East of the Sun, West of the Moon

by John Ringo

  "Ya think?"

  * * *

  "No, Duke, it's all right," Megan said, brushing aside a hand as her carriage followed by a squad of cavalry pulled up. "I have my own transportation. Thank you, though." Thank God Herzer hadn't attended or a Duke would have been punched through a wall!

  "Perhaps a nightcap?" the Duke asked, his hand sliding onto her back.

  "It's a bit late," Megan said as Meredith interposed herself and the coachman opened the door. "Perhaps another time."

  "A good night kiss," the Duke said, darting around Meredith and planting his lips on her cheek.

  "Good night," Megan snapped, clambering into the coach.

  "Have fun?" Herzer asked.

  "Oh, God," Megan replied, collapsing in the rear seat as the coach pulled out to the clatter of accompanying hooves. "What are you doing here?"

  "My other other duty," Herzer said, pulling back his cloak to show that he was in armor. "Guarding you. Good evening, Miss Meredith. I'm sorry, I've hardly said two words to you all evening."

  "That's fine, Major," Meredith said. "I'm used to being invisible."

  "Hardly invisible," Herzer said, one cheek twitching up in what might be called a smile. "Speaking of hardly invisible, the Duke's jilted paramour turned up at the party and managed to inveigle me into the last dance."

  "My night is now complete," Megan sighed.

  "I'm sure it will be all over Washan tomorrow," Herzer said. " I can see the headline now: 'Paramour Swapping?' Sorry. I missed getting any of the married females present and I didn't realize how bad it was until we were already dancing. Loan me Meredith next time."

  "Or Mirta," Meredith said, seriously. "That might not be a bad idea."

  "It's a thought," Megan said. "But next time I should be there. This was the wrong way to set this up. I had no idea that guy was as stupid and boorish as he was."

  "Neither did I," Meredith admitted. "It's unusual behavior for him."

  "You are overpowering my love," Herzer chuckled.

  "How did you handle the doxie?" Megan asked. "Punctiliously, I hope?"

  "Except for trying to rape her on the dance floor and threatening her life?" Herzer asked. "Like a perfect gentleman."

  "You didn't?" Megan asked.

  "Well...let's just say I probably should have restrained my demons just a bit more," Herzer admitted. "But she really pissed me off. And quite the opposite by the end of the encounter."

  "Meredith?" Megan said, closing her eyes. "Repercussions?"

  "More Mirta's area than mine," Meredith answered. "We'll have to see what the gossip circuit says. Off the top of my head, it might be either okay or better than okay. She was clearly seen leaving without you, Major, correct?"

  "And apparently in a state of high dudgeon," Herzer admitted.

  "And prior to that would she have appeared...available?" Meredith asked.

  "Eminently," Herzer replied. "If rape was intended, it was clearly not by me."

  "The wife set will be clucking like mad," Meredith said. "In general, I think, in your favor. He had it thrown in his face and spurned it, presumably in favor of you. And you'd up and left him at the party. It should fall out well. I don't know how it will fall out with Duke Dehnavi, though."

  "I think, whatever the political consequences, I'm willing to let the Duke rot," Megan admitted. "No more meetings with him other than in groups. Possibly no more meetings with him, period."

  " 'Oh, is Duke Dehnavi going to be at your party? I'm sorry, perhaps another time...'" Meredith said, suddenly smiling cold and hard.

  "Perhaps a bit more subtle than that," Megan said. "Ashley's area. But not much; I definitely want to discourage a repeat. I'll let her handle it."

  "Yes," Meredith said, smiling again. "She'll have the right malicious little words."

  "I should be covering what's on the agenda for tomorrow," Megan admitted. "But I'm just too tired."

  "The most important point is meeting with the Select Intelligence Subcommittee at 9AM," Meredith said. "Nothing before then; I knew it would be a late night."

  "Wow," Herzer said, widening his eyes. "I get you to myself for a whole, what? Seven hours? Less prep time?"

  "And most of that sleeping," Megan said, smiling sadly. "Sorry love."

  "Seven hours is worth much with you," Herzer said, gallantly but there was a tinge of bitterness under it. Among other things he knew that, besides a bit of conversation, maybe, and a kiss, the night would involve nothing but sleep. He could last. He had sworn he would and he'd never gone back on a vow.

