5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

By the end of our first meeting, Wakefield had invited me to call him Wakado and I had graciously accepted. With a name like that, I'd expected a joker and a jester but instead the man was ponderous and deliberate with a solemnity that I hadn't anticipated. He took time to consider his words and there was something reassuring about him. I had zero doubt that he was a man whom I could come to admire.

Franklin Tarquin – Tarkers – was as unusual as his name, however. He gave me a respectful bow but there was no kneeling, and he sprawled when he sat in the chair opposite me. His mousy brown hair was messy and probably hadn't been brushed for a few days, and his easy smile was warm and unreserved. He had crow's feet around his eyes; he looked like he laughed often and hard, and I liked him instantly .

‘Your Majesty,' he started. ‘Let me thank you for your kind invitation.'

‘You're very welcome. Any friend of Wilfred Samuel…' I trailed off and smiled.

‘Is a friend of yours!' he completed happily. ‘A great man, Wilf. His death was a sad loss to many.'

My smile became strained; I had been responsible for that death. Tarkers clearly realised that he had inserted both feet into his mouth because he winced. ‘Sorry, Your Maj. Didn't think that one through.'

‘Clearly,' I said drily but with a forgiving smile, then I dived straight into more important matters. I had less than fifteen minutes before we needed to leave for Grandy's duel. ‘You knew Lord Samuel was investigating the Black Tourney?'

‘Yes, of course.'

‘Do you know whom he suspected?'

‘Larsden, Ramsay and Aitken. And Frost – Ace, that is, not Beckett. Though I think he suspected Beckett, too. Beckett was a naughty boy.' Tarkers wagged his finger. He spoke quickly and his eyes gleamed with intelligence. For all he was an alpha male he looked more like an athlete: tall and sinewy. I suspected his opponents frequently underestimated him as they did me.

‘William Walker?' I suggested .

‘Nah,' Tarkers shook his head. ‘Will's a straight arrow through and through.'

‘He appears to have unexplained wealth.'

‘Ah now, there's a reason for that,' Tarkers responded. ‘He's second to Ducky – Edward Hughes – who has been super-supportive of Will's golfing. Will plays professional golf under a pseudonym and he's come second and third in a few tournaments. He wins good money and tithes ten percent to his pack, so Ducky's happy for him to go here, there and everywhere with his competitions. It's a pain for the Council, though, because it means he usually votes on Council matters through a proxy.'

My mouth fell open. ‘He's a Council member but he's never there because he's off golfing?' I said incredulously.

‘I wouldn't say never ,' Tarkers smirked. ‘But "rarely"? Yeah, I'd say that.'

If that were true, it certainly gave William Walker a reason for all his flash cash: he wasn't a Black Tourney organiser, just a man with a decent swing. Dammit.

‘Ducky?' I asked nosily. ‘Where does that nickname come from?'

‘Hughes. Huey. Huey, Dewey and Luey. Donald Duck. Ducky.'

‘Of course,' I agreed flatly.

He flashed me a grin. ‘God forbid a man has a nickname that actually make sense.'

‘Indeed. What can you tell me about Aitken?'

Tarkers grew solemn. ‘Well, I call him Aitken,' he confessed drily.

‘Not your best bud?'

‘He has a rod up his arse. It's so long that by rights it should be coming out of his mouth.'

‘Please,' I said faintly, ‘tell me what you really think.'

He burst out laughing. ‘Right you are, Your Maj.' He immediately became serious again. ‘I saw what you can do, Queenie, and I'm not in a hurry to have you turn your head wolfie on my account. I'll tell it like it is until you tell me otherwise.'

I waved away the suggestion. ‘I'll never tell you otherwise. I value honesty.'

‘Then we're going to get on like a wizard and his wand, Your Maj.'

‘Wizards don't actually use wands, do they?' I frowned. Wizards use the Intention and Release, and they had no need of wands as far as I knew – but every day was a school day and this realm did so love its secrets. Maybe wizards did have wands .

He coloured. ‘Ah, no. Sorry, Queenie. That one is an off-colour saying. It means a wizard and his…' He trailed off and gestured to his crotch.

‘Crotchular region?' I suggested.

‘Right you are.' He winked.

Despite myself, I was really starting to like this slightly crass man. I could see why Lord Samuel had enjoyed his company, though I wondered cynically if Samuel had merely been pumping the loquacious alpha for information. Which reminded me… ‘Where's your beta?' I enquired.

‘Left him at home, Your Maj. Someone needs to run things in my absence.'

One of my eyebrows rose of its own accord. ‘You didn't feel vulnerable strolling in here alone?'

‘Oh, yes, Queenie, I did. Felt like I was strolling in with my meat and two veg for all and sundry to see and tackle. But if I'm for the chop, best not bring the others down with me.'

‘You're not for the chop,' I assured him. ‘I'm trying to start a revolution, and for that I need allies. What better place to start than with the men my old alpha used to trust?'

He smiled. ‘Right you are. Not just a pretty face,' he said to himself, obviously thinking aloud. ‘You'll want Debbie, too.'

I blinked. A woman? How had I not heard of her? ‘Who is Debbie? She can't be an alpha.'

His expression grew rueful. ‘Sorry to get your hopes up. He . Richard Denby. Debbie.'

I grimaced. Dammit, I had got my hopes up. I wanted more powerful women on side – though Rae was a start. ‘Ah, Denby from Derby?'

‘That's the one.' He clicked his fingers and did a ‘gun' finger point.

‘He's coming tomorrow. He had something on today,' I explained. I surreptitiously checked my watch. Time to go: Thomas Elliott really wasn't going to like being left hanging. I'd see Elliott after Grandy's duel. Probably.

Tarkers was nodding enthusiastically. ‘Ah, good. Debbie's a sharp man, a good one to have on side.'

‘I'm glad to hear it,' I said calmly.

I hoped I could get him on my side. God knows, my enemies already had quite the cadre going already. It wouldn't be long until Rain struck at me and I had to be ready.

At the moment, I was anything but.