CARDLANDS, 1776
Chapter One.
Assassinations
Turn over the page, but do not breathe on me. For in this
vacuum of stale air,
I can breathe. Starved of oxygen, I can breathe.
I am Jeffrey. I am a Two Club. The lowest card, in
the lowest minor
suit.
Survive. Tall with hope. Short with
incentive. Short on cards, no snap of rank.
Without esteem and rank, I can just survive the game. Low,
but not humble.
I am young, strong, ambitious and good and bad. How
bad? Only the Aces will be
the judge of that.
Perhaps, one day, I will trump them. Here is that hope again, the joker
with a bell on
his hat. My aspiration is to marry the achingly beautiful
Diamond princess.
Here is that “bad” in me. She is rich.
So now, in the spirit of my higher self, and in the reality of my
lowest rank, I will
quit this dream for the moment. Draw back the curtain and look down as
others on my life.
Last year, I reached twenty-one. My father, both a locksmith
and a farmer, gave me his prized possession, a master key.
“You may be the lowest of cards in Clubland, he said
solemnly. “But this key will give you access to the
highest doors. As for the rest, you will have to use the
skills that Father Ten and I taught you.’
My mother, bless her, gave me some embroidered gloves, and a pair of
tights.
The next day, the Black Prince (the Jack of Spades), for sport, and as
I learnt later for politics, breached the border and sacked our town of
Clubtown. He and his entourage of Spades, namely his ugly,
ruthless companion, Sir Beal (a Nine no less), and his special squad of
fifteen highly trained mercenaries, burnt to the ground three of our
Church of Clubland Christian churches, used all the vicars for sword
practice, cut down and decapitated a couple of Two Clubs, and killed my
father by tying his ankles to the opposite jibs of a well-head, so that
his legs were pulled apart. Prince Victor then
proceeded, with a rusty old two-edged battle sword, that he always
carried on his horse, to cut downwards until my father hung from the
ropes in two bloody halves like a pig on display in a
slaughterhouse. Then they all began to rape my
mother. This, finally, was enough for my brother, a shy,
timid man. When he tried to stop them, they cut off his penis
and tied him naked to our mother who by God`s grace had fainted.
At this time of horror, I was over at the parsonage of Father
Ten. Father Ten is actually a bishop (hence the rank of
ten).
In his benevolence, he tutors children that show promise.
Through him, I learnt to read and write, and speak Latin and Gold (a
language of the fifth suit, which used to be in a pack of cards,
fifteen per suit. In those days, before my time, there used
to be seventy-five cards).
Once I had the advantage and acumen of three languages, he had me read
the great classic works of all suits. As well, of course, as
maths, although this was limited to geometry and navigation.
Added to this (since before he took to the cloth, he fought in the Holy
Baron wars), he taught me to fence, shoot a musket and pistol, and
fistfight like a gentleman or dirty like a rogue.
I began my apprenticeship, in the Diamond suit, just across the border
at the callow age of nineteen, much later than normal because of my
studies with Father Ten.
My late brother… God… late. It has not
sunk in yet. Dad and Rod gone. Do you know, when I
first heard, I laughed. I haven`t felt pain yet, dry eyes but
I feel hatred.
And the need for revenge so intense that it blinds me, like staring
into the sun.
Continue. My late brother Roderick began helping my father on
our small farm when he was eight. I never envied him that. To
be candid, I hate physical work and was grateful for my place at Father
Tens.
Travel may broaden the mind, but for me it broadens my opportunity to
plot and plan.
To extinguish the fire of revenge and find a way to kill Prince Victor
and somehow meet that delightful beauty Princess Topaz. She,
her vision has found me, seeking out my thoughts and dreams.
It is not so bad in the morning when I jump off my bug-
ridden straw bed, to find the night bowl and try and aim my stiff
phallus and stare at the contents, to get my mind off her so I can
bloody aim my cock. But in the day, it makes middle-aged
women smile, and young maidens blush thinking it is for them.
