Isovel was acting peculiar, too. She had blazed with excitement when he mentioned Moresco’s visit, and he’d hoped she was for once showing an intelligent curiosity about the course of the war; then when he explained how he’d sent the fellow about his business, she seemed to lose interest all at once. Naturally, he couldn’t tell her about their agreement; women always talked, they couldn’t help it.
He would have to make sure she was well out of the way at Black Rocks. Women were a confounded nuisance to an army on the march; the sooner she was back in his quarters in Colony City, where she belonged, the happier he’d be. And this time she wasn’t going to have access to a flitter.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Governor’s Mansion, Colony City, Esilia: four months later
Gabrel looked appreciatively at the linen-fold wood paneling and the collection of Esilian paintings hung just above the paneling. Stark desert scenes in red and ochre, with sharp purple shadows, alternated with artists’ conceptions of the mountains. True, most of the latter showed that very few artists bothered to actually go to the mountains; they showed gently rolling hills rising to a distant horizon rather than jagged peaks and stony valleys from which you never saw the horizon. But there was one small painting of a girl with a doat on a string, in front of a low-ceilinged stone house, that showed some actual feeling for the land.
“Governor Aberforss was a connoisseur of your native art,” the uniformed man on the other side of the table informed Gabrel. He was flanked by other officers, but none of them seemed willing to venture on conversation. “Fortunately, the staff never got around to implementing Governor Serman’s orders to have all these pictures stored in the attic or, better, sold. It would be a pity to break up the collection, would it not?”
“Indeed.” Although if the Harmonicas did sell off the paintings, Gabrel just might put in a bid for that smallish one.
He saw that General Dayvson had acquired several new decorations since they last met. Evidently the Battle of Black Rocks had burnished his reputation. And yet, and yet… He and Colonel Travis and two other officers were here to discuss the terms on which Harmony would consent to withdraw troops and recognize the nation of Esilia. So that one victory hadn’t been enough to stem the anti-war sentiment in Harmony.
“And how is your political officer doing?” Colonel Travis asked. “Given his role in establishing communications, I had thought to see him here.”
The general frowned. “Recalled to Harmony City. The Committee felt he had overstepped his privilege. Discord, I felt Andrus had overstepped his privilege, but I wasn’t about to send him home for doing something that worked. He got my daughter back and negotiated the terms that led to our victory at Black Rocks. I owe him.
“This is his replacement, Kolin Shiflet.” Dayvson indicated the one un-decorated man on his side of the table and closed his mouth with a definite air of wanting to say more than was advisable in a room about to be connected with the Central Committee.
That killed that line of conversation. But there wasn’t much for any of them to do until the connection with Harmony went live. The silence was uncomfortable, and Dayvson had already ordered kahve for everyone. Gabrel racked his brains for some kind of neutral small talk and was relieved when Dayvson started a new topic.
“How is your second – Patrik, wasn’t it?” he asked Gabrel. “A most impressive young man. Of course, all of your people were a great help; your taking out Karamanlis’ men from their rear distracted and slowed them enough for us to whip green troops back into formation. But Patrik was…”
“Impressive? Impressively foolhardy?” Gabrel suggested. Patrik had been an idiot, exposing himself time after time to kill or harass the enemy guerrillas. “One of the Karamanlis gang sliced his belly open. Fortunately, the gut wasn’t pierced; he’s been making a long convalescence in the hills.” He had also been the subject of several epic songs and the object of the village girls’ adoration; Gabrel might never be able to punish him appropriately for risking his life so casually. “And your aide-de-camp? Kamron, wasn’t it?”
“Secretary,” Dayvson corrected him. “Discording fool, he was supposed to take shelter with the other noncombatants. But he’d seen those pictures… He picked up a blaster from a fallen grunt and went wide to stop some men who were trying to sneak upriver to flank us. Of course he couldn’t do it, he’d had next to no military training, it wasn’t a job for one man. But his action alerted us to the threat. He received several awards.” Dayvson cleared his throat. “Posthumously.”
