Shades of Empire (ThreeCon)

by Carmen Webster Buxton

  “What weak place?” Ostrov demanded. “Explain about the weak place in the perimeter.”

  “On the north side of the grounds the wall is only chest high with a two-meter high metal fence above it. There’s a point in the northeast corner where the fence has two loose poles. If you bypass the force field resonator by connecting the tops of the fence poles and running another loop of conducting wire through the bottoms, you can squeeze through if you’re quick enough.”

  “Why didn’t you tell us about this before?” Ostrov said angrily.

  “It wouldn’t have worked for you. If you’re too slow, the force field will kill you, and besides, you can only get one person through every minute or so. The alarm will go off if you leave the wires connected for too long. Your men would have been dead or discovered on the way in.”

  “How do you know about it then?” Karchin asked.

  “Some guardsmen used it to sneak out when they were supposed to be on call in the barracks, or to sneak back in when they were late for duty,” Alexander droned on. “I did it once.”

  “How will you get into the house?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Do you have any ideas?”

  “I’ll try to unlock the door. If they’ve changed the locks, I’ll either try to blast my way inside, climb in through one of the trash canisters, or sneak in with someone else.”

  “They know about you now,” Ostrov said. “It won’t be so easy this time.”

  Alexander didn’t reply.

  “You didn’t ask a question,” Karchin said impatiently.

  “I have a question,” Chen said. “Did you tell us the truth about Emperor Antonio’s incestuous desire for his sisters?”

  “Yes.”

  “Do you know it for a fact, or do believe what the Fitzlothar woman told you?”

  “I believe what Cassandra told me, and I know what I heard in the past about Sergei Paznowski.”

  “I think it’s safe to assume it’s true, Louis,” Chen said. “I think we should give him the weapons. It might do us some good.”

  “And what if he gets caught instead of killed?” Ostrov demanded. “He knows all our names!”

  “We’re fairly certain the Emperor’s spies know them already,” Chen said. “That’s why we went underground, isn’t it?”

  “What else does he know?” Karchin said. “Let’s think it through.”

  “He knows about the bakery, but that’s moot now,” Chen said. “And he went to meetings, but we took him there in a closed skimmer and no one used last names.”

  “I still don’t like it,” Ostrov said.

  “Let’s leave him alone until the nempathenol wears off,” Chen suggested. “In the meantime, we can discuss it and decide what to do.”

  “All right,” Ostrov said impatiently. “Let’s go, then.”

  “I’ll be there in a moment,” Chen said. “You two go ahead. I want to ask him something that has nothing to do with the raid.”

  Ostrov gave her a curious look but said nothing as he and Karchin left the room.

  Lottie Chen leaned over so that her face was quite close to Alexander’s.

  “Tell me, Alexander,” she said, a faint smile on her face. “Did you ask Cassandra Fitzlothar to go to bed with you or did she ask you?”

  “She asked me.”

  “And did you do as she asked?”

  “Yes.”

  “Did it occur to you that she might be using you for her own purposes?”

  “Yes.”

  “I see,” Chen said, smiling more broadly. “Do you love her, Alexander?”

  Alexander froze. He couldn’t speak because he didn’t know what to say. “I don’t know,” he said finally.

  “But you’re willing to die to keep her safe?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why?”

  He sat silently as his mind sorted through his answer. “Because I don’t care if I live or die. I have nothing to live for anymore, so I may as well die trying to do some good for someone.”

  Lottie Chen stood up and looked down at him a little sadly. “Poor man.”

  And then she left him alone in the dark.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Antonio du Plessis was feeling very pleased with himself as he sat at his desk in his private office. On the following day his half-sister would marry his loyal retainer, and Antonio planned to celebrate their marriage by making Cassandra suffer for her earlier stoicism. He would have to wait a day or so after the wedding, of course. No one would expect even the most devoted of retainers to invite his brother-in-law to his home on his wedding night.

