“And I get frightened every time I think about it. But gunpowder could have been discovered by Tran people.”
“While for damn sure the Shalnuksis would know where we got radios,” Rick agreed with a nod. “It doesn’t matter, it’s not like we can build them anyway. Bloody hell, what did Marconi use for receivers?”
“I don’t know, but it wasn’t very portable,” Gwen said. “Wasn’t that before vacuum tubes? Crystals?”
“Could be. We don’t have anyone who knows vacuum tubes, either. Transistors and integrated circuits are way beyond us, but I could make vacuum tubes if I knew what to do with them. There’s a filament that’s negative, and a plate that’s positive, and a negatively charged grid in between that you can use to control the flow of electrons to the plate, and I don’t remember where I learned that. What I need’s an old ham-radio manual from the 1940s.”
“A power source wouldn’t hurt either.”
“Well, yeah. Fat chance I’ll get anything like that from the Shalnuksis, but I know the principles. We can make generators. All we need is time with some peace and quiet.”
“There are a lot of things we could do with time and some peace and quiet,” Gwen said. “Including building one of those vacuum tubes you just described and setting Warner to fooling around with it.”
“The fooling around would require building meters,” Rick said. “We don’t have the tools, or the instruments to tell us how to build the tools or—oh hell. It would be fun to try, but I don’t suppose I’ll ever have any time for that kind of thing. Pity you didn’t get to do a week’s technology shopping before Les brought you here! Anyway, Gwen, the situation here in this castle—hell, in Drantos—is a bit complicated.”
“Yes. I’ve spoken with Larry Warner.”
“Ah. Good.” So she’d know about his problems with the Wanax. Better still, Warner would have told Gwen about the reconciliation with Tylara. One less complication to worry about. “Are you still friends with the Queen?”
“As much as she has friends,” Gwen said. “She’s in a tough spot.”
“Tell me about it.” Rick clapped his hands. “Tea,” he said. “Or would you prefer wine?”
“You have a good sherry in your cellars,” Gwen said. “Hunter’s. Perhaps a glass of that with tea?”
Rick nodded to the steward.
“Let it be so.” He waited until the servants had left. “We’ll see what he brings. I don’t know how much English these people have picked up,” he said.
“Not much,” Lady Siobhan said. “Not as much as I.”
“Yeah, but you’re getting pretty good at it, My Lady,” Rick said. Siobhan was tall and fair, brown eyes and long hair the color of honey. She was younger than Gwen but older than most unmarried ladies of the court. At the University she functioned as Rector Gwen’s office manager, and unofficially as dean of female students.
She blushed slightly. “Thank you. I am glad to see you, My Lord, but I had hoped for another . . . ”
Rick nodded understanding.
“I had to leave Lord Major Mason in command at Dravan so I could come rescue my wife. I’m sure he’s as disappointed as you are.”
“Or perhaps he’s forgotten me. I have heard nothing from him for a long time.”
Fat flipping chance, Rick thought.
“He spoke of you daily, and how would he know you were here, My Lady? I didn’t, until I got here today. I thought all the Court was in Edron. And he isn’t comfortable sending messages to you by semaphore. I think you need have no concerns about his continued regard for you.” That got him a smile and a slightly darker blush. Good.
“The move was sudden,” Gwen said. “Morrone’s scouts said there were enemy light cavalry operating in the University area, and I decided this would be a good time to visit the Court in Edron. We hadn’t been there long when we got messages of enemy action not far away. We were making preparations to defend Edron when word came from Wanax Ganton that we were to move the entire court to Armagh at once. There was something about accepting your invitation. Didn’t he send you word at the same time?”
“No. Of course he had no way to know I’d come east. If he’d sent me a messenger at the same time he sent you orders to move, I should have got it before I left, but maybe not. Was there some immediate threat to Edron?”
“None I heard of,” Gwen said.
“Curiouser and curiouser.”
