Deathstalker Return

by Simon R. Green

  He gestured with his hand again, and all twelve disappeared. Owen turned to the Shub robot. "They'll be back out again, in time. Wait here for them."

  "We will stay and care for them, in your name," said the robot. "Whatever comes back out. All that lives is holy."

  The others were looking at each other uncertainly. Even Silence had never seen Owen use his power so casually. Lewis cleared his throat.

  "Is it going to be that easy, dealing with the Terror?"

  "Beats the hell out of me," said Owen. "I haven't got a clue what the Terror is, never mind what to do about it. I think the first thing to do is go and get a good close-up look at it. Maybe that will give me a few ideas."

  There was a long horrified silence, followed by a loud clamor of objections from pretty much everybody, mostly along the lines of Are you crazy? They broke off only when the Hereward's AI came through on all their comm implants.

  "Sorry to interrupt, gang, but we are all in deep doo-doo. Welcome back, Owen! This is Ozymandias—or at least what's left of him. We really must sit down and have a nice little chat in the future, assuming we have one. At the moment, I'm sorry to have to tell you that what appears to be the whole damned Imperial fleet has just dropped out of hyperspace and assumed orbit around Haden. It seems Finn isn't taking any chances."

  Owen laughed. "Just like old times, isn't it, Oz?"

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  FINN TRIUMPHANT, MOSTLY

  It was the day of the Coronation, and Finn Durandal strode into the Imperial Court as though he already owned it. He was followed by massed marching ranks of Church Militant and Pure Humanity faithful, looking for all the world like a general at the head of an invading army—which, truth be told, wasn't that far from the reality. Officially, with James dead and Douglas disgraced, Finn was being made King by popular acclaim and Parliamentary decree. Actually, Finn just said he was going to be King, and everyone else went along. The MPs held a special session in the House, and took it in turns to stand up and say What a good idea, and the people, desperate for a savior to rescue them from all the evils that troubled the Empire, clamored for the earliest possible Coronation. There were dissenting voices, but nobody listened to them, or at least, no one who mattered. Finn was going to be King, and that was all there was to it.

  Finn stepped out across the great hall of the court at a good pace, smiling and nodding regally as he progressed down the wide central aisle separating the crowds of carefully chosen guests. Rank after rank of the finest fanatics stamped after him in perfect lock step, looking neither to the left nor the right. For them, this was a holy occasion. The anointing of the chosen one. Both the Church Miliant and the Pure Humanity representatives were carefully selected zealots of the first order, all determined to outdo each other in military precision and presentation. After all, the whole Empire was watching. Live. They did make a magnificent sight, bold and bright and utterly intimidating in their crisp dress uniforms, making it clear to everyone where Finns power base lay.

  Finn stopped at the base of the raised dais at the end of the hall, bowed to the empty throne, and then turned to smile and wave at the guests and the cameras. He was still wearing his black leather Champion's uniform, under the traditional cloak of Kings. He looked tall and handsome and already impossibly regal. He went to his throne, and sat down. The zealots crashed to a halt before the raised dais with one last thunderous about-turn, so that they could study the invited guests for any sign of trouble. The zealots were armed. The guests weren't. By order.

  Musicians played, trumpets sounded, the choir sang like angels, and flocks of holographic doves soared through brilliant shafts of light falling through the gorgeous stained-glass windows in the high ceiling. It was tradition and ceremony in the old style, and the sense of occasion was so thick you could have cut it with a knife. The invited guests were unusually quiet, even subdued, in their seats, and the dozens of remote cameras bobbing overhead were hard put to find anything interesting to concentrate on. Unseen in their little studios at the back of the court, the commentators were reduced to discussing what people were wearing, to fill in time until the ceremony proper began. Anne Barclay slipped through the heavy black drapes behind the throne, and came forwards to stand beside Finn. She was wearing a stunning blue-and-silver gown, expertly cut to show off her fabulous figure to its best advantage, and Anne wore it without grace, as though it belonged to someone else. She looked out over the assembled guests, and sniffed loudly.

  "Look at them. Miserable bastards. Not an honestly cheerful face in the bunch. You'd think we were at a funeral, not a Coronation."