The screen on the right-hand wall flickered with light and Dayvson cleared his throat again. “Well, here we go. I’ve been studying treaties from ancient wars- “
“Captain Moresco and Lieutenant Renzi have been researching the same subject.” Colonel Travis told him. “I suppose we’ll just have to make it up as we go along.”
Dayvson nodded. “Much as we fought the war. Do you know, I’m getting tired of being thrown feet-first into ‘learning experiences.’ It’ll be a relief to go back to telling students to examine the root causes and long-term results of the Gallic Wars.”
Several hours and half a gallon of black kahve later, the screen showing the Central Committee flickered off and the men sitting around the table stretched. After a moment of silence Dayvson volunteered, “Well, we have reached consensus on some issues.”
“Yes. The time for the next meeting.” Colonel Travis yawned. Gabrel clamped his mouth shut to keep from doing the same.
“An indefinite cease-fire. Repatriation of prisoners. Governor Serman to be replaced.” Dayvson was determinedly cheerful.
“Don’t count that last among your consensus items. We didn’t ask for Serman to be replaced.”
“You asked for him to be removed. Same thing.”
“No. We will not accept another governor from Harmony.”
“Oh, come now. This colony doesn’t run itself. You need somebody at the top to provide governance and to represent you to Harmony.”
Travis sighed. “We will – well, I don’t feel the need to explain the details of our plan for self-government. All we really want is for Harmony to recognize us as an independent country – and to get out of the way.”
The political officer sneered. “Dreams! You need to accept that Harmony will never grant you independence, and start bargaining for what you can actually get.”
“If you people don’t grant us independence, we’ll take it. And your time is limited. I’m not sure how long I can hold back my victorious forces from attacking Colony City.”
The meeting broke up among snarls of acrimony.
“Not very hopeful,” said Gabrel as he and the colonel strolled towards the sweeping marble stairs, trailed by Renzi and the colonel’s aide-de-camp. Dayvson and the political had availed themselves of the elevator.
Travis bared his teeth. “On the contrary. They’re already squabbling amongst themselves. By next time factions will have developed – But we shouldn’t discuss my plans here. And don’t you have something else to do?”
Gabrel nodded acquiescence and slipped away from the other three, melting into the shadows of the statuary that lined the hall.
“Captain Moresco?” Travis repeated when General Dayvson met him at the foot of the stairs. “I believe he went in search of your, ah, facilities. He drank a lot of kahve during the meeting.”
“That shouldn’t take long.”
“Perhaps he lost his way, not being accustomed to such a spacious and elegant house. Very few Esilians visited here during Wilyam Serman’s term of office.” Colonel Travis glanced at his wrist chrono. “Rather a scatter-brained young man. I can’t wait for him; I’m due at our own headquarters in a few minutes. If you find him wandering around, please direct him to the door and tell him I said to take a commercial flitter back.”
Gabrel slipped quietly through the shadowed rooms on the rest of the top floor, trapping inconspicuous metallic burrs in draperies or on the backs of upholstered chairs.
With only a few minutes in hand, he didn’t take the time to decide which rooms, aside from the meeting room – where he had already left his little gifts – would be the most use to bug.
He did pause on opening the door to a bedroom lined with pale green draperies. A glint of gold sparkled at the folds of the curtains. He took a deep breath of the air. Essence of Isovel – but she wasn’t there.
Time to go downstairs.
***
Seated in the small windowed room on the ground floor, Isovel had left the door ajar so that she could catch a glimpse of the Esilian negotiating party when they came down the grand marble stairs. A shadow fell across the floor just outside the open door and she caught her breath. But it was only one of the native servants.
“You have a caller, Miss Isovel. Shall I stay while you receive him?”