“We didn’t find it particularly curious,” Gwen said. “Morrone had lost a major battle, half the border lords had gone over to Strymon, and Strymon’s army was moving south faster than it had any right to. Tylara was captive, and you were way back west. This is the strongest fortress in the realm. Rick, I don’t see anything more sinister than simple prudence.”
“You’re probably right.” Rick nodded. “Only why didn’t he tell me when I saw him at the Ottarn? Oh, well, he’s a bloody king. He doesn’t have to.”
“And he does have a lot on his mind,” Gwen said.
“So. And you don’t find any of this odd? Everything all right with the Queen?”
Gwen shook her head.
“No, it’s not. It’s nothing I can put my finger on, but I used to be her closest friend. Now I never see her alone, and while she’s friendly enough, we never talk about anything important.”
“And all that started when you moved here.”
“Yes. And she has no reason to be suspicious of me. Or of us. Or does she?”
“None I know of.” Rick shook his head. “Is it possible it’s the other way around? She’s ashamed because she knows we have some reason to be suspicious of her. Or maybe worse, of her husband? Or her father for that matter.”
“Rick, I never thought of that,” Gwen said. “Funny, I never thought of you being more nasty suspicious than I am.”
“Didn’t used to be. Command does that to you,” Rick said. “Now what are the Romans doing here? Both of them, Publius and Lucius?”
“Damned if I know.” She shook her head. “Lucius showed up, clearly not expecting the Court to be here, hoping to see you.”
“To see me.”
“Yes. His official story was either you or the Wanax, but he didn’t make much effort to find out where Ganton might be, and he was about to set out west to Dravan when he got a message and decided to wait.”
“Message from whom?”
“I’d guess Publius. It was brought by a Second Praetorian officer.”
“Okay. So Publius sent him word to stay here and wait for him.”
“That’s certainly my guess. Rick, Lucius is friendly, and I love to chat about history with him, but he sure hasn’t let me in on any secrets.”
“Think he knows any?”
She chuckled.
“He came here for something, and since he’s been here the frumentarii have been flowing in. They may or may not see Publius, but they always spend hours with Lucius.”
“So he’s looking for me, gathering information by the ton, but he won’t talk to you.”
“Yes. Not about anything serious, anyway.”
“And Publius?”
Gwen looked away.
“He came looking for Lucius, but he knew the Queen would be here,” Gwen said. “She was surprised to see him.”
And I think she’s blushing. Curious.
“Does any of this make sense to you?”
“No.”
“Me either. Okay, it’s time to see the Queen.”
“Just you,” Gwen said. “I wasn’t invited.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
LONG LIVE THE QUEEN
The audience with Wanaxxae Octavia was formal, held in the Great Hall—his Great Hall, Rick reminded himself. Although it was now fitted out as the Queen’s receiving chamber.
The interview was short.
“Welcome, Warlord Rick,” Octavia said. “You are well?”
“Very well, Majesty,” Rick said. And I’ll keep it to myself that you’re welcoming me to my own castle. “Your M
ajesty is well?”
“Just so,” Octavia said.
“And Prince Adrian?”
“Well enough, My Lord.”
“That’s good.”
But no pleasantries, no stories about the young heir, none of the usual chatter from a young mother about her first born. No questions about Makail and Isobel, even though when they were older they would probably be sent to the royal court for their duties as page and lady apprentice. Interesting.
“Has your Majesty any estimate of how long we will enjoy her visit?” With your train of servants and courtiers eating me out of house and home. Rick had been appalled at the costs. The local treasury was nearly dry, and he would have to send money from Chelm to make up arrears in the pay of his castle guards, not to mention settling accounts with local merchants who were happy to extend him credit at exorbitant interest. It would take a lot of money . . . .
Elizabeth Tudor had used that technique, state visits to annoying subjects. They could hardly plot treason while she was there, and they generally didn’t have enough money to do anything at all after she had left. And I taught that to Ganton, and now he’s using it against me, Rick thought. Well, we’ll see about that.