  "They'll get into the swing of things, once the ceremony's under way," Finn said calmly. "These are trying times. You have to allow for a few long faces. They'll all cheer loudly enough once I'm crowned. The guards will see to that."

  "You should have held James's funeral first, and then had the Coronation," Anne said bluntly.

  "First things first, my dear. The Empire needs a King. And it's not as if James is going to be impatient. Oh, do try to cheer up, Anne. I know you were fond of James, but it's been over a week now. Excessive mourning is unflattering and self-indulgent. Now smile at the nice people, and I don't want to hear any mention of James again. This is my big day, and I don't want any distractions. In fact I've given orders to my security people that if there are any distractions, they're to be taken outside and shot."

  "Looks like everyone's here who should be," said Anne. "All the usual suspects. Politicians, businessmen, Church elders and Neuman leaders."

  "Of course. All the real movers and shakers, come to pay me homage. I had to send out some guards to collect a few MPs, to make sure they didn't get lost on their way here, but these politicians always get a little sulky when they realize they're on the losing side. I've made a note of certain names, for later."

  Anne looked at Finn, sitting casually on the throne like he belonged there, and always had. "You finally got what you wanted, Finn. How does it feel?"

  "It feels fine, my dear. But this is only the beginning of what I want."

  Anne decided not to follow that, for the moment, and changed the subject. "You're still wearing your Champion's armor. Have you given any thought as to who's going to serve as your new Champion?"

  "I shall be King and Champion," said Finn. "I see no reason to share my power and authority with anyone else. Besides, there's no one worthy, these days."

  Anne decided she wasn't going to follow that one either, and so she held her peace and looked out again over the packed court. A healthy-sized gathering had turned out to see Finn's Coronation, and there was certainly no lack of media interest, but Anne couldn't help comparing the scene with the glorious celebrations of Douglas's Coronation. Such golden days, full of hope and optimism. Today's crowd seemed a much more drab affair. Mostly because there were no Society people, and no celebrities. Finn wouldn't have them. Parasites, he said dismissively. And perhaps they were, but you could always rely on them to add a touch of color and excitement. Anne sighed quietly. It seemed Finn was determined to run an austere court. And of course there were no espers or aliens, to add a little charm and strangeness…

  Is this what we've come to? thought Anne. Nothing hut fanatics and puritans… and a King who cares for nothing but heing King?

  The ceremony proper commenced exactly on time, and proceeded with military precision. Everyone was in the right place, at the right time, and everyone knew their lines. Fear can be a great motivator. The crowd cheered and clapped in all the right places. The guards saw to that. Joseph Wallace, now official head of the Church Militant as well as chairman of the Transmutation Board, worked his way through the rituals with efficient if graceless thoroughness. He'd gone way overboard on the gold trimmings and face paint, but no one said anything. It was a slightly rushed ceremony, reduced in advance by Finn and Anne to the bare essentials, and they completely dispensed with Owen's traditional warning to the people, on the unanswerable grounds that the Terror was a
lready upon them. Wallace placed the crown on Finn's head, and everyone cheered. The fanatics made the most noise, of course, along with certain MPs hoping to be noticed by the new King, but in the end most of the cheers were honest enough. James was dead, Douglas was disgraced, and the Empire needed a King, so why not Finn? He looked the part well enough. And at least no one would ever accuse him of being weak or indecisive.

  The floating news cameras carried the scene live to every planet in the Empire, and there was much rejoicing. Only remote cameras had been allowed into the Court. No actual reporters. Finn had absolutely no intention of answering any awkward questions. He controlled an awful lot of the news media now, directly or indirectly, but you never could tell what a reporter might suddenly get it into his head to ask. A few had tried to sneak in anyway, and had been very thoroughly thrown out. All except for demon girl reporter Nina Malapert, who was there as the guest of the Paragon Emma Steel. Nina got away with it because absolutely nobody wanted to risk upsetting Emma Steel.

  No other Paragons were present, not even Finn's close personal friend Stuart Lennox of Virimonde. Paragons were not popular at present, for a variety of reasons, including what had just happened with Clan Deathstalker on Virimonde.

