Retribution

by Benjamin J Boswell

  For a minute, Ben-Ezra just sat there in stunned surprise. “I…uh, I don’t even know what to say, Your Majesty. Or where to begin…or whether that’s even legal. I mean, Your Majesty, the Hadiqan Investigative Service and Hadiqan Naval Intelligence are both very good and have—”

  Esther raised her hand, cutting the Lieutenant off. “I know that Naval Intelligence is very good, but that’s just it, Asher,” said Esther, calling him by his first name for the first time, “They are naval intelligence and any information that they receive will be viewed from that perspective. And I don’t trust the Investigative Services intelligence division. The nobility have too many hands within that organization and you know how they feel about me. I haven’t drawn near the Funds from the treasury that Vana used to and I’ll set it up so that you can draw from my allowance directly to get started with. After I convince Asserius of this necessity, we’ll setup alternate means of funding.”

  “The concept is great, Your Majesty,” said Ben-Ezra, “and I can see how such a network would be of use, but heading up something like this is way above my level. Wouldn’t you prefer someone more senior?”

  Esther smiled. “Well, if you hadn’t noticed, Lieutenant, I’m a bit junior myself, and I’ve found that many of the more experienced individuals who I could choose are not terribly accepting of their new Queen’s ideas. Too many are not adaptable, Asher. Besides, we’re developing this from scratch and you’re young enough to see it through. If you accept, I will release you from the Navy and transfer your commission to the Imperial Guard. Organizationally, you will report directly to Jeshua, myself, or the King and will carry the title of ‘Inspector’. Once you are setup, we will have the regular intelligence reports currently being sent to Naval Intelligence and the Investigative Services routed to your organization as well. Of course, if you feel that I should really choose someone more senior…”

  “No! I mean, I’m honored, Your Majesty,” Ben-Ezra said, obviously overwhelmed by the suddenness of it all, but he also seemed excited and eager. “I accept your offer.”

  “Good,” said Esther with a smile. “Start thinking about how you want to organize things and once we reach Valsgärd, you can begin in earnest. I’m hoping by then we will have caught our ‘traitor’. That has to be top priority right now because, as you said, suspicion will begin to erode the crew.”

  “Yes, Your Majesty.”

  A knock sounded on the door and Mac entered the small cabin with a large pitcher. “I’ve brought warm water for the wash basin. The escort captains will be arriving within the hour.”

  “Thank you, Mac,” Esther said, gesturing for him to place the pitcher on her vanity next to the wash basin.

  “If there’ll be nothing else, Your Majesty?” Ben-Ezra said.

  “Just one more thing. The culture we infuse this new organization with is going to be very important. I want no fertile ground for corruption to take root like it has with other organizations. We will found this on principles of justice and only use the level of intrusion and intervention applicable to the risk, do you understand?”

  Ben-Ezra nodded. “I think I do, Your Majesty.”

  “Good heavens, you’re going to have ethical spies?” said Marigold, “Is there such a thing?”

  “There is now,” said Esther. Ben-Ezra nodded, giving her a knowing look, then turned and followed Mac out of her bedchamber, closing the door behind them.

  “Well, that was bold,” said Marigold. “You’re placing a lot of trust in that young man.”

  Esther shrugged. “Difficult times call for bold measures.”

  “Which reminds me,” Marigold said, sitting up straighter in her chair, and setting her notebook and pen in her lap, “I thought you would like to know that we received the background brief on the Northern Kingdoms from the Ardmorrans. I don’t know about you, but the political structure of the Northern Kingdom’s was always a little…” she paused, holding her hands up in the shape of a ball whose surface kept shifting amorphously as her fingers and hands moved, “…unintelligible.”

  Esther smiled. “To tell you the truth, I really didn’t pay that much attention to the Northern Kingdom’s history and political structure in school. They were too close to home to be of that much interest. Almost any information provided in the background brief will be useful.” Esther took a long drink of water from her cup, then looked back at Marigold. “So what did it say?”

