Ignorance would be welcome, but she knew she would not be able to accept that. She would ask her father what had happened in the meeting, and she would analyse what he told her. He would probably want to take her to weapons training afterwards as well.
She looked up uncomfortably, noticing that the guard was looking at her awkwardly. She flashed him her most brainless smile and he looked away sharply. She wondered if he had been admiring her.... or simply checking she was all right. It was becoming harder to remain in one personality for long now. Perhaps she had been doing something a proper lady was not meant to do, like sitting tensed, ready for an attack.
She sighed in what she hoped was a suitably melodramatic fashion and turned away from the guard. She was waiting in the reception room outside the Council Chamber, and there was nothing here. She could have spent the few hours of the meeting with some young ladies of her own age, acquaintances with whom she had shared many pointless hours of idle gossip, but she could not face that now. She was half–afraid she would let her mask slip.
She started as a figure suddenly appeared in the corner, and instinctively slid her wrist dagger into her hand. Then she blinked, and recognised him.
"That will not be necessary," said the Minbari.
He intrigued her, but he also scared her enormously. The Emperor's Minbari companion - his exact status was largely unknown - had attracted a great deal of attention among the Court. He rarely said anything, did anything or talked to anyone. He merely waited and watched, dealing with the occasional potential assassin that was part and parcel of Court life with brutal efficiency. Her friends had once persuaded her to ask her father about him, but all the Lord–General had said was his name, 'Lennier'.
The shadows seemed to part around him as he stepped forward. She flicked a quick glance at the guard, who was resolutely looking away. Evidently Lennier troubled him as much as he did her.
"I would have thought you would have been with the Council, good sir," she said hesitantly. She had never been this close to him before. She had never even heard him speak before.
"I was," he said. His voice was strange. He was speaking Centauri flawlessly, but with a harsh accent, as though something grated in his throat. Every so often there came an unusual pause in the middle of a word, and a visible wince. "I left. I have a message for you."
"From my father?" she said. She did not know who else would want to give her a message. Perhaps the meeting was going on for longer than he had expected.
"No. There is.... something that speaks to me. It tries to command me, but I do not let it. Sometimes, though.... it says things that are useful. It has a warning for you. Someone is coming who will try to kill you."
"What?" she said. The word came out a little garbled - half an anguished 'What? Who would want to kill me, you must have the wrong person' fluttering of eyelashes, and half a 'How are they going to do that? Do you know when? How did you know this?' clinical acceptance of the warning and a request for more information.
"But why?" she settled on, after a pause. "Why would anyone want to...?"
"To get to your father. To provoke him to make a mistake. I have warned you, lady. Take whatever precautions you think necessary, but do not tell anyone of this, especially not your father."
"But why? And what about...?" She looked at the guard. There was a flicker of a smile on Lennier's face.
"He has not heard us. He has not even seen me." Then he turned, moved back to the corner, and all of a sudden was simply not there.
Lyndisty trembled a little, and checked her weapons. All of them. The two daggers hidden up each sleeve, one in each slipper, a garroting wire fixed into an innocuous necklace and a poison capsule in a ring. They were all there, most of them newly insisted upon by her father after the incident with the outlaws.
She should be safe from most assailants, but somehow.... she did not feel comforted by that. In fact, quite the reverse.
Ten minutes later the meeting ended and her father came out, his face dark. He still offered to take her shopping, but she found herself not in the mood, not at all.
* * *
Blood.... blood was life. A circle. Life began in blood, and ended in it. Always it had been a symbol for change, for beginnings and endings....
For power.
Blood.... blood and fire.
The shadows danced in the flickering light cast by the few flames that were burning. A small fire at the moment, but one that would rise up again, greater and greater, rising to an inferno that would sweep the world, and then the Republic, and then the galaxy.
Once that fire had raged almost unchecked. Selini alone of the homeworld had escaped its power. The Dark Masters had seeded tools on the homeworld, instruments that had caused madness, insanity, massacres. They did this simply by showing the truth. First they had overseen the deaths of all those who could see - the prophetesses, the Imperial Seers, the telepaths and oracles. All fell, by one means or another. Then the madness had begun.
But it had ended. First a gradual ebb, a natural thing, then through the enforcement of the new law, the new order. Finally the seeds had been destroyed. The ancient enemies of the Dark Masters had sent an agent here, and he had seen that all the seeds were destroyed.
Centauri Prime could not be re–seeded. There was not enough time. The Dark Masters needed a new place in which to hide, a place they could hope to use for their salvation when they lost their homeworld, as they now surely would. But if they could not even salvage that, then Centauri Prime would have another purpose, a deeper and darker purpose.
It would be a part of their legacy, a warning, a planet of ash and spent flames.
Oh, yes.... and of blood.
It dripped slowly on to the flower. The thing within the flower stirred, its form raised to monstrous proportions through the dancing lights and shadows. Each successive drop reflected its shape, clearer with each one, more precise, larger.
Lord Kiro felt no pain, not now. The blood he fed it was his and his alone. Soon it would awake.
