CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Choices

ROBERTSON, MARIANNE (C.Y. 282 –) Galvenian politician. Born at Davenport, she was the daughter of a business agent, Alexander Robertson, who worked for several major corporations, most notably Regale Enterprises (q.v.)….

Running on a platform of free trade, tourism and wider assistance to the disadvantaged, Ms. Robertson's policies were widely seen as a breath of fresh air after nearly thirty years of unbroken Conservative rule. She was Mayor of Davenport from 331 to 339, running on the Welfare Centrist ticket, and then won election to Galvenia's Lower House in the mid-term election of 340. Often working in collaboration with the more enlightened policies of King Derren (q.v.), she has – not unfairly – been credited with bringing a more compassionate face to the country's Government, and with providing an acceptable alternative to the Pragmatic Conservatives after the fall of Socius' Liberal Unionist party. Davenport's first orphanage (cf. CHILD WELFARE IN GALVENIA) was opened under her supervision and mentorship….

- ENCYCLOPEDIA GALVENICA, 24th Edition, C.Y. 347

"I'm sorry, Miss," the guard at the door said. "No visitors allowed at the moment, not even parents."

"But why?" Lavie asked, shaking her head.

"Last night, two intruders broke into the hospital and stunned the guards. We have no idea what they wanted – they didn't harm any of the men, or steal any supplies. The only thing that went missing was an old ledger of patients, but we're not taking any chances. Besides" – the guard looked at her suspiciously – "what's in that case you're carrying?"

"A sword," Lavie explained. "Please, I have to see him. It's terribly important."

"I'm sorry, Miss Regale, but we're not even allowing the King or the Queen in at this point. Only parents, spouses and grown children are allowed in, and only with valid identification from the mayor of their town. Besides" – he sighed – "it's late. Many of the men will be medicated and asleep already."

"But you don't understand," Lavie pleaded. "I…."

"Trouble, Hugh?" The voice was soft and friendly, but it held an unmistakeable note of command in it.

"Girl here wants to see one of the officers," the guard named Hugh grumbled. "Look, Captain, could you explain it to her? I have work to do."

"Lieutenant Reckland!" Lavie exclaimed. He was in his uniform, but without his helmet, revealing a mass of rather untidy fair hair. "Please, Lieutenant, could you help me?"

"I'm afraid I've been promoted to Captain, Miss Regale," John Reckland replied. "Fortunes of war, and all that. Whom do you want to see?"

"Ryan – I mean Lieutenant Eramond," Lavie said, correcting herself. "I rushed here as soon as I heard he was hurt…"

"Alone?" Reckland looked at her with concern. "I'll take care of this, Hugh."

The guard, grateful to be relieved of what was becoming a difficult situation, moved on – presumably to less challenging work.

"Now, Miss Regale, tell me what this is about. Only, be honest. I can see that you need to see him for reasons beyond mere sentimentality, but I need you to tell me what they are. I promise I'll help you. Come, let us discuss this in private." He led her to an empty office, and she sat down.

"Thank you, Captain Reckland," Lavie said, in a tremulous voice. "It's such a strange story, and I don't know if you'll believe me, but I know I can trust you…"

And, without waiting for his reply, she told him what David and Qasim and told her, and about the sword she was carrying. "And now that he's wounded, and the war is, er, getting worse, I feel he should have it, Captain," she concluded. "I feel it may be – important. I don't know, but I just feel it…"

"Sometimes our intuitions are good guides, Miss Regale," Reckland replied. "Now, I happen to have met Eramond yesterday – I saw him while calling in on a friend of mine – and while he needs to rest a while, he's not in danger. He's broken several ribs, has sword injuries to his face and arms, and took a bullet in one leg, but the lad is made of solid stuff."

"Thank God," Lavie replied, closing her eyes.

"Indeed. Now, if you truly want to see him, I suggest you wait here a little while in my office, until the doctors finish their rounds. I'll take you in, but the rest is up to you. But tell me – do your parents know that you're here?"