“That must depend on the will of the Wanax,” Octavia said. “Now that the campaign in the north is ended doubtless he will return, but whether here or to the capital is not decided. Or not made known to me, in any event. My last instruction from the Wanax was to await him here. So I wait, My Lord. With patience.”
“To be sure, Majesty,” Rick said. With patience. With patience. By God I’ll give you patience.
The rest of the interview was much the same. She was polite, thanked him for the use of the castle, and assured him she wouldn’t keep him from his important duties.
* * *
Rick fumed as he strode to his study behind the conference room Elliot insisted on calling the Orderly Room.
“Get me Elliot,” he said to the clerk on duty. “Fast.”
“Yes, Sir!” The young local ran out, and Rick chuckled to himself. No good scaring my own people to death, but—
“First Sergeant reporting as ordered.”
“Come, in, Top.”
“Sir. Colonel, you pardon my saying so, you don’t look happy.”
“I’m not. Just how long has the Queen been putting on airs?” Rick demanded.
“Few days, Colonel. Before that she was polite as anything, apologetic about being here, offered to cover expenses.”
“She did, did she? Good. We’ll take her up on it. I want a bill for everything it cost to put her up. Prepare it and send it on to the Treasurer. Another thing. From now on, anything we requisition for the Queen or the Court, pay for it with a warrant on the Royal Treasury.”
“Can we do that?”
“I can. Sign it by order of the Warlord of Drantos.”
“Yes, Sir. Reckon the Wanax will pay? Hate to lose all the credit we’ve built up with the local merchants.”
“I don’t care. We’re abandoning this place,” Rick said. “Get ready. We’ll pull everything we have back to Chelm. Heavy weapons, mercs and their families, loyal auxiliaries, ammunition, refined product, seeds, trained madweed farmers, draft animals, plows, anything. Everything we need to set up operations in the west. Leave what you can of the madweed operations going here, and we’ll put the best local we can find in charge, just in case they can produce anything. We can use all they can grow, but I can’t count on it any longer. We’ll need a local to be castellan, too. There must be a retired old soldier you can promote. But all our mercs and their families come out. I’m not leaving anyone I care about as a hostage.”
“Jeez. Yes, Sir.”
“You’re not going to ask if I know what I’m doing?”
“Colonel, if you don’t know what you’re doing, we’re all in big trouble,” Elliot said. “Of course, I don’t know what you’re doing, but I assume the Colonel will tell me what I have to know.”
“Well, ostensibly I’m carrying out the orders of the Wanax,” Rick said. “He told me to clear the Fiver armies out of Chelm. I’ll be doing just that. My story is that I need everything I have to defeat the Fivers.”
Elliot nodded.
“Mostly, though, I don’t like the way our little King is acting, and the Queen’s attitude hasn’t made me feel better about it. And then there was something Bisso said,” Rick went on. “Got me to thinking. As long as our interest and the King’s ran together it was fine, but my first obligation is to our own troops, mercs and locals both, and it looks like a conflict coming.”
“Yes, Sir. Colonel, this is going to be expensive. Hell of a lot of transport involved.”
“I know that, Top. Do what it takes.”
“Yes, Sir, but there are priorities to worry about,” Elliot said. “You want everyone out, that’s fine, but that’s hard to do fast.”
“But if it’s not fast we may not be able to do it at all,” Rick replied. “I don’t want to disobey a direct order from the Wanax, and I’d like to get all this done before he sends one telling me not to do it.”
“Yes, Sir. What about the communicator?”
Rick frowned, puzzled by the question.
“Of course we have to take it with us.”
“Wouldn’t surprise me if the Galactics had some way to locate it. From space.”
Oh.
“I’m sure they do. But without it we don’t have any way to talk to them.”
“And with it, they know where we are,” Elliot said. “I’ll keep it close to hand, Colonel. Always do. But you do need to think about this. Wouldn’t be surprised if that’s how they know where to bomb when they’re done with us.”
Rick nodded.
“Me either. I agree we have to worry about the Galactics, but just now the Wanax is closer, and there’s something gone wrong in that relationship.”
