Chapter 27
Kristana: “the rhythm of blood and the day”
She was listening to the water drain out of the tub and pulling her boots on when the knock at the door intruded. Sighing, she stood, regarded herself in the mirror, stopped being just a relaxed woman and became the Governor of Rado again. “What is it?”
“The prisoners are here, Governor.”
“All right,” she said. “I'll be right down to welcome them to Denver.” She fastened her shirt and adjusted the shoulder boards. There were stars on them. Robbie's stars. I never knew two stupid bits of obsolete rank insignia could be so heavy, she thought. On days like today it seemed the weight of them was crushing her.
“Are you getting out of that tub?” she snapped. “Or are you just going to stand there dripping until you get pneumonia?”
“Are those my only two choices?” he said. Old but not too-badly muscled legs swung over the edge of the bathtub and planted themselves on the tiles. “It's about time they showed up.”
“They couldn't have picked a worse time,” she said. “Aria's birthday is in two days. We ought to be planning that instead of figuring out how to hold a trial that's fair but brief.”
“There's a lot of things we ought to be doing,” he said. “Like taking longer baths.”
She shook her head. The man was relentless. “We take too many chances as it is. If the others knew what we – “
He silenced her with a kiss. “What we do alone is our own business,” he said. “And don't worry, I understand why it has to stay that way.”
“You know I wish it didn't have to be a secret,” she said. “But it is what it is.”
“No worries,” he said. “You go on ahead. “I'll wait and follow after your guards lead you to the stairs.”
She closed the bathroom door behind her and strode to the outer door of her suite. Charles and Terence were waiting for her. “What shape are they in?” she asked.
“They walked in,” said Terence. “As far as I can tell, they're in better shape than they have any reason to expect. If it weren't for Xander the boys would've strung 'em up already.”
“There will be no lynchings while I'm Governor,” she said. “And they'd better not accidentally fall down stairs or walk into a door in my building. Is that clear?”
“Absolutely” said Charles.
They entered the stairwell and headed down. “Have we found any living relatives of the Ferrero family?”
“No ma'am. His wife's parents died in the last war. And Gus's were carried off by the plague we had five years back. I'm afraid there's no one.”
“Damn. I suppose they burned his crops, too?”
“Yes, Governor.”
Yet another problem. Who would take over the farm? Especially one so near the border with Texas. Maybe, she thought, we need to push the border a little further south, this time.
The prisoners were a sorry-looking bunch. But few people would look better after losing a fight with a wizard and being dragged up to Denver. The Governor looked them over. “Well?” she demanded. “What do you have to say for yourselves?”
They all looked at the tallest one. He must be the leader, she realized. What a surprise.
He surprised her by grinning. “Glock, Brutus, Commander, First Recon, Lone Star Empire. Service number eight five eight oh three one seven.”
She rolled her eyes. “Give me a reason why you should go on living, Commander.”
He just smiled. “Glock, Brutus, Commander, First Recon, Lone Star Empire. Service number eight five eight oh three one seven.”
“If that's what you plan to say at the trial,” the Governor told him, “we might be able to finish in one day. You must be very eager to die.”
The redhead with the scar above his left eyebrow didn't even blink. His grin did not waver. “Glock, Brutus, Commander, First Recon – “
“Yes I heard you. Service number eight five eight oh three one seven.” She glanced at the others. “Any of you lunkheads have more sense than your commander?”
One of them opened his mouth, as if to say something. But then his eyes strayed to the big redhead and he closed his mouth again.
“I could just hang the lot of you,” she mused out loud. “Then again, my people are likely to petition me to try torture on you first.”
“But you won't,” the big guy said. “You haven't the guts for it.”
“Is that what you call what you had at that farm? Guts?” She wrinkled her lips in disgust. “You must have different definitions for things down there in the Honcho's country.”
“Sure do. For example, 'Governor' ain't a word for 'woman' down there. We stop taking orders from women soon as we're old enough to ride, fight, and drink.”
Her guards Charles and Terence bristled at that. She didn't blame them. “Up here we obey whoever's in charge, which happens to be me at the moment. What about your boys? Did your Honcho order you to rape and kill non-combatants?” She shook her head. “Somehow I doubt it. Peter's a lot of things, but he'd never sink that low. You know what I think?” she said, studying the redhead. “I think he won't care what we do to you when he hears what you did.”
His face darkened, but he had no reply to that, so she turned and left the room. Her guards accompanied her. As the three of them headed for the stairs she told Charles “Put together a jury as soon as possible. We'll do this legally, but I don't want that guy to live any longer than necessary.”
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