And then the fires would begin anew. This time, they would never be put out.
* * *
Morden looked up at the sky and found himself imagining a dark cloud falling over it. Two clouds in fact, one rising from the ground, the result of a million fires, and the other coming from the heavens, dark ships screaming.
Even without that particular image the sky was dark and grey. He could still taste smoke in it. It had been over a year since Londo had ascended to the throne and the fires had been put out, but a legacy remained. No matter how faint, it was an unsettling thought. He had less time than he had been expecting.
One of theirs was here, a Shadow minion, a powerful one too. It was sleeping still, but would be awake soon. Morden knew what it was, and what it was capable of. When it did awake.... the fires would start up again, the skies would become black, the ground would become a wasted desert, and the people mindless lunatics.
And all that just to create a place of refuge. The Shadows knew they were losing and they needed a place to hide, a place to seed with their legacy so that they might arise again. Centauri Prime was perfect for them, or it would be. Uninhabited planets would suffice, but an inhabited planet was so much better, so many people to harvest and.... adapt.
A nasty thought. A nasty image at that, but one he could prevent from becoming reality. He could.... sense the Shadow's minion. Its mind was sending out tendrils of thought and fear, tendrils he could perceive and track. At this stage it was vulnerable, and could be killed easily. Everything would be fine.
But that was contrary to his orders. His instructions were very clear, with no room for ambiguity. The Centauri had been given more than one chance to redeem themselves, far too many chances in fact. It was time for them to learn precisely the stakes they were playing for. Centauri Prime would find salvation, or it would burn. There would be no middle ground.
Which was in some ways a pity. Morden liked this planet, and even some of the
people living on it. If things went.... right, then he might well ask to be posted here permanently.
There was a noise to his side and he turned, smiling. There were some people here he liked, but few more than the man standing before him, the man to whom he owed so much.
"Nice to see you," Morden said, still smiling. "I trust everything's been arranged."
"Oh, yes.... Londo, I mean.... the Emperor.... his Majesty will be in his private study for the rest of the day. No one else is there, not even his bodyguard. For some reason he's.... been sent away. I don't really know why myself, but there it is. The guards.... I could have them sent away too, or bring you in as a guest, perhaps...."
"No, that's not necessary. That would only reveal to the Emperor our.... relationship. We don't need to do that before it's too late. The guards.... won't see me."
"You'll become invisible?"
"No, they just won't notice me. Their eyes will slide right off me. It's a little trick I learned some time ago. The trouble is it'll give me a splitting headache by tonight, but, well...."
"Will you.... ah.... need arrangements for getting off the planet in a hurry? Again?"
Morden smiled. Two frantic escapes from Centauri Prime in the last few years, and neither of them accomplished just through his own skill and brilliance. "No, not this time. This time I'm here until the end, for good or ill."
"Oh, dear. Are things really going to be that bad?"
Morden looked at Minister Vir Cotto and sighed. He believed. He really believed. If all men were such as he, Morden would have a very easy life. "I hope not," he said. "But you can never be too sure.
"Now, I believe the Emperor is not expecting me...."
* * *
G'Kar debated again his only options and found himself uncomfortable with just how few they were. Time was growing short. Very short. Oh, there was peace at the moment, but the moment was all. Soon things would erupt again, and this time.... this time....
He supposed he could have done something about the situation by now, but there had always been something else. Two–and–a–half years, it had been. Two–and–a–half years since the second Narn / Centauri War had begun.
And what had he been doing in that time? He had abandoned political power for the burden of a greater destiny. He had believed that as a preacher he could have greater influence than as a politician, bringing change from within, bringing the idea of change to his whole people rather than a tiny proportion.
Maybe he had been right.... then. But now.... now he was a politician, and he was starting to wonder if his original choice had been the correct one. His people had taken his teachings on board, but they had perverted them, badly misinterpreting the message. He had wanted to speak of understanding, of alliances between races and peoples, of all becoming one to fight against a mutual enemy.
And now that message of understanding had been turned into a doctrine of conquest. Oh, the Narns would still fight the Shadows, but they would lead the war. First they would rule the galaxy, and then they would go on to the greater war. Foolishness, and a dark and bitter destiny that would bring them.
"Are you sure about this?" asked a soft voice from across the table. That voice brought him no comfort. It had been months since he had received word that Delenn was still alive, and a few weeks since she had returned to Kazomi 7 to take up again the burden of leadership, the duty of leading the Alliance she had helped create.
Every moment of those few weeks had been spent planning, preparing, readying. The commissioning of the shipyards at Krindar, constant liaisons with General Sheridan at Proxima, preparing for the induction of humanity in the Alliance, dealing with the Drazi growing more and more aggressive with every passing day, hunting down Shadow agents on the planet, trying to grasp some understanding of the Vorlons....
And above all, working with the Kha'Ri for the next phase of their war with the Centauri.
