CHAPTER ONE
The Enemy Of My Enemy
SOCIUS, MARTELL (C.Y. 253 – 300)….Despite his attractive personality, and the undoubted increase in material prosperity that accompanied the first half of his rule as Prime Minister, Martell Socius' position in Galvenian history is an unenviable one. Not only did his death (q.v.) bring tensions between Galvenia, Zion and Varaldia to a crisis point, but his foreign policy led to the eventual collapse and disintegration of the Liberal Unionists over the next decade. Recent historical research has suggested, however, that he was far from the unconcerned progressive that Royalist propaganda often portrays…
ENCYCLOPEDIA GALVENICA, 24th Edition, C.Y. 347
"Good work, men," the voice rang out, arrogant in its harshness, echoing through the now-silent halls of Deck A of the Paradiso. "I don't know about you scrubs, but this is one of my proudest moments as a member of the Zion Army."
"Aye, Lieutenant", two men's voices – more subdued, but still confident – replied. "Those 'Cutthroats' are no match for the defenders of the Valtemond Dynasty. I wonder if there are any of them left. Huang from Deck C says their toy boats are dead in the water."
"Quiet, you fools!" a voice hissed, low and menacing. Instantly, the three speakers fell silent, and looked up at their commanding officer, Lieutenant-Colonel Shimura of the 6th Imperial Battallion. "We need to find the Prince, before you start dancing like a passel of girls!"
"Wilhelm, Schmilhelm," the first speaker said, cockily, stepping towards Shimura. "The Pink Panthers will take care of him. Even those sissy-boys could easily handle a handful of pirates." The two men with him laughed at his description of Wilhelm's personal guards, who were universally loathed by the regular regiments for having a "soft job".
"Shut up, Metzger," Shimura replied, curtly. "The Guard of Honour may need help, and we're going down there. Do you understand?"
"Yes, sir," Captain Metzger replied. "Come with me, you two lunkheads, and look sharp. I wonder if the Pink Panthers have turned tail and run. Or perhaps they're still standing there, frozen with fear at the sound of a gunshot or two."
"Well, if that's the case, go and thaw them out, Metzger," Shimura said, with a cold smile on his face. "If they're too scared, sing them a lullaby in that parade-ground baritone of yours."
Loud laughter greeted this suggestion as Metzger and his two privates headed in the direction of the Crown Prince's chambers…
xxx
"I'm sorry, Mr. Regale," Lieutenant John Reckland said, walking away from the radio terminal, which remained silent except for the odd burst of static. "There's no further news. I can only repeat what we know, and what the Admiralty has confirmed. The Naval High Command at Lorean intercepted a distress call on a Zion wavelength, claiming that the Paradiso was dead in the water and had been boarded by pirates."
"And the Commonwealth?" Sigmund Regale said hoarsely. His hands were twitching, and the veins on his forehead were beginning to stand out. By King Richard, I need a drink, he thought. "Is there any news from the Naval Authority?"
"None so far, Sir. As soon as we received the news, we notified the Commonwealth ships that patrol the Zion-Galvenia waters, and they are mounting a rescue expedition. But until now, we have heard nothing from them."
"Well – thank you, Lieutenant," Sigmund said, as he emerged from the Naval Information Bureau at Serin's Peak Naval Shipyard, and looked out across the sea helplessly. "You've been very helpful. Please inform me as soon as you learn anything further."
"Mr. Regale," Reckland said, quietly, "was there anyone – on that ship? A family member? A friend?"
Sigmund shook his head. "A family friend," he said, so softly that Reckland had to strain to hear him. "I'd best be on my way home, Lieutenant. Good day – and thank you for your service."
"Thank you, sir," Reckland replied, saluting before he returned to his post inside the Bureau.
This – cannot be happening, Sigmund thought, as he stood seemingly fixed to the spot where the Lieutenant had left him. There must be someone I can ask – something I can do. And even if it costs me, I'm willing to pay the price.
Not for myself. I gave up on myself long ago, and I can hardly summon up even a little sympathy for an old acquaintance like Theodore.
