CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Secrets
RELIGION IN GALVENIA….From its birth, Galvenia pursued a policy of religious tolerance, eager to dissociate itself from the "union of crown and censer" that characterized the Zion Empire under Johan. As a result, many clergymen were expelled by King Arlbert I on the pretext that they were seditious, though the intervention of Queen Mother Penelope (q.v.) forestalled the indignities that the Varald inflicted on churchmen in their lands. Though the King of Galvenia was always crowned "in the name of the Infinity and the people", and Richard Lionheart was himself a believer, the country – barring the monarchy and a few of the common people in Galvenia – gradually substituted a strong nationalism and a general deism (q.v.) for any vestiges of Church faith.
Before the forceful restoration of the Itarian faith that accompanied the post-Terran War monarchy (see below), religious "revivals" were often confined to small cliques, largely composed of politically conscious nobles. One such movement, which played a crucial role in the War, was the self-styled "Church of Galvenia"….
- ENCYCLOPEDIA GALVENICA, 24th Edition, C.Y. 347
"My advice to you," the Chief of Covert Operations said, looking at Sheffield with disapproval, "is to leave the man alone. He is working for us, not against us."
"How can trying to kidnap a young woman be part of your plan?" Fairfax said, a stern expression on his face.
"You have no proof that he was trying to do so," the Chief replied. "There is only Miss Regale's words, and given her father's actions, she is not a reliable witness."
"I'll trouble you to remember, my good man," Sir Prescott said, "that you are here at our good pleasure. You are not the King of Galvenia. Answer the questions we ask you, and do not be impertinent."
The Chief smiled – a cunning, cold smile. "Ah, Prescott, you're always full of pithy advice. I suppose it comes from frustration. Remember, there once was a time when you didn't speak that proudly to me."
"If you're going to waste our time," Prescott replied angrily, "then I suggest you leave now. Your refusal to answer only makes you appear as culpable as that wretch Schenk."
"Easy there, Prescott," Sir Fairfax said placatingly. "Now, I realize that we've given you a lot of rope, and overall, we're happy with how things have gone so far. But do you truly expect us to release Schenk unconditionally?"
"I can handle him," the Chief replied. "We are at war, gentlemen, and we need all the help we can get. Now that the Zion have lost Itaria, they are wounded and dangerous. They may strike suicidally, insanely, and take as much of Galvenia as they can. Schenk is crucial to undermining any such efforts on the part of the Zion."
"If that was the case, why did his associate, Juno, assault Lolek and I?" Fairfax said quietly. "If he had wanted the coded message, it would automatically have been at your disposal."
"Ah, that was a case of the Juno boy acting on his own initiative," the Chief said smoothly. "It was for this reason that Jason had to chastise him. I assure you that this was not part of our plan at all."
"I see," Sheffield replied, looking quite unconvinced.
"Prime Minister," the Chief replied with a smile, "do you really want us to work at cross-purposes? You and Fairfax have your methods, I have mine – and Prescott has his," he added, almost as an afterthought. "It would be in nobody's interests to indulge in internecine rivalry, and to test our respective strengths. Do you understand?"
Slowly, Sheffield nodded, and Fairfax did. Prescott, looking indignant, said nothing, but lowered his head briefly.
"Then we are in agreement, gentlemen," he said. "I leave you to your work, and I pray that you leave me to mine. May the Infinity bless you all."
And leaving three unsettled men behind him, Eugene Thomssen – Chief of Covert Operations for the Kingdom of Galvenia – walked out of the room and back to his quarters in the Palace, whistling a children's hymn to himself.
xxx
"By King Richard, it's good to be back in action," Ryan said, surveying the garrison at Davenport with satisfaction. Now promoted to Captain and assigned to lead the attack on the nearby town of Ismar, his recovery had surprised even the most hardened of his doctors.
Perhaps there is something to what Lavie said. I'm not indestructible, but I'm just tougher, I guess! And that's all for the better.
"Now, Eramond," Captain Rawley said, "we're counting on you. We're sending a small troop ahead to Ismar to reconnoiter the area, and based on what they say, we're sending you in. We already hold the eastern line, thanks to the capture of Victoria and the hill passes. But they've been gathering forces on the west for a while, hoping to push us back before the snow sets in. If we can score a quick punch – or even a knockout blow – then they'll be forced to fall back, and we can let the weather chip away at them. Is that clear?"