  “Quite a bit, actually. The short version is that Ciel, Riaseth, and Lothaekin are three distinct nations that have an alliance, along with the smaller nation of Rodheim. They form a loose political unit known as the Northern Kingdoms. After its rebirth following the plagues, Ardmorr was—for a short time—part of this alliance, and is still known as one of the Northern Kingdom’s, but only because of geography, not political ties. As you know, Ardmorr became independent after only a short duration.”

  Marigold leaned back against her chair. “Each of the three big nations have veto power over anything the Northern Kingdoms decide to do,” she continued. “For the most part, the Northern Kingdoms are quite similar in culture and desire, so that veto power is rarely used. All of them have a degree of dislike for outsiders, but Riaseth has become even worse in the years since the Northern Kingdoms were at war with the Kamakuran Empire, and has even turned to prejudice and bigotry in some instances. Fortunately, those bigoted parties are in the minority, though their numbers are still significant and they have a lot of wealth and influence. However, Riaseth’s current ruler just happens to be one of the worst.”

  “That does not bode well for the future of our negotiations given my heritage,” said Esther.

  Marigold shook her head. “No, I’m afraid it doesn’t.” Marigold opened her mouth to say something else, but then closed it and paused for a moment. Esther looked at her questioningly and her friend finally shrugged. “I’ve been waiting to tell you this because I was dreading it, but—as you know, the Ardmorran Ambassador in the Northern Kingdoms will be assisting us in the upcoming negotiations in Valsgärd. Well, now Ardmorr wants to send another representative along to assist us and the Ambassador. In fact, they are waiting at the Naval Station right now. The request came in right before you were shot, so we haven’t answered them yet.”

  “That sounds like great news,” said Esther, a little surprised by her friend’s reluctance. “We can use all the help we can get.”

  “Yeah, well, I think you might change your mind when you find out who it is,” said Marigold, making a face.

  Esther raised a questioning eyebrow.

  “It’s Lady Adeline Ealdræd, the Duke of Manchester’s daughter.”

  “Oh boy,” said Esther, looking up at the ceiling above her, a mixture of frustration and dread filling her stomach. She looked back over at Marigold. “And you say that she’s waiting here at the Naval Station?”

  “Yes.” Marigold nodded. “She arrived with her luggage not long after the request came, but with everything that happened, the Ardmorrans have been waiting for us to get things sorted out first. They weren’t sure if we were still going. We weren’t even sure you were going to survive! But with the squadron preparing to get underway and all of our people that were still on the ground being brought back aboard ship, they’re going to be wondering. Oh, and your midwife, Mrs. Erika Stolman, arrived shortly before Adeline did and is also waiting for transport. Your husband thought you’d be more comfortable with an Ardmorran midwife and she came highly recommended.”

  Esther paused a moment, deep in thought. On the one hand, having the Lady Adeline on her side of the negotiation table would be a tremendous help in the discussions with the member states of the Northern Kingdoms, and although Adeline was a relatively junior member of Ardmorr’s Diplomatic Corp, she had more education and experience than many others far senior to her—Esther had firsthand experience with that. However, if she and Adeline experienced even a small part of the friction that they had during the Hadiqan-Ardmorran negotiations, the results
could be disastrous. Esther didn’t need an enemy in her own camp—she had enough of those as it was with the Hadiqan nobility.

  For a moment, Esther thought that perhaps the reason Adeline requested to come was to try and sabotage the talks, but she dismissed that idea almost immediately—that line of thought made no logical sense and could be extremely corrosive. She also couldn’t very well exclude Adeline and bring the midwife without offending quite a few Ardmorrans since they were both waiting at the Naval Station together.

  “Alright,” Esther said at last, “Signal our acceptance and hold the cutter groundside until she and the midwife are aboard. Hopefully she’s not like most nobles I know and can get moving quickly. I’d like to depart for Valsgärd as soon as possible. Oh, and invite her to the luncheon as well. It would be rude to exclude her if she gets here in time to join us.”

  Marigold nodded and stood. She stepped over to the bed and touched Esther’s shoulder. “I’m glad that you’re alright.”

