen, who nodded briefly to the new arrivals before addressing the clerk. The returning guards disarmed.
"Thank you. Excellent work, Miss Fevold. Please have your office contact the Coronan embassy with this information," Elsa directed. "Perhaps they can track down some of their stolen goods in Antwerp."
"Yes, Your Majesty," the nervous clerk replied nervously, and hastily left the room.
Johanssen regarded his employer, the most impossible person on the planet. He probably wouldn't have been so quick to trust the monarch if Miss -now Minister- Nilsson hadn't attested that Queen Elsa had had her powers from birth, and didn't have a tyrannical or malicious bone in her body, and had apparently been doing her utmost since she was a little girl to keep her magic in check. Even though they had been trudging through deep snow and shivering in frigid air when Minister Nilsson recounted what she knew about Her Majesty's childhood, Johanssen believed the elder Arendellian when she averred the sudden winter in July was unintentional and would be resolved happily. Something about the story moved him. The young Queen obviously had the power to be a despotic conqueror, to make the entire world bend a knee, but instead she had been quietly working to improve the lives of her subjects while keeping her distance from everybody. That was enough evidence of the Queen's goodness for Johanssen. And her magic had turned out to be incredibly useful, so neither he nor the other Arendellians who ratified her return to the throne after the Eternal Winter had any regrets about their choice. He had no doubt that she would be very active in the operation to catch the throat-slitting outlaw.
"Welcome back, gentlemen," Elsa greeted. "I know this is your usual lunch break, but we can't put this meeting off. Daniel, please have hot meals brought to these men." A footman nodded and left to do as bidden. Elsa turned to the guards and constable to fill them in. "We just established that Luch has been in Arendelle since Friday evening, which means he's had time to scout the area and maybe commit a few burglaries already."
"Well, we can't be totally sure of that, Your Majesty," Field Marshal Vidkunn Naess chimed in. "Just because there was a ship's passenger who can't be found in the roster of travel permits, it doesn't mean it's Luch and not some other criminal. We could easily have multiple thieves converging on Arendelle right now."
"I don't doubt that, Marshal. But the ship sailed from Antwerp, which is within range of someone fleeing from France on foot or horseback, and the Diamond Quarter there would be the perfect place for him to sell gemstones from the Coronan tiara. We already know he fenced a few jewels from it in Weaseltown -I mean, Weselton- so it fits his pattern. And the name, 'Michael Munster,' is obviously a very weak pseudonym. It's him," Elsa maintained. "He's had a three-day head start, so it's a safe bet that he's found good hiding places. We can presume he has seen that we're on the hunt, and has taken evasive action."
"With all of Arendelle on the alert, he's between a rock and a hard place," Admiral Sverdrup asserted. "He'll have to come out eventually. Even if he's had the foresight to cache some food, it will only last him so long before he has to try to filch something to eat or try to leave the country with everybody looking for him."
"Perhaps a few mousetraps are called for. Some boats and food kiosks would be very tempting bait," Elsa put forward. "As would cold, hard cash in select locations, such as right here. I assume he was in this guardroom and saw this morning's gift shop revenue." She glanced at Grimsen for confirmation.
"Unfortunately, yes, Your Majesty," Grimsen admitted. "He went through the whole tour ... and he knows who this morning's big spenders were, some of whom implied that they have access to more money."
"He would be thwarted, even if we didn't know he was here. We started heavily patrolling around the inns, boarding houses, and taverns last Thursday. Day and night, plain-clothes and uniformed," Johanssen assured him. "The hospitality workers have been taught how to secure their buildings and screen for troublemakers. And Her Majesty has made strongboxes for the guests to store their valuables in. The bank's street is always under watch. We're already keeping an eye on every place where there is likely to be a significant amount of money or other items that would attract a thief."
"A significant amount of money..." Vollan suddenly repeated. "He knows Miss Rask received a lot of tips from the tour group this morning-"
"I met Miss Rask on her way home, shortly before I bumped into you. She had just exited the bank, and no one was following her," Johanssen stated.
"Still, he has probably guessed that the Rasks are one of our wealthier families since Princess Anna told everyone that they make the convertible wagon/sleds," Grimsen mentioned.
"We'll notify them that they could be at risk and put them on the watch list, then, just in case," Johanssen pledged.
"Did any other information that Luch could use to target someone or something slip out during the tour?" Elsa asked.
Grimsen, Vollan, and Holt all silently reviewed the events of the morning. "Princess Anna showed the tour group that the furniture in the gallery can be used as trampolines," Grimsen disclosed, "so possibly he could use that to reach one of the smaller upper paintings, if he could get back inside the castle. Anything else you can think of, gents?"
"He knows there's a supply of boreal saffron in the kitchen," Holt added.
"And that the Royal Chapel is always open," Vollan offered.
"Anything that could impact people or property outside the castle fortifications?" Elsa posed.
"No, Your Majesty. In fact, he knows that there aren't any other nobles, and that the rest of the royal holdings are well-guarded or don't have anything that can be stolen. All in all, what he learned from the tour should have made him feel very discouraged," Grimsen reckoned.