It is such a pity the codpiece is out of fashion. I digress.
I may be insensitive thinking of such things. Why? I did not
commit the heinous, barbaric crime. It`s Prince Victor and
his henchmen who are the culprits. I`ll make them despair and
suffer guilt one day. Until then I refuse to suffer for them.
I have only travelled to Diamondland and, as yet, still wait for a
commission in
Heartland and Spadeland. The only chance of further travel is
if news of my good work as a master locksmith spreads and is played
across the table.
Diamondland still has me transfixed with opposed feelings of
despondency and auspicious hope. Every day that I cross the
border, on old Betty, a tractable Shire farm horse, on the way to the
Diamond palace, I pass the grey, grim huts and towers of the diamond
mines, where the bulk of club workers toil, and thank my lucky stars
that Father Ten induced me to study. Most clubs, young or
old, up to the rank of five, at the behest of our Club Prince John,
work in the diamond mines, or in the
toy
factories of Heartland, or the church mills and farmlands of
Spadeland.
By contrast, when you reach the vast, beautiful grounds of the Diamond
castle, everything changes; as from a bleak winters day, to a sparkling
diamond spring.
A mellow voice, its timbre resonant with kindness, penetrated my
thoughts.
‘A beautiful morning is a gift from God, Jeffrey
Two Club. Yet you look as if you have just left
Medusa.’
I turned in the worn old saddle of my horse. It was Father
Ten. As a Bishop, he wasn’t compelled to work
abroad but he worked as a gardener in the Diamond grounds when he could
and gave his fee to the poor.
I tried to arrange my face in a parody of a smile.
“No, my Lord, it is my mother that is now set in
stone!” I almost spat the bitterness.
Now his face converted into scowling anger. A travesty, it
was difficult for such a sweet man.
‘You must snap out of this, Jeffrey!
That terrible event happened more than a year past.’
I felt coerced by the strength of his hazel eyes. He was
forty-nine, yet for someone so old he was still handsome in a rugged
way, a strong face and a powerful stocky frame. The fact that
he was bald only added to the authority of his face. I had to
look away, otherwise he might catch the insincerity in my eyes.
‘My Lord, I beg your pardon. God`s grace
to you, and his forgiveness to me. I was suffering the
self-inflicted mental hairy vest, contemplating my unfortunate low
rank. I confess these selfish thoughts relieve me of such
dark memories of my family.’
He stared at me judiciously for a moment then smiled again.
‘I think this is good, Jeffrey. Selfish or not, you
are back amongst the living, surviving sinners.’ He said,
clipping a brown-tinged leaf off a rose bush as if he were executing
the sinners.
‘You’re too young still to understand that this day
and the beauty around us is given free by God to all. From
Two Clubs to Aces.’
How much do the club workers see? I thought.
‘Yes, I know, the club slaves,’ he said solemnly,
reading my face, even though I was looking down.
‘One day we will free them, from all suits.’
He smiled warmly. ‘Come over here,
Jeffrey. Let me see if I can cheer you up with a
story.’ I dismounted from fat old Betty, which was
a bit like jumping off a hut roof, and walked over to Father Ten.
He put his hand on my shoulder, and looked me in the eyes.
Now I could not look away. When he did this, I felt a strange
link, a bond, a connection, I don`t know. I did know that I
felt so much fondness for this old man. In all the years of
patient tutoring, he had never lost his temper. I loved his
tales, especially of the Holy Baron wars. I believed and trusted him
completely.
‘Yet another tale, my Lord.’ I regretted
the edge of mockery in my voice the moment I had spoken. His smile
almost turned upside down. ‘Now, now, Two
Club. What flicked you out of your pack this
morning?’
I lowered my head again, embarrassed this time.
‘I`m sorry, Father Ten, It`s just that I have been working at
the Diamond palace for more than two years now and I`ve got
nowhere. All I do is replace old or rusty locks, on the
kitchens, pantries, tea caddies or sheep pens. I even had to
unlock the chastity belt of a lady once, with my eyes
blindfolded.’
