by Stephen Hunt
‘I do not speak of hearts here, Duncan. I am still cursed with the blushing fire of a woman’s youth. I have seen how these matters run many times at the court. Old men take young brides to continue a proud family’s line, but spend more time with their estate’s ledgers and the stable’s hunting hounds. Those young brides eventually end up pushing around their husbands in a wooden nursing chair. I do not begrudge Benner this. I went into our union with open eyes. It is almost the natural order of events. I love him and will look after him until the bitter end. But I care for Benner too much to cuckold him with one of the park’s staff. You may not want the house, but it is still your duty to step in as the heir where he falters. I have given you my support in everything, now it is time to seal the union with more than fine words.’
‘I am not certain, this—’
‘This only tells me how wisely I have chosen. Soon enough you’ll be laying siege to Midsburg alongside Benner and Willow’s husband, Lord Wallingbeck, alongside almost everyone in Arcadia I have ever known or cared about. Who is to say which of you will return, or how badly injured? I am a full cup which Benner does not wish to drink. We’re both alive now. Let us live … you deserve this too.’
Those words sounded uncannily like Helrena’s, remade as a command, and Duncan felt the truth of them as Leyla tore at his clothes and he gave up trying to hold on to his own self-control, pushing her down against a divan and drinking from her glass until he had to clamp a hand around her mouth to still her cries. She’s right. I do deserve this. Duncan had set aside the house of his birth, but it seemed it still had duties to tire him. Such delicious ones.
All across the warship’s hangar were engineers checking helo engines and cannons, blades suspended above the fighters’ fuselage hanging still and quiet as ground crew drove silent electric wagons between the aircraft, long trails of trolleys winding behind them, loaded with grey-metal bombs and rockets, warheads painted with concentric yellow circles like the angry warning stripes on a bee.
Regimental standards hung from the walls, triangular tapestries on ornamental silver staffs; partially obscured by crates of supplies covered in black netting, officers in green uniforms with stiff, high collars, supervising lines of sailors passing the materials of war in chains towards the helos. Squatting amongst this organized chaos was the long-range patrol ship to be used to land in the forests outside Midsburg. Not for the first time, Duncan wished he would be going with Paetro’s legionaries to rescue Cassandra. I’ll have to trust Willow, he sighed. And look how well that worked the last time you put your life in her hands, mocked the malicious voice inside his mind. Unlike the other military craft crowding the hangar, the patrol ship was being stripped down by its engineers, everything heavy that could be removed ending up in a heap alongside the long steel-hulled dart. They were planning a night flight and stealth, the faster the better. Everything after that would be in the hand of the saints – and the loyal old fighter checking a line of guns on a folding table. These were tools of the legions’ trade, not the primitive single-shot rifles procured from Gidorian merchants as their ticket of entry into the enemy city. Duncan drew closer. A legionary was demonstrating the hidden compartment they had added to a trader’s cart, for concealing the deadly Vandian weapons until they had infiltrated Midsburg. Each gun had something resembling a large metal can screwed to the end of the barrel, to silence the gun’s otherwise explosive fire.
‘Are these those famous weapons the legionaries carry?’
Paetro quietened the other soldier with a wave of his hand and turned to Duncan. ‘They’re still under lock and key, lad. The imperial armourers travel with the fleet and they’re always picky about when and where they release the emperor’s bounty. This one’s designed by Doctor Horvak, though …’ He passed a bulky hand weapon to Duncan, a weighty pistol with a magazine jutting from a smooth steel handle; its black barrel flared and slashed with vents. ‘It has the range of a rifle. Each shell is powered by a rocket and explodes with a grenade’s force. Keep it for luck.’
Duncan took the gun. ‘Doesn’t seem like a fair fight.’
‘That’s my favourite sort – as long as the odds weigh heavy in my favour. I know this isn’t what you wanted, lad.’
Duncan understood Paetro wasn’t talking about the raid to free Lady Cassandra or Willow’s reluctant participation in the rescue. ‘You always told me the day would come when Helrena would set me aside.’
‘I did and there’s nothing personal in it. Helrena Skar was raised to be a princess of the celestial caste first and a woman second.’