"He did sound disappointed when he saw the armory; he even said that we know how to watch over our treasures better than Corona does. It was so blatant! Why didn't I press the issue?" Holt groaned.
"Because the Queen would be more upset if you overreact to every little comment or mannerism that could be interpreted as suspicious and end up hassling someone whose only crime is being socially awkward than if we have a situation like this," Elsa answered dryly.
"He wasn't socially awkward, ma'am. He was entirely too cheeky, almost from the very start, when he said that you flaunt it," Grimsen related.
"Flaunt what?" Elsa queried, genuinely puzzled. The captain of the guard closed his eyes and sighed. Everyone else in the room subtly shook his or her head and stifled a smile.
"It's not worth discussing, Your Majesty," Grimsen dodged. When he returned to active duty at the castle and saw her ice-dresses, he had tried to tactfully explain to the Queen that her attire was a little provocative, but it was as hopeless as trying to explain to a three-year-old playing naked in a puddle after a summer rainfall that it would be inappropriate for adults to do the same. The young woman still didn't comprehend "sex appeal," let alone that she possessed an inordinate quantity of it, and he doubted she ever would. In his heart of hearts, he loved her all the more for that innocence, even if it caused some uptight encounters when people misconstrued her outfits. "I just had a feeling he was a pickpocket ... who seemed familiar somehow. I guess the lack of the moustache threw me off, or I saw the poster so often that I stopped registering it."
"Captain, we have about fifty-five international wanted posters, some of which are older than I am, hanging in the west guardroom and the constabulary headquarters. Everyone has stopped registering them by now. There is no blame to place here. I mean it. No wallowing in self-reproach, gentlemen," Elsa demanded, wagging a finger at Holt, Vollan, and Grimsen. "That's an order. If anyone criticizes you for this, just come tell me, and I will set the record straight. Understood?" The guards nodded meekly. "Good. Although henceforth, all foreigners are required to show their travel permits before they take any official or freelance tour. It won't stop everyone who's up to no good, but it will make it more difficult for people like Luch. Master Kai, when we're done here please inform Minister Haugen of the new policy, and have him draft a public announcement."
"Yes, Your Majesty," Kai followed.
"Chief Johanssen, please have your department see to it that the citizens understand the importance of this rule and comply with it if they do guide work on the side," Elsa requested.
"Will do, ma'am," Johanssen bobbed his head.
"A way to ensure that every visitor arriving by sea goes straight from the dock to the tourism office would be helpful," the Admiral proposed.
"A way to ensure that every visitor arriving by sea -or land, for that matter- really is who he or she claims to be would be even more helpful," Elsa said curtly. "But the means to do that currently don't exist." She clutched her braid, stroking one of the strands with her thumb, and started to pace. Everyone stood aside to give her room. "We knew something like this would happen eventually. We knew that tourism would have its drawbacks as well as its benefits. That there would be some thieves and spies among the honest customers." She stopped in front of the side strongroom's open doorway and gazed at the overflowing cash box still sitting on the safe where Grimsen had left it. "The rewards are worth the risks. We had a very busy season, but this has been our only significant incident. And the chances are good that it will be our last significant incident for quite a while, once the world sees what we're capable of ... and realizes that we are only going to improve our contingency plans and develop new strategies to guarantee that crime does not pay here in Arendelle." Elsa resumed pacing, strode over to the table, and picked up a wanted poster. "Now, the first trick up our sleeve is updating Luch's appearance, so that no one needs to extrapolate from a picture that's over a year old."
With a slight wiping motion with her right hand, Elsa erased the moustache from the image, leaving behind a patch of white ice-paper. She then made a quick sliding motion with her right hand, and the flesh tone of the pictured face's cheeks filled in the blank space. She scanned the room for the person whose facial proportions were the closest match to Luch's. It happened to be Naess.
"Please try to copy his scowl and hold that expression for just a few seconds, Marshal," Elsa petitioned with a grin. The commander of Arendelle's land defenses obeyed as well as he could while Elsa tapped in the air above the poster as though she were dabbing paint on a portrait. The flesh tone above the upper lip quickly acquired nuanced shades to evince the three-dimensional curve of the maxilla and the frown-lines in the image's skin that framed the mouth. She held the poster up to Grimsen, Vollan, and Holt for their assessment.
"He has one of those indentations that runs down from his nose to the middle of his upper lip," Vollan said, pointing to the spot he meant on the image. Elsa added one to the pictured face.
"A little more wide and a little less deep," Holt said. Elsa revised the philtrum accordingly.
"And he has bangs now, about this long," Grimsen contributed, tracing a line across the image's forehead. Elsa made a pulling motion, and the bangs dropped down where Grimsen had indicated.
"A little more thin and a little more curly," Holt recommended. Elsa gyrated her hands above the image, and the bangs morphed as Holt had said.
"That's his wretched mug, all right," Grimsen pronounced. Holt and Vollan nodded in agreement.
