Third Chapter – Assassin
The well-disposed reader may apologise that I shall now simply skip an outrageously long time span; however he may understand that it is necessary.
No – ignore what I just said. Ignore the last sentence as well, though, for "you" are (with a probability bordering on certainty) not existent as this (what do I write for, then?) shall by my will never be read by anyone, excepting perhaps an overworked cherub on the day of the revival of all flesh and paper.
So, couldn't I just go over the next seven years in detail as well?
No, I couldn't, for several reasons – for one I remember only a few key scenes from that time (that are not important in retrospective – all the important things of that time I would have to reinvent for a detailed description. How could I then insist on authenticity?); for another that time is not of any relevance to me; it would drive me to death by boredom to write these seven event-less years of my life. Not that I will live too long after finishing this manuscript.
But wait – don't they say that the child is the father of the man? – only this I have to say about that: I lived in utter luxury up to my fourteenth year. There were no friends, nor any kind of family life: my mother, the Empress, was away almost all the time on her quest to return Britannia to being a good neighbour on our planet, as it had last been at the time of her grand-grandfather, Henry XII the Good. Often she travelled to Japan, often to China and Europe, she was the first Britannian monarch since Elizabeth III to visit the British isles. Zero, her dark knight, followed her around the globe.
Although, that I knew, my grandfather Charles III had fathered over a hundred children, of them beside mother only the demon Lelouch – who was, according to common knowledge, killed by Zero shortly afterwards – as well as Prince Schneizel and Princess Cornelia survived the destruction of Pendragon. I never had much contact to Cornelia, especially after the civil war had broken out and she had taken command of our front army. Concerning Schneizel – well, I would have been more than happy to cut all contact with him.
My life as the Crown Prince brought a lot of amenities – yet a lot of media hype as well. Often it would seem to me as though the people had no other topics to inform about than the Imperial Family. At first it was quite bemusing; yet when a reporter broke into my playroom and the next day a complete, well-pictured list of my toys was on the front-page of a republican tabloid, the head of the Guard and my mother decided that not only the security would be enforced but also that I would be shut of from the media. Up to today there are next to no photos of me and even my entry in the infamously extensive Encyclopædia Britannica Online contains only a very succinct description of my childhood and youth. Excepting two official portraits there are no photos at all.
Nonetheless, back to topic. I stopped at the rebellion of Charles IV.
Following that – after the murder of the Black Knights and the guardsmen by the men of Charles Wellesley-Beaufort's Southern Division XI – the anti-emperor showed his talent. With the support of the Patriot Party, who were especially strong in the south of the realm (as already mentioned), and the garrisons and units scattered across this area and joined him after a demonstration of his power, Charles IV conquered first all of Brazil up to the Amazon, then the Grand Duchies of Paraguay and Plate River. All that took only a few weeks: the rebellion began January 4, 2026 – February 26, 12am, the rebels controlled all the land from the snowy peaks of the Andes up to the Atlantic, all the land from the wild Amazon to stormy Cape Horn.
Princess Cornelia moved two armies to the Amazon and the same number of fleets to the South Atlantic; prepared a reconquest.
This was the beginning of a long, bloody war that would make history as the Second Britannian Civil War – the first had been the war of succession or "The Anarchy" between Stephen of Blois and Empress Maud from 1190 to 1209 a.t.b..
Naturally a genius like Charles IV, a second Napoleon, could not stop at such "insecure" borders: he examined a map of South America, then he led his armies and his Knightmares through snow and ice across the Andes, taking Chile, Peru and south-western New Granada in a surprise coup. Alarmed – obviously he had underestimated the threat – Prince Schneizel introduced conscription in Area Three and created four new armies. Such an operation could of course not be kept secret from the enemy and thus – to create a favourable front line before the fresh troops would arrive – Charles rushed his men up north in forced marches, until he and his advance party met the Realm's XIX and XXI Armies near Bogotá.
Charles himself barely had an army, poorly equipped and exhausted – but the advance guard that met the foe first did not only chiefly consist of modern Knightmares of the types Vincent Ward and Gareth, but was also commanded by himself.