  She patted Marigolds hand. “Me too,”

  “I’ll go and get this message sent, then I’ll make the arrangements for Adeline’s arrival. Mr. Najafi has already vacated the Captain’s cabin on the upper deck for her. She should be pretty comfortable there.”

  “Give Mr. Najafi my thanks,” said Esther.

  Marigold nodded. “I’ll be back to help you get ready for the luncheon when I finish.” She walked out of the bedchamber into the great cabin, then slipped out the door, leaving Esther alone.

  Chapter 20

  Duty

  When Marigold left, Esther laid her head back against the pillows that were propping her up and closed her eyes. She lay there for several minutes. Her energy was beginning to ebb and exhaustion was setting in. Being pregnant with twins and getting shot takes a lot out of a person, she thought with a smile.

  She wished she could just lie here and sleep, but with the escort captains and Lady Adeline arriving, she had to make sure that she looked her best for the meeting. That was the point of this whole luncheon—to show those who followed her that she was well and unwavering. It was going to be a hard act to put on because she also needed to rest and recover from her injuries, both for her and her babies’ sake. It was a fine balance.

  Geoffrey was right, she needed to be careful and take it easy. Sighing, she swung her legs over the side of the bed, wincing in pain. She placed a hand over the wound in her side and lowered her feet onto the cold wooden deck. She had never gotten used to wearing the slippers that most nobility wore and preferred to go barefoot. The callouses on the bottom of her feet caused by her years on the farm may not be very attractive, but that suited Esther just fine—she preferred function over form anyway. Although she didn’t mind the form in the least, either, as she looked about and appreciated the luxuriousness of the Retribution’s furnishings.

  She stood carefully—still holding her hand over the wound—and walked gently to her vanity. She looked at herself in the mirror and just stood there in her nightgown, staring at herself as if looking at a stranger. She looked so…young. Even with the changes pregnancy was making to her body, like the growing swell of her breasts revealed in the mirror by the traditional Hadiqan necklines that Marigold so adored, she looked too young to be leading these people and having to make these difficult decisions. Was she just a school-girl pretending to be a Queen? Was this all just a charade? She felt like theater curtains were going to be pulled back at any minute now to reveal people behind them, mocking her for seriously thinking that she was a Queen. Her confidence wavered.

  Esther shook herself in an attempt to rid her of these anxious feelings. She wasn’t going to let fear and doubt dissuade her from what she needed to do. She had met plenty of older, supposedly more experienced people in lofty positions make poor decisions and implement faulty policies. She hadn’t asked for this job—she hadn’t campaigned for this position—but she knew she could make worthwhile contributions, and using the wisdom and knowledge of those good people around her, she could become the queen whose role she was filling. When it came down to it, all of the great people in history were just people. They had made mistakes and failed at endeavors. What set them apart was their willingness to do hard things, do their duty, and see it through, even when doubt and hardship stood in their way.

  “Esther?”

  The unexpected voice made her jump and she inhaled sharply. “Marigold! You scared me half to death!”

  “Sorry,” Marigold said, reaching out with a steadying hand. “Are you alright? I saw you just standing there staring into the mirror with your eyes all glazed over.”

  Esther let out a relieved breath. “Yes,” she said, putting a hand to her chest and trying to calm her rapidly beating heart. “I was just thinking.”

  “Well next time, think in bed with your eyes closed. You scared me standing there staring off into space like that,” said Marigold, walking over to the wardrobe. “You know, my ancestors believed that if you stared at a mirror long enough, you could get lost it in forever.”

  Esther smiled. “I’d read that somewhere actually. I just didn’t take you for the superstitious type.”

  “I’m not,” said Marigold, turning her head to give Esther a bland look, “but you didn’t see the look in your eyes, either. You were seriously gone. I mean, not even on this ship, you were so far gone.” Marigold turned back to the open wardrobe, sifting through the different outfits.

  Esther laughed, then winced. “You shouldn’t make me laugh. It hurts.”

  “Well good,” Marigold chucked, “Maybe that’ll teach you to not to go out and almost get yourself killed.”