"Of course, Sir," Ryan replied. "We're ready."
"Good," Rawley replied. "Sir Prescott's men will encircle the town, and your assault division will make the actual entry. Get ready, we're moving at 1200 hours."
"Roger, Sir," Ryan replied, his hand going to the sword Lavie had given him. He saluted, and Rawley left.
A few hours later, the reconnaissance troop returned, wearing expressions of dismay.
"Sir," their leader reported to Ryan, "they're assembling in large numbers near the outskirts of Ismar! There are easily two hundred – maybe three hundred of them there."
"Any cannons?" Ryan replied, unperturbed.
"None as far as we could see," he replied.
"Then there's nothing to worry about," Ryan said, with a steely expression that the men under him had learned to respect – and to dread. "We'll take them by surprise, and if we get into a spot of bother, the Rough Riders are always there to take over. It'll be a piece of cake."
"Ryan," Sergeant Wilson, his new second-in-command, replied, "sometimes you're just a little too confident. But anyway, I have good news. We've been given fifty new men on loan from the Citadel of Derren, so our own force is a hundred and twenty strong. We're easily worth two of them."
"Who's too confident now, Sean?" Ryan joked. As he reviewed the men, he was struck by a familiar face.
"Henrik?" He frowned. "What are you doing here?"
"The same as you," Henrik replied with a smile, "but at a much lower rank. Just don't make me peel potatoes."
Ryan chuckled. "Very funny, Private Spenson. I'll make you peel the carrots instead. Just don't go punching me in the face this time, all right?"
"Actually," Henrik began, "I can explain…."
"Later, Henrik," Ryan said firmly. "We've got a job to do."
At 1200 hours, the Galvenian force under Ryan marched on Ismar. Noticing that the Zion forces were trying to encircle them, they fell back and began to fire with their grenade launchers, breaking both lines. However, this infuriated the Zion, and they began to attack in the old Zionese style, charging forward in a near-suicidal manner. By doing so, they managed to cut into one flank of Ryan's troops.
"Damn it!" Henrik said, drawing his rifle and firing. Four Zionese soldiers dropped dead, and the incursion was temporarily halted, though at the cost of seven of Ryan's men.
"They're coming out of the city!" Sergeant Wilson exclaimed. And, indeed, a further troop of one hundred men was charging forward, attempting to cut the Galvenian force into two.
The battle that followed was fierce and bloody, but though the Zionese were numerous, the Galvenians were better trained and disciplined – and Ryan's weapon was hard to withstand. The fighting lasted several hours, and cost Ryan nearly half his forces, but at the end of it all, almost the entire Zionese force had fallen. Looking at his new sword with a mixture of awe and fear, Ryan surveyed the streets of Ismar, which were deserted.
This power, he thought. It's uncanny – beyond anything I'd ever imagined. Beyond any ordinary weapon, even Grandpa's sword.
"Henrik, take ten men and start helping out the wounded," he ordered. "Sean, take half of the boys left standing, and head for the mayor's office. I'll look for any sort of arms depot."
He had not gone far, however, when a cry of alarm made him retrace his steps.
As he turned back, he saw that Sean was lying on the ground, barely breathing, and that five other men were lying on the ground, curled up in agony. Standing on the balcony of the Mayor's house was a man in a dark cloak, staring at him.
"I am Mayor Augustus Horamin," he said calmly. "Take your troops out of this city, or I shall dispose of them one by one."
"Horamin?" Ryan shook his head. "Do you get your names from storybooks these days?"
"Silence, you young dog!" Augustus Horamin said angrily. "The people of this fair city mock you, Galvenian intruder. Now leave."
"Try and make me," Ryan said, looking him straight in the eye.
"You asked for it!" Horamin drew his sword, and a beam of red light shot straight towards Ryan's chest. He stepped aside quickly, and the beam struck a nearby hut, setting its roof on fire.
"Damn it!" Ryan aimed his shorter sword at the roof, and a gust of wind soon extinguished the fire. He did not know where this knowledge came from – he was acting instinctively, as if it was something innate to him. A second beam whistled past his hair, and a third was blocked by his shield.