“No! I mean – that’s not necessary, Shila. He’s an old friend. Just show him in.” Her heart was beating ridiculously fast. I will come for you. Except he hadn’t done that when he made that dangerous visit to her father to propose a combined operation; he hadn’t even spoken to her. She shouldn’t get her hopes up now. Especially since –
Her caller was Jonny Kelso, and he closed the door behind him. She looked him over. He was, naturally, just as tall as ever, with those blue eyes glowing under the thick yellow hair that the military had forced him to keep far too short. It wasn’t too short now; he’d let it grow out and someone had coaxed its natural curl into a becoming slanted line across his forehead. His civilian clothes were also becoming; well fitted without being tight, they showed off his broad shoulders and muscular arms.
Six months ago she’d probably have been fanning herself at the mere sight. Now she concealed her disappointment and greeted him politely. But as an old acquaintance. Not as the love of her life.
He looked – relieved? at her cool, civil greeting. What was going on there? And how was she going to break the news to him that their brief, mad affair was over? I knew this was coming. I should have made plans. But like an idiot, she’d been mooning over Gabrel.
“I, um, just got demobbed,” Jonny said awkwardly.
“Your hair certainly grew fast.” You didn’t go from buzz cut to carefully combed dark gold curls in a day. Or a week for that matter.
“Yes, well, ain’t just so easy to get to see you. What with you living in the Governor’s mansion and all. Now that I don’t work here.”
But today he’d just walked in and announced himself, hadn’t he? What was he not saying?
“I’m glad to see you’re all right,” she said finally. Not that I ever bothered to make sure. I am pond scum. “I was afraid those rebels might have hurt you.”
Jonny’s perfectly shaped lips curved. “Only my dignity. I was more afraid for you. ‘T’was a great day when I heard you’d escaped the rebels.”
She hadn’t exactly escaped. She’d been traded. Which didn’t do a lot for her dignity, so she should be grateful that the newsers had broadcast an account of her kidnapping and return that was, well, a very pretty fiction.
“Well.” The need to break up with him was a very large Awkwardness sitting in the middle of this small room. For some reason she visualized it as a huge ostrich. With bad breath. “How – how have you been?”
A crooked smile. “Your dad was not best pleased that I’d allowed you to be captured.”
“It wasn’t exactly your fault.”
“He didn’t see’t that way. D’you know, he had a stockade built just for me ‘n my buddies?”
“No! Is that where you’ve been all this time?”
“Nah, he cooled down after he got through all the planning t’invade the mountains. Found us some work to do here. Told us t’report to Lieutenant Nusom. Dunno what he did to piss your dad off, but he’s in charge of maintaining the city sewage system. All of us coming from Harmony strained the system some, y’know. Lots of blockages t’clear.”
“Oh. Ugh. Jonny, I’m so sorry!”
“Nah, somebody had t’do it. And I met some real nice folks, civilians y’know? This girl – Tiffni – she worked in her dad’s food truck, right opposite Lieutenant Nusom’s office. Used to give us end-of-day leftovers. And she was some cook!” Jonny’s accent wasn’t so thick now that he was thinking more about his story than about his exalted surroundings. “Real nice girl. Didn’t hate us like a lot of the natives. We used to talk, some, about the war. She understood I didn’t have no choice, had to go where the draft sent me. And she taught me a lot about Esilia.”
Footsteps on the marble stairs outside; a confusion of masculine voices making “goodbye” noises. Isovel was listening so hard, she barely realized when Jonny stopped talking.
“Oh!” He’d been saying nice things about this Tiffni, hadn’t he? “Should I call on her and thank her for helping you through a difficult time?”
“No!” Jonny swallowed. “She, uh, doesn’t know about you. We just told her we was on punishment detail for being drunk on duty.”
A beautiful thought spread through Isovel’s mind. “Jonny. Did you come here to break up with me?”
“Gentleman doesn’t do that to a lady. Just though you sh’d know…” The sentence died in his throat while he stared at the draperies over her head.
“Know what?” Isovel prodded gently when it seemed he was at a complete standstill.
It came out in an unhappy rush. “I’d ruther be with Tiffni than with you.”