"Mom does," Lavie replied. "Daddy's at Lorean most of the time, and when he comes back, he's – tired. I'm afraid for him, Captain Reckland. I feel he's….slipping back into his old ways, and yet, neither Mom nor I have the heart to blame him, though I get mad at him sometimes!"

"Don't worry, Miss Regale," Reckland said kindly. "As long as I'm here in Galvenia – and right now, they've reassigned many of us to the regular army on a temporary basis, until any naval engagements come up – you can always reach me either here or at Davenport, where I'm helping Second Lieutenant Huntington with recruitment."

"That's nice of you, Captain," Lavie said, smiling back. "I guess I'll just wait for some time."

xxx

At this very moment, an encounter of a different kind was taking place at the Friary of the Sons of Saint Nealus.

"The choice is yours, Your Holiness," Prime Minister Sheffield said. "The issue has not yet come up at the Commonwealth, but it is only a matter of time before the Zion use it as a propaganda weapon. Archbishop Mazarus has been in communication with me. He feels that you should remain here, but will defer to your judgment."

"It is a difficult decision," Pontiff Pious replied. "On the one hand, my people need me. On the other hand, there are reasons – both political and prophetic – for me to remain here."

"Prophetic?" Sheffield enquired, frowning. "What do you mean by that?"

"Time will reveal all things, Prime Minister," Pious replied, shaking his head. "The worst thing one can do to a prophecy is unveil it at the wrong time. That is what the Zion have done, and that is why Terra is in turmoil now. The words of God are not bullets to be fired at an enemy of one's convenience."

"Noble words," Sir Cornelius Fairfax replied, "but we must have a decision, Your Holiness. If you wish to return to Itaria, you will be accompanied by a fleet of our ships for protection. If you wish to remain, Queen Katarina has informed me that you will be under her personal protection, and will be offered a home at Lorean Castle. We must reach at least a tentative decision on this, so that we are not caught unawares by a Zion or Commonwealth ultimatum, and can prepare ourselves."

"Please thank the Queen on my behalf, Sir Cornelius," the Pontiff replied, "and assure her, and the entire Royal House of Galvenia, of my blessings. I have also been in communication with Mazarus, and this is the plan I have decided upon. I will remain in Galvenia during the winter, until certain things – you will soon see what I mean – have taken place. Once these events have come to pass, there is no reason for me to remain here. Do not worry about my being an importunate guest; I will remain with you only a little longer."

Sheffield, pleased by this answer, extended his hand to the Pontiff. "You have chosen wisely, Your Holiness. I will inform the Queen of your answer, and you will be escorted there by soldiers of the Galvenian Army."

"Is that really necessary, Prime Minister?" Pious XXI replied with a smile.

"A simple precaution, Your Holiness," said Sir Cornelius. "Your escort will be ready by tomorrow morning."

"There is, of course, one condition," Pious XXI said, folding his hands together. "If I go, I wish to extend my protection to one more person. Mother Anna must come with me."

"Mother Anna?" Fairfax frowned, then relaxed. "Oh, yes, the nun from Issachar whom we rescued from an impending Zion assassination…"

"Fairfax!" Sheffield exclaimed. "Surely we have no proof of that."

"I'm afraid that we do, thanks to Lolek's decryption of that magazine," Fairfax replied, and Pious XXI nodded. "That was part of their plan, as was the attempt to obtain minerals from Mount Lorea Mine. Fortunately, we foiled them on both counts."

"But what does it all mean?" Sheffield wondered.

"I am afraid that I can only repeat my first answer, Prime Minister – time will tell," Pious replied. "In the meantime, I thank you, gentlemen, and I assure you of my prayers."

xxx

Ryan woke up with a start, with an uneasy feeling that he was being watched. Had he been captured? No, that was long ago – before the war even began. Was he a prisoner of war? He looked around, but the room was darkened. Trying to sit up, he was conscious of a pain in his right side.

Now I remember. The battle – I wish I could remember more. The flag flew over the Mayor's house….

"Ryan?"

