The Black Opera by Mary Gentle Page A

be blackened if they got out, since they appear to be dedicated to the cause of our enemies.”
    â€œA double agent has a thankless task.” Conrad refrained from adding what had become obvious in the war: trusted by neither side, and killed off by either pretty quickly . It must have been obvious in his expression.
    Ferdinand leaned back, the shifting sunlight blazing ultramarine across the rich cloth of his uniform jacket, catching his white breeches and cavalry boots. He said quietly, “I have only one spy who’s grown to a power in the inner ranks of the Prince’s Men. He’s called ‘Adriano,’ since it’s one of his many baptismal names, and there are plenty of men similarly called. It’s from him I have most of my information—there would have been no warning, otherwise.”
    The King’s eyes were momentarily blank with reflected light. Conrad felt a sudden cold in his belly, and recognised it. The morning of battle, before the first exchange of shots.
    Enrico Mantenucci leaned forward. “Signore Adriano was by luck present at the beginning of this particular conspiracy. He finally succeeded in infiltrating the heart of the Prince’s Men a few years ago.”
    â€œAnd that was not by luck.” Ferdinand smiled. “When I met him, Adriano was already skilled in looking a fool and being a very clever man. He said it put him at an advantage when people underestimated him. I knew him first as a junior member of the Diplomatic Corps, dealing with the Emperor of the North. I tracked him through a nest of his superiors, in fact, so that I could meet the man who was actually keeping the Two Sicilies from the Emperor’s influence—by a mixture of distraction, subterfuge, and a highly-intelligent mind that could think on his feet.”
    The King’s mind was clearly not on the painted wall maps. His gaze focused miles and years away.
    â€œHad you been privileged to watch Adriano’s diplomatic dances with the Emperor… He has a fool’s face, beautiful as a woman’s, with black hair and the most remarkable blue eyes—If he had been a woman, you could only have called it flirting. And then he dropped that manner completely when he infiltrated the Prince’s Men. They were impressed by dangerous men, so he kept that aspect of himself to the fore. At my request, he has allowed himself to be drawn deeper and deeper into their affairs. Adriano used to be regarded by society as a dilettante. After much contact with the Prince’s Men and their associates—I suppose there are very few now who don’t think him some kind of criminal.”
    Mantenucci nodded silent agreement.
    â€œAdriano has never complained to me about the loss of his public reputation,” Ferdinand said. “I’ve never condemned what he has to do to maintain his position. How can I, when I demand the information he can bring?”
    Conrad caught the King’s deliberate glance.
    This is also a warning to me . Whatever reputation I end up with, I can never tell anyone the truth.
    Conrad swallowed down another hot coffee. He dared to serve both Mantenucci and the King from the pot, while Ferdinand’s mood remained so abstracted. The Commendatore nodded silent agreement not to call the servants.
    Ferdinand Bourbon-Sicily stood.
    Chairs scraped as Conrad barely managed to follow Mantenucci, rising as protocol demanded.
    The King started off down the map gallery with a measured pace, speaking into the silence.
    â€œA number of years ago, Adriano made contact with the inner circle of the Prince’s Men. He passed invaluable intelligence to me… When it came out thata covert journey was being planned, supposedly to the Dutch East Indies, I authorised him to travel as a high-ranking member of the conspiracy. Their exact destination was not known, but by then Adriano had a theory about what they intended to do.”
    Ferdinand stopped. He