‘How far do you think can we trust Prince Gyal?’
‘Well enough up until the point he calls himself emperor,’ said Paetro. ‘Beyond that? Only the ancestors know. It’s been a while since an emperor’s ruled Vandia with a first-wife calling herself empress. Sharing power is like sharing a good pie. Someone always ends up with the pastry while the other steals the juicy meat. It’ll be interesting times for us, that much is certain.’
‘And I was rather hoping for a few boring years.’
‘The Skarol dynasty has ruled the empire for millennia,’ said Paetro. ‘It’d be a brave man who bets against them reigning for a few years more. Princess Helrena has promised my sick daughter the attentions of an imperial surgeon when she becomes empress. One of the high ones reserved for the celestial caste.’ He turned to his legionary and ordered the force’s weapons concealed inside the cart and then the wagon was pulled behind two others waiting by the patrol ship.
Duncan was glad for his friend. Paetro’s daughter Hesia had betrayed their house to secure a similar promise from Circae. It was fitting that surviving these troubles would bring the old soldier and his family some measure of happiness. ‘They’ll be able to treat your daughter, I know it. If a regular battlefield surgeon can snatch me back when I was so close to death …’
‘I don’t doubt their sorcery. I’ll do my best to bring your sister back alive, as well as the young highness.’
‘You do that,’ said Duncan. ‘I’ll watch Helrena in your absence. Don’t take any risks in Midsburg.’
‘You mean beyond walking into an enemy stronghold disguised as a peddler with nothing but a few crates of antique guns as my passport?’
‘I mean like trying to hunt down Jacob Carnehan and settle your score with the pastor.’
‘I understand my mission well enough. If I’m blessed enough so that dog’s guarding the young highness, Carnehan’s a dead man. But I know there’s trouble enough on the table without me seeking out an extra helping.’ Paetro pointed to Willow standing by the fast patrol ship. ‘And keep your voice down, man. Your sister still believes they’re enjoying the king’s hospitality. It wouldn’t do to disabuse her of such notions now. And I still say you’re a fool to trust her. She betrayed us in the slave revolt. She betrayed me.’
Duncan reached out and patted the man’s arm. Paetro’s daughter had died thanks to Willow’s foolishness, but Hesia had sold the house out and would have been executed if she had stayed in Vandis. Yes, Hesia had been murdered. But it was Jacob Carnehan who’d pulled the trigger. Duncan and the old soldier headed for the patrol vessel. Its rear cargo ramp was lowered, carts and horses ready to be led into the back, their soldiers dressed as traders from Gidor, wearing long green cloaks with hoods that made them look like foresters. Paetro went to supervise a legionary working on removing a large mounted gun from behind the cabin door. Willow was looking very alone among the burly men, and her gaze was cold and unfriendly when she saw her brother.
Duncan met her misery with a grin. ‘Why so sad, Willow? You’ll be fêted as a heroine of the royalist cause when you return.’
‘This was your idea, wasn’t it, not Father’s … How could you?’
This is more like it. Plain speaking, not biting your tongue back on the hill in that restaurant. No false courtesies or sullen silences. My old sister’s back just in time to help me. ‘I might ask you the same question. I arranged f
or your freedom from the sky mines and you repaid me by joining the slave revolt. Do you have any idea how badly it could have gone for me in the imperium because of that?’
‘You’d chosen your side, and you look to have survived well enough.’
‘Says the southern duchess from the comfort of her husband’s mansion.’
‘You think I care for that? I’m not helping you rescue Lady Cassandra for me. I’m doing this for Carter. That witch Holten made it clear enough what the king will do to Carter and his father in the royal dungeons if I don’t cooperate.’
‘I’m sure Carter’ll thank you for it when the civil war’s over, he always was a grateful soul. Maybe he’ll leave you a thank-you note after he’s broken into your rooms and stolen your jewels.’
‘You don’t know anything about my life, or his!’
‘I’ve read enough about who Father Carnehan really was, just like you. A filthy murderer and brother to Black Barnaby. That explains a lot about Carter, doesn’t it? Bad blood follows bad.’