Elsa grabbed another poster, and with pinching, sliding, and waving hand gestures, altered it so that Luch's clean-shaven face took up the central portion of the sheet, while a scaled-down version of Princess Rapunzel's original artwork graced the upper right corner. The Snow Queen flicked her wrists toward the stacks on the table and in the corner, creating brief bursts of blue-white light and spiraling ice crystals around the piles. A ripple coursed through the thousands of pages from bottom to top, as though someone were rapidly leafing through a book. She then reached her right hand out toward the door and closed her eyes in concentration. The onlookers knew that she had just similarly modified all the posters which had already left the room, and exchanged glances of astonishment. Her magical ability to simply think something into being reality was still nothing short of amazing.
"Could you perhaps turn these posters into surveillance devices, Your Majesty?" Naess wondered. "We would catch him in no time."
Elsa's eyes went wide before narrowing to coolly survey the Field Marshal. The set of her jaw and carriage of her head betrayed her disapproval. Naess stiffened to attention and prepared for a lecture.
"Marshal, even if I could, and even if monitoring every poster's field of view in real time were logistically possible, I won't do that. It's wrong," Elsa said adamantly. "These posters are being brought into homes and businesses, and are hanging at many intersections and public gathering places. You all know my stance on civil rights. This episode doesn't change it. The criminal element will not steal the people's liberties. Not while I'm the Queen. I will not spy on people in their private spheres, not for something like this. We are up against one solitary man who has lost the advantage of taking us by surprise. I am completely confident that we can either apprehend Luch or chase him empty-handed out of the country without infringing on the freedoms that Arendelle's people enjoy."
Naess arched a brow and cocked his head thoughtfully. The others in the room exchanged meaningful glances. "Your Majesty speaks very true and wise," the Field Marshal granted. "Our way of life is what we really defend." He had spent most of his career serving on Arendelle's western border, and had not been "in the know" about the ice magic. He was still figuring out all the facets of the Queen's personality and extraordinary powers. He knew she was capable of moving mountains -or at least very large hills- literally and figuratively, but she clearly had self-imposed limits.
"Indeed, ma'am. We can capture him the old-fashioned way," Admiral Sverdrup promised, looking decidedly proud of the sovereign.
Before Elsa could say anything else, a procession of castle staff arrived with food for Grimsen, Vollan, Holt, and Johanssen. The Snow Queen casually waved her hand, and the stack of posters on the table levitated and floated over to the stacks in the corner. The maids and footmen whisked the covers off the trays, poured the tea, and set out the utensils and napkins. The guards and the constable sat down and took appreciative looks at the kitchen's handiwork and portion sizes. The sautéed chard, slices of roasted chicken, and lemon-butter noodles smelled delectable, and the wedges of almond cake were dense and moist.
"But I was hoping for a piece of the chocolate roulade," Vollan joked.
"So Balász did show up for work today," Elsa deduced drolly as they tucked in.
"Yes, ma'am. He sends his apologies," Daniel reported.
"I'm sure, but he can tell me himself in person later," Elsa said, and inspected the fingernails on her left hand. Kai winced. "Sorry to inflict a working lunch on you, gentlemen, but we need to make sure that we're coordinated, and that each division has enough resources to do its job. If we haven't caught Luch before Friday, we can no longer pull as many constables and military personnel from other areas of Arendelle as we had planned to help out with security at the Harvest Festival here. We'll need them to protect their own communities, escort people from out of town traveling to and from the festival, and watch the roads, land borders, and coast. And I want all security personnel to have at least one partner when they're working in secluded areas, since sticking together is the best defense against a sneak attack by Luch. Will the security for the Harvest Festival be stretched too thin without reinforcements? Do we need to cancel or postpone anything? Please don't downplay difficulties because you don't want the people to be disappointed, or you're worried that your sector will look weak."
Johanssen decorously chewed a bite of chard and mulled over the questions. Being asked to analyze a problem or give his opinion on an important subject was the most nerve-wracking part of the job. When he knew that the Queen would take his counsel into consideration to make decisions that would affect other people's lives and livelihoods, he sometimes thought that he should have stuck with loading and unloading cargo. Lifting heavy crates and barrels was a much easier burden to bear than saying something that could lead to a shut-down of the Harvest Festival - or to getting someone injured or killed because he misjudged his department's capacity.
The chief constable surreptitiously glanced at the other commanders of Arendelle's armed services and saw that they were also somber. Elsa waited patiently as the men cogitated. As well prepared as they were for the influx of people and the usual challenges that brought, they now knew they definitely had a predator somewhere in their midst, which complicated matters. Johanssen calculated how many posts and patrol routes would be affected by pairing up his staff in accordance with the Queen's dictum and contemplated the consequences.
"Since the town's constables were already set up to intercept or foil thieves, we should be able to hold up our part of the bargain if we all work a little overtime," Johanssen finally said. "My only concern is the courtyard party on Saturday evening. Some of the royal guards were assigned to help us with crowd control, and we'll need even more of them now. Can you still spare them, Captain, or will you need them to work inside the castle at the ball?"