In the darkness, he could not see her fully. She was a shadow – a ghostly figure with long hair and dark eyes.

"Ryan, are you all right?"

That voice – no, it can't be…

"Lavie?" The word was more a challenge – or even an accusation – than a question. "Lavie, what the hell are you doing here?"

Lavie – if it was her – sniffed. "You could try being a little more grateful, Mr. Eramond, considering that I came alone all the way from Davenport to see you!"

Ryan sighed. "Please, Lavie. I'm trying to recover and get back to the Army as soon as possible. I could do without another of our not-so-friendly arguments."

Lavie choked down the angry retort that was on her lips, and tried to smile. "I'm sorry, Ryan," she said. "But as soon as I heard that you were in the hospital, I felt I just had to come. Maybe I was stupid to do so, but…"

Ryan shook his head impatiently. "That's not what I meant, Lavie," he said, a little more gently. "In fact, I ought to thank you for being here in the first place. How you did it is a mystery; even Mum and Dad have a hard time getting in."

"Captain Reckland helped me," Lavie admitted, grateful that the darkness hid her blush. "And – er – you're welcome. How….how are you doing, Ryan? Does it…does it hurt?"

"Of course it does," Ryan snapped, but corrected himself as he noticed Lavie's hurt expression. "Look, Lavie, people get hurt during a war. I'm alive, and I'm getting better. Don't be afraid. Sure, it's a lot worse than that Crocogator, but it's not too bad."

"I'm glad to hear that," Lavie said, rubbing one eye. "Ryan – I know you're in pain, and tired, but can I tell you something?"

Ryan scowled. "Lavie, I don't really have the time for…."

"Please, Ryan," she said, and her attitude was one of supplication rather than anger. "Listen to me."

"All right," Ryan said, in clipped tones, "but let me tell you something first. If this is about Marianne, or about – us, I don't think I want to discuss that topic right now. I'm glad to see – a friend in hospital, but let's leave it at that, shall we?"

"That's not it, Ryan," Lavie replied, shaking her head. "Ryan – when I was in the Republic, I received a legacy from my grandmother. It was a diary, written by my grandfather."

Ryan's eyes widened. He had expected many things from Lavie – tears, anger, recriminations, confessions – but not this. Memories of a certain conversation, which seemed to belong to the distant past, came back to him, and like Lavie, he was grateful that the darkness hid his embarrassment. "A diary?" he asked, after a pause. "You came all this way to tell me about a diary?"

Slowly and hesitantly, Lavie told him what she had learned from old Qasim and from her uncle David, except for the last exchange she had with Qasim. He listened with growing consternation, but said nothing.

"And I felt you should know, Ryan," she concluded, opening the case that lay at his bedside, and taking the sword out. "According to Mr. Qasim, this sword belongs to you."

"Well – this is pretty heavy stuff, Lavie," Ryan said, trying to make light of it. "But what proof do we have of this story, except a few jottings in your grandpa's diary?"

Patiently, Lavie began to explain, and Ryan listened, shaking his head.

"It's strange, and yet –" He stopped, remembering what Agent Schenk had told him. "You're not the first person to tell me this, Lavie. When the first person told me, I didn't want to believe. But now, I guess I'm forced to – much against my better judgment."

"Do you really have magical abilities, Ryan?" Lavie said, an expression of awe on her face.

"I don't know," Ryan said honestly. "A few strange things have happened to me, but I'm still skeptical. Even so…" He shook his head again. "Thanks for the sword, Lavie. I'll put it to good use, as I've done with Grandpa's."

"There's one more thing, Ryan," Lavie said, lowering her head. "I'm not asking for anything in return, but I want you to know this: I believe in you, Ryan. I believe that you'll come out of this war safely, and that you'll be at Davenport with us all again. We all miss you. I know I do. And if at any time, you need some support, or just want to talk things over, I'm there, Ryan. I'm always there."

Ryan smiled, then shook his head. "That's very kind of you, Lavie, and who knows? Perhaps some day, I may have to take you up on that. But I don't think I can promise anything more. I'm sorry."