Isovel tried not to laugh. Evidently her expression made Jonny think she was trying to hold back tears. “Isovel, don’t cry! I didn’t want t’hurt you. You knew we couldn’t last – a grunt and the general’s daughter? Now Tiffni, her dad doesn’t mind me. He said if I stay after the war, he’ll take me into the business, he’s been wanting to expand to two food trucks…”
“It sounds like an opportunity you should definitely seize, Jonny. Don’t feel bad for me; I’ll go back to Harmony, you know, and I’ll always remember our time together as a pleasant dream.” Apart from the last night, which had been more of a nightmare. “I wish you and Tiffni all the best. Ah, we don’t yet know the terms of the peace treaty. If we grant Esilia independence, can you legally stay here, or will you need some help with the formalities?”
Jonny turned red. “Tiffni’s dad says they’re sure to get independence. And he says Esilia always welcomes new settlers, and they’ve been taking in a lot of deserters anyway.”
The footsteps and voices outside the room had ceased, and no one had tapped at the door. Isovel’s heart sank. But she mustn’t show that to Jonny; he would think she was grieving over losing him. She put on her brilliant society smile. “Then all you need from me is my best wishes to you and Tiffni, which you already have.” Go away and let me be miserable in private.
“Are you sure you’ll be all right, Izzy?”
Another bright smile. “Oh, you know how shallow I am. I declare, I quite lost my heart to a dashing rebel officer in the mountains!”
Jonny snorted. “As if you of all people would fall for a rebel! I expect he was just an amusement while you was sitting around being a bored hostage.”
“I expect so.” No, I was an amusement for him. “Goodbye, Jonny.”
“Goodbye, Izzy.”
She waited until the sound of his boots had faded away before sinking down on a sofa, hands clenched. Because she was not going to cry over a man who hadn’t even bothered to show up to break with her. Who had forgotten his promise to come for her. Who –
“Izzy. I like that. It sounds so much more approachable than Isovel. I think I’ll call you Izzy from now on.”
She jumped up and whirled towards the mocking voice. Gabrel Moresco was standing beside a long ruffled curtain that was still moving slightly. “How did you get in here?”
“Walked in,” Gabrel said. “You two seemed somewhat preoccupied; I didn’t want to disturb anything.”
“But Shila should have announced you!”
“Shila? Would that be the pretty little
girl who flutters around your front hall? I think she was distracted by all the other officers leaving. Especially Renzi. You know, that’s just what he needs, a nice, pliable little girl who will think everything he says is brilliant.”
“Indeed? I wouldn’t know.”
“No, that wouldn’t have occurred to you. Seeing that you are not nice.” He took a step towards her. “Or pliable.” Another step. “Or particularly little.” He closed the distance between them and took her in his arms. “What a good thing that I’m susceptible to sarcastic women who are as tall as I am. Of course, it helps if they’re beautiful. And have a cloud of fair hair that tends to come down when they’re agitated.”
Isovel felt the hair falling around her face as he spoke. And one of his hands was moving close to her head. “Cheater. I am not agitated. You’re taking my hairpins out!”
“As you told me once -that’s not what your pulse says,” Gabrel murmured. “Admit it. You’re happy to see me come courting you.”
Isovel brought up her own hands and pushed lightly against his chest. Immediately he let her go and moved back a step.
And she was not disappointed that he let her go so easily. It was all of a piece with his earlier behavior. Which she could bring to mind more clearly now that he was not actually touching her.
“What, your idea of courting is to drop in on a girl every few months to build up your ego?”
Gabrel looked wounded. “I have been busy with a few other matters. Encouraging Harmony to give up on an expensive and divisive war. Helping Colonel Travis with his plans to make a nation out of a colony. Do you realize we have no administrative structure of our own? Everything was run by bureaucrats imported from Harmony.”
Isovel sat back down. “I see. Aren’t you being a touch premature? Peace negotiations only began this morning.”
“We’ll get our independence.”
“You sound as confident as Tiffni’s father.”
“I – who?”
So he hadn’t been listening to the whole conversation. Just the last few sentences. “Soon to be Jonny’s father-in-law, I imagine. And future food truck king of Colony City.”
Insurgents (Harmony Book 1) Page 18