  King Finn stood up from his throne to make his first official speech. Anne had put a lot of work into it, and Finn made it all sound suitably spontaneous. The speech was short and to the point, mostly vague but emphatic promises of better times ahead for everyone, and the announcement of Douglas Campbell's forthcoming trial for treason, sedition, murder, and royal fratricide. There were some murmurs at that, quickly glared into silence by the watching guards. Everyone cheered at the end of the speech, King Finn smiled and waved, and then disappeared behind the hanging black drapes, and everyone went home. There was no official party, this time. Finn wasn't a party person.

  In fact, Finn's first official visit as King was to the apartment of his close friend, the Paragon Stuart Lennox. Finn had sent an official summons, calling on Stuart to attend his new King, but Stuart wouldn't open his door to the messenger, and his comm line was closed down. So Finn went to see Stuart. Anyone else would have had their door kicked in, and been dragged before their King in chains for such a slight, but Finn went in person. For old times' sake.

  Stuart had a nice apartment in a nice part of town. Finn arrived incognito, with just a handful of guards. He knocked politely on Stuart's door, and called out his name. There was a long pause. Finn waited patiently. Eventually the door opened a crack, and Stuart looked out. Finn had to admit he was surprised at the changes in Stuart since he'd last seen him. The young Paragon's face was gaunt and haggard, his eyes were red and puffy, and he hadn't shaved in days. He was wearing old, unwashed clothes that looked and smelled as though they'd been slept in. Several times. But Stuart's gaze was steady and his mouth was firm, as he looked coldly out at his old friend Finn.

  "Well, Stuart," Finn said lightly. "Aren't you going to invite me in? I've come a long way, just to see you. Have you no welcome for your new King?"

  Stuart let go of the door, and shuffled back into his apartment. Finn pushed the door open, stepped inside, and then carefully closed the door behind him. He looked unhurriedly about him, not letting his opinion show in his face. The room was a mess. Everything was just scattered around, as though Stuart had taken to dropping things where he felt like, and couldn't be bothered to pick them up. There was a close, fusty atmosphere, and the shades were drawn over the windows. Finn peered into the gloom, letting his eyes adjust. Stuart was sitting slumped in an oversized armchair, not looking at Finn. It was very quiet in the dark room. Finn pulled up a chair and sat down facing Stuart.

  "Tell me who your cleaning service is, and I'll have them shot," Finn said cheerfully. "Joke, Stuart. You know, you're looking…"

  "I know what I look like," said Stuart. His voice was quiet, flat, almost uninvolved. "I haven't been sleeping. Haven't been eating, either. Can't keep anything down, not after…" Stu…

  "You let them do that to me! They killed a man in front of me, and then made me eat his… and you didn't even punish them!"

  "They could still be useful to me," said Finn. "Once the fuss over Virimonde has died down, and it will… I know I can count on their loyalty. What about your loyalty, Stu?"

  Stuart smiled slowly. It wasn't a pleasant sight, and neither was the look that came into his dark, sunken eyes. "That's why you're here, isn't it, Finn? Not because you're concerned about me. I only matter when it affects you. Bastard."

  Finn sighed. "You were such a pretty boy once, Stuart. And now look what you've done to yourself. Why didn't you come to my Coronation? It was my big day. I wanted you there. I did send you an invitation."

  "Oh come on now, Finn. Someone like me doesn't belong in your new austere life. Your new Kingly image. I know too much about the real you. I've had a lot of time to think, sitting here in the dark. Waiting for you to come and see me. I don't like the man you made me into. I gave up honor and responsibility and self-respect, all for your love. Only to discover you don't know the meaning of the word. Look at what's become of me, Finn. All for you."

  "I never asked you to do this to yourself," said Finn. "If I'd known you were prone to hysteria and overreaction…"

  "Get out of here, Finn. I still have some pride left. I won't be your puppy dog anymore."

  "You'll be whatever I want you to be," said Finn, and then stopped, because Stuart was laughing soundlessly at him.