"Because of the war?"

"No, not just the war," Ryan began, then fell silent.

"Then," Lavie asked nervously, "is it….someone else? Marianne?"

Ryan flushed, but with the quick thinking that months of battle experience had honed, replied almost immediately. "No, it's not that, Lavie. It's not that at all. It's just that – remember that night at Glendale, Lavie? Remember what I said? People change. I changed, you changed. And it's worse now."

"What do you mean?" Another question hovered on her lips, but she dared not ask it.

"I've seen things, done things, that have changed me – perhaps for all time, Lavie," Ryan replied regretfully. "And the world has changed too. I'm no longer the kid you gave a Davenport Beach T-shirt to on my birthday. Like that old shirt, our old world is gone – eaten by moths. We live in a world of moths and vermin now, Lavie, and there are too few of us out there, trying to exterminate them. That's what I have to do. I'll use this sword, or anything else, to achieve that goal – and I thank you for that. But things are different now, Lavie. You need to understand that."

There were many things that Lavie wanted to say in response, but she merely nodded, and held out her hand. "All right, Ryan. I guess – I'll try to understand, even if I never actually will. And I wish you good luck. No matter what happens, I'll always think well of you. Think of me as a friend, too."

Ryan took her hand, held it briefly, then let go of it. "Thanks, Lavie," he said. "Now, I guess I'd better get back to sleep, and you'd better be on your way home. Good night, and take care."

"Good night, Ryan," Lavie said quietly, as she rose and left. Ryan watched her leave, not without a pang, but his resolve did not waver.

Something precious, he thought. Yes, Lavie. If we wish to be free at peace, we all have to give up something precious – perhaps give it up forever. I hope you understand. I'm sorry. That's all I can say.

xxx

Later that night, Lavie lay in bed, unable to fall asleep. Captain Reckland had helped her check into the inn at Alton, and she would return home the next day.

Try to understand – that's what Ryan said. But I'll never understand. I'll never understand!

Even if things have changed – I haven't changed. And even if he's a different person, I still…

There was a knock at her window, and she let out a little cry. Standing near the windowpane, his face eerie in the moonlight, was a hooded man. He wore a mask, and carried a sword.

Before she could react, the window swung away from its hinges.

"Do not raise the alarm, Miss Regale," the man said in a hoarse, low voice. "I am here to help you."

"Who are you?" Lavie whispered.

"A friend," he replied. "My name is unimportant, but I am an auxiliary of the Galvenian Covert Operations Service. I was sent by my superiors to warn you."

"Warn me? Of what?" Lavie replied, puzzled.

"Of your friend Ryan Eramond," he replied. "He currently has an unblemished record, but he is being led astray. That would be a pity, because he has served the Army well, and his defection would be a huge blow to our country, and a moral victory for the Zion. Fortunately, it need not take place."

"Ryan, a betrayer? I'll never believe it!" Lavie said passionately.

"Not a traitor, Miss Regale," the man said calmly. "A tool of forces within Galvenia who are manipulating us, and who want power rather than . Think of the way your father was arrested as a convenient scapegoat. He is being used in the same way. He will soon be induced, by seemingly innocent means, to compromise himself and join hands with them. Perhaps you already sense signs of this – he may have told you that he has changed, or that he serves a different master. If you want to, you can help us prevent a scandal. It is your choice."

"I don't know who you are," Lavie said softly, "but I'd do anything to help Ryan. Tell me what I must do."

"I'm afraid my superiors will tell you that, Miss Regale; my orders were simply to make contact. If you wish to learn more, please meet them at Clarissa Crenshaw's souvenir shop at Davenport two days from now, at any time between three and five in the evening."

"I'll be there," Lavie said. "You can count on me."

The man closed the window and disappeared into a clump of bushes, while Lavie – wearied by sadness and shock – fell asleep. Discarding his mask along the highway, Makarov Juno continued to walk steadily and silently along the path leading back to Davenport. Jason Lugner had instructed him to return as early as he could, and he was eager to do so. His current mission did not merely satisfy his innate craving for justice – it spoke to his two deepest needs: affection and vengeance.