“Just like a marriage. Yes, Sir. So the top priority is, everything and everyone out fast.”
“Correct. It’s important that the madweed crops continue to grow here, but first priority is to get everything and everyone important to us out of harm’s way before we get a direct command from the Wanax. I don’t want to be in open defiance, I just want to have our resources where I can control them.”
Elliot nodded again. His look was thoughtful. “Sir.”
CHAPTER NINE
THIS MEANS WAR?
Publius seemed genuinely glad to see him. Too glad, Rick thought. Why? Although the Romans were willing to consider star men as civilized, Rick earned little status as principal advisor to a barbarian king, even a barbarian king married to Publius’ daughter; and to Publius as to many of the Romans, status was all.
“Hail, Heir of Caesar.”
“Hail, Colonel Rick. Hail, Lord Warner. Colonel Rick, I would welcome you, friend to my father,” Publius said. “But that it is your castle, and not mine to make you welcome in. Still, welcome to whatever comforts our Roman camp can provide. Will you and your officer dine with us?”
“Thank you,” Rick said. “I think that would be well. As you say, it is my castle, but with the Queen your daughter present—”
“And acting the great lady,” Publius finished. “Yes. Doubtless on instructions from my son-in-law, who ought to know better. As should she. I am a soldier, I can’t always fathom the ways of royalty.” He sighed and shook his head. “Welcome, then. We have plain soldiers’ fare, but there is plenty of it. And we have much to discuss.”
“Thank you,” Rick said. Publius playing plain soldier and questioning royalty? I wish Tylara were here. She might understand all this.
“Lucius will join us,” Publius said. “He comes on Caesar’s orders, prepared to find you even if that required a journey to Dravan. For his sake I am glad he is spared that.”
Rick nodded. Lucius had been tutor to Publius and if there was one person in the world other than Marselius Caesar that Publius respected, it was his father’s freedman. His concern for the health of the ag
ing scholar would be quite genuine. Actually, when you thought about it, Publius was quite generous with his own people. It was his allies he tended to be suspicious of. Allies and converts from the previous Caesar . . .
“Do you know his message, then?” Rick asked.
“Yes. And we have more to add to it,” Publius said. His voice fell. “Dangerous times, Colonel Galloway. Dangerous times.” Publius nodded to Warner. “As I am sure you both know.”
Rick suppressed a grin at the pronunciation of “colonel.” It was interesting that Publius would use that title, rather than Warlord. Or Caesar’s Friend. Tylara understands these nuances. I don’t.
“Dangerous indeed, Heir of Caesar,” he said.
Two civilian servants entered without knocking. Their status would nominally be slave, Rick supposed. The Church disapproved of slavery, but Roman policy prohibited indiscriminate manumission. If you freed a slave you had to provide for him. By keeping him in slavery, you could at least get some work out of him, although the Church’s deacons were charged with preventing cruelty and overwork, and many were honest enough in carrying out that duty. Publius tended to keep elderly retainers who had been with him a long time. They would probably be miserable if he told them their service was no longer wanted. For all his faults, Publius did have some good qualities. He was certainly loyal to his subordinates.
And of course what some considered faults, others considered a mark of pride. Publius made no more secret of his conquests than had Don Juan, and while he probably didn’t have a book recording so many—Mozart’s Don Juan had a thousand and three in Spain alone!—there had been enough.
Including Gwen? Rick wondered. Why not? The thought disturbed him. But really, why not? Publius was a widower and given the number of his conquests without issue, obviously sterile. For all that Les was the father of Gwen’s first child and was possessive when he was on Tran, the Galactic pilot wasn’t really a husband and didn’t expect fidelity when he wasn’t around. Publius had certainly tried to bed Gwen. He tried with everyone. And Gwen was a modern girl who enjoyed— He pushed the thought and the uneasy feeling away. Gwen’s sex life is none of my business. If she’s managed an assignation with Publius, neither one of them is talking about it, and that’s all that matters. But to be honest it may be the main reason I don’t like him.
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