CHAPTER TWO

THE GILDED CAGE

‘I will be leaving you at home,’ said Gabriella as Ulrika rode in the coach with her through Nuln to their temporary quarters. ‘I must go on to the Handelbezirk to meet with Madam Dagmar’s old employees, to familiarise myself with procedures and client lists. You will find it boring.’

Ulrika made no reply. She just stared out the window.

‘I have a surprise waiting for you at home,’ Gabriella continued. ‘I think you will be very pleased.’

Ulrika still said nothing, and finally Gabriella sighed.

‘I am sorry I raised my voice to you, beloved,’ she said. ‘But I cannot have you speaking with Famke.’

‘Why is that?’ asked Ulrika, turning from the window. ‘Why shouldn’t I speak to her?’

‘Why is that, mistress,’ said Gabriella. ‘You must not forget yourself because I gave you some autonomy during the recent troubles. The crisis is over now.’

‘Why is that, mistress?’ said Ulrika through her teeth.

‘Much better,’ said Gabriella. ‘Because, though we are now supposed allies, Hermione is still actively working against me. She does not want me in Nuln any more than I wish to be here, and she is deathly afraid I will be promoted above her. Therefore she will try her best to ruin my name and reputation while I am here.’

‘And what does that have to do with Famke, mistress?’ asked Ulrika.

‘Don’t be dense, girl,’ said Gabriella. ‘Famke is her creature. She is a spy for Hermione as surely as you are a spy for me, and will report anything you say to her mistress. You cannot trust her.’

Ulrika clenched her fists until her nails bit into her palms, but she couldn’t contain her fury. ‘Must I see no one but you?’ she cried at last. ‘You killed Holmann! You deny me Famke! Who am I to talk to?’

Gabriella blinked, bemused. ‘You may of course speak to me any time you like, dearest,’ she said. ‘But if you require other playmates, there will be swains aplenty once the new brothel opens its doors. We will have a score of handsome gentlemen to guard us, and the most beautiful women in the Empire at our beck and call.’

‘I don’t want swains!’ Ulrika barked. ‘Have I not said? I let Holmann die rather than make him my slave. I want equals! I want true friendships, not the servile fawning of besotted fools!’

For a moment, Gabriella looked like she would reply in kind, but finally her face softened. ‘Then I’m afraid you will often be lonely amongst us, child. Though I have had good friends over the course of my centuries in the sisterhood, they have been few and far between. There is too much vying for position for most sisters to be true friends. Only when some outside force attacks us do we unite.’ She paused at that, smiling wryly. ‘And sometimes not even then.’

She patted Ulrika’s knee. ‘Our position will not always be so precarious, dearest,’ she said. ‘There will be a time when I will be able to allow you to find true companionship outside my house, but until then, I will do my best to be the friend you require.’

Ulrika turned back to the window, unconsoled. ‘A friend I must call “mistress”,’ she said.

They made the rest of the trip in silence.

Gabriella’s temporary home was in the Kaufman District, a quiet neighbourhood of rich merchants south of the noble Aldig Quarter. It was an unassuming little half-timbered row house, maintained by Hermione for just such situations as this – as a residence for visiting sisters who could not be seen staying at her own house. It had two floors, two bedrooms, a butler, a coachman and a maid – all blood-swains, of course.

Gabriella and Ulrika had lived there since they had crept back into Nuln after leaving the artful carnage to be found at Mondthaus, and to Ulrika it felt more like a prison – a well-furnished prison, to be sure, with heavy oak furniture and coloured glass in the windows and carved and painted ceiling beams, but a prison nonetheless. While Gabriella, Hermione and all her minions were busy arranging new identities and hiding old ones, Ulrika had more often than not been left to cool her heels there with nothing to do except read and pace and brood about the turn her life had taken since she had died.

The maid let them in from the small yard at the back, and Ulrika made to go directly to her room, but Gabriella laughed and caught her hand, holding her back.

‘No no, beloved,’ she said. ‘I will not have you sulking. Come to the parlour. I must go in a moment, but have a surprise for you, remember?’

Ulrika curtseyed but kept her eyes on the floor. ‘As you wish, mistress.’

Gabriella sighed and smiled sadly. ‘I know you are chafing against the edges of our life just now, but it will get better, I promise you.’

‘How will it get better?’ asked Ulrika, looking at her at last. ‘We will change this coffin for a bigger one, with whores in it. It will still be a coffin.’

Gabriella frowned. ‘You are determined to be offensive, but you will not bait me. Come.’

She led Ulrika into the tidy little parlour. On the Araby rug in the middle was a great trunk, stood on one end, with brass fittings at the corners, and a key sticking out of the lock.

Gabriella gestured to it. ‘Open it.’

Ulrika hesitated, then stepped forwards and turned the key. The lid swung out, almost of its own accord, revealing that the trunk was a neatly constructed miniature armoire, with a rail to hang clothes on, and little compartments for accessories, shoes and toiletries – and it was packed with male clothing.

Ulrika struggled hard to remain unimpressed, and to cling to her anger, but she couldn’t resist taking one of the doublets off the rail and holding it up. It was beautiful – black velvet embroidered with grey thread – and with slashed breeches and hose to match. There were three more doublets on the rail, in deep shades of burgundy, green and grey, as well as a black cape, a few lace-trimmed white shirts, and tucked below them, a pair of thigh-high black riding boots made of supple Estalian leather, and an exquisite Tilean-made matched rapier and dagger set, complete with sword belt and sheaths.

‘I took the measurements from your ruined riding gear,’ said Gabriella. ‘I know you are more comfortable dressed so, and since you did me such great service as my “drake”, I decided you must be rewarded.’

