‘Come up and have breakfast with me later, all right? You haven’t told me about the adventures of Charlie for ages.’ He nodded to the rat.
‘All right,’ Clay agreed, soothed. He stroked Kite’s arm. ‘Sorry. About the fire.’
‘No need to be sorry, just don’t do again. See you later.’ Kite disentangled himself as softly as he could have, and turned away. Joe ducked behind the chain, but Kite reached round and pulled him out by his shirt. ‘I’m deaf, not stupid,’ he said, with no ire.
‘Why’s he trying to kill me?’ Joe demanded, squashing down the feeling that he’d been caught doing something wrong. He hadn’t. It was reasonable to want to know.
‘I told you, he’s—’
‘Clay,’ Joe called past him. ‘Clay—’
‘What?’
‘God’s sake,’ Kite hissed. ‘Rob, it’s all right, pay no attention. Don’t upset him, Tournier—’
‘Upset him! He set me on fire! That is extremely personal, Kite! He knows who I am, doesn’t he—’
‘I know who Madeline is,’ Kite interrupted.
The whole world spun. ‘What?’ said Joe.
Kite caught a rafter as the ship powered downhill on what must have been an enormous wave. ‘Leave Clay alone and I’ll show you what I have of her.’
‘What you … how do you mean?’
‘Come on.’
‘Are you lying, are you about to chain me to something? Because I’ll fucking find a way to ask Clay even if I am chained to—’
‘Yes, I believe you,’ Kite said, weary. ‘She wrote a letter, and it found its way to me. You can have it.’
‘I can … but you didn’t want to tell me anything before.’
‘Yes, well, I don’t want you to drive Clay mad either.’
‘He’s already mad. What happened to him, why—’
‘The deal,’ Kite said quietly, ‘is that you leave Rob alone, and you can have this letter. If I give it to you and you then go chasing after him—’
‘You’ll chain me to the mast, yes—’
‘No,’ said Kite, ‘I’ll shoot you in the knee. He was broken in navy service, Tournier, and he deserves some proper care now. I won’t have you asking him useless questions. He’s nothing to do with you, but you won’t believe that until you’ve chased him half to distraction, and then he’ll be even worse, and I prefer not to wake up on fire. Don’t you?’
‘Yes,’ Joe admitted.
‘Then we agree,’ Kite said, and nodded at him to go up the ladder first.
Back in the stateroom, by the thin light of a single candle, Kite slid open one of his desk drawers and drew out a battered envelope. He stood holding it, and studying Joe.
‘This was smuggled out of France two years ago,’ Kite said. ‘It was handed by one of Madeline’s gaolers to an English captain who had no idea what it meant, but he read it out at a pub in Edinburgh because he thought it was so strange. The whole business with the Kingdom was kept secret, very secret. I bought it off him.’
‘Her gaolers …’
‘Read it,’ said Kite, who looked like he’d had enough of talking for at least the next week. He held out the envelope. ‘But somewhere else, please. You can’t be in here alone with me.’
22
The envelope felt like there was a good amount of paper inside. There was no name or address on the front, just To the English forces in a clear hand. Joe took it down to the gun deck, to where the lamps were always lit and the sailors who’d just come off watch were having their coffee and biscuits. Until he found somewhere to sit, he kept it pressed hard against his chest, worried that he’d drop it or Kite would change his mind and follow him to snatch it back.
At a spare place at the end of a table, he opened the worn flap of the envelope and slid out the papers. There were about twenty pages of the same neat, clear writing. Even as he glanced it over, checking that the pages were double-sided – and thank God, they were – he felt a fresh round of seasickness. He swallowed it down. He was going to read some of this document even if he had to do it stooped over a bucket. His fingertips shaking, he smoothed the pages flat against the table. They made a gritty sound against some grains of old salt there. Two years; he’d been looking for her for two years and here she was.
*
I have entrusted this to one of the guards, who owes me a series of favours. He has promised to send