Not for me. For Lavie.
xxx
"Wake up, young man." The tone of the voice made it clear that it was a command, but not a threat. "You have some explaining to do."
Ryan Eramond shook his head, and opened his eyes, staring uncomprehendingly at the man in uniform before him.
"Colonel?" It was the only word that came to his mind, though his eyes were telling him that this was clearly not Colonel Whitworth's gym. His shoulder throbbed with pain, and he was unable to open one eye.
"Well, aren't you a clever boy," Lieutenant-Colonel Shimura said, softly. "Metzger, help the boy stand. I need to question him."
"Where – am I?" Ryan stammered, and then – with all the intensity and immediacy of a flash of lightning – it came back to him. He shuddered, and tried to take stock of his surroundings.
The pirates…
Captain Blackheart…
I…shot. Killed. I killed him…I'm a killer….Just like Juno. A killer….
No, I can't think about that. I don't want to think about that. I only did what I…
"Carranya!" The word burst from him involuntarily, before he could even realize that he was speaking out loud. "C – where is she? Where am I?"
"Carranya?" Captain Metzger said, shaking his head. "Great Caledonia, Shimura, the boy's delirious. Probably been conked on the head. Shall I call in the medic?"
"No, Metzger, I think he's speaking quite lucidly," Shimura replied. "Get up, boy."
Ryan struggled to his feet, and found to his horror that his hands were cuffed, and that he was chained to a wall of the room – which seemed to be an officer's quarters.
"Good. Now, listen to me, son. I'm Lieutenant-Colonel Shimura, 6th Imperial Battalion. I'm going to tell you what I think happened, and you're going to answer. If you tell the truth, you have nothing to fear. After all, our countries are allies." He smiled – a thin, forced smile – and then sat down in an armchair, facing Ryan. The man named Metzger stood to one side, carrying his rifle.
"Your name is Ryan Eramond – I have your ticket, by the way. You are a passenger from Deck E, who boarded at Davenport and is bound for Caledonia. What is your errand?"
"I – I work for my father," Ryan said, slowly. "He asked me to deliver a package to Caledonia."
"Yes, that's right," Metzger said, holding a large, paper-wrapped parcel in one large hand.
"Were you travelling alone?" Suddenly, Ryan was aware of a bright light shining on the wall opposite him – a light that brought tears to his eyes.
"Yes…"
Metzger pushed him roughly, and he fell to one knee.
"Now, that's not correct, boy. You were in a double room. Who shared that room with you?"
"I had – a business associate," Ryan said, closing his eyes. "She missed the boat, and I sailed alone."
"Hmph. A likely story. Have you ever met Martell Socius, Prime Minister of Galvenia?"
"What?" Ryan exclaimed.
"Oh, we have our sources, boy. Metzger, stand by in case he needs a little – encouragement."
"Roger, Colonel," Metzger said, giving Ryan a hard look.
"Let me recapitulate. You and another man – I presume it was your 'business associate' – were contacted by Martell Socius less than a week ago. What a fool. I didn't know Socius picked greenhorns to do his dirty work. You sailed alone, and you made contact with the girl. We found both of you near the stairwell to Deck A; she was awake and sobbing, and you had passed out. Who is she, Eramond?" The last few words were hissed.
"Her name is Carrie Lind…" Ryan began, only to receive a buffet from Metzger.
"Pitiful. As a loyal Galvenian, do you not recognize your future ruler, Princess Carranya – Gerius – Elizabeth – Alexandra Lionheart?" Shimura replied, pausing carefully between each name. "What were you doing on this ship? Tell me the truth. It is the only thing that can save you now."
"I swear," Ryan said helplessly, "I did not know she was on the ship. I met her quite by accident…" And, hardly drawing a breath, Ryan unburdened himself of the entire tale – his chance encounter with Carranya, his quixotic attempt to shield her, and the desperate fight with Blackheart's pirates – hardly aware of what he was saying, wishing only that the light would be turned off, and that Metzger's grip on his aching arm would loosen.