"The ball should be the easiest event to keep in order, especially if Her Majesty seals off most of the castle with ice to keep people from wandering. However, even though the guards can help out, we'll need to come up with an efficient way to inspect the courtyard party attendees," Grimsen advised, "otherwise we'll have a massive logjam at the causeway, which is even more of a problem since the festivities usually spill over into the waterfront plaza anyhow, and a good number of the party-goers leave the courtyard and return at least once during the course of the night."
"Wouldn't Luch try to break into an empty house or sneak out of town while everyone is at the party instead of trying to pick someone's pocket in an enclosed area with everyone on the lookout for him?" Elsa reasoned.
"If he were rational, yes. But if he were rational, he wouldn't be here in the first place - or at least he would have been much more reserved during the tour. This type of fellow usually has poor judgment, doesn't learn from his mistakes, and can quickly swing between desperation and overconfidence. We can't rely on him to act rationally," Grimsen stressed. "He could see the courtyard party as his chance to get back inside the castle."
"Even if every entrance to the castle wasn't guarded at the door and under surveillance from the outer wall, what could Luch possibly steal that wouldn't be instantly noticed by security or the crowd when he tries to exit, especially if Her Majesty seals off most of the castle with ice?" Elsa inquired a tad dismissively.
"The pantry's stock of boreal saffron. I know, I know: We can move it or put it in a strongbox," Grimsen quickly allowed.
"Or place a guard in the kitchen, so that when he slithers in, he gets a very big surprise," Holt advocated impishly.
"Oh, that'd be hilarious! I volunteer for that!" Vollan laughed.
The captain of the guard gave his underlings an irritated look, and they contritely curbed their enthusiasm and focused on their lunch. "We also should not discount the possibility that he's here to do more than just steal. We know he has had some dealings in Weselton, and we know he has no qualms about murdering. He could be branching out into assassinations," Grimsen said gravely. Everyone in the room except Elsa visibly tensed.
"Otto Conrad II is many things, but I don't think he's stupid enough to send a notorious criminal to try to kill me," Elsa assuaged.
"The Duke and his immediate family and retinue are not the only devious people in Weselton who have been sorely pinched by their economic downturn, Your Majesty," Grimsen reminded. "And you might not be the objective. We have quite the assembly of high-ranking foreigners. Any one of the diplomats, important merchants and trade organization agents, or internationally acclaimed bright minds could have a rival or detractor who wants them out of the picture."
"Becoming a hired killer doesn't fit Luch's profile. His known 'associates' allege that he works for only himself," Elsa countered. "And that he has no compunction about double-crossing a partner if he sees something to gain from it. Not exactly the traits one looks for in a hitman."
"Still, I would rather take precautions whenever there will be a concentration of potential targets, ma'am," Grimsen urged.
"So you're saying the ball should be canceled or rescheduled," Elsa inferred.
"No, ma'am. I'm saying we need to be careful," Grimsen reiterated, and finished his main meal. "We might have to restrict people's comings and goings during the courtyard party or move its location, but we shouldn't have to cancel anything, provided we all stay on our toes and are willing to make a few minor adjustments."
"You're convinced the people will be safe, not just at the festival but also going about their regular routines? I'm more worried about an abduction than an assassination, since Luch has been linked to at least two suspicious disappearances, one of which involved a young girl," Elsa narrated.
"Oooh, if I get a shot at this guy, I'm-" Holt said through clenched teeth.
"Absolutely not, Sergeant," Elsa interrupted and took up pacing once more, in an arc between the door to the hallway and the door to the porch. "Unless there is no other option, I want him taken alive and in good enough physical condition to lucidly answer questions. While the odds of him confessing what happened to the missing people are slim, that's still better than zero.
"Plus, we have no right to execute him. Luch is a foreigner, and therefore we also have to consider Arendelle's diplomatic obligations within the international community. The worst offenses he has thus far committed in our land are travel without a permit and probably breaking and entering. Those aren't capital crimes here. As much as some of you might want to avenge an abducted child or your fallen counterparts in France and Corona, you are first and foremost sworn to uphold to the laws of Arendelle. We are a civilized people, and so we do not execute anyone without a public trial and a chance to speak on his or her own behalf, no matter how obviously guilty he or she seems to be."
Holt lowered his eyes and squirmed uncomfortably; he had not been at the castle when the perfidious prince from the Southern Isles had sentenced the Queen to death without a hearing or even producing any evidence that Princess Anna had been killed by the Queen, but he liked to think that he would have spoken up for Arendelle's legal traditions instead of unquestioningly following orders - and yet here he was now threatening to take a man's life without bringing him before a tribunal. As appalling as Luch's crimes were, Holt could see how slippery the slope was.
"So we are going to leave Luch's punishment to whichever country we extradite him to," Elsa continued. "I realize that he may not surrender peacefully, but I expect you all to use non-lethal methods if it doesn't jeopardize your safety. Spread the word throughout the ranks that I shall be ... very displeased if there is any unnecessary roughness that renders Luch permanently unfit to be interrogated. Is that clear?"