‘My God, that might have been the Queen
herself,’ Father Ten chortled. I looked up,
surprised. ‘Really?’
‘Yes, but never mention it. Even in
Gossips, corner.’
‘No, I was sworn to secrecy.’
‘Good. Continue.’
‘Well, even Jackson, the Two of Spades gets better
jobs. He actually works up in the palace.’
Father Ten frowned. ‘He is of a higher
suit and he is skilful.’
‘So am I!’ I pined.
‘But you are a Two…’
‘Club,’ I finished for him forlornly.
He squeezed my shoulder, looked at me with a side-glance and sighed
patiently.
‘My dear boy, I know in my heart that I have more
confidence in your heart than you do in yours.’
I noticed that the sharp morning sun caught the crown of his
shining head, giving him a halo effect. If God exists he,
she, or it has a sense of humour, I thought, trying to hide the
thoughts from my eyes.
‘If you play safe with God you will play safe in life, and
have a great future.’
‘What, changing locks?’ I quibbled.
This time he placed his other hand on my shoulder and shook
me. It always surprised me how strong this gentle man
was. I felt my hair bounce back and forward on my
head. ‘Dear God! Jeffrey! Have I taught
you nothing? All you have read and you behave like a spoilt
Two Spade. Because of my influence, you have your freedom,
and you are a cultured gentleman. You work at a job that in spite of
your whining you enjoy doing. All you have to do is feed your
belly and your seven deadly sins, leave me to feed the poor!’
Why did he always have a way of making me feel guilty?
Perhaps one day I would confute him in this.
‘Father, I am fearful of the card table. Yet I am
burning with ambition. To play the game of numbers is
difficult, if I never get to deal. I work now at court below
stairs. If I am called to the table, what for
example…. how shall I deal with a passing aristocrat,
let’s say a Six, in a bad mood? Perhaps he has just
lost a card game of whist or bridge. He can, on a whim, shoot
me for meeting his arrogant glare unless I lick his muddy riding
boots. He could beat me senseless, have me kicked out of my
tied cottage into the freezing gutter, riding like a card on the
rushing collective excretion of the town and no one will help for fear
of the same!’
I had said all this in a rush of words that suited my fears.
He stared gravely at me. ‘For a start, as
you well know, the church owns most of the land around Bridgetown and I
have much influence. And for heaven’s sake, where
is that fearless Two Club Jeffrey? If they draw their pistol
or sword, draw yours first. I have brought you up to be a
gentleman, to be courteous, dignified, to protect women, children, and
the weak, and you seem to be afraid of a fat Six? Mind you,
women are rarely weak in spirit,’ he added
wistfully.
I felt very embarrassed and irritated that he seemed to have forgotten
that I was not allowed to carry a sword at the palace, let alone a
pistol. I looked away to observe an Imperial woodpecker,
sitting on a hen. It was that time of year and at least they
were getting it.
‘You do not get it do you?’ The
tone of his voice was rhetorical but I did not get it either
way. ‘Jeffrey. I have great faith in
you. I know you to have a stout and kind heart and quite soon
you will be tested to the extreme.’
I did not like the sound of that. ‘What
do you mean father?’
‘Listen to me Jeffery. I have been to our capitol
Clubdon recently to attend her Majesty Queen Lucia, and Archbishop Ace
Melbourne, manifestly to take vespers. We talked affairs of
state. Something important, significant, is going to happen
soon.
(I tensed. His grip became tighter.) Listen! Our
Clublands, Diamondlands and Heartlands are in immanent danger of
invasion from the east, mostly some Spade forces and the old Gold suit,
where the powers of evil are exalted. This of course I tell
you in the strictest confidence. (He paused. I
nodded my head.) I am not sure about Melbourne, but I trust
the Queen. We went through the Holy Baron wars
together. I saved her life twice. I told her that I
had heard these rumours too from reliable sources like our Sir
Mosswood, Rabbi Gideon and the grinning Knight, Sir Isaak of Diamonds,
Sir Valentine of Hearts, and even Sir Leighton of the good Spades, who
like all good cards shun war. One of these names is a top
spy. Do you know who? (I shook my head.)