Shimura listened to him with a thoughtful expression on his face, then made a sign to Metzger, who let go of Ryan as soon as he had finished. "You're telling the truth, boy," he said, at the end. "Either that, or you're a master storyteller. For what it's worth, I believe you. Infinity help you both, though. Especially that silly young woman. Her sense of timing is deplorable." He shook his head. "What did she think she was going to achieve? She wouldn't even have come close to meeting the Emperor."
"Carranya is not…" Ryan began indignantly, but the look in Shimura's eyes told him to keep his peace.
"At any rate, for the moment, you are under our custody, Ryan Eramond. Metzger, release him. We will allow you to return to your room, and you will receive the necessary medical attention. As for the Princess – well, Eramond, I may have failed to protect the Crown Prince, but rest assured that I shall watch over her with the utmost care."
Ryan nodded, unsure what to say.
"One last thing, Eramond. Your 'business partner', who conveniently missed the boat – what was her name?"
"Lavie – I mean, Lavender Regale," Ryan replied, tonelessly.
"Ah, Regale." Shimura repeated the surname as if he were taking a sip of fine wine, then nodded. "I see. Well, Eramond, don't worry about the Princess. You've done what you could, and that's quite impressive – for a Galvenian." He smiled.
"Can I – speak to her?" Ryan said, softly.
"In good time, Eramond," Shimura replied calmly. "Metzger, take the boy to his room, leave two of your men at his door, and come back. This is an unholy mess, and all I can do is keep it from getting messier. Permission to leave."
"Yes, sir," Metzger said, as he and his men led an unprotesting Ryan back to his room. He looked at them hopefully, but their faces were inscrutable. One thought alone came to his mind.
Carranya...Carranya, I will see you again. I will protect you.
xxx
"Courage, Your Majesty," Lady Rochelle Anton said, gently. "All is not lost yet. We have no idea where the Princess might be, but God will bring her back to you."
Queen Katarina dried her eyes, dabbing at them delicately with her lace-edged handkerchief, and shook her head. "That's kind of you, Rochelle," she said. "It would be easier if His Majesty showed some concern – but, to look at him, you'd think the Princess had already been found, or worse…."
"That she did not matter to him? Do not say that, Your Majesty," Lady Anton replied. She was a distant relation of the King's, but there was little love lost between them – King Arlbert found her constant moralizing wearisome, and she felt the same about his incessant gaming and womanizing. However, she was one of the long-suffering Queen's greatest supports, and hence enjoyed a comfortable – if somewhat precarious – existence in Lorean Castle. "We are women, and the ways of men are different from ours. Our role is not to judge, but to endure and have faith in the Infinity."
"You are right," the Queen replied, her voice still unsteady. "My good Rochelle, I don't know what I would do without you."
"Probably a lot more work, and a lot less silly chattering," the King said as he entered all of a sudden, sweeping aside the curtains at the door of the Queen's chamber and laughing loudly. "What are you two women caterwauling about now?"
"We were merely praying for the Princess' safe return, Your Majesty," Lady Anton said icily.
"Oh, is that so?" King Arlbert said, finding this remark hilarious. "Well, your ladyship, if she's anything like her dear father, she would certainly be out with a young man. In a sense, I blame you and Katarina. You've converted this Palace into an Itarian nunnery, and Carranya is my child, after all. There was only so much she could take." He beamed at Katarina, who winced.
"My king," she said, in a strained voice, "are you certain that some misfortune has not befallen her?"
"Misfortune, faugh," King Arlbert replied, chuckling to himself. "Didn't Trask and his men find clear evidence of her having left the Palace of her own accord? I only hope the young man isn't a commoner. That would be so annoying, especially to my prim and proper Queen." He placed one large hand over her head, seemingly unconcerned by the way she shrank from him, and began to laugh again. "But Carranya's my girl, Katarina, and not yours. It's probably a nice Count or a young Earl. Whoever it is, I take my crown off to him. What a bold young pup…."