There was a staggered refrain of "Yes, ma'ams" from the men in uniform as they acknowledged the Queen. Holt sighed and stared at his almond cake, feeling embarrassed by his hot-headedness.
"Kid, it's great that you're fired up to take this guy down," Grimsen consoled, "but remember that there is a long list of people who feel even more strongly about him than you do. It will be just as rewarding to hand that parasite over to Corona or France or Ireland, and give them the satisfaction of dispensing justice." Holt nodded.
"Provided, of course, that Luch doesn't cause any mayhem here," Elsa appended. "Which brings me back to the question: Will the people be safe going about their daily business?"
"Your Majesty, we will carefully explain the situation to the civilians. I believe the people will be very aware of their surroundings, and will follow your instructions to stay in groups, the larger the better. They'll be extra eyes on the lookout," Johanssen vouched.
"Besides, Luch wouldn't dare show his face in a crowd when it's plastered everywhere except the cliffsides," Sverdrup avowed.
Elsa abruptly stopped pacing, her expression akin to that of someone making an important discovery. "Hold that thought, Admiral," she said, and seized a revised wanted poster, and marched out the door to the porch, half-startling Pettersen.
The guardroom crowd shared bemused looks. Many of them were familiar enough with the Queen's mannerisms to know that she had just been inspired. They tailed their sovereign onto the veranda, much more out of curiosity than deference. They lined the covered walkway, waiting to see what the magical monarch would do; the hustle and bustle in the courtyard came to a halt as well. All eyes were on the Snow Queen as she took up a position that provided a view of the town's scenic cliffside backdrop. The cold drizzle had absolutely no effect on her, apart from beading on her dense hair. It seemed to Johanssen that the young woman was giving off a very faint light, although that could have been simply an illusion caused by the reflecting ice-sequins on her dress and the paleness of her skin and platinum-blonde tresses contrasting against the dim, dreary sky.
But then there was an unambiguous flash on the cliffside, and an enormous full-color version of Princess Rapunzel's original poster art sprang into existence on the walls of rock. No one facing that direction could have ignored it. The Queen stared sternly and resolutely at it, as though confronting a giant from the old myths that had come to terrorize and devastate Arendelle. She extended her right arm with her palm out in a gesture that would usually signal a demand to stop, and the face morphed to its updated, clean-shaven form.
"Is that big enough?" Elsa asked the onlookers.
"With all due respect, Your Majesty, it's ... overkill," the Admiral appraised. "The regular posters are sufficient."
"And it's an eyesore, ma'am. It absolutely ruins Arendelle," Grimsen protested. "Besides, Luch is probably egotistical enough to feel honored by it."
Elsa smiled slyly. "If Luch happens to be watching, I sincerely doubt he'll feel flattered by the time I've finished sending my message," she chuckled. She locked eyes once again with the giant head and a light, full beard grew on the upper lip, chin, and cheeks. "We not only know what to look for now, but we also know what to look for after a week or so. He very likely won't have the means to shave while he's hiding."
"Correct, ma'am," Johanssen corroborated.
"He very likely won't have access to a lavatory, either," Elsa posited. "So the search parties need to be alert for foul odors coming from places that shouldn't have any and ... uncouth messes in our clean streets."
"Good thinking, Your Majesty," Naess nodded, impressed.
"I like to consider myself a hiding expert, Marshal - a two hundred meter tall ice palace notwithstanding," Elsa said enigmatically.
Grimsen and Sverdrup exchanged sidelong glances; both men had participated in some of the more unconventional subjects of the Queen's education, such as how to avoid detection for the long-term in the event that a worst case scenario came to pass. Apparently, she was putting her childhood lessons on evading capture to use on the opposite side of the hunt.
"It would be very helpful if the bearded version was on the posters we're sending to Norway, Sweden, and Thelir, ma'am," the Admiral hinted.
"Already done, sir," Elsa responded.
"Then we have everything covered," Naess proclaimed.
"Not quite. There are ways to hide in plain sight," Elsa said. The beard disappeared from the visage on the cliffside, and a hat with a wide, drooping brim that shrouded the giant's eyes graced the image. "Be on the lookout for anyone who is wearing anything that wholly or partially covers his -or her- face. Hats, scarves, bandanas, masks, big glasses with dark lenses, veils, bonnets."
The hat faded away, and the hair on the image became longer, now falling to shoulder length, and a close-fitting bonnet like ones often worn by the women of Arendelle appeared on the giant's head. "That isn't much of a disguise," Elsa critiqued, and added lace and floral motifs to accent the bonnet. "Nope, he still isn't passing for a woman. Maybe some make-up..."
Many of the onlookers giggled and guffawed as Elsa added lipstick and eye shadow to Luch's looming face. Elsa playfully shook her head in feigned dissatisfaction at the results.
"Perhaps some rouge and mascara and a little powder on the chin to soften it?" Holt deadpanned. Elsa liberally applied the cosmetics, but, if anything, the end product looked even worse.
"Still a 'nope,' ma'am," Vollan assessed. "And he sticks out like a sore thumb. You can't help but gawk at him."