That was what burned G'Kar, that more than anything else. The war had been quiet for months, a bloody stalemate. The Kha'Ri now had evidence of a Centauri alliance with the Shadows, and had used that to force aid from the Alliance. The races were too evenly matched - the assistance of the Shadows gave the Centauri a clear advantage, but with the Alliance, with the Dark Stars, the Narns would regain prominence and would be able to push their war back to Centauri Prime, and this time they would not be driven back.
A jihad, a holy war, being fought in his name.
"Yes," he told Delenn. He was sure. This had to be avoided. The Shadows must be driven away, yes, must be destroyed, yes.... but at what cost? This was only doing their task for them. They only benefited from the Narns and the Centauri tearing each other apart.
"I have waited too long," he said again. "Afraid to confront my own errors. But now there is no time for fear, and no more time to wait." And there wasn't. The final stage of the plan for the renewed invasion of Centauri space had been sent to the Alliance Council from the Kha'Ri, passed through Ambassador G'Kael and his assistant Na'Toth. Both were loyal to G'Kar and had informed him early. They had also promised to delay presenting the plans as long as they could.
For long enough to enable him to do what he must.
G'Kar had seen the plans. Almost every ship the Narn people could spare, backed by a full squadron of Dark Stars and support from the Drazi and Brakiri. Ambassador Lethke had protested against his involvement with this - like G'Kar, he knew Londo too well to believe most of the stories - but he had been overruled. The Vorlon had overruled him.
"The war will soon be over," G'Kar whispered. Today, tomorrow, in a few months, it would soon be over. "But what will the peace bring?"
"It will bring what we make of it, surely," Delenn said.
"So there will still be no rest." G'Kar shook his head and rose from his chair. "I have missed you, Delenn, those long months you were gone." She had not explained what had happened to cause her to leave Kazomi 7 when she did, but there had been no need. Sinoval had explained to him and Londo. If Delenn did not give credence to his beliefs, then....
No, that was an issue for the peace, not the war.
And surely a peace bought with terror and lies was better than a war caused by anger and truth?
He had believed that once.
"I am glad you have returned to us, Delenn. I wish we had more time together."
"As do I, but we will see each other again, G'Kar."
"Will we? I wish I had your faith. Sometimes I think.... a dark cloud is putting out the lights across the galaxy. There are very few left shining now."
"The war will soon be over."
"That was not what I was referring to." He shivered.
He wished he could have had more time to talk, but as ever in his life, there was no time. His shuttle was leaving soon. He had a long journey to make.
* * *
"I doubt very much that I am welcome here, Majesty, or may I just use 'Londo'? That does not matter. I am here with a message and a warning.
"Yes, I vanished last time. Again. You really do not want to know why, nor do you need to. Suffice it to say I was fleeing from some enemies.
"These are the facts, Majesty. Someone in this Court is allied with the Shadows. Personally, I do not believe it is you, but what I believe matters very little. The Alliance is aware of this, and they are preparing a fleet, a massive hammer–blow to shatter and ruin what remains of your Republic. That will of course be a mercy if the Shadows achieve their wish for this planet first.
"The last time I was here I made you an offer. I came to you in a spirit of co–operation, of equality, in spite of the numerous favours you owed us. Or have you forgotten the help we offered you when you were just a wanderer?
"This time I am making no offers, no bargains, no alliances. I am here, and you know whom I represent. Do as we demand or we will leave you to the Alliance and to the Enemy. Give us the power to remove the Shadows from this world, and those who have invited them here. Give us what we want, and all will be well. R
efuse....
"Majesty, I like this world. I really do not want to see it collapse into fire and shadow. That does not mean I won't."
Morden later realised he had never seen anyone so angry as Emperor Londo Mollari was at that precise moment. Nor had he seen anyone so adept at hiding it.
* * *
Lord–General Marrago knew many wise sayings, each one accumulated as part of the debris that encrusts a soldier's life. One of them, the one he bore in mind now, was always to solve your problems one at a time. He tried to remember that as he walked through the long corridors of the palace for a meeting with his Emperor.
The Shadows. The Enemy. He still owed them a favour. Just the one, but one was more than enough. The payment of the first had nearly killed his daughter - what would the second cost him? And with every day that passed the darkness over Centauri Prime grew.
But without the Shadows, what hope was there? The Narns would attack, backed up by the Alliance, and Centauri Prime would fall. The Shadows might be able to stop that. The Narns were a problem for today, the Shadows for tomorrow.
But what sort of tomorrow? What would he leave his daughter and her children yet to be?
He was ushered into Londo's private audience chamber, a room he was growing depressingly familiar with. Countless meetings over the last few months, each one aimed at preventing the inevitable firestorm, at preparing planetary defences, at seeking some peaceful solution, at anything and everything, with nothing the only result.
To his surprise there was no one else waiting for him. Just Londo. Marrago's keen dark eyes picked out the shadowy form of Londo's strange Minbari companion, but that was it. No Durano, no Cotto, no Lady Consort.
A Dark, Distorted Mirror. Volume 4. A Future, Born in Pain addm-4 Page 62