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Countries.’
    â€˜It was inevitable, I’m afraid,’ Lady Rose said, ‘after the assassination.’
    Aubrey couldn’t help but agree. A few weeks after they’d fled Holmland, the Elektor’s nephew had been shot while touring the Goltans. Veltranian rebels had killed the well-meaning Duke Josef during a parade. Aubrey knew the loss would strike the Elektor hard. He held his nephew in high esteem, and it had been his idea for Duke Josef to visit the Goltans. It was the Elektor’s effort to reassure the Veltranians that Holmlanders weren’t all warmongers and barbarians, an effort than bravely ran counter to the more belligerent designs of the Holmland government.
    A doomed effort, it would seem.
    Immediately after the assassination, Holmland – urged on by its ally, the Central European Empire – had issued a series of demands to the Veltranian government. Some of the demands called for the quashing of anti-Holmland political parties and taking immediate action against the assassination suspects and co-conspirators. Holmland went further, insisting that the Veltran government control the press, which had been notoriously anti-Holmland. With the factions in Veltran, this was always going to be impossible, and Aubrey suspected that Holmland knew this.
    Ambassadors from Holmland and the Central European Empire withdrew when the Veltranian response to the ultimatum was deemed inadequate. War was declared soon after – and Muscovia rallied behind its Goltan ally, Veltran, which meant that instead of a small-scale spat, the incident was now a heavyweight contest.
    This was the headache the Continent had become. A web of treaties and alliances linked all countries, sometimes in multiple ways, and Aubrey knew that this is what his mother meant by inevitable. One country declaring war on another drew in more countries which dragged in the rest. It wasn’t so much a line of dominoes as a fishing net soaked in oil and set on fire, spreading flames in all directions at once.
    Once Holmland was at war with Muscovia, its ambitions were given free rein. While it engaged the enemy to the east, one faction of the military generals apparently thought opening a western front, advancing troops through the Low Countries, would be a fine idea. Why have one battlefront when you can try out your new toys on two?
    Albion had no choice. It had to go to war – and Dr Mordecai Tremaine was on his way to immortality.
    Aubrey spared a thought for Rodolfo, the Veltranian patriot he’d come to know in his guise as a brigand. The last Aubrey had heard, Rodolfo had been going home to try to stop his brother from being swept up in the machinations that were only too rife in the benighted country. Rodolfo had had rumours of assassination plots, rumours that sounded ominous in the light of Duke Josef’s death.
    George broke the speculation that had seized Aubrey. ‘Lady Rose,’ he said tentatively, ‘sorry to ask, but does Sir Darius say why he wanted me here? Wanted us here?’
    Aubrey was pleased. George had gone to the heart of the matter.
    Lady Rose looked uncomfortable. She turned her charm bracelet for a time, rotating it around her slender wrist and looking at neither George nor Aubrey. Finally, she came to a decision and lifted her head. ‘He did. I’m not sure if I agree with his motives, and I’m not sure that you will either.’
    Aubrey and George looked at each other. ‘I assumed he wanted support for you,’ Aubrey said, but his words dried up as soon as he said them.
    â€˜And why would he think I’d need support?’ she asked calmly. Aubrey thought it was the sort of calm that travellers from the colonies, survivors of tropical cyclones, reminisced about, saying, ‘Remember that lull just before the house was crushed by falling palm trees then swept away by the landslide and flood? That was the calm before the storm.’
    Aubrey