To make a long story short: the North was completely defeated. Charles – here it may be justified to ignore the soldiers in favour of an ingenious leader – inflicted more than twenty thousand casualties on the Realm; captured more than a thousand Knightmare Frames. What hurt even more, however, were the territories he had thus taken: all of New Granada – Charles IV now was the unquestioned ruler of all of Area Six, the whole of South America, and he had won it in mere three months. My mother fell to deep depressions, she deemed peace lost forever.
The survivors retreated to Panama, thereto where Central America was the narrowest. There they joined up with the three fresh armies; the Army Group South was created. Yet the fear of Charles had grown in the North and thus not only one, not two but three Knights of the Round were send to the front: the Knight of Nine, Sir Lance Fisher, the Knight of Twelve, Sir Percy Fitzgerald and Lord Gino Weinberg, Knight of Three out-of-service left, albeit uncalled, his partner and children in Tokyo to place his services at the realm's disposal again.
There is a small anecdote that Colonel Kozuki of the Order of the Black Knights – said partner – chased him out of their flat with her Guren after he had revealed his plans to leave her. As far as I know it is true.
Princess Cornelia herself took command at the front – the main reason for me barely knowing her. Indeed she managed to take war back to Area Six, but soon she had to retreat again as supplies came to a halt. Famines sprung up in Columbia and Panama because both sides' soldiers had to supply themselves from the fruits of the land.
Let's take stock.
The Holy Britannian Empire had lost the whole of South America within mere three months – all the land south of the river Chuqunaque along with millions, no, billions of subjects and invaluable resources. Britannia had lost a quarter million of its best and supplies amounting to thirty-four billion Pound Sterling. Aside from the fighting, half a million people had perished from malnutrition, disease and collateral damage.
For the first time since the Humiliation of Edinburgh Britannia had to ask for help from outside. In an emotional, heart-breaking speech to the Supreme Council of the UFN (commonly abbreviated SC-UNIFON), Nunnally renewed Britannia's request to the organisation. Despite the support of Lord Zero, the Empress of China and Secretary Sumeragi the motion was shot down. The anti-Britannian sentiment from the time of Charles III and Lelouch still sat deep. Her Majesty was completely devastated as last after her brother's death (or so they say; I was not there).
On the Corcovado in Rio de Janeiro the monumental statue "Lelouch Imperator Conquistor" was erected.
In September there were heavy delays in supplying the North's troops due to Patriot attacks on support lines. Cornelia gorily put down a hunger insurgency and imposed martial law on Area Three.
In December 2027 a.t.b., then, not one of the generals turned the tide, but a semi-crazy scientist at Yale: Lord Lloyd Asplund, the eccentric inventor who had developed the Lancelot and most other Britannian seventh-generation Knightmares now created – within a few days after having been given the request – the Parceval; a mass-production combination of the almost legendary Knightmares Tristan Divider and Lancelot Conquista. Mass-production started the same month and soon Cornelia managed to go into offensive again – the front moved a few dozen kilometres south.
Sadly I shall have to skip the next six years without a commentary – war raged on; but I can not speak about it. A child as I was did of course know of the fact and saw the omnipresent hints – on the roofs of the palace anti-air and anti-missile ordnance was erected, more Knightmares and guards than usual patrolled the area and once or twice there had even been cruisers and destroyers of the Imperial Navy lying in sight of the summer palace in the Atlantic. Nonetheless the war barely touched a prince of eight years; it was too far away. Nor did I know anyone who could have told me about the suffering at the front-lines – the guardsmen all came directly from the renominated military academies, I did not have any friends (as already told) and Princess Cornelia, who suffered with her men like an Alexander or Napoleon, I rarely ever saw. There was no one able to tell of that time later as well, albeit many had lost their fathers in the war. Nor had the men and women I should later serve with been present in the first chaotic years.
Never mind.
The one event I have to tell of – for it was the beginning of my life – happened on April 15 in the year 2033 of Eowyn and was, seen alone, truly no reason for happiness.
Her Majesty The Empress – my mother – besides her countless other duties used to give weekly audiences for all those not possessing the treasured peerage privilege of imperial access. At those audiences she would listen to pleas, claims and problems of the common people; make propositions for a peaceful solution and promise to make up for past wrongs.
On that day was such an audience. The Empress mediated two neighbourhood disputes, ordered a court to carry out a case another time and pardoned two criminals. A young man stepped forth; his clothes and the sabre on his side identified him as a nobleman. Nobles possessed the privilege of direct access to the Empress at any time.