He was entering his hometown through the woods when the shot struck him. He felt the bullet enter his shoulder, but before he could even react to the searing pain, or to the sound of the gun, he felt himself being hurled against a nearby tree, unable to move or see.

It would be several hours before he woke again.

xxx

It's so peaceful here. Of course, there are memories. There always will be. But with time, they fade away. Everything fades – except, perhaps, those moments where I felt that everything would be all right. I have to hold on to them.

And it's quiet out in the woods. I know Father doesn't like me to stay away from home too long, after what happened, but I like it out here. It was a good idea to cut back on my job – we don't really need the money now, especially after the court settlement. Poor Father, at least he doesn't have to be ruined now.

Marianne stooped down to pick a few flowers and place them in her basket.

That tree – it's where he carved our names, that evening out in the woods. And now, he's carved it out. Well, I asked for it. I can't even offer an excuse. And I suppose it's a small consolation that he doesn't want Lavie Regale, either. She's a decent sort, even if her family spoils her. I'm sorry, Ryan. I wish you knew how sorry I am…

Good heavens!

She dropped her basket, and looked with horror at the bleeding man who lay curled up near one side of the tree.

I've got to call for help – but what if he's a bandit or a deserter?

Gathering up her courage, she looked closer.

Sweet Infinity! It's Juno. What on Terra is he doing here? Juno was always weird, but Father said that's because he lost his father, and we ought to cut him some slack. I ought to help him.

"Juno," she said timidly, "what happened?"

"Argh," Juno said, propping himself on one arm and shaking his head, then looking around him, perplexed. "Miss Robertson, I presume."

"Are you all right, Juno?"

"It is self-evident," Juno replied sarcastically, "that your question must be answered in the affirmative. But I thank you for your concern. I must somehow obtain medical attention."

"I can help you, if you want," Marianne said shyly. "Father knows a couple of good doctors, here and at Hartridge. But who did this to you?"

"A traitor," Juno said. "Could you kindly do me a favour, Miss Robertson? Fetch a doctor, and send this to my mother." He scribbled on a piece of paper torn from a notebook in his cloak, and handed it to her, breathing hard.

"I'll be right back," Marianne said, taking it from his hands and rushing out of the woods as fast as her legs could carry her.

Juno looked after her, his expression softening for a moment, before lapsing into semi-consciousness once more.

xxx

It was four o'clock, two days later, when Lavie Regale – returning from a session at the Mann Island Archery Academy – stepped into Clarissa Crenshaw's much-mocked souvenir shop.

The room was deserted. Clarissa herself was nowhere to be found, and there was an unnatural stillness around her.

Walking closer, she noted to her horror that Clarissa was bound in a corner, her eyes closed, breathing heavily as if she had been drugged or struck on the head. Two men came out the back room, and before she knew what was happening, two more emerged from behind the cases of curios and barricaded the door.

"What – what on Terra is going on?" Lavie exclaimed.

The first of the men drew a sword and stepped forward. "Do not worry, Miss Regale," he said. "This is simply a necessary precaution. Mrs. Crenshaw has not been harmed, she has simply been stunned. As soon as our meeting is over, we shall revive her."

The second man, younger than the first and with a large grin, placed a large sarcophagus on the floor and opened it.

"What are you doing?" Lavie said nervously. "Who are you?"

"I must say little Juno did his work well," the second man replied, still smiling. "Poor boy, we played him like the patsy that he is – enticed him with promises of meeting you, and more – and he's done his job well. Pity we had to shoot him, but he was becoming a risk. The spider, as an old friend of mine used to say, has caught himself a fly."

"That was Juno?" Lavie was horrified. "But why? What do you want with me?"

"Simply to use you as bait, Miss Lavender Regale. Kin and Kun! Get her!" the first man shouted, and Lavie spun around to see the two men guarding the door – wearing black uniforms and masks – marching slowly and steadily towards her.