Ulrika turned to Gabriella, holding the black velvet doublet to her breast. She wanted to shuck her dresses and wig right then and there and try it on. ‘Thank you, mistress. This… this is a great gift.’

Gabriella smiled. ‘I hoped you would like it. You will of course still wear your skirts when we make formal calls,’ she continued. ‘But when you are at your leisure, you may dress as you like.’

Ulrika bowed. ‘Thank you, I…’ She looked up suddenly at Gabriella, her eyes lighting up. ‘May I come with you, now? Will you wait while I change?’

Gabriella pursed her lips. ‘As I said before, it will not be to your taste. I am meeting with the procuress and the kitchen staff, and I am late already.’

‘Then may I go out?’ Ulrika asked. ‘On my own? Just a walk around the neighbourhood? To the park in the Aldig?’

Gabriella’s lips became a hard flat line. ‘Don’t be silly, my dear. It is too dangerous. You know we must be invisible now. The city has quieted somewhat, but the vampire mania has not subsided entirely. All that is required is one spark and we are back to where we were before.’

‘But no one will know what I am,’ protested Ulrika. ‘Do you think I’m fool enough to reveal my claws and fangs? I learned that lesson.’

‘They will know you are unusual,’ said Gabriella. ‘A woman in male attire. The unusual attracts attention, and we cannot afford attention, do you not see?’

Ulrika stared at her, rage beginning to simmer within her again. ‘Then precisely when am I allowed to wear these clothes? You say I may not wear them when we go calling, and I may not wear them in public, but only at my leisure. Do you expect me to stay at home and march from room to room in them?’ She snatched up the boots and held them up. ‘These are for riding, mistress. When may I ride?’

Gabriella drew herself up. ‘Do not take that tone with me, child. I am merely thinking of your–’

Ulrika cut her off. ‘Do not call me child! I am a grown woman. I have travelled the world from Kislev to Middenheim to the Worlds Edge Mountains. I have fought the hordes of Chaos. I have led men in battle. And you will not let me leave the house?’ Her rage was at full boil now, and the world turned red around her, as if she saw through crimson lenses. Her arm twitched with the desire to hurl the boots at a statue of a noble lady with a knight kneeling at her feet that sat on a table across the room, but she held back, and forced herself to speak in an even tone when she would rather have spit the words in Gabriella’s face. ‘You think of me as some kind of doll, to be dressed up first as a girl, then as a boy, then left under the bed when you have tired of playing. Well, I am not a doll, and I am not a child. I will go where I wish to go, and I will speak to whom I wish to speak.’

‘Ulrika–’ said Gabriella.

Ulrika did not slow, and despite her attempt at control, her voice began to rise. ‘I owe you fealty for saving my life and teaching me the ways of your sisterhood, and I will serve you faithfully because of it, but I am not your slave. I am not your dog.’ She laughed bitterly. ‘Ha! You said I was your friend. Does a friend say “sit and stay”, and expect one to be happy with a bone and a bowl of water?’

‘Enough!’ snapped Gabriella, then softened her tone. ‘It is because I am your friend that I do this. I know you feel confined, and I know it is cruelty to offer you clothes and no opportunity to wear them, but as I said before, these things will come.’

‘When?’ cried Ulrika.

‘Soon,’ said Gabriella. ‘We live a long time, beloved, and eventually all things happen. When we are established, when we have the measure of the authorities, then we may allow ourselves more leeway. If you have patience, friends will come, freedom will come, you will ride where you wish to ride, and come and go as you please, but not now. Not for a while yet. I am sorry.’

Ulrika trembled with frustration, crushing the velvet of the doublet in her fists, but then she slumped. ‘I am sorry too, mistress,’ she said. ‘I know we must be cautious. I know I must be patient. It is only that…’

‘It is only that you are not bred to this confinement,’ said Gabriella, stepping to her and folding her in her arms. ‘I know. You are a child of the wide Kislev plains, and I believe the cloistered nature of Lahmian life pains you more than the shedding of blood.’ She kissed Ulrika’s cheek. ‘I promise you, dearest. You will ride again, but–’ She lifted Ulrika’s chin and looked her in the eye. ‘But you must make a promise to me as well.’

‘What is it, mistress?’ asked Ulrika.

‘You must promise to obey me now,’ said Gabriella. ‘You must promise to bide here in the house until I give you leave to depart. You must let me be the one who decides when it is safe to go out, and with whom it is safe to speak. These strictures will not last, but until I lift them, I would have your word that you will obey them.’

Ulrika hesitated. She felt like Gabriella was stuffing her into the trunk with the doublets and boots and closing it tight. She wanted to run. She wanted to see the moons. But at the same time, she knew the countess was right. It was too dangerous now. They were on unfamiliar ground, and the population was still too unsettled. With a sigh she nodded her head. ‘Very well, mistress. I will obey you. You have my word that I will stay in the house, and that I will only speak to whom you allow.’

Ulrika felt Gabriella’s arms relax around her. She smiled and stroked Ulrika’s cheek. ‘Thank you, dear one,’ she said. ‘I will make it up to you one day, you will see.’

With another kiss on the cheek, she stepped back and collected her gloves. ‘I wish I could speak to you further on this, but I must go. I will return before daybreak. Feed from the maid if you wish, and I asked the butler to bring new books from the bookstalls. You shall have plenty to occupy you.’

‘Thank you, mistress,’ said Ulrika, and walked with her to the back door, where the maid waited with Gabriella’s cloak. ‘Take care.’

‘I will,’ said Gabriella.

The maid fixed the cloak around her shoulders, then opened the door and curtseyed her into the yard. Ulrika turned away as the girl closed the door again, then paused as she heard the key turning in the lock.

She turned back. The maid had no key in her hand. The door had been locked from the outside.