Willow snorted. ‘You dare call his line bad and talk of murder? Between the usurper’s war and the empire’s revenge, you’re going to leave a mountain of corpses in Weyland and our nation the imperium’s dark reflection. Every worker a vassal and a handful of nobles living as high as slave masters.’
‘Easy platitudes when spoken from the comfort of a southern lord’s table, groaning heavy from food while half the nation’s going hungry on war rationing. Spare me your judgements and your hypocrisy. You and your rebel friends abducted Lady Cassandra,’ said Duncan. ‘And now you’re going to see my charge returned safely. If you fail, I reckon you’ll be dining around a different table, the kind stamped out of Vandian steel in a sky mine …’
‘I’m your sister!’
‘And you’re going to help your brother,’ said Duncan. ‘Just like a real family. After that, you can go back to your carriages and your operas and restaurants in Arcadia and all the rest of your high living.’
‘I don’t want any of it.’
Willow sounded so desperate and genuine that Duncan almost believed her. ‘Really? You seem to have an uncanny knack of backing the winning side, Willow. Unlike the rest of the yokels in Weyland, you’ve actually seen what Vandian warships and their legions’ weapons can do. With the imperium supporting King Marcus, the civil war is only going to end one way. We both know that.’
‘The way the slave revolt ended?’
‘A couple of hundred miners who murdered their supervisors and slipped the yoke? You were lucky. Finding a ship damaged by the stratovolcano’s eruption and using it to escape home.’
Willow sneered at him. ‘Is that what they told you? You really don’t know anything.’
‘I know you’ll be returning with Lady Cassandra,’ snarled Duncan. ‘I know that much. The north will surrender soon enough. And for once, you’ll be standing by my side. You and the young southern gentleman in your belly.’
‘I thought that you were a fool for chasing Adella. But compared to that imperial bitch you’re bedding now, Adella is almost up there with the saints. I hope Princess Helrena is worth it.’
‘You’re not fit to talk of her! Now get on board,’ snapped Duncan. Part of his anger came from his guilt at betraying the princess in Leyla’s arms. But then, Helrena had spurned him first. What was he expected to do? Moon after her while she took Gyal for a husband and seized the throne? ‘And make right what you’ve done wrong.’
‘If only I could.’ Willow boarded the patrol ship. Duncan was almost tempted to tell Willow how well he had satisfied the new mistress of Hawkland Park, just to needle her. Duncan knew Willow loathed ‘that Holten woman’ for deposing her as the queen bee of Hawkland Park. But how Duncan had sealed his alliance wasn’t for Willow’s ears. There was too great a chance Willow would find a way to use it against him, given her intense jealousy of her brother. ‘It was wrong for Father Carnehan to take the princess’s daughter as a hostage. I begged him not to at the time. He said we needed her to stay the imperium’s vengeance, and look how true those words have proven. But Cassandra’s imprisonment is one wrong, like a leaf in a storm, compared to the empire’s sins. Our king’s little more than the emperor’s puppet now, and Weyland is going to end up just another vassal province.’
‘Our family is a loyalist house, Sister. Father got that much right, at least. But you keep bleating the pretender’s traitorous propaganda,’ said Duncan. ‘The rebels should believe you, right up until the moment you betray them. Just as you did me.’
‘Please, for the love of the saints, I’m your sister—’
‘You keep saying that. Yet, Cassandra has proven more of a sister than you ever were. Help Paetro find the poor girl and bring her back. She has no part in this fight. You free her, and I’ll forgive you. You can go back to your southern estate and write pious histories about the wrongs of the civil war while your lucky servants carry you trays of chilled wine in summer and mulled wine in winter.’
‘Go to hell,’ spat Willow. ‘You’ve escaped the slaves’ perdition and made your own while out far-called. A self-made man at last, master of your own destiny just as you always wanted.’