  "Or what, Finn? You'll make me eat human flesh again? You'll kill me and put me out of my misery? There's nothing left you can threaten me with."

  "Oh, I'm sure I could find something, Stuart. If I put my mind to it. I have a job for you, Stuart Lennox, and I am your King. You took an oath when you became a Paragon: to be faithful unto death to the throne of Logres. Are you an oath breaker now?"

  Stuart sat very still in his chair, his face unreadable. "What do you want of me… Your Majesty?"

  "The other Paragons are trapped in the Sangreal bar. It seems they cant take a step outside without being stoned, or even openly attacked. And I can't let them defend themselves, because then we'll have even more bodies on our hands. I need them to stay put and keep their heads down, until I can take steps to repair their reputations. But, just like you, it seems they're too preoccupied with their own problems to answer the comm. So I want you to take my message to them. They know you speak for me…"

  And he stopped again, because Stuart had lurched up out of his chair, and was standing swaying before Finn.

  "You bastard! I can't believe you'd ask that of me!"

  "Someone has to do it. And I'm not asking you, Stuart. I am your King, and I'm giving you an order."

  "Take your order and shove it, Your Majesty. Now get the hell out of my home. I can't stand to look at you anymore."

  Finn rose unhurriedly to his feet. "Ah, Stu; and we were so close, once. I really am sorry about what happened. But I have to see the bigger picture."

  "There is no bigger picture, Finn. There's only people, and how you treat them. Just… go. And if you ever really felt anything for me, don't come back."

  Finn left the apartment. He stood outside the closed door for a while, remembering, and considering. And then he nodded to the small group of armed guards he'd left waiting outside Stuart's apartment, and they smashed the door open and rushed into the apartment. Finn sighed quietly. It was a pity, but if Stuart couldn't be trusted to carry out orders anymore, then he couldn't be trusted at all. He'd made himself into a liability.

  It didn't take the guards long to overpower Stuart and drag him out into the corridor. He was kicking and struggling, but he didn't have much strength left after his extended fast. He saw Finn watching, and started to curse him. The guards shut him up with brutal efficiency. Finn waited until he was sure Stuart was listening and paying attention, and then he addressed the officer in charge.

  "Take him to the nearest lockup, and hold him there until I send word.
No one's to know he's there. And remember to search him very thoroughly for concealed weapons. He was a Paragon once, after all."

  "Du Bois won't stand for this," said Stuart, spitting blood out of his broken mouth.

  "The honorable member for Virimonde is no longer gracing us with his company," said Finn. "He left Logres yesterday, under an assumed identity. It seems he was rather upset over what happened to the late Clan Deathstalker. Who would have thought it? Either way, he's gone home and gone to ground, on Virimonde. The planetary council there was uncommonly rude to me the last time I spoke to them. Actually threatened to go rogue, like Mistworld. But of course it won't come to that. Either they agree to roll over and play dead, like a good little puppy dog, or I'll have the transmutation engines turn their whole world and everything on it into something more useful."

  Stuart tried to lunge at Finn, but the guards held him firmly.

  "The people, bless their black vindictive little hearts, need to see a Paragon brought to trial," Finn said cheerfully. "So I think we'll give them you." He looked again at the officer in charge. "Better see that he's kept well-drugged. We don't want him hurting himself before he comes to trial. And by the time you do come to trial, Stuart, the drugs will have wiped your mind of anything unpleasant you might have said against me. Trust me; you'll feel so much better. Good-bye, Stuart. I'll probably be too busy to attend your trial; but I promise I'll do my best to be there for your execution."

  He nodded to the guards, and they dragged Stuart Lennox away. Finn was already thinking about something else.

  The Paragon Emma Steel decided she couldn't afford to wait any longer to put the boot into Finn bloody Durandal. He was King now, which meant there was no one but her left to oppose him. She could already see the signs of a major clamp-down against all dissenting voices moving into place. There was nothing and no one left to stop Finn from moving against anyone he saw as an enemy. Or even a potential enemy. He had to be shut down now, before he could consolidate his power. Emma said as much to Nina Malapert, while striding up and down the young reporter's living room like a caged animal.