"My turn, now," Ryan said, drawing the sword Lavie had given him. Closing his eyes, he lunged forward, and it seemed as if the entire space between him and Horamin became a sheet of yellow light. Stunned, Horamin fell from the balcony and onto the ground below, with a high-pitched shriek.
"Not so proud now, are you?" Ryan said, looking at the prone man before him, who was bleeding from a wound to the head.
"Impossible…." Augustus Horamin muttered. "The son of Samath….only he could wield such power."
"Speak louder," Ryan taunted him. "I can't hear you."
"You may defeat us, boy – but you will never…truly win," he said, in a whisper. "The sword….can never triumph…..over the spirit…."
There was a gurgle in his throat, and he lay motionless.
"Evacuate the civilians," Ryan said, turning around to face his awe-struck men, "but destroy everything that the Zion soldiers could use. As for this man's magical weapons" – he looked at Horamin with contempt – "we'll take them back to Lorean. Perhaps our scientists there can learn something from them."
"What happened?" Henrik asked, struck with amazement.
"Oh, our friend Horamin was enlightened, that's all," Ryan said casually, returning his sword to its scabbard. "Mission accomplished. Let's mop up."
Henrik set about his task, still wondering…
xxx
"Good luck, Juno," Marianne said. She was standing near the entrance to Davenport Woods, wearing a long coat as protection against the wind. A few flakes of snow fell to the ground around her. "I hope you make it back safely. Your mother'll be waiting for you, and – so will I, I guess." She laughed lightly.
"Ah, a little levity is never amiss at moments like these, Miss Marianne," Juno replied. He had received his papers a day earlier from Captain Reckland – an assignment to join the garrison at Victoria along with forty other new recruits – and, now that his wounds were healed, he was eager to see combat. "I thank you, and I assure you that I intend to return alive."
"Juno," Marianne said gently, "can I ask you something?"
"If it pleases you," Juno replied.
"Why do you hate Ryan so much?" she blurted out. "I mean – I've known him pretty closely, and though he's not perfect, he's certainly not evil!"
There was a long pause before Juno spoke again.
"Miss Marianne," he said, "I will assume that you are not being impertinent, and that you truly wish to know. Because of the services you have rendered my dear mother, I believe you deserve an answer. Come, let us sit down comfortably."
They sat down on an old tree trunk, beneath the tree where Marianne had found him.
"This story took place in 288," Juno began. "It was a few years after Darington, and there were bandits loose – disgruntled citizens from that town, Zion army deserters, and the usual rogues. My father, Lieutenant Franz Juno, was the commanding officer of the Territorial Army troops at Davenport, and he had been warned that a valuable shipment of goods was coming to town, and that the bandits were aware of this."
"He prepared his troops for action, though they were young and inexperienced. The night before he died" – Juno closed his eyes – "a man met him – an Intelligence agent named Londes Kodenai. He warned my father that bandits, probably of Zionese origin, would attack Davenport. However, he went on to say that the bandits were probably involved in an elaborate fraud. They would attack one particular location, steal a shipment of goods that was actually illegal, and disappear. This shipment would then be taken across enemy lines to Caledonia, while the apparent victim of the theft would be generously reimbursed by his insurance company. Kodenai told my father that he had learned of this by eavesdropping on a Galvenian noble whom, he said, had long been under suspicion. He provided my father with details of the bandit attack, and told him to get ready to intercept them. Once this was done, and the bandits were captured, Kodenai would arrest the businessman involved in the entire fraud."
"Night fell. The bandits arrived earlier than expected, and from a different direction. My father's men panicked, though he tried to rally them. However, they were no ordinary bandits: they had magical weapons, and the Territorial Army was no match for them. Some of the men, including my father's friend, John Reckland, fled in terror. As they did, they realized to their horror that Kodenai was with the bandits – he was part of them all along. Fortunately, thanks to my father's efforts, the bandits did not get what they wanted. The next day, Kodenai visited the man's house and picked up his parcel, then disappeared. He was seen by several people, including my mother, though she only realized who he was when John explained it to us. He told us the entire truth, stood trial for desertion, and has helped us ever since."