Lavie was quick to react. Scraping two arrows against her bangle, she fired and hit the first of the men in the arm, causing him to collapse on the ground, his clothing on fire. Her second arrow went wild, but scraped the second man's headband, setting his mask on fire.

"Confound it, a Fire Elemental!" the second man said, his smile gone. "Shield me, Jacob."

"Not so fast!" The door shattered, and suddenly, there were five men in Galvenian police uniform, accompanied by Captain Reckland, standing behind Lavie.

"Freeze, both of you!" one of the policemen said, drawing his revolver. "Drop those swords and raise your hands, or we'll shoot!"

"Damn it!" the first man said. "Jason, do the honours!"

The second man brandished a strange object from his waist, and Lavie felt a blow strike hard at her breast-bone. She fell to the ground, the breath knocked out of her.

"Miss Regale, no!" Reckland cried out, rushing forward and firing with his own rifle. The first man was struck in the leg, and groaned. He stepped in front of Lavie, shielding her with his own body, and slashed at the second man, who parried the blow.

"Get her out of here!" Reckland shouted. Two of the policemen, reacting quickly, carried Lavie out of the room, while two more handcuffed Kin and Kun and doused the flames that threatened them.

"I must say, the girl is cleverer than that fool Marksmith," Jacob Lugner said between clenched teeth. "But this game has gone on long enough."

"Admit defeat," Reckland said firmly. "I have no idea who you are, but we've got you cold. Attempted abduction, possible espionage, and possessing an illegal weapon. Give up while you still can."

"Oh, that's what you think," the second man replied, his smile returning.

"Jason, no!" Jacob cried out.

"Carry on the good fight, my brother," Jason said. One of the policemen, noticing that Jason was raising his weapon again, fired, and Jason began to bleed from his side.

There was a sound of shattering glass, and Jacob Lugner was no longer in the room.

"He's gone," Jason said, defiantly, "and you can't find him now. Admit defeat yourself."

"Surround the building!" Reckland said, noticing that one of the windows had been broken. He moved in and immobilized the injured Jason with a control hold, then dragged him out of the building.

"Look after Mrs. Crenshaw," he told the two policemen who had arrested Kin and Kun. Rushing outside the building, he noted to his dismay that there was no sign of Jacob Lugner – no footprints, no trail in the grass. He was gone.

Rushing back to the front of the building, he knelt down before Lavie.

"Miss Regale," he said anxiously. "Are you all right?"

"I'm all choked up," she said, with a weak smile, "but, all things considered, I'm not too bad. Who were those men?"

"We've got one of them, and Fairfax's boys at Lorean will put him through the blender," Reckland replied. "But you shouldn't remain here. Come, I'll take you home, and we'll get the police surgeon to have a look at you. Don't worry. I'll make sure you're safe."

Touched, Lavie felt a lump rise in her throat, adding to the discomfort she felt in her chest. "Thank you, Captain Reckland," she replied. "Maybe…."

But the pain overwhelmed her, and her eyes closed.

xxx

Two weeks had passed since the attempt to capture Lavie. For the Zion and Galvenian armies, they were weeks of watchful waiting – apart from a few skirmishes, both sides were reluctant to make too bold a move. Weather forecasts were unpredictable, and neither army wanted to be caught in a snowdrift – especially after the thunderstorm that had humiliated the Zion at Victoria.

Makarov Juno, in his mother's house, was recovering rapidly. He had been questioned by the police, but could not identify his assailants, and was offered immunity from any prosecution in connection with the Lugners if he agreed to join the army as soon as he recovered. He agreed to this proposal without hesitation. An unexpected but frequent visitor to his home was Marianne, who would often spend time talking to his mother, and occasionally would help her care for him.

"Why are you doing this?" he asked her curiously one day.

"Look, Juno, I don't have a mother any more," Marianne said frankly. "Your mother's a very nice lady, and I feel sorry for her. She was terrified that she would lose you, the way she lost your father."