"I can only work with what I'm given," Elsa sighed with faux frustration.
"It's safe to say that no one will mistake Mr. Luch for a woman, no matter how hard he tries," Grimsen chortled.
"But he could easily impersonate a clown," Elsa quipped, and made a smearing motion with her hands. The bonnet winked away, and the face was covered in gaudy pink make-up. The hair shortened, and turned an unnatural shade of orange. The Queen looked for all the world as though she were finger-painting as she overlaid a bewildered, despondent expression on top of Luch's glowering mien. "A sad clown, though, because he evidently did not do his research before embarking. Not only are we out to catch him, but the Coronan, French, and Spanish embassies will be eager to pounce on him, too." She added a noose around the clown's collar with a nonchalant doodle in the air.
Johanssen, Grimsen, Sverdrup, and Naess looked at each other. They hadn't taken international contestants in the race to capture the outlaw into consideration, and quite frankly, they were not pleased by the possibility.
"Your Majesty, we don't-" Sverdrup began.
"We are not saying 'no' to help, Admiral," Elsa cut him off. "The embassies' security staff may look for him, either on their own initiative or in collaboration with us, as long as they don't interfere with our search or somehow violate our laws or the terms and scope of their diplomatic privileges in the process. Likewise, you must remember that the embassies here are essentially miniature autonomous states, and that you have no authority on their grounds without following the proper protocols. If they happen to nab Luch on their own property, he is their lawful prisoner. If they happen to nab Luch on Arendellian soil..." She paused and pondered the variables for a few moments. "Well, let's just say that trapping Mickey the Mouse is your headache, and figuring out who gets the distinction of taking him back home is mine." She knew it was going to take many hours of sifting through treaties and legal precedents to determine which country, if any, had the most senior claim to the fugitive.
"You drew the short straw there, Your Majesty," Naess noted with genuine sympathy. "There are going to be a few disgruntled delegations."
"Hopefully, everyone will understand that when Luch is no longer on the loose, we all win," Elsa philosophized. "Except, of course, Luch, who will wish he had been born a mouse."
A mischievous smile curled on her lips, and the clown version of Luch transformed into cartoonish hybrid of the wanted man and a mouse. Many of the onlookers tittered or belly-laughed. Elsa added a hunk of cheese tied in a noose's knot as one last bit of mockery.
"We will hold the courtyard party as planned," Elsa decided, gazing forbiddingly at the lampoon.
"Is Your Majesty sure that's prudent?" Grimsen politely questioned.
"At least you will have a built-in perimeter and checkpoint, and you can use the watchtowers and upper walkways to spot irregular activity," Elsa explained.
"At night it will be much more difficult to see faces or what someone's hands are doing, ma'am, even up close," contended Grimsen.
Elsa threw a punch in the air, as though landing a left hook on the mouse-human fusion's jaw, and the image disappeared and was immediately replaced by an equally gigantic snowflake emblem that shone as brightly as the sun, albeit with a blue-white light. Many of the courtyard crowd shaded their eyes.
"Gentlemen, even if he steals the sun itself from the sky, we will have all the light we need to find him," Elsa boasted. "There will not be a dark corner for him to hide in on Saturday night." She waved her hand, and the signature snowflake dissipated in a shower of sparkles. "The people are prohibited from bringing bags to the party. You will be alert at all times for anyone with an obscured or painted face or any other type of costume that would affect recognition of the wearer. I also want you to be alert for any small child being led away from the party, or the rest of the festival for that matter, by anyone who roughly fits Luch's description and isn't known to you."
"We should include an unconscious child being carried by anyone who roughly fits Luch's description," Grimsen put in. "It's hard to tell 'napping' from 'knocked out' with just a quick look."
"There are going to be a lot of tired children at the end of each day of the festival," Vollan warned.
"We're only interested in a solitary adult leaving with a child, Lieutenant. He wouldn't be part of group or a couple," Grimsen elucidated. "That will narrow it down."
"And parents will be watching their children closely, which will make it harder for Luch to strike," Johanssen said.
"Boys like mine are still going to be a handful - and I can't be there to help my wife because I'll be working," Vollan underscored. "Quite a few of us will be in the same boat."
"The mama bears will band together," Grimsen guaranteed.
"So will the grandmama bears, like the olden days when the men went out a-viking," Sverdrup grinned. "If Agnete spots this piece of trash trying anything with a child, neither I nor the navy can be held accountable for the violation of due process and contravention of international treaties." Muffled laughter coursed through the crowd.
Elsa looked lost in thought for a moment. "I could bring in Marshmallow and the Snowgies to help tend to the children," she ventured.
"No!" all of the Arendellians within earshot shouted in unison.
Elsa flinched, and then pursed her lips. "It was just a suggestion," she pouted, sounding much more like a scolded, defensive teenager than an absolute monarch.