My mother dismissed the young woman that had called unto her for the sake of her brother with a regal kiss on the forehead, then she smiled at the young noble. The man was trembling, he was pale.
The nobleman's hand moved into his overcoat, pulled out a gun, pointed it at the Empress and fired twice. Then he put the weapon to his own brow and pulled the trigger.
Loud screams, the guards by Nunnally's side jumped before their liege to protect her (too late of course). Zero charged at the assassin and took the gun from him; admittedly he was almost dead already.
Blood soaked the dress of the Empress, unconsciously she fell from her wheelchair.
Suite 512, Palace Hotel, Mexico City, Area Three, Holy Britannian Empire
22nd of April 2033 a.t.b.
Gottwald and Zero interrupted their chat and rose when the Princess and Groomy entered. Asplund remained seated, but gave his former assistant a smile.
"At ease, gentlemen."
Cornelia looked around the room before joining the men at the grand, round conference table. High windows, stucco decorations, a decidedly too neo-baroque fresco on the ceiling. Ancient furniture in the style of King William III; flower arrangements. She sat down, directly across Zero, next to Gottwald. Her black leather briefcase she put to the floor.
"How's Her Majesty?" the knight quietly inquired.
For a moment Cornelia thoughtfully continued to observe the fruit basket before her. Then she responded without looking at the knight. "Not well. The doctors say she'll make it, but Nunnally lost a lot of blood … an awful lot. Perhaps there will be permanent damages ..." She trembled. "How can one do such a thing … to shoot a young girl in a wheelchair in cold blood? Nunnally really didn't deserve this ..."
Jeremiah refrained from reminding the princess that her soldiers committed similar atrocities on a daily basis according to the secret memorandums. Though even if it was so, he understood and felt with her.
He gave a slight cough, then stiffly rose.
"I'm glad to have all of you here," he baldly, but honestly greeted. It was still weird to see how different the people gathered around him here were – after all, that was what the Zero Requiem meant.
"Surely all of you are informed about last week's events. Lord Zero and Lady Cornelia have both carried out detailed investigation on the recent attack on Her Majesty … please, Cornelia."
"Thank you, Jeremy," Cornelia replied, staying seated, as she took a sheet of narrowly printed paper out of her case
"Our search has given the following: the assassin was a certain Neville Beauvais, a baron. 25 years old, a good family and education. Studied cultural anthropology at the University of Pennsylvania and finished with a good MA … nothing unusual so far. Except for a few parking tickets, he had no conflicts with the police … however, the OSI had a file on him for some time because he had contacts in Rio. He was a spy of the South and only still free because we were searching for accomplices."
"How was he then allowed to the audience? I thought all participants had to identify themselves?," Cecile inquired. Lloyd see-sawed back and forth in his armchair, playing with a pencil he had found somewhere in his obligatory lab coat.
"We noticed that as well," Cornelia affirmed and ducked when Lloyd sent his pencil flying with terrible aim. "So we reviewed the security cameras from the lobby of the audience hall again and questioned the guards. Beauvais had, as it seems, no ID with him, only a card identifying him as a nobleman. The guards did their job and told him to leave and come back next week. Just in that moment, however, one of Her Majesty's highest-ranking bodyguards came strolling by and said that he knew the man and he should just go in – Sir Gavin Hamley, the Knight of Four."
Surprise and even horror showed on the faces of the others. Zero kept silent.
"But … but that's a blatant lie!," Gottwald bristled. "My Knights of the Round have vowed by their honour to protect Her Majesty!"
Lloyd anticipated Cornelia's answer. Being a scientist with heart and soul he gave a cool, objective analysis. "But not all men are as chivalric as you, Orenji-kun. And the Knights of the Round are chiefly members of the peerage – people friendly to the goals of the south. You caught yourself some really special knights – omedetto!"
Embarrassed silence; Lloyd was right.
"But if Hamley really is a traitor … Her Majesty's life's in utter danger …" Gottwald murmured.
"Even worse. Lord Zero and I are quite certain that there's more than one knight behind the attack – Sir Gino Weinberg, Sir Lance Fisher and Sir Percy Fitzgerald might be at the front fighting one skirmish after another with their rivals from the South, but even they're not necessarily innocent. Then we have Sir Gavin Hamley, Lady Vivian Spencer, Lady Elaine DeWitt, Lady Alstreim and you, Jeremiah – you're without doubt innocent."