"I understand," Juno replied simply. After the police had informed him that the Lugners had been manipulating him, he had spent much time thinking about the way his life had progressed in the past one year.

He still loathed Ryan – for reasons that few people knew – but somehow, that did not seem so important now. What mattered now was that he had spent a long time associating with, and abetting, two probable spies.

Juno was an honourable soldier's son, and despite the cruel streak that the loss of his father had placed in him, he realized that he had to make amends somehow.

He found himself dreaming of his childhood often – of his father, of the innocent games he had played as a small boy. Somehow, Marianne often intruded into these dreams, and try as he might to chase her away with an impatient wave, she was often there: as an elder sister kicking the ball slowly towards him, as a child of his age comforting him as he and his mother wept for his father.

"You seem quite pensive today, Juno," Marianne said one day, as she brought him a cup of tea and a tray of small cakes.

Juno eyed the tray suspiciously. "What might these be?" he asked.

"Oh, a little surprise, Juno," Marianne said with a wink. "Aunt Martha – sorry, I mean your mother – was feeling a little tired today, so I said I'd take care of tea. I used to make these for Ryan, once upon a time." She sighed.

Juno frowned, and Marianne realized her mistake.

"I'm sorry," she said earnestly. "I know you and Ryan don't get on – and quite frankly, I think he's more or less forgotten about me."

"I would expect nothing less from him," Juno said coldly. "He does not appreciate the blessings he has, and seeks those he can never attain."

"What do you mean?" Marianne asked, looking confused.

"It is a lengthy story, Miss Marianne," Juno replied. Picking up one of the cakes, he nibbled at it, then brightened. "And, though I am no authority on such things, these are quite excellent. My compliments to the cook."

Marianne turned a bright red, and covered her face with a fold of her apron. "Thanks, Juno," she replied. "You know, a lot of people in town think you and your mother are oddballs, but now I know better. You're just grieving."

"Is it that obvious?" Juno said, with a rare smile.

"Grief can drive you crazy," Marianne reflected. "When Father and I realized that Mother was going to – walk out on us, I didn't know what to think. When she actually did, I – I wasn't myself. I couldn't think straight. I made a lot of mistakes – and one of those cost me Ryan. I'm not complaining, though. I've realized that I can't let my happiness depend entirely on another person, especially when that person has his own view of life."

"That's a wise decision, Miss Marianne," Juno said. "Perhaps I could learn something from you, young and inexperienced as you are."

Marianne frowned, then chuckled. "I don't know whether to be offended or pleased by that, Juno, but I think I'll opt for the latter. You have a strange way of expressing yourself."

"Perhaps that, too, is just grief," Juno said, in a jesting tone. There was silence in the room as he ate two more of the cakes and drank his tea. "But I will say this: you have been most helpful to my dear mother, and to me. I thank you."

"Pish posh," Marianne said, with a smile. "That's what friends are for. Do you know that Father knew your dad quite well?"

"Really?" Juno looked at her intently. "Does he –"

"Yes," Marianne replied quietly. "It's one of the reasons he's never done much business with Eramond Delivery Services, honestly."

"I would like to meet him," Juno said.

"Wait till you're a little better, mister!" Marianne said teasingly. "Now try and rest a little. The doctor'll be coming by in the evening, and you shouldn't tire yourself out. If you need me, or your mother, just call out."

"Oh, I shall," Juno replied, closing his eyes. "Thank you, M – Miss Marianne."

xxx

"He's not telling us anything," Roper said gloomily. "Either he's a man of tremendous will, or he's been subjected to some sort of drug – or magical spell, if you want to be fanciful – that prevents him from revealing the truth."

"Have you warned him that we may do – worse things, if he refuses to cooperate?" Sheffield said, shaking his head.

"That would be illegal," Roper replied. "I can't tell him that."

"Espionage and treason are illegal too," Sheffield replied, glaring at the physician.