  "We'll have time soon, love," Megan promised. "And you didn't have to show up. In armor no less."

  "You're the most important person in my life," Herzer said, honestly. "And one of the most important people in the world. Keeping you alive is much more important than changing out of that monkey suit and into armor. Hell, armor's more comfortable."

  "That is what the squad of cavalry is for," Meredith noted sharply.

  "Like I'd trust cavalry with Megan's life," Herzer snorted. "Horsey boys that don't want to dismount and can't handle themselves mounted."

  "You let me come to the meeting by myself," Megan noted, frowning.

  "There was a squad of Blood Lords shadowing you," Herzer said with a shrug. "And you pointedly told me I wasn't to come."

  "There was?" Megan said, frowning.

  "And is," Herzer said, smiling faintly. "In the keeping of a fellow named Cruz that works for your poppa. He's doing the actual stalking. They're far enough back the cavalry haven't noticed. Which, I think, says it all about your escort. If guards can shadow you and not be noticed, so can assassins. Look, leave the security to me and your dad, you just concentrate on what you do so well."

  "There are times I miss Baradur." The petite Chudai warrior had expressed a wish to return to his Highland home and Megan had had him returned with a bag full of silver for his services. "But he would have been a problem at this meeting, for example."

  "He would have cut the Duke's hand off the first time he touched you," Meredith noted. "While I see the political repercussions I would have enjoyed watching it."

  "Blood all over the white table-cloth," Megan said with a grin. "All the glitterati gaping. The screams. The headlines. No, I think it's better that he wasn't along."

  "It's always odd to look at a stump where your hand used to be," Herzer said, holding up his prosthetic.

  "I hope I never find out," Megan said, shaking her head.

  "Useful for opening jars," Herzer said with a shrug.

  Chapter Three

  "Herzer!"

  Herzer was walking back from another round of meetings at the War Department when he heard his name called. It was mid afternoon and he could have easily gotten a hansom cab for the kilometer or so walk, but after six hours of sitting on his butt listening to staff officers arguing about details of logistics trains a walk felt good.

  He turned at the call, though, and was surprised to see Mike and Courtney Boehlke, all dress up in their festival best.

  "Mike," he said, taking his friend's hand. "What in the hell are you doing in Sodom on Poma?"

  "Business," Mike said, grumpily. The farmer was browned by the sun, short and stocky with a shock of hair that was blonde on the near edge of white from bleaching. "Talking to damned bureaucrats."

  "A common problem in this town," Herzer said. "Courtney, you're looking entirely edible," he added, hugging the short, buxom redhead. Despite having at least a half a dozen children, she had still retained her pre-Fall figure, which was set off very nicely by a scoop neck dress, and was one of his favorite people.

  "We're trying to get some of the land they're opening up in the Sippa delta," Courtney said. "It's not going well. By the way, congratulations! We heard you're engaged to the Council Woman! When's the wedding?"

  "You'll be among the first to know," Herzer said, looking around. "If you're not doing anything, let's get a drink. Simak's isn't bad," he added, pointing at a nearby tavern.


  When they were seated with mugs in front of them, beer for Herzer and Mike and wine for Courtney, Herzer raised and eyebrow.

  "So you're deserting my farm?" he asked, jokingly. He had purchased a piece of land in the first days after the Fall, using just about his last available capital and a lucky lottery. Since he knew he was for the legions, he had turned the management over to Mike and the joint farms, which were side by side, had been steadily improving over the year and recently had started to produce a nice profit.

  "I'm not deserting you, Herzer," Mike said, gruffly. The farmer was short and prickly to a fault but he and Herzer were good enough friends that the major recognized it for just his normal tone. "There's a good manager for both farms and the rotation schedule is working like a clock. It's just..."

  "He's bored," Courtney interjected, somewhat sourly. "He needs more of a challenge. So he wants to drag me and the kids back into the wilderness."

  "Sippa delta is excellent farm land," Mike protested. "It'll grow shoestrings! And with the river right there transportation costs will be nothing. Getting it back to the markets on the coast is a problem, but they're bound to get the ports running at Nawlins sooner or later."

  "So what's the problem?" Herzer asked, frowning.