Duncan watched the final loading in disgust. How dare she judge me? Soon enough the patrol ship was riding a rippling curtain of fire into the dark night sky, heading for an altitude far above the skyguard’s aircraft and even the great free merchant carriers, a shooting star looking to land in the north. Willow might have cast herself as a southern lady by marriage, but you didn’t have to scratch deep to find that old jealous sibling, still resentful of Duncan’s success, trying to sabotage him at every step. At least Benner Landor’s naked self-interest was rarely dressed up with such cant and false piety. Their father acted for the family and made no disguise of the fact. Willow had tried to ruin him in the imperium; of that much Duncan was certain. But he had outwitted her. The House of Landor is behind me at last and I’ve shackled her to my cause. If she fails me this time, she’ll suffer far more than I will. Yes, I can count on my family’s greed to bend them to my will.
And perhaps, when Helrena’s daughter was returned safely, the princess would be made to understand the true value of Duncan’s place in her household. She won’t be blinded by the lure and novelty of the diamond throne for long. After Helrena saw how dutifully the new emperor was fulfilling his obligation to fill the imperium with highborn heirs through the imperial harem, no doubt encouraged by scheming Circae, Helrena would remember Duncan Landor more kindly than she did now. If the rumours were true, and Circae had used some trick of science to slip her son into the cuckoo’s nest, then perhaps it was a trick that Duncan could repeat with Helrena? Wouldn’t that be a thing? To father the next ruler of the imperium with the woman I love. It would be the ultimate revenge to take on Gyal, for stealing the woman who should have been Duncan’s.
THIRTEEN
MISSION IN THE NORTH
Carter walked through the city on his way to the airfield, the skyguard station a long stroll beyond Midsburg’s northern gate, winding his way below three-storey brick and timber buildings on either side of a wide boulevard crowded by carts and wagons and travellers on horseback, all mixed with soldiers from the dozens of tent camps set up in rings around the city. Anna Kurtain strolled by his side, Prince Owen’s bodyguard and confidante filling out a long grey overcoat with two series of copper buttons, a worn leather belt with a pistol on one hip and a sheathed sabre on the other. People were flooding in from all over, and not just politicians from the rebel prefectures. Traders and merchants and locals who wanted to witness history being made. There was an almost carnival air to the proceedings quite at odds with the desperate fighting raging along the Spotswood River to hold back the southern armies. There was to be a vote later on in the reformed assembly, demanding the usurper’s head for crimes against the people. Could a sitting monarch, even an usurper like Marcus, really be found guilty of treason as a tyrant, traitor, murderer and public enemy? If he c
ould, it would prove a powerful rallying call to the rebellious north. The world is turning, and what’s my part in it to be? Ferreting out Kerge and Sheplar and bringing that imperial brat back to Midsburg. I never asked to be a soldier, but even that’s honest duty compared to playing jailor to a sullen little hostage. As unasked for as his service as a soldier had been, Carter still didn’t like abandoning his company. There was a bond between those who served and fought together, and he was breaking it. Its severing left a bad taste in his mouth.
‘How long do I have to return the girl?’ asked Carter.
‘Try to be back within a week,’ said Anna Kurtain.
‘That soon?’
‘That soon, Northhaven. Our spies report that the Vandians have started leaving Arcadia’s bawdy houses and taverns untouched. When a soldier forgoes drinking and whoring, he normally has other things on his mind, such as sobering up to be somewhere else more important.’
‘We whipped the Vandians in the sky mines,’ said Carter. ‘And we were just slaves.’
‘We beat a handful of hastily scrambled soldiers while they were being rained on by magma and rock,’ said Anna. ‘What we face now is a full imperial squadron, warships packed with trained fighting men and helos and armoured vehicles. The imperium’s sent their best. Veterans. We’re barely holding Bad Marcus’s boys back in Humont and Bolesland as it is, and now we’ve got the armies of the Hicks and Dulany linking up in the east to pound us in Chicola. Even if we burn every bridge across the Spotswood, they’ll ford the river and flank us through Deersota. It’s what I would do.’
Carter halted among the crowd with Anna. A caravan of wagons was being waved through by the gate’s harassed sentries. He caught sight of Thomas Purdell riding in behind the caravan. The guild courier slipped through the gate and stopped his horse in front of Carter and Anna.