"Calm down, Prime Minister," Sir Cornelius said. "Let us summarize what we know. Jason Schenk – who has also used the alias Jason Lugner, if we go by eyewitness testimony – was an operative of ours, gathering intelligence in the Varald Directorate. He went missing two years ago, and we thought he had been liquidated or subverted. He mysteriously reappears in Zion during the past five months, allegedly involved in a misinformation campaign about Mother Anna and her wretched prophecy. And now, we find him and his brother trying to kidnap Miss Regale. It doesn't make any sense."

"Do you have any ideas, Fairfax?" Sheffield said, still scowling.

"A nobleman had a further testimony, though he insisted on anonymity. He said that some months ago, the same two men waylaid him and threatened him, making veiled allusions to – an event in his future."

"Let us drop the mask," Sheffield said impatiently. "That will be all, Roper. See if you can increase the dose further."

After the doctor had left, Sheffield and Fairfax sat together in the latter's office.

"So they threatened Marksmith," Sheffield said.

"Furthermore, a report from our friend Scott suggests that the same men – or at least one of them – was involved in the attempt to recapture Mother Anna. One of the students helping him is now in the Army, and another is at King's College. They can easily be questioned."

"Then there's no doubt, Fairfax – this Lugner is a double agent. Either this, or our Chief of Covert Operations is playing a deep game. We need to speak to him at once."

"I agree," Fairfax replied. "We shall set up a meeting for tomorrow, once he has finished with his – ahem – other duties. In the meantime, we will set one of our younger men on the trail of this Juno, and give him privileges to enter Zion if required."

"How about that boy Tamas?" Sheffield said, cheering up a little.

"You have read my mind, Prime Minister," Sir Cornelius replied.

xxx

"Armin?" Henrik, returning to his barracks at the end of his shift at the Citadel of Derren, was pleasantly surprised to see his friend. "What are you doing here?"

"Hunting traitors, Compadre," Armin Tamas replied. He was in the grey uniform of the Galvenian Security Services – of which the Intelligence Service was a wing – and now carried a gun at his belt, as well as a knife; in essence, however, he was still the Armin that Henrik remembered from their school days. "And you're going to help me."

"Me?" Henrik shook his head. "How can I do that?"

"First, tell me about the little errand you ran in Issachar. We suspect that one of the men who held you up is now in our custody."

Surprised, Henrik told him what had happened. Armin nodded, then took a photograph out of his pocket.

"Juno's turned King's Evidence against them, in exchange for amnesty and the draft," Armin said, "though I think they ought to shoot him. Is this the guy?"

Henrik studied the photograph carefully. "It was either him, or someone similar to him."

"Now guess what, Compadre," Armin went on. "This guy's real name is Schenk – Jason Schenk – but he goes by the alias of Jason Lugner. Does that ring a bell?"

"Lugner!" Henrik's eyebrows went up. "That guy who fought us in Davenport Woods. But – this isn't the same man. They look similar, but this guy is younger."

"They're brothers," Armin explained. "Jacob and Jason Lugner. The guy we all met is the elder one. And I'm on their trail."

"What do you mean?"

"Sir Cornelius wants me to find all possible traces of those two goons," he explained. "I'll start at Davenport, where they tried to kidnap Lavie, but she scared them off. Must've fed them some of her brownies." He chuckled.

"Kidnapping Lavie?" Henrik looked shocked. "Sweet Infinity! Just what is going on in our country, Armin?"

"Oh, things are going to get a lot more interesting, Compadre," Armin replied. Then he paused, remembering something, and his face clouded over. "Look, Henrik, you're in the army now. If you ever come across Ryan, keep an eye on him, okay? Find out if he's involved in anything fishy, and warn him that some of the big cats at Lorean are giving him the evil eye."

"What do you mean?" Henrik replied, genuinely perturbed this time.

"I'm afraid I can't spill too many beans, Compadre," he replied. "Look, I've gotta go. Look out for Ryan, and keep him out of trouble. Kid's got a big heart, and it'll get him into trouble some day."

And without saying anything more, Armin left quietly, leaving Henrik deep in thought.

xxx