"We're sorry, Your Majesty. We shouldn't have raised our voices," Kai soothed. "But inviting the Snowgies to town during the Harvest Festival, with all the food and other merchandise that will be on hand, would be asking for trouble." The multitude of little snowmen had insatiable appetites for baked goods and tomfoolery, and could rapidly devour several times their own volume, or unravel a storeroom full of sweaters and blankets. While they did obey the Snow Queen, they had inherited their creator's propensity to take advantage of ambiguous language and circumstances that were not explicitly specified in the terms of a contract, which meant the lot of them needed to be closely monitored at all times, otherwise the royal handler had no doubt that they could gobble up every morsel for sale or on exhibit or destroy a year's worth of cottage industry if they were allowed to roam free.
"And as much as I'd like to have him on patrol, we've already ascertained that Marshmallow has difficulties navigating many of our streets, ma'am," Johanssen recapped. "All of the booths, tables, dance floors, and festival-goers will make it that much harder for him. Plus, he's so tall that looking at faces in close quarters will be impossible."
The Queen bobbled her head in acquiescence. Not for the first time she felt frustration at not putting more -or in most cases any- thought into making her various snow-beings, but she suddenly realized that there was one of them who could be of use. "Valid points," Elsa conceded. "However, Sleipnir can help keep watch on the courtyard, especially the stables. The horses might attract Luch's ambitions."
She set off on a brisk trot toward the paddock. Grimsen, Vollan, and Holt exchanged glances, and tagged along with her, with Kai, Sverdrup, Naess, Johanssen and some of the castle staff from the porch joining the procession, despite the drizzle.
"Your Majesty, I really don't think Luch is going to try his luck stealing one of the royal horses," Grimsen spoke up.
"If he's as impulsive and irrational as advertised, our horses will be very tempting. He can't escape by sea until the storm passes, and we have the best mounts in town," Elsa analyzed. "He could try to make a surprise dash through the gates."
"Yes, ma'am, but, uh, Luch and the rest of this morning's tour group already, uh, met Sleipnir," Grimsen told her hesitantly.
"Is there anything more I need to know about the encounter?" Elsa asked calmly, but Johanssen observed that the Queen iced over small patches of the pavers beneath her.
"No, ma'am; it went without incident," Grimsen allayed. "But Luch should be fully aware that Sleipnir can talk, has sharp ears, can let himself out of his stall ... and could kick someone's head off."
"Then I still need to have a chat with Sleipnir in the event that we need his assistance," Elsa said, the frost fading from her footfalls.
Ahead in the paddock, they could see the stable master making a final adjustment to a horse's bridle, and Elsa stopped at respectful distance to permit the horse and rider to clear the area. She knew what effect she had on her equine forces, and certainly did not want to trigger a panicked stampede. The head groom also knew that most beasts were spooked by the Queen's magical aura, and he escorted the horse and rider out of the paddock, steering the sensitive quadruped well away from his royal employer, gently stroking the animal's nose and whispering reassurances. He sent the steed off with an affectionate rub on the rump, and hurried back to see what the monarch wanted.
"What can I do for Your Majesty?" the stocky groom solicited, giving a shallow bow.
"I just need to talk briefly with Sleipnir and Sven, and then I'll stay out of the way, Henrik," Elsa affirmed.
"By all means, Your Majesty," Henrik nodded. "Take your time." He hastened to shut the top doors of the stalls that still contained ordinary horses. He vividly remembered the Queen's first -and only- riding lesson as a child, and did not ever want a repeat of the traumatic experience.
Sven watched all the activity with confused interest, looking from Henrik to Elsa and back again. The reindeer could never fathom why his flesh-and-blood stablemates were so bothered by the Snow Queen. She was very friendly and gentle and made wonderful snowflakes to snack on. He admitted that snowflakes were not quite as good as carrots, but that was no reason to snub someone.
As soon as Henrik closed the last door, Sleipnir swung his own open, perceiving that his creator was nearby. Sven smiled happily. Henrik and the rest of Elsa's entourage braced themselves for Sleipnir's contemptuous stare. But the snow-horse had eyes only for Elsa.
"What's wrong?" the magical horse murmured.
Elsa stepped forward and held up the wanted poster for Sven and Sleipnir to scrutinize. "We have an unwelcome tourist in Arendelle," Elsa updated them. "Captain Grimsen informs me that you have already seen him today."
Sven lowed in dismayed confirmation. Sleipnir curled his lips in a baleful sneer.
"Sven, please alert the regular horses that they are not to obey or trust him if he tries to make off with one of them, no matter how nice he seems or how many treats he has. And ask the cats to make a ruckus if they see him," Elsa instructed. "But you all need to be careful because he's dangerous, and he's likely armed with at least a blade." Sven bobbed his head vigorously.
Naess' jaw dropped in amazement that not only was the Queen talking to a reindeer as though to a human guard to enlist the creatures of the stables as part of the watch, but apparently the reindeer also understood and was going to pass the Queen's wishes on to the other animals. The Field Marshal glanced at his fellow officers' reactions, and saw that none of them were taken aback in the slightest.
"Sleipnir, we may need you on patrol. If you do happen to cross paths with him, break his tailbone, not his skull," Elsa ordered. "You can go for the pelvis, but avoid his vital organs."