  Antonio was prepared to wait. His soldiers had succeeded in restoring order in the capital, and there was more good news from the provinces, where a small rebellion had been put down. The Emperor was in a good mood.

  “Tell me, Sergei,” Antonio commanded, “how are the renovations going on your new home? Will they be completed in time?”

  His adviser stood near the only desk in the room. “Yes, Excellency. The workmen will finish this afternoon. Everything should be in place when I take Lady Cassandra home after the reception.”

  Antonio smiled. “Good. And the slut won’t be able to slip away from you, will she?”

  “Certainly not, Excellency. She has two rooms to herself but she must enter and leave them by going through my dressing room. And the locks on her doors can be programmed only by you or by myself.”

  “Excellent! What about servants?”

  “I have two, Excellency. Both of them have been with me for some time. They know better than to gossip about my affairs.”

  “All the same,” Antonio said, frowning, “you’d better sleep in Cassandra’s bed the first night. You won’t touch her, of course, but it would be as well to set the scene, so to speak.”

  “Of course, Excellency. My servants know my preferences, but they’ll assume I’ve made the marriage for political reasons and mean to consummate it at least once.”

  “As to that,” Antonio said, smiling grimly, “I’ll visit your new home on the evening after your wedding night. Did you get everything I told you to get?”

  “Yes, Excellency. It’s all there waiting for you.”

  “Even the nerve stimulator?”

  “Yes, Excellency.”

  “Good. I shall have to reward your diligence in my service, Sergei. After I’ve finished with the harlot, I’ll come out and take care of you.”

  “I shall look forward to it, Excellency.”

  Antonio smiled. Really, the man’s devotion was refreshing. “I should think you would. See that you’re ready for me.”

  “I will be, Excellency.”

  “I tell you, Sergei,” Antonio said, studying his adviser warmly, “things are looking up!”

  The new Baron Paznowski bowed. “Yes, Excellency,” he said, his tone earnest. “But don’t forget Baron’s Urquart’s warnings. The discontent in the countryside could flare into rebellion at any time.”

  Antonio waved a hand negligently. “A parcel of villagers carrying signs is no reason to worry. I’m sure that with both you and Urquart working on the problem, the rabble will soon be quelled.”

  Paznowski inclined his head. “I’m honored at your confidence in me, Excellency.”

  His emperor smiled warmly. “I depend on you for quite a lot, Sergei.”

  “You may safely do so, Excellency. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you. Nothing.”

  Passion resonated in the older man’s voice. Antonio lifted his brows. “I believe you mean it.”

  “I do mean it, Excellency.”

  Antonio turned his chair away from his desk and spread his knees. “Come here, Sergei.”

  Paznowski approached with alacrity.

  “Kneel down,” Antonio directed.

  The Baron knelt between Antonio’s legs and waited.

  Antonio curled his fingers in the other man’s hair and tilted his head back so that Paznowski looked up at him. “How is it tha
t you’re so devoted to the Imperium?”

  Paznowski’s eyes clouded in doubt. “What do you mean, Excellency?”

  “I mean how is it that you understand so well the importance of my dynasty? Not everyone does, you know. My sister Cassandra is quite heedless of it.”

  Paznowski looked revolted. “Lady Cassandra has been twice honored, Excellency. Your Father honored her mother, and you honor her. If she can’t see that, then she deserves whatever pain you inflict upon her.”

  “But why is it that you know this so well? What’s your background? Was your family noble in the past?”

  Paznowski shook his head. “No, Excellency. My father was an accountant. My mother kept house for him and took care of me and my sister and my older brothers. We always read the Court news, of course, but no one in our family had ever been to Court until your late father appointed me to my first post as his adviser.”

  “How did you ever get the job?”

  “I won a scholarship to university, Excellency. From there I was able to work my way up the ladder of public service. Your father liked my management style. He said I got things done quickly.”

  “You do indeed,” Antonio said. His curiosity was still unappeased. “But how did you come to venerate the du Plessis?”