  “Yes ma’am,” replied Esther in mock obeisance.

  Marigold turned to Esther again and rolled her eyes. “Why doesn’t Your Majesty wash up while I find you something to wear?”

  Esther smiled and took the big pitcher of water and poured some into the wash basin. The water steamed in the chill air—it must have been near boiling when Mac brought it in earlier. Esther grabbed a wash cloth and dipped it into the warm water.

  “By the way,” said Marigold, “Lady Adeline’s cutter will be arriving soon.”

  Esther looked over at Marigold with a raised eyebrow. “I’m surprised that she was able to ready to go so quickly,” she said, leaning over the wash basin as she washed her face, neck, and chest. “Or maybe the invitation to the luncheon motivated her to hurry.”

  Esther rinsed and wrung out the cloth, then hung it up and turned to look at Marigold. Her friend was holding up a burgundy Ardmorran style dress with long sleeves and a golden pattern climbing up the front to a high-collared neck. Esther smiled and nodded. Marigold always did seem to pick out the perfect outfit befitting her moods.

  - - -

  Esther stepped into the great cabin where her escort captain’s, their guests, and Lady Adeline were seated around the table. They stood as she entered and she quickly gestured for them to take their seats. She looked around the room at everyone there and was pleased to see that the escort captain’s hadn’t just brought their senior officers—instead, their guests were midshipmen, or junior lieutenants. Esther hadn’t requested them to, but she was glad they had brought their junior officers. Having them see her healthy and undeterred would go farther when they went back and told the rest of their crews than if that same news came from the Captain or the XO. That’s why she had Mr. Najafi invite one of her own airmen and a junior officer. Esther let her gaze continue around the room, resisting the temptation to let it linger on Adeline. She did note a strange look in Adeline’s eye that disappeared quickly behind a blank stare. It hadn’t seemed hostile, but Esther didn’t recognize it and she wondered what it meant. Well, there wasn’t time to ponder that just now.

  “Thank you all for coming on such short notice,” she said, stepping up behind her high-backed hair and placing her hands lightly on its back. “And a special warm welcome to Lady Adeline Ealdræd of Manchester.”

  Adeline nodded, her face unreadable. E
sther noted that Adeline looked as beautiful as ever, and felt pale in comparison. One would never know from her appearance how she must have rushed to make it aboard the Retribution in time to attend the luncheon. Esther felt the now familiar twinge of doubt that she got whenever she was with Adeline and again realized that she was intimidated by the young woman. Adeline was beautiful, educated, confident—basically everything that Esther desired to be—but Esther pushed those feelings and her self-doubts away. She had a job to do and she couldn’t do it if she allowed herself to feel intimidated.

  - - -

  “…and a special warm welcome to Lady Adeline Ealdræd of Manchester,” the Queen was saying, but it was difficult for Lieutenant (Junior Grade) Yima Kshaeta to concentrate. It had been an honor to serve aboard one of the Queen’s escort ships, but he had never been aboard the Queen’s ship—the Retribution—itself, and of course, had never actually met the Queen in person before. To be given such an honor—and in such an intimate setting—was a bit overwhelming. The Retribution was a beautiful ship. Fast, deadly, and gilded with an ornateness that in no way diminished her deadly purpose. If anything, the carefully applied luxury accentuated the frigates dangerous nature, like the gleam of predator’s razor sharp claws. But in Yima’s eyes, the ship paled in comparison to its Master. Although Commander Najafi was technically the ships master on paper, no one in this room could doubt that Queen Esther was its true master, and she quite literally shined as the bright beams of the midday sun streamed through the large windows that made up the rear wall of the great cabin, warming the cool December air, and glinting off the golden crown perched lightly on her head.

  Her face was young—she was a full four years younger than Yima—but displayed a confidence and assurance of someone many years her senior, and she seemed to glow with a radiance equal to the sun’s reflection off of her golden crown. The way she moved was so graceful, he doubted that she had ever made a misstep, or tripped—and there was a deadliness to that grace as well, emphasized by the large Madrausan competition dagger belted around her slim waist.