The snow-horse tossed his head, flinging his forelock to the side. "It shall be done, Elsa," he whispered ominously.
Holt suppressed a whoop of excitement and the urge to pump his fist. Shooting the villain in the groin or buttocks would be a very gratifying alternative to dealing a mortal blow. And if he couldn't do it himself, the next best thing would be for Sleipnir to use those hooves of adamantine ice and muscles of magical snow to deliver such a righteous stomping that Luch never walked with ease or sat comfortably again, to say nothing of other biological functions.
Elsa created more wanted posters. "Henrik, please hang these in the stalls and storerooms, so the horses and cats can get a good look at him," she charged.
"Certainly, ma'am," Henrik said, absolutely unfazed that the monarch sincerely expected her four-legged staff to comprehend the situation and pitch in, if it came down to it.
The Snow Queen sprinkled a brief flurry of snowflakes for Sven to catch on his tongue. The reindeer heaved a sigh of contentment; the flesh-and-blood horses simply did not know what they were missing, especially on hot summer afternoons. "Be careful, Sven. This man can be very violent. If he has a weapon, don't take any risks. Let Sleipnir handle it," she bade. Sven grunted.
Elsa conjured three ice cubes and held them out in her palm for Sleipnir, who crunched them with relish. "I'll be back later. Be good for Henrik and the other grooms, okay?" Elsa appealed. "And be courteous to the other tourists if you interact with them."
Sleipnir shrugged his shoulders in resignation. "Yes, Elsa," the snow-horse muttered, and withdrew back into his stall.
"Henrik, you and the other grooms, especially Trygve, be careful, too," Elsa insisted. "If you happen to see him, sound the alarm and then fall back."
"Of course, Your Majesty - although some of us are quite handy with pitchforks, shovels, and lassos," Henrik professed.
Elsa smiled mildly. "No doubt. But don't be a hero if you don't absolutely have to be; it's very overrated," she said wryly.
"Agreed, ma'am. Safe and boring are much more to my liking," Henrik owned up with a grin. "We'll do our best to stay out of the action sequences."
"Good choice," Elsa commended, and gave a thumbs up to the stable master, then beat a quick retreat back to the nearest part of the portico with her entourage in tow.
"The odds are in our favor that we'll have Luch in chains before Friday," Naess augured as they reached cover. "And then we can bring in the reinforcements, and properly monitor the festival without straining - and maybe have a little parade as an accolade for the person or group that arrests that Irish vermin." The Marshal glanced at the Queen to see if his proposition met with her approval.
"If the person or group wants a parade, and if we haven't incurred any casualties or collateral damage that would make a celebration inappropriate, then we can have a little parade," Elsa consented. Naess nodded and smiled. "And now, gentlemen, we have to return to our regularly scheduled tasks. Remember that communication is vital. If your assessment of the situation changes or you notice a problem, even if it's not with your branch, speak up." She opened the door to the gift shop guardroom.
"Yes, ma'am," the Admiral answered for his fellow chiefs of the armed services.
"Good hunting, then, sirs. Oh - and make sure your people wear those nice bottom layers that I made for the security forces," the Snow Queen said over her shoulder as she entered the castle. "Things might get a little chilly once the storm passes."
Author's Notes - Hello, strangers! I hope everyone is doing well! This chapter has been sitting around since early last year, because I was a little worried that some of the ideas contained herein (face coverings being forbidden, staying in close groups being encouraged/mandated, the debate about canceling public festivities for safety's sake, members of law enforcement suggesting/threatening actions that violate civil rights or just plain failing at their job) might have been inappropriate for the year 2020. I hate it when reality interferes with a good piece of fiction. But I think it's time to get back on track. If something upsets someone, I apologize. The events of this chapter were planned out before 2020 went crazy, and it was/is not my intention here to rip a topic from recent headlines (and then invert it) or make light of what someone may have experienced during the various crises of the past year. I mean, I want to work your emotions, but not in that way.
So, back to the story. I take the color schemes of Arendelle's defensive forces from the first movie. The scenes of Agnarr and Iduna's funeral and Elsa's coronation ball clearly show many people in the background, presumably locals, wearing uniforms: some in all black, some in a blue jacket with black pants, and some in (what to me looks like) magenta. Full and boring disclosure: I have something of a color vision impairment, and so sometimes the colors that I see are not what other people see. Sometimes, the colors that I see will change depending on distance and light levels and surrounding colors. I have a feeling that the "magenta" that I see on the constables (and Elsa's coronation cape, for that matter) is really what other people would call "regular purple," but please just roll with it. It really doesn't matter what exact color it is, so long as it is not one usually associated with police or soldiers.
I think it's safe to give the Duke of Weselton a first name, and so Otto Conrad II he shall be. Also on the subject of first names, Vidkunn Naess is a hint. Imagine Elsa's stare-down of the Marshal after he asked if she could turn the posters into spying devices to be to the way she looked in the sequel when she told her grandfather that his perception of magic was just his fear. That was a very strong bit of animated "acting."
Next up (hopefully before 2022) is Elsa's lunch and dressing down of the conspirators.