  Paznowski took Antonio’s free hand gently in his own two hands. He kissed the back of it reverently. “Life on Gaulle can be difficult for someone like me. Before your father honored me with an appointment, I was no one. My schoolmates despised me, my brothers beat me when I was young and ignored me when I was grown, my sister wouldn’t speak to me in public, and my father never invited me to his house. It was only after the late Emperor realized my abilities that I gained anyone’s respect. Your father never liked me, but he used my talents well. You’ve done so even more. I owe the du Plessis everything that makes my life worth living.”

  Antonio tilted Paznowski’s head back farther. The adviser waited, perfectly still. Antonio bent down and kissed him delicately on the mouth.

  Paznowski let out a long sigh of delight and opened his eyes.

  “Now,” Antonio said, “`you do understand, Sergei, that you belong to me? Just like Vinnie and Cassandra, you’re mine—body and soul. I can take you whenever I like because I possess you completely.”

  “Yes, Excellency,” Paznowski said. He lifted Antonio’s hand again. This time he bestowed a delicate kiss on the palm. “Of course.”

  Antonio glanced at the time displayed on the wall and frowned. “Urquart will be here soon. Get up! Comb your hair and clean off your trousers.”

  “Yes, Excellency.”

  Just as Paznowski finished brushing the dust off his knees, the door chimed.

  “Go and let Urquart in,” Antonio said in a bored voice. “The sooner he starts talking, the sooner he’ll finish.”

  • • •

  Peter Barranca looked in the mirror and studied his medals. The memory of having done the same thing right before his own wedding almost overwhelmed the present. He wondered if he dared leave the decorations on his dresser and decided that it wasn’t worth the risk of angering Antonio du Plessis. It didn’t take much to anger Antonio.

  At least this time, Peter thought to himself as he joined the wedding party, he could stay out of the limelight and keep a close eye on Ricardo. Aunt Cyn had reported that he was doing well enough with his studies, but he showed a tendency to resort to angry outbursts when she required him to comply with the curfew his elder brother had imposed. Peter hoped his youngest sibling was merely going through the normal unrestrained emotions of adolescence, and not reacting to his elder brother’s absence.

  Peter took his place as the entire wedding party marched into the large reception hall selected for the occasion. The ceremony was both shorter and considerably more modest than Peter’s own wedding. The reception hall was nowhere near as large as the ballroom in which Peter had married Vinitra du Plessis, and fewer than half as many people were in attendance. Peter stood next to Vinitra’s chair while she watched her half-sister say her vows. The Princess’ smile hinted at complacent triumph as Lady Cassandra Fitzlothar became Lady Cassandra, Baroness Paznowski. Peter watched his wife’s fingers merrily tapping the arm of her chair, and concluded that her brother hadn’t told her his plans for their mutual sibling.

  Studying the faces of the assembled nobles, Peter knew that most of them had been both surprised and angry about Sergei Paznowski’s recent entrance into their ranks. His engagement to Cassandra Fitzlothar had exacerbated that feeling, as she had been acknowledged by her father and given noble standing at birth. She was seen as a worthy reward, and many established nobles resented her brother’s haste in giving her to Paznowski to wed. Peter hid a sneer of disgust at the thought.

  The brief ceremony concluded with an even briefer kiss, and the Emperor was the first to congratulate his adviser. Peter also went through the motions, although it seemed to him that Paznowski was reluctant to accept his handshake. The new baron looked less guarded with the other nobles who crowded around him to offer their insincere but prompt congratulations.

  There was no dancing, but an orchestra played, and servants offered trays of refreshments. Peter wondered how many of the soon-to-be-intoxicated nobles would covet the bride if they knew her brother intended to claim her himself. Lady Cassandra obviously knew what was coming. She hadn’t protested in any way during the rites, but now she was pale and quiet beside her new husband. Occasionally her eyes would stray to Antonio’s face, and the look in them could only be called despair.

  Still, Peter thought to himself, there was something else there. Behind the fear and the repulsion, something lurked behind Lady Cassandra’s eyes, some quiet emotion that she guarded well.

