Armand’s First Letter. Amelia’s First Letter.
14 March 1023, Cumbrian Embassy, Toulouse
My dearest cousin Armand,
The Provençese Guilde du Thaumaturgie has surely been prominent in your thoughts since my last letter: the guild built a carriage for King Charles’ bride-to-be; the carriage crumbled to pieces with Princess Beatrice and I inside, dumping us into a frigid river and nearly leading to our deaths. It is clear to both of us why the carriage fell apart; but did they come to form it so badly? What has become of those responsible?
Perhaps you have even been judging me harshly and thinking all manner of hard thoughts for saying nothing of these matters.
I wish to acquit myself of the latter charge at least. When I last wrote I was freshly risen from my own sick bed, and much taken up with Princess Beatrice. King Charles waited for Beatrice’ full recovery before judging the matter, wisely in my opinion, by which time the guild masters had been quaking in their boots for several weeks.
Yesterday Grandmaster Gilbert Chevney and the senior masters of the Provençese Former’s Guild were summoned to a hearing before the King and his entire court. I was at the side of Princess Beatrice; also present were Lord Ellesmere, Maximilian, and certain other notables.
The prosecution was conducted by the Comte de Marigny, who led Chevney through the preliminaries. When did they decide start building carriages? Why did they choose to present the first to the Princess? And so forth. The answers were predictable, and I won’t belabor them.
The Princess’ coachman was brought in, hobbling on a crutch because he had broken his leg when the carriage came apart, and de Marigny questioned him as to the care and upkeep of the carriage, the frequency of use, and the events of the day in question. You will not be surprised to hear that despite being used daily, the body of the carriage had never shown any scuffs or any other signs of wear.
Next, de Marigny questioned me about the events of the day in question. There was a shocked gasp as I described watching the roof the carriage vanish into the white winter sky.
And then he politely asked Grandmaster Chevney how the grandmaster accounted for this. Chevney rose to the occasion with a speech in which he apologized most prettily to King and Princess, praised the thoroughness with which the guild had built the carriage, how they had used the finest materials, hardened every piece—of course—and then went on to ascribe responsibility to some enemy of the throne, some wicked man who had sabotaged the carriage, for what purpose he knew not.
How might they have sabotaged it?
Perhaps they had sawn through the supports.
But weren’t the supports hardened?
Silence.
De Marigny nodded soberly throughout, and when Chevney had quite finished hanging himself turned to me.
“Madame Archer, have you any questions for the Grandmaster?”
I rose and addressed the man. “Grandmaster Chevney, did you, perhaps six months ago, receive a grimoire from Grandmaster Netherington-Coates of the Cumbrian Former’s Guild?”
Chevney grew agitated at these words, and said he refused to be questioned by an “ignorant chit of a girl”, at which King Charles thumped his scepter on the arm of his throne and said, “We wish you to answer her questions.”
Chevney wilted, and de Marigny said, “Perhaps you are not aware, Grandmaster, but not only is Madame Archer a wizard of L’École du Sorciers, she is also the niece of Grandmaster Netherington-Coates and the cousin of Grandmaster Tuppenny of the Armorican Former’s Guild.”
I questioned him at length, and with interjections from de Marigny and thumps from the King elicited a number of facts. Yes, he had received such a grimoire; that he and the other masters had chosen to proceed on the best principles, as they had learned from their own masters; and when I inquired again about the grimoire he rose to his full height and declared that “Madame Archer is no former, and no member of the guild, and I wholly decline to discuss the secrets of the guild with outsiders!”
“Bien sur, Grandmaster, we quite understand. It seems we are at an impasse, n’est-ce pas?” said de Marigny, but he turned back to me; for I may tell you that Maximilian and I had spent many hours closeted with him in the preceding week.
“Not at all,” I said calmly, and bowing to the throne, said, “Your Majesty, I took the liberty of inviting my uncle, Grandmaster Netherington-Coates, to be present today. He is there, with Lord Ellesmere.”
Your step-father stepped forward as Chevney turned a most unbecoming shade of gray. Without disclosing any secrets of the guild, he explained how under pressure of war you had developed your sky-chairs and sky-sleds; how one of your early sky-sleds had fallen apart under one of your closet friends, and you had destroyed the remainder; that you had developed a new theory of forming to account for the sled’s destruction and learned how to prevent such events in the future; and how you had written it all up in proper fashion and shared it with the guild in Cumbria. Netherington-Coates had then had a copy made, as was proper, and sent it to the Provençese guild in accordance with guild law.
Had any of the carriages made in Cumbria failed in such fashion? Nary a one, he replied, Although, a packet designed by the shipwright’s guild without benefit of Grandmaster Tuppenny’s work had failed on launch some years previously. He and his masters had therefore followed Grandmaster Tuppenny’s guidance most carefully. What did he think about the failure of the Princess’ carriage? It was precisely what would happen if Grandmaster Tuppenny’s principles were ignored by naive and careless men.
Here de Marigny asked Chevney to respond; but Chevney was past speaking, and I noticed that a little space had formed about him. De Marigny turned next to one of the other guild masters, a younger man whose countenance had only grown more sardonic as the hearing proceeded.
“Master Kerinois, have you anything to say?”
“Yes, my lord,” he said, and then went on to say it. Yes, they had received the grimoire, which Chevney had glanced through and declared to be the absurdest of Cumbrian rubbish. Chevney had approached those masters who worked with the shipwrights to build the first carriage, and they had declined. Chevney and his cronies had then designed and formed the body of the carriage according to their own lights. Had he, Master Kerinois, read the grimoire? He had begun, he said, but not yet fully understood it, “for without revealing guild secrets, I may say that it is highly mathematical and quite unlike any other grimoire I have seen.” He then asked to meet with your step-father.
There were several more exchanges, and then King Charles thumped his scepter three times and proclaimed, “We will now deliver our judgement.” The king ended with this: “By the charter of the Guilde du Thaumaturgie, established by royal authority in bygone days, the guild has the right to choose their own leaders. We do not question this. But—” and here he cast a cold glance on Chevney, “—it is clear that the guild has been grossly negligent in this matter, and that the lives of Princess Beatrice, Madame Archer, and the coachman were spared only by Divine Providence. It is time and past time for the guild to clean house. We declare that the guild will be permitted to do no work for the Throne of Provençe until this has been accomplished to our satisfaction.” And here he cast a rather warmer glance on Master Kerinois.
There was a gasp, for there are many uncompleted hulls in the shipyards of Provençe, the Provençese navy having been all but destroyed during Le Maréchal’s War. This was followed by a long pause, until, prodded by one of the other guild masters, Chevney managed to croak, “As you wish, Your Majesty.” The King thumped again, de Marigny announced that the hearing was over, and that was that.
Kerinois was not elected Grandmaster; that position went to a senior master. But the guild’s as yet uncompleted carriages have been destroyed, and Kerinois has been put in charge of building their replacements. What’s more, Lord Ellesmere has announced that Cumbria will provide the carriages for the Royal Wedding as a gift of the Cumbrian Crown.
What’s more, I maintained my composure throughout.
Your satisfied cousin,
Amelia
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Photo by Wesley Tingey on Unsplash
Zymurgia House 