In Which Sir Bardolph Can’t Quite Believe It, But It Is True

Sir Bardolph Hingle to Ralph Muggley-Stern

Dear Frumps,

Well, I'll be damned if you haven't managed to scare up something useful for once. That ferret-faced outlander of whom you speak so eloquently is one of your country's enemies. Although we foiled him pretty handily in the recent dust-up with Marshweather, the process didn't endear us to him, and from what you say, Norhammer provides an altogether different puppet for his mastering. His name is not Dreke or Kleek or Weak but Bleake, Mortimer Bleake, and he was the author and architect of the entire Marshweather affair.

He must already have had contact with Norhammer and fled there directly; if my calculations are correct it seems that you saw him only a month after we received word of his disappearance. This fellow means business, old man, and you may see Duke Harker again sooner than you expected if Bleake is the one picking the targets.

You must write us everything you can remember about your encounter with him, and absolutely everything you may have noticed or been told about Norhammer's military readiness or potential as an opponent.

Of all the people in Bentlefay whom I would have considered likely to stumble into the course of history without looking, you would be the last. But don't worry! Once we've picked your brains clean of it, you can go back to a quiet life.

Sincerely,
Stinko

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Dear Stinko,

I had a feeling that weasel was up to no good -- see how perspicacious I am? Not that it was difficult to tell. I don't know when I've seen such a furtive little sneaker. If he is the instigator you make him out to be I'm afraid it's a pretty deadly combination. None of the people who matter in Norhammer need more than the slightest encouragement to believe that they are the darlings of fate, and that any target upon which they turn their eyes is ripe for their picking.

I've already told you their attitude toward war and conquest and I don't think I have anything to add. Their navy, which is the aspect that will concern you, is both peerless and ruthless. Seafaring is bound into the culture from the time it first emerged from the mists of history, and while the navy as such split generations ago from the old marauders, the apple has not fallen very far from the parent tree, and remains a formidable and not always strictly honorable foe. Complexity is the one thing they lack as a culture, and it sounds as though this Bleake rat will provide it for them.

As I say, he never addressed me directly, but he seemed to keep up a steady stream of whispering into the ear of King Stanislaus...whose manner had changed, now that I think about it. The king is not a very young man, well into his sixties and with grandchildren, but still very vital, and I would almost say restive -- the sort of monarch who measures himself against history, instead of circumstances. At most of our interactions throughout my visit he was genial in a sharp sort of way, with a penetrating look as though he is catching you at some mischief. The last time, with Bleake, he seemed disheveled and heavy, with a sluggish way of moving and a slower speech, and when he looked at me his eyes seemed to be focused through me, out the other wall of the room and on something very far distant. I thought perhaps he hadn't slept well and let the matter go, but given what you say I wonder if there was not some more sinister influence afoot.

Well, old man, I don't really want to retire to Norhammer, so you had better get Queen Christina on this information, so the decision might not be taken out of my hands. I'm not too old to take up a pitchfork or fire-iron in the glorious cause of national defense, but I would just as soon the matter be in more practical hands than mine.

Do give my regards to the royal family and your gracious lady, and tell them if they wish to question me further, I would happily travel to Bentlefay City and stay comfortably in the castle with my friends at their expense. Do you think I should start packing just in case?

Yours,
Frumps