  "The damned bureaucrats," Mike snarled. "They're locking up all the land for the ag corps. The legislation had a hundred loopholes in it and the bureaus that are in charge of distribution are spreading it out using a scale based on 'proven property.' Now, between us, we've got six thousand hectares and I can point to all of it as 'proven' in my name. But Koberda Yoon has over ninety thousand. So they use this scale. With six thousand they only want to open up a hundred and sixty hectares to me, but they're opening over a hundred thousand to Koberda-Yoon. And the payback period is based on total grant, so I've got two years to prove out and Koberda has thirty."

  "Crap," Herzer said, shaking his head. "No wonder you're pissed."

  "Furious," Courtney said, nodding. "It was all I could do to drag him out of there before he started cracking heads."

  "I've often been tempted in this damned town," Herzer admitted, thinking of a certain Duke. "But it only gives you more grief. No, you need somebody with connections to find the loophole in the loophole. There are always 'waivers' or 'exceptions' in something like this." He frowned and shook his head. "I don't do politics, but...Megan does. Damnit, though..."

  "You don't want to ask her?" Courtney said, suddenly focused.

  "No, I don't," Herzer said, shrugging. "But I will. It just goes against my grain that you have to have a 'friend at court' to get your rights. That's not how it's supposed to happen."

  "We tried to get in to see Commons Member Bouseh," Mike said, shrugging. "But he was 'busy.'"

  "I'm not sure what Megan can do, if she can do anything," Herzer said, standing up. "But there's only one way to find out."

  "You don't want us to go, do you?" Courtney asked, shaking her head.

  "Yes," Herzer answered, simply. "She's my fiancée. You're two of my best friends. It's time you met."

  "I wish it was under better circumstances, though," Courtney argued. "Maybe we shouldn't do this."

  "This is Washan," Herzer sighed. "Unfortunately, it's not so much what you know or what you can do but who you know. You coming?"

  "Yeah," Mike said, standing up. "Come on, Courtney."

  "I like Raven's Mill," Courtney said, but she stood up and followed the men out of the tavern.

  "Great," Mike said, gruffly. "We can retire there."

  * * *

  "Megan," Herzer said happily when he came in the apartment and discovered that she was actually there. "This is Courtney and Mike Boehlke, two of my oldest and best friends."

  "Miss...Count..." Courtney said, nervously, trying to curtsey.

  "Courtney," Megan said, quickly getting up from the couch where she was pouring over notes and walking over to take the woman's hand. "Give me a break," she said, grinning and pointing at Herzer. "I'm marrying him. You don't have to curtsey, but you could keep me in your prayers."

  Courtney laughed at that and grinned, showing a deep dimple on one side. "Well, I haven't heard many complaints and most of the ones I have heard boil down to 'no more!'"

  Megan smiled and offered her hand to Mike as Meredith floated into the room.

  "Mike, it's good to meet you at last," Megan said. "Herzer's told me so much about you."

  "Well, we had to hear about you in the newspapers," Mike said, shaking her hand sharply and then looking away. He met Meredith's eyes for a moment then looked away from them as well.

  "The best friends are always the last to know," Megan said, leading them over to the couch. "Meredith, I think I'm done with this for a bit. If you could ask Shanea to round up some drinks? Tea or is it late enough for something stronger?" she added, looking at the visitors.

  "Herzer dragged us away when I was half way through a glass of wine," Courtney said. "But it's up to you."

  "Wine for Courtney," Megan said. "And for me as well, the Raven's Mill Chablis perhaps? Mike? Wine?"

  "Beer if you don't mind," Mike said, tersely, looking around at the well decorated apartment. "I'd have thought that a council member would have a house or something."

  "Houses are at a premium in Washan," Megan admitted, shrugging. "And this is closer to work."

  "The shorter distance she has to travel, the less chance of an assassin getting to her," Herzer added, sourly.

  "Ick," Courtney said, shaking her head.

  "Megan," Herzer said, "do you have a few minutes?"

  "Actually, I have all night amazingly enough," Megan said. "I was planning on spending the evening with you."

  "Ouch," Mike said, standing up. "Maybe we should go."