"Thanks. I can vouch for Anya" Jeremiah added. "The girl lives at mine; she hasn't touched a Knightmare for years nor shown the slightest interest in politics."
Cornelia grimly nodded, took up Lloyd's flying pencil and crossed out one of the names on her list. "Only six suspects, then."
"Bad enough. One only needs one to slay Her Majesty … even two false knights would be a catastrophe of unforeseen scale. The mass of information they must have passed those cowardly traitors in the South by now ..."
"That'd explain some of the ambushes my men had to fight," Cornelia added. "I shall try and see which of the three knights under my command has betrayed us and Nunnally. At last I can trust in my staff ..."
They silenced.
"It might be right to attack the problem at it's root," sounded then Zero's deep and warped voice. Cornelia, Jeremiah and Cecile shot the dark knight a confused look, they had not expected him to talk. "But the solution will take a lot of time. Until then we'll have to take measures for the safety of the Imperial Family. Other than that I don't believe the Knights of the Round would betray Nunnally – certainly it was a lone assassin. Sir Hamley will have helped him only out of pity, he's a good man ..."
"That's enough, Zero!," Cornelia interrupted him sharply and rose in anger. "I can't listen to that whining any longer. We can't be careful enough, you of all people should know how easily an assassination can be done, how fast some … knights betray their masters!"
Calming her, Jeremiah put his hand on the princess's forearm and reluctantly she sat down.
"No matter whether the Knights of the Round are traitors or not," he said once all of them had calmed down, "I've had been thinking for quite some time that they – no matter how apt at piloting – are no longer able to protect Her Majesty."
"Ah, but who else shall?," Lloyd asked, smiling, leaning forward interestedly. "The Guard alone will certainly not be enough ..."
Jeremiah laughed, looked around his allies in amusement and wonder. "Isn't that obvious? The Knights of the Round are no longer able to fulfil every wish of Her Majesty and protect her against any kind of danger – no one who does not know can." Jeremiah rose, spreading his arms. "And thus it shall not be the Knights of the Round's to protect Her Imperial Majesty – they shall only be her sword. It is us who have to be her shield. It is us who have to build upon her trust, have to take influence on her rule to fulfil our tasks … Justice. Peace. A gentle world … no. We can not, we shall not allow the Knights of the Round or any other noble warmongers get influence on the realm."
Zero rose and silently left the suite. The others' looks followed him till the door had closed behind him.
Jeremiah cleared his throat and sat down again. "Well, he'll get over it ..."
"But don't we already have the court under our control?," Cecile now asked, "Schneizel obeys Zero and Nunnally's on our side ..."
Cornelia affirmed. "But the court's not only our people. Parliament is becoming mightier, being naughty – father always had the chambers in his grasp, but Nunnally's too nice for that. She will – and does – leave the Lords and Commons their will … and at the moment both Houses are favourable to the South. I can not defend our border with the South, let alone continue the war, if I don't have access to the pool of conscripts and the Houses don't give me money for their equipment."
Awkward pause.
"Well then," Cecile eventually said. "But what shall we do now? The Empress is still in utter danger. Shan't we rather have her disappear for a while?"
"I would not bother too much about Nunnally for now," Cornelia reasoned. "The Guard seems to think of it as their fault. To regain their honour, they'll closely watch Nunnally from now on. Furthermore, the summer palace at New Haven Shire was built by Elizabeth III with ease of defence in mind. It's as good as impenetrable. Also, she's got Zero – and even if we had to, we could not move Nunnally. She's got far too many duties and her condition's too bad right now. No, I'd rather worry about her son, Faramond."
"I guess you're right," Jeremiah affirmed. "A child is far easier to kidnap or attack than a grown lady in a wheelchair. He is not guarded as well as Her Majesty and also a better hostage: the Empire's lost without him because it would fall to Schneizel. Perhaps we should have him disappear for a while?"
April 22, 2033 a.t.b., Princess Cornelia, Zero, Jeremiah Gottwald, Lloyd Asplund and Cecile Groomy met in a hotel room in Mexico City and decided to send me to the Californian orange plantation of Lord Gottwald in reaction to the latest events. And that is the exact reason why I still feel some slight gratitude for the man who only slightly missed my mother's life.