Marianne looked at Juno with horror. "And that businessman was…"
"Theodore Eramond, Ryan's father," Juno replied, between clenched teeth. "What is worse, he and Kodenai – terrified by the fact that the ploy had not fully succeeded – spread a false story, claiming that my father, too, had turned and run. As a result, we only received half the pension we would have if he had been decorated for his valour. My mother, on hearing this – John kept us posted throughout – pleaded with him to tell the truth, but he laughed and shut the door in her face. And today, he is one of Davenport's upstanding citizens, a pillar of society, while my father – who died a hero – is unknown and unsung."
"Does anyone else know this?" Marianne said softly.
"Spenson does, Miss Marianne – and now you do. Spenson's late mother was a good friend of ours, and she was maid of honour on my parents' wedding day."
"Juno, I'm sorry," Marianne said. "I know that's hardly enough, but I'm truly sorry that you've had such a hard life."
"Well, I am hardly the only one, Miss Marianne," Juno replied. "I can see that life has been no bed of roses for you either."
"Well, I'm not complaining – at least not too much," she said, with a faint smile. "But couldn't they set the record straight?"
"John tried, and so did Colonel Hartford of the Territorial Army, his superior. Both of them were furious that the integrity of their troops was being impugned in this manner. But they were blocked through the machinations of nobles in Lorean, who were acting as conduits for the package. John heard that it might have been the Duke of Marksmith and his mother, but that was only a rumour."
"What was in that package?" Marianne wondered. "It must have been quite valuable, for it to cost so many lives and reputations."
"I found that out last year, when doing a little investigation of my own," Juno replied. "According to the insurance claim, the package contained three statues."
"All that over statues?" Marianne said, outraged.
"They were probably historical or magical artifacts, Miss Marianne," Juno replied.
"My father could find out what they were," Marianne mused. "He knows a lot of people in the right places, though he's not a big fish himself."
"That would be most helpful," said Juno.
"But – all right, I get it that Ryan's dad wronged you and your family, and probably did something criminal, though that's hard to imagine," Marianne said suddenly. "But does Ryan know about this?"
"A good point," Juno said, surprised. "I can only infer it from his behaviour, especially his constant barbs at our position in life. But it is entirely possible that he does not know. In that case" – his lips curved into a smile – "he will have quite a surprise when he finds out."
"You're not going to tell him, are you?" Marianne replied, looking worried.
"I am not as low as Theodore Eramond, Miss Marianne," Juno said quietly. "And now, I must leave. Thank you for your company, and I wish – I mean, I hope to see you someday, after this insane war is over."
"Me too, Juno," Marianne replied. "Take care, okay? Your mother and I will be waiting for you."
"I appreciate that, Marianne," he said, and she blushed. He held out his hand, and they shook hands. "Goodbye, and good fortune to you as well."
xxx
"Eramond," the man said, "a word with you, if I may."
"Agent Schenk!" Ryan's eyes opened wide, and he sat down on his bunk. "How did they let you into camp?"
"Oh, we have our means," Schenk said with a grin. "I've come to give you a little present. Call it an advance greeting for Saint Mikhail's Day."
"A present?" Ryan chuckled. "Funny time to be handing out a present."
"Cast your memory back, Captain Eramond," Jason said in a friendly tone. "Remember how this whole story began. You were delivering a parcel to Caledonia."
"Yes, I remember all too well," Ryan said ruefully.
"Do you have any idea what it contained?" Jason asked him.
"I'm afraid not," Ryan replied. "It was taken from me by a Zion officer named Shimura, after he and his thugs had finished manhandling me. By King Richard, it feels good to get back at them in this war."
"Well, that package did spend some time with the Zion, though it didn't do them much good," Jason said, shrugging his shoulders. "However, you might like to have it back."
"What on Terra for?" Ryan said, looking perplexed.
"There is a letter with it that will tell you the truth," Jason replied, placing both the letter and the package on Ryan's cot, "but I must leave now. Good luck, Captain Eramond."
And before Ryan could react, Jason had crept out of the tent, and disappeared into the winter night.