"Your Majesty!" Lady Anton interrupted, unable to contain her outrage. "Please remember that we are speaking of the future Queen of Galvenia…"
"Oh, yes, it's unfortunate that Katarina never had a son," Arlbert replied mercilessly, brushing her aside with a dismissive gesture of his other hand. "And there's that troublesome bit about legitimacy, isn't there?" He roared with laughter. "Well, enjoy yourself, my precious Sob Sisters. Just don't say too many prayers, or the Infinity might lose his patience with you both. And now, to upbraid that fool Socius! Ah, when all is said and done, it's good to be King!" Still laughing into his beard, he swept out of the chamber.
"Heaven help us," Queen Katarina whispered, pale-faced. "What if – Rochelle, what if the King was right? What if Carranya has…" She dared not put her thought into words.
Lady Anton patted the Queen's hand soothingly. "Take courage, my Queen," she replied. "God would never permit such an evil thing to happen."
xxx
"Lavie!" The voice broke in on her thoughts – an interruption that was both welcome and unwelcome. Welcome because anything was preferable to thinking about….that; unwelcome because there is a certain luxury in misery, as long as one's own life is not threatened. "Long time since I've seen you down at the beach! Are you looking for shells too?"
"Hi, Viola," Lavender Regale replied, still looking out at the sea. "Shells? I – I wish it was that simple, you know."
"Are you worrying about the Paradiso?" Viola Benise said, walking closer to her, and Lavie winced. "All I can say is that it's lucky you weren't on that ship. Pirates – I don't know why some people think they're so romantic! They're criminals." She shuddered.
"Could we please talk about something else?" Lavie said, shaking her head. "I'm sorry, Viola – I'm not the best of company right now."
"This is about Ryan, isn't it?" Viola replied, looking at Lavie sympathetically. "I saw his mother and father heading to Serin's Peak a little earlier today. I'm – sorry. I know that sounds lame, but I mean it."
"Thanks, Viola," Lavie replied, forcing herself to smile. "I suppose – I shouldn't worry. After all, there's nothing I can do. It's funny, isn't it?"
"What is, Lavie?" Viola said, softly.
"I mean, look at me! People look at me and say, "Oh, Lavie Regale. She has money and everything money can buy!" Maybe that's true, Viola, but that's not who I am! I'm not Miss Commonwealth Dollars, or Miss Regale Enterprises! God, I wish – I'd give it all up, honestly, if only – if only Ryan were back here…." She covered her face with her hands, and Viola said nothing, but remained beside her, looking at the sunset.
"Lavie," she said, after a little while, "why don't we go back home? It's getting late, and I'm sure your folks will be worrying about you. Come, I'll walk with you, if you want."
"That's nice of you," Lavie said softly. "Tell me, Viola –"
"Yes?" Viola said, looking up at her with a smile.
"Never mind," Lavie said, looking back at her and shaking her head again. "Come on, let's head home. You're probably right. If only it was easier to…"
"Lavie?" Viola looked at her with concern.
"To stay at home," Lavie said, looking down.
A look of understanding came over Viola's face, but she said nothing as they both walked back to Casa Regale.
xxx
"Good morning, Trask. I trust that all is well?"
Silas Trask, Chief of Palace Security, looked up at his interlocutor with annoyance. A man of humble origins, who ascribed his position to hard work and intelligence, he was always irked by nobles – especially those who looked like they had just climbed off one of the oil paintings in the Queen's chamber, and had the flamboyant costumes to match.
"Quite well, Sir Prescott," he replied, with a cursory salute – a gesture of veiled disrespect that could hardly be lost on the young Commander of Galvenia's elite land troops, the Rough Riders. "And to what do we owe the pleasure of this visit?"
"As a loyal subject of the King, Trask, I must keep him informed of the state of our troops," Sir Prescott Chuselwock replied. "It is perhaps unexciting work compared to yours, but it must be done."
