The Baltic War(296)
Ulrik looked up at the tavern's sign. The nonexistent sign. Then, at what might be the entrance to a tavern. Maybe.
"Could they have found a more inconspicuous and wretched-looking place?" he asked.
"They are who they are. Which, if you've forgotten, is why we came here to begin with."
Ulrik waved him forward. "You first. You're the nerveless adventurer. I'm just a timid national hero. Better you than me, if the floor collapses or the roof falls down or giants rats come at us."
Smiling, still thinly, Baldur led the way.
Inside, the tavern wasn't quite as wretched-looking as its exterior had been. Which wasn't saying a lot, of course.
Aside from the tavern keeper, the only occupants of the room were a small crowd gathered around a large table toward the back. All men, except for two women. They were wearing the same sort of common apparel that Ulrik and Baldur were wearing, but they looked as completely out of place as a den of lions in a mousehole.
"Yes, that's them," murmured Baldur. As if Ulrik could have any doubts.
This time, Ulrik led the way. As he got nearer, he heard one of the men at the table whisper to another, "Heads up, Harry. We got trouble."
He spoke in English, perhaps thinking that a Danish prince wouldn't be familiar with the tongue. Which, indeed, most wouldn't.
Ulrik decided he might as well start there. He not only spoke the language—rather well, by now—he even had something of an Appalachian accent, according to Eddie. So, when he came to a stop, just a few feet away, he said in English:
"I am Prince Ulrik of Denmark. I believe I am speaking to Captain Harry Lefferts, of the USE Army."
He addressed the remarks to the man who had been the recipient of the whisper. Even without that clue, however, Ulrik would have known who their commander was. For someone like himself, born and raised in a position of power, it was quite obvious in ways he would have found difficult to explain in words—but obvious, nevertheless.
The man who gazed back at him was a handsome young fellow. Considerably more handsome—and certainly much younger—than Ulrik would have expected, from the reputation. He even had a boyish sort of grin, which he now put on display. The only real indication that Ulrik could see that this was the Captain Lefferts was something in his eyes. There were subtleties there, beneath the apparent insouciance.
Baldur spotted it also, judging from the way he became just that little bit more still, more watchful. Lefferts was a very dangerous man, did he choose to be; of that Ulrik was quite certain. Which was what he expected, of course. He wouldn't have come here, otherwise.
"Yup, that's me, Prince. What can I do for you?"
Ulrik wanted to clear his throat, which felt very dry, but managed to restrain himself. "I believe you have come here to Copenhagen to rescue Lieutenant Eddie Cantrell from captivity. And I believe it would be fruitful if we could discuss the matter, before you do anything."
Every person at the table became suddenly motionless. The aura of menace, heretofore present but subtle, was no longer subtle at all.
Captain Lefferts made a small motion with his hand. A little downward flap, as if to quiet restless monsters.
"Interesting theory, Prince. If you don't mind me asking, is it yours—or your father's?"
Ulrik pointed with his thumb to Baldur, standing next to him. "His, actually. This is Baldur Norddahl, my . . . ah, call him companion. Or 'sidekick,' to use American idiom."
The eyes of everyone at the table now went to Baldur. As impossible as it seemed, the motionless figures grew intensely motionless. In the manner that wary monsters will, encountering another.
"He's normally quite harmless," Ulrik said. "I assure you. And in answer to your real question, Captain Lefferts, my father does not know that you are here in Copenhagen. Nor does he know that I came here to speak to you. I came on my own, because I believe my father—not for the first time, alas—is gambling too recklessly."
After a moment, Lefferts nodded. "Have a seat, then, please. Paul and Don, clear a space for him."
As they did so, Baldur reached back and pulled up a chair for Ulrik from an adjoining empty table. By the time the prince sat down, the tension at the table had eased somewhat.
Not much, though.
Lefferts still had a smile on his face, but there was no trace of the humor that had been in his eyes earlier. "All right, Prince. I'll be blunt. Cut to the chase and do it quickly. Since your Americanese is damn good enough to understand the expression. Got that from Eddie, I take it?"
"Yes. He is, by now, a friend of mine."