Remember Jeffrey, I have your word of honour on this.’
‘Yes, my lord.’ I felt
flattered. I felt my self-esteem and pride return.
‘Good. Our country, indeed all the suits
rely on us. It is the good Jew Rabbi Gideon. He is
clever and cunning as a fox. Most of our information comes
from him, through his spy network and his acute assessments.
He will approach you soon, to employ your services, and issue you with
important work.’
He dropped his hands and paused, as if the importance of all this
information had somehow exhausted him. Then he looked
searchingly into my eyes with concern, paused, and held out his hand,
which I grasped.
‘My dear boy, please take care,’ he said with
feeling, while staring at Betty, my Shire horse, who was tearing up
huge mounds of grass and daisies and devouring all.
‘The road ahead may be worse than Saint Paul`s Damascus or
the labours of Hercules, and I love you like my own
son. (He paused. A cloud seemed to pass across his
piercing eyes. He shuddered.) Remember, Jeffrey,
there is more to the plot than you being a locksmith, that is
circumstantial. It is better than a butler; if you are caught
by a door on your knees, it is normal. The Rabbi has pulled a
few strings in court to have you promoted to the Royal apartments, from
today.’
I was surprised but delighted by the prospects of promotion and I felt
a flutter in my stomach at the thought that I would see Princess Topaz,
even if it were only at a distance. I wondered though why
Father Ten was only now so effusive.
‘Why, Father, are you, er…’
‘ Telling you all this here and
now?’ He asked. I nodded.
‘ I knew you travelled this road. Walls have ears
and as you will soon find out doors have keyholes. We have to
be ahead of the…’
Suddenly, there was a peal of hunting trumpets, and the sound of
approaching horses. We spun around. Cantering down
the road towards the Diamond palace was a corps of Spade officers and
soldiers, in their black and gold uniforms and doublets with the big
gold cross on their chests. Leading this group was a massive, bulky man
on a horse, a stallion, nearly as big as Betty, but much
faster. He had a granite face with a matted beard.
‘For the love of God! Bow,
Jeffrey!’ Father Ten hissed.
‘Who is it?’
I asked, unruffled, cocky and newly confident.
Then Father Ten`s large hand struck out like a baited bear, and forced
my head down.
‘Did I teach you nothing but stupidity?’
He asked, from his humble position. ‘It`s Victor,
the Black Prince! From Spadeland on a courtesy visit to the
Diamond court. He would cut you down for not bowing,
especially a Two Club.’
I was infused with a charge of anger. Here passing was the
monster who had tortured, humiliated and murdered my family.
In this fit of temper, I wanted to run full pelt at the savage and tear
out his throat. ‘He killed my father and
brother! And tortured my mother’s honour and
soul!’ I struggled against his iron grip.
‘If I let you go you will throw you’re
self on his sword for his pleasure?’ He pulled me
around so our noses almost touched. I could smell onion bread
and mead on his breath.
‘Listen to me well Jeffrey!’ Fine spittle
sprayed my face and I think a piece of onion.
‘Only a Prince like that has the privilege and advantage to
choose his battles and he gets most of them fought for him.
You, a mere Two Club, have only patience and your wits. Give
me your word that from now on you will use them?’ I
nodded. He gave one of his gentle smiles, and hugged me
hard. I shyly patted his back, as if he were an over-zealous
sheepdog. But he knew that I loved him dearly. He pulled back
to look at me again. ‘Until you meet Rabbi Gideon,
report to me every morning.’
I nodded again.
I looked around at the road. The Black Prince had passed,
only a curl of dust in the distance marked his departure. I
made a vow inwardly to myself that, one day, dust would indeed mark his
departure, to dust.