  "Sit," Herzer said. "This should hardly take all evening. The thing is, Mike and Courtney have a problem and I don't know how to help them. I hope you do." He paused as Shanea came in followed by Meredith. As Shanea handed out the glasses and set a chilled bottle on the table Meredith took an outlying seat.

  "Here you go, hero," Shanea said with a grin, handing Herzer a glass dark with liquor. "Neat bourbon. Side of sassafras tea."

  "What would we do without you, Shanea?" Herzer said, grinning.

  "Tell me when you're ready to dump whatsername and we'll find out," Shanea said with a wink and a wiggle as she left.

  Mike's mouth dropped open at the by-play but Megan just rolled her eyes.

  "Shanea, and Meredith for that matter, were with me when I was incarcerated by Paul Bowman," Megan said, shrugging. "Each of us dealt with it in our own way. In Shanea's case, it helped that she was a minx. And still is."

  "If it's not too personal a question," Courtney said, hesitantly, "how did you deal with it?"

  "By making myself busy," Megan answered, honestly. "By creating projects for myself and by planning his assassination. And, finally, by carrying it out. It wasn't pleasant and I prefer not to talk about it, much more than that. And please don't ask Meredith about it at all."

  "I won't," Courtney said, shaking her head. "I'm very glad, though, that you were a strong and capable person and I'd like to...well..." she ended, holding up her glass. "Good luck to you and Herzer. He's a very good guy. I hope you'll be happy."

  "That I'll drink to," Mike said, holding up his own glass of beer.

  After they had sipped Megan set her glass down with a clink and looked at them gravely.

  "Okay, why do you need a friend in court?"

  After Mike explained their dilemma Megan frowned.

  "Meredith?"

  "The legislation initially had a number of competing distribution plans," Meredith stated. "The one that came closest to the final bill included both a lottery and a proven distribution plan. It was killed in committee primarily by a few commons that were heavily supported by various ag corp lobbyists. Since a number of the higher ups in the Agriculture Department have worked for ag corps they clearly felt they could get a better distribution
plan through the bureaucracy than in congress. And they were right."

  "It's not right, though," Megan admitted. "Agriculture is still the basis of the UFS economy and, correct me if I'm wrong, but the majority of agriculture is still small farmer. Correct?"

  "Eighty percent thereabouts according the last report I scanned," Meredith said. "I haven't been concentrating on it, though."

  "Exceptions we could use?" Megan asked, nodding.

  "Military members," Meredith said. "They can apply for a grant with a very long proven period and only a portion of the property has to be proven. Herzer, for example, could apply for up to six thousand hectares and only have to prove out six hundred within twenty years. And he can buy additional land at a very low cost. How low was not specified in the legislation and depends upon the value of the property. There are no exceptions, however, for general farmers. Not in the legislation."

  "That's not right," Courtney said. "Nothing against the military, Herzer, but..."

  "I suspect it's a means of retaining trained officers," Megan said. "It reverts if they resign their commission?"

  "All but proven lands and even then they only can retain up to twenty percent," Meredith said. "All lands revert to their heirs upon their death in service, proven or unproven, with no penalty."

  "That's why," Megan said, musingly. "What about council members?"

  "Up to one hundred thousand hectares," Meredith recited. "Only one thousand need be proven within twenty years. Dukes up to fifty thousand, same conditions."

  "I wonder if Duke Edmund knows that?" Megan said, smiling slightly. "Mike, how much land could you manage?"

  "I want my own farm," Mike temporized. "My own land. Not to manage tenant farmers."

  "Oh, we can arrange that I'm sure," Megan said, musingly. "And it doesn't solve the basic problem of the bureaucracy screwing people like you. There are several ways to approach this and I think we should use most of them. The first, Mike, is that small farmers like yourself need to get more organized. Preferably, form a political party but at the very least form some sort of a union that can hire lobbyists and make political contributions. Sorry, but that's how the system works and you either use it or you get used. There are enough farmers, both as a source of funds and direct voters, that with a little organization the commons will not dare ignore you. The second layer will be directed specifically at this problem. I could, frankly, use an income that's not dependent upon my subscription from the government. Therefore, Herzer, myself and possibly Duke Edmund will apply for grants of land and consider buying a few more parcels with the agreement that you manage them. The last point will be to ensure that the bureaucrats know you have friends in high places. I think we're going out to dinner."