Trask glared at him. By now, the news of Princess Carranya's escape was common knowledge among the Army and the Police – though an official story of illness had been circulated to the Press, and a public announcement postponing her coming-of-age celebration had been made in every town of Galvenia. Though Arlbert was taking the matter calmly enough, the Queen and that fussbudget of a Prime Minister were a different proposition. He was on dangerous ground, and Prescott's barbs did not make him any less uncomfortable. "You are right, Sir Prescott," he said, calmly. "If you wish to see the King, he is in the Throne Room with Prime Minister Socius and Minister of the Interior Fairfax. They are waiting for you, I'm sure."
"Thank you, Trask," Sir Prescott said, with a broad smile, as he sauntered into the Palace.
I have to think fast, Trask thought to himself, looking with irritation at Sir Prescott's receding figure. Every problem can be tackled at two ends. That's what old Foley always taught us in the Policemen's Academy. The question of where Carranya is, I leave to the official police. But finding out how she escaped, and who helped her – that is my chance to redeem myself, and to please my masters.
Suddenly, he smiled.
And I know just the men to help me. Now to send a quick telegram.
xxx
The next few days were, to use a vulgar phrase, a "mad blur" in the minds of many in Galvenia and Zion, as they were bombarded with information that shocked, surprised and confused them.
The Paradiso had been found by Zion ships. No, it was Commonwealth ships who were mounting the rescue. Prince Wilhelm was dead. The ship had been attacked by the Varaldian army. No, by pirates taking advantage of the laxity of the Commonwealth Naval Authority. Princess Carranya had been found with a young nobleman aboard the ship. No, she had been abducted. Carranya had been rescued and was being taken to Caledonia. No, she was in Lorean Castle, receiving medical care for her wounds.
Amidst all this din – the mourning of the Zion Empire, the rejoicing in Galvenia, and the outraged protestations of innocence from the Varald Directorate – the Commonwealth Executive Council was finding it hard, very hard, to remain a voice for reason.
The fact that their President-Elect had, like Wilhelm, been assassinated aboard his ship did not help matters in the least. They had been in session for over three hours, and nothing constructive had emerged.
"My brothers," Lord Lucan was saying – though no one, except the dour Archbishop Mazarus of Itaria was truly paying attention – "we must not lose our heads. First of all, there is the matter of the Presidency of the Commonwealth. Can we not vote on this, before moving on to the – ahem – painful affair of the Paradiso?"
"Vote away, Lucan," Commissioner Jansen of Varaldia said irritably, lighting his pipe with unsteady hands. "As I have already told you, Terrin Hipper is the President. If you wish to acknowledge this, please do so. It is not the Directorate's fault that the Zion Elite Corps is so poor at protecting their President-Elect. And as this sordid Paradiso affair shows, your attempt to assign blame to us is futile! You should be seeking means to curb these pirates, who act with impunity and strike without fear."
Viceroy Kanoi of Zion suppressed – with great difficulty – an overwhelming urge to punch his Varaldian colleague on the nose. A burly, moustached nobleman, he had been a noted pugilist in his youth, so this was no idle wish. But he was under orders from the Zion Emperor, Charlemagne – received earlier that day through a telegram – to accept defeat on the issue of the Presidency, and he merely grunted.
"Let us have the vote, then," Lucius Mazarus said placatingly. "The proposition is this: Whether Terrin Hipper, runner-up in the Commonwealth Presidential Election, is approved as President by the Council after the untimely death of the winner, Junzio Koketsu of Zion. Representative Jedda, would you begin?"
Jedda of the Fulton Republic laughed. He was a young man – youngest on the Council, and the son of a plutocrat from Jadeed who, it was whispered, had made his fortune through far from legal means. From his father, he had inherited not just his wealth, but his irreverent sense of humour. "Well, gentlemen, to me this is a simple proposition. A headless chicken is worse than a chicken with a head. If the Varald will promise to keep Hipper alive, and not let some pirate assassinate him as well, then I accept. Otherwise, we might as well nominate one of those pirates to lead us. They are certainly efficient, and efficiency is not something the Commonwealth is known for."