  “So,” Ricardo’s voice said, interrupting his reverie, “this is where you’ve been spending all your time?”

  Peter turned, smiling, and threw an arm around his brother. “Hello, Rick.”

  “Hello, Pete. How’s the little woman?”

  Peter frowned and glanced around the room. No one seemed to have overheard. “Be careful how you speak.”

  Ricardo was unrepentant. “She’s your wife, isn’t she? I suppose I can speak familiarly about my own sister-in-law.”

  “Not when her brother is the Emperor. Watch your mouth, Rick!”

  Ricardo blinked a little at the severity of his tone. “All right, all right. Cool down. I won’t say anything else.”

  “Good. Where’s Aunt Cyn?”

  “She’s over there in the corner talking to that old lady in the long blue dress.”

  Peter located the garment in question and recognized its wearer. He sighed. “Try for a little polish, can’t you? That’s the Duchess Toscano.”

  “So?” Ricardo said impishly.

  “So, she deserves a little respect. Will you try to show it to her, for my sake?”

  “Because she’s a duchess?”

  “No, because she’s old. She’s buried her husband and two of her children. If Aunt Cyn introduces you, try not to make an ass of yourself.”

  “Okay,” Ricardo said with unabated cheerfulness. “When are you going to bring your wife out to the house?”

  “Not for a while,” Peter said, trying not to sound short tempered. He found deceiving his brother to be much more of a burden than deceiving the rest of the world. “The Emperor is still rather paranoid. He doesn’t want her leaving the palace any time soon.”

  Ricardo looked suddenly solemn. “They won’t do anything more to Helena, will they?”

  “No,” Peter said, hoping very much he wasn’t lying. “Now, come along. If you behave yourself, I’ll show you the weapons room. The du Plessis have been collecting weapons for a long time and they have an extensive assortment of guns, knives, and other lethal objects.”

  Ricardo brightened. “That sounds great! Much more fun than watching people get drunk.”

  Peter cast a cynical eye around the room and had to agree with him.

  • �
� •

  Cassandra Fitzlothar Paznowski looked at the elegant nightgown laid out on her bed and felt her heart fill with despair.

  She wasn’t afraid of what would happen tonight. She wasn’t at all afraid of Sergei Paznowski unless Antonio was in the room with him.

  She looked around the bedroom at the walls of her new prison, and thought back to the rundown old farmhouse on the outskirts of Montmartre—the only place she had ever been truly happy since her mother went away.

  The door opened behind her.

  “My apologies, Lady Cassandra,” Paznowski’s voice said smoothly. “I thought you’d be ready for bed by now.”

  “Give me a few more minutes, please,” Cassandra said, looking over her shoulder.

  He bowed assent, and the door closed.

  Cassandra undressed quickly and pulled on the silky gown. She wondered if Antonio had chosen it, and shuddered at the thought. She had no illusions about why Antonio had arranged this match for her. She had figured out from the way Paznowski looked at Antonio where his affection lay, and she knew there was no question of him forcing himself on her, even without Antonio’s wrath as a deterrent.

  Tomorrow night. Antonio would come here tomorrow night—either that, or he would have his flunky bring her to him. She shuddered again, and then she hugged herself.

  She could bear it. She could bear it if it helped her get what she wanted most.

  Behind her the door opened again.

  “If you’re ready now, my dear,” Paznowski said politely, “I think we should retire.”

  “I’m ready,” Cassandra said, a little amazed that the man was going to go through with the charade to the extent of sleeping in the same bed with her.

  He waited politely for her to choose which side of the bed she preferred, and then he slipped under the covers beside her.

  “Good night, my dear,” he said punctiliously, and then he turned out the lights.

  He fell asleep quickly, but Cassandra lay awake for a long time in the darkness, thinking about Alexander and wondering where he was.

  • • •

  Peter Barranca put away his medals. He had become completely attuned to the new routine of his life. He realized he would be very surprised to find his bedroom well lit that night.