Mazarus, despite his age and gravity, had to stifle a laugh, but Kanoi and Jansen glared at him. Jedda, unconcerned, went on. "To cut a long story short, gentlemen, I accept. My good Archbishop, what about you?"
"I oppose this motion myself, Representative Jedda," Mazarus said, firmly. "Some people think the Varald should be treated with kindness and consideration. But it would be a sin against the Infinity to support having another of them as president, especially after the religious repressions that Miller enshrined…"
"Repressions?" Jansen broke in angrily. "Miller guaranteed freedom of conscience to all, and your prattle cannot change that! Does your Infinity not teach you not to lie, Mazarus?"
"I have said what I will say," Mazarus said, meeting his glare with a steady, determined expression, and folding his arms. "Lord Lucan, it is your turn to speak."
"Galvenia abstains," Lucan replied, seating himself slowly and deliberately at the Council's table. "The situation is complex, and Prime Minister Socius is seeking clarifications from experts in Commonwealth Law. We have no objection in principle, but we do not want to be party to anything illegal."
"Typical Galvenia," Mazarus muttered under his breath. "Afraid to stand up for their beliefs, but willing to fall for anything."
"Do not grumble, Mazarus," Jedda joked. "Imagine if Bryans had become President. Commissioner Jansen, we assume that you approve. Am I right?"
"You are," Jansen said, curtly.
"That only leaves Kanoi," Lord Lucan said. "What do you say, Viceroy?"
"The Emperor has instructed me to accept," Kanoi said, unwillingly, "and though I deplore this decision, I must obey him."
"We have three votes in favour, one abstention, and one against," Jedda said, and whistled. "Gentlemen, I'm impressed. We of the Commonwealth have actually taken a decision! This would call for a round of applause and drinks on the house, if we didn't have this annoying Paradiso business to deal with. Now, who is in favour of deploying Commonwealth ships to aid in a rescue?"
"Nyet," Commissioner Jansen said, staring at Kanoi. "Until our President approves such a mission, we cannot even consider such a proposal."
"Do not be absurd, Jansen," Kanoi replied, pointing a stubby finger at him. "We are authorized to do so, when there is a risk of harm to civilians. Lord Geraud himself made such a provision in Chapter Seven of the Charter…"
"Actually, Kanoi," Lord Lucan interrupted, "Chapter Seven probably refers only to civilian casualties during a war or other armed conflict…"
Round and round in circles they went, unable to reach a decision. The Paradiso remained where it was.
xxx
"Sire," Martell Socius said slowly, "I am sure you understand the gravity of the situation."
"Gravity? Fiddlesticks, my dear Socius. Do not be like Wilhelm and his Zion friends, who came and worried me nearly to death with their talk of Koketsu, war and alliances. It didn't do Wilhelm much good, though. God rest his soul." Arlbert laughed at his own witticism, though the others in the room – Socius, Interior Minister Fairfax, Sir Prescott, and War Minister Alan Sheffield – merely smiled politely. "Well, Wilhelm is dead. Let the Zion mourn him. I suppose we may have to observe a day of silence, or something, but let's not overdo it. Confound it, the man cost me a good day's hunting with his blather. Now, Socius, I hope you aren't going to emulate him. Remember that Wilhelm didn't live long after annoying me." He chuckled.
"Sire, we understand your point of view, and no disrespect was intended," Socius said. "However, the Crown Princess is still in Zionese hands, and on Zionese soil, at Darington. She will be escorted by Imperial soldiers to Lorean, and will reach in two days' time."
"Bah," Arlbert replied. "I know that already. What's this about a young man with her?"
"Apparently, the Princess' life was saved by a young Galvenian who happened to be on the ship. This has been confirmed by both the surviving sailors, who are now at Serin's Peak, and by the messages we have received from the Zion Army."
"A likely story," Arlbert scoffed. "Who is this man, Socius? Give me a straight answer – something that you parliamentarians seem unable to do." He chuckled again.
"His name is Ryan Eramond, and he is a businessman's son from Davenport," Socius replied. "There is nothing in his antecedents to suggest any sort of treachery or dealing with the enemy, though my men at Davenport say he is a disciple of old Whitworth. Perhaps he learnt his chivalry there."
"Socius, I am disappointed," Arlbert groaned. "You mean he was not eloping with my child? Tsk, tsk, tsk. Perhaps something will bloom in time, though it will have to wither as well, what with his being a commoner. Businessman's son – bah!"
"I'm afraid not, Sire," Socius replied, unable to repress a smile. "The Commonwealth remains deadlocked, though the election of Hipper as president has been approved by a vote of three to one – with Lucan abstaining. But it seems little doubt that this incident, though mysterious, will bring the simmering cauldron of Zion-Varald enmity to a boil, Sire. Both sides are spoiling for a fight. Director Kievan has already begun troop deployments at the Ghetz border, and Emperor Charlemagne has moved four regiments to the border town of Eriksburg, besides recalling some troops from Darington to strengthen the regular Army. We will soon be forced to show the Zion our hand, Your Majesty."
"Show them Queen Katarina's fan instead, Socius," Arlbert said, irritably. "Is this why you're wasting my time, when I could be out – ahem – paying a visit to Ozun City? Your name should be Tedious, not Socius."
"Very amusing, Your Majesty," Alan Sheffield replied politely. "The long and the short of it is, the Zion are bound to send a formal envoy along with the Princess, probably with a formal request for an alliance. What should our reply be, Sire?"
"Tell them," the King said, rising from his chair, "that we'll give them soldiers if they give us back Darington. And Issachar, as well. Now, if you'll excuse me, gentlemen, I have a friend waiting for me, and it is most impolite to make friends wait. Good day to you."
Without a word, he strode out of the Throne Room, his head held high.
"The fool," Sir Cornelius Fairfax said as soon as he had left, swearing under his breath. "Can we face the Zion with a reply like that, after they have saved Carranya's life?"
"Calm down, Fairfax," Sheffield said. "When the envoys come, he will be forced to behave himself. He is merely saying to us what he cannot say to them. Socius, what news?"
"Gentlemen, I might surprise you," Socius replied, "by saying that neither Carranya, nor the war, are my primary concern now. My main concern is that we have an enemy, not in the Directorate, but in our own camp. The capture of Talmadge and Kodenai – and Talmadge sang quite prettily when we told him what we knew – only confirms this, and I now have a good idea of who that enemy is. Unfortunately, neither the King nor the Queen will believe me if I told them, unless I have further proof. None, except Trask and I, know the whole story. Can I trust you with it?"
"Of course, Socius, of course," Sheffield said, warmly. Despite their differences over military funding, he was an admirer of Socius, and he was one of the few who knew what struggles he had in getting Arlbert to made rational decisions, and in keeping peace in the Royal household. "I have had my suspicions for some time. Name the person, my friend, and we will help you."
"That goes for me, too," Sir Cornelius added.
"As a representative of the Army, and a fellow soldier, you can count on me, Socius," was Sir Prescott's rejoinder.
Socius, leaning forward, mentioned a name. Fairfax looked stunned, as if he had received a heavy blow to the head; Sheffield looked grave; but Sir Prescott merely nodded slowly.
"Impossible," Fairfax said, hoarsely.
"I had my suspicious," Sheffield said, "but….what if the person you mention is just a tool, Socius? There may be someone higher, someone more powerful, here in Galvenia itself."
"I have been thinking along the same lines for a while, Socius, but I thought they had covered their tracks too carefully. I'm impressed," Sir Prescott said, with a small smile on his face. "What is to be done?"
"I have an idea," Socius said, "but it will involve taking risks."
"We must not let that stop us, Socius," Sir Prescott said. "The future of Galvenia may be at stake."
"Proofs, Socius," Fairfax said feebly. "We cannot accuse someone in that position without proof…"
"Oh, we'll get the proofs," Sheffield said, darkly. "But even once we have them, what can we do?"
xxx