Picking up the envelope, Ryan opened it. It was bulky, and contained several sheets of paper: a letter, signed by Jason Schenk himself, and copies of several documents, some of them quite old. He looked at them with increasing dismay, unable to believe what he had read.
No, he told himself. This is impossible. This can't be.
As he came to the last page, he was close to despair – and then he stopped short, letting out a low cry. The last page was a map of the territory around Darington, with a circle marking a particular location in the hills outside the village of Victoria.
Scrawled at the bottom of the page was a single line, in Jason's writing.
The key to the depot is in the package. Make haste, before the Zion recover what is theirs.
Suddenly, he made his mind up.
The other thing – God, I don't want to think about it – can wait. At least now I understand why Schenk wants to help me, though. Blood is thicker than water, I guess. He smiled wryly. I'll run this by Rawley tomorrow, and I hope he's not playing games with me. This could mean everything for Galvenia – and for Carranya.
Oh, Carranya.
How can I face you, knowing what I know now?
He closed his eyes and tried to sleep, but he could not remove Jason's face – or his own father's – from before his eyes. Uneasy, he threw his blanket aside and picked up the parcel.
Suddenly, a wave of peace came over him. He opened it with a clumsy movement, revealing three crudely designed statues that seemed to glow red in the darkness. He did not know from where the realization came, but suddenly, he understood what he had to do. Words formed in his mind.
Everything will be all right.
I am not my father.
xxx
"Henrik!" Viola said excitedly, as she saw him walking down a corridor of King's College. "I wasn't expecting to see you so soon! Are you all right? Or have you been given a new mission?"
"Hey, good to see you again," Henrik replied. "I was looking for you, actually. Nothing too glamorous on the mission front, though. Things were a little quiet at the Citadel of Derren after Ryan and his men captured Ismar, so they've placed me on temporary guard duty. Five of us will escort Mother Anna from here to the Friary in the city, where the Pontiff is staying, and then we'll take both of them to the Palace. The Queen has offered them shelter there."
"How are things out there?" she said softly.
"Not too bad, though Ismar was a mess," he said ruefully. "Some of my platoon-mates didn't make it, others are in the hospital. The Zion fought like they were possessed."
"I'm sorry, Henrik," Viola replied. "Are you holding up all right?"
"I'm fine," he said calmly. "I'm just worried about Ryan. He's risen through the ranks very fast, and he's begun to fight almost like the Zion – taking no prisoners, showing very little pity. He does spare the civilians, though." He paused, then shook his head. "During the capture of Ismar, he even fought with the Mayor – both of them had magic weapons, somehow – and Ryan was ruthless. I wanted to ask him what happened, but we didn't have the time to talk. My friend Armin, who's in the Intelligence Service, was also concerned about him."
"Armin, the goof-off of our class?" Viola laughed. "He got into the Secret Service? They must have been desperate."
"He seems to be enjoying himself," Henrik replied. "It was uncanny – seeing Ryan use his sword to strike that man without even touching him. It was as if the whole sky was lit up by a sheet of lightning, and he fell and broke his skull."
"Ryan has magical abilities?" Viola's eyes widened. "Are you sure of this?"
"It certainly looked like that to me, and our leader, Sergeant Sean Wilson, said he was sure of it. He received a briefing on magical weapons when he was promoted to fight the Zion, and he explained that only someone who had 'the gift', as they call it in Zion, could use such a devastating attack."
"That's sort of frightening, actually," Viola replied. "For one man to have that much power…"
"Yes, I wonder too. But then, who am I to judge? Look at the two of us. We're ordinary people without such abilities, and therefore, such things unnerve us. But what if we had them? Would they just be something ordinary, like the ability to draw or play a musical instrument? Or would they change us?"
"They haven't changed me," Viola said softly, lowering her head.
"Huh?" Henrik said, wondering if he had heard her correctly. "What do you mean?"
"Henrik," Viola said, "would you mind if I – told you something?"
"Well, why not?" he replied. "Come, I'll get you a cup of tea. It's cold enough to freeze Ryan's lightning out there."
They made their way to the cafeteria, and sat down next to each other. Henrik ordered a pot of tea, and when they had both warmed themselves a little, Viola began to speak.
"Do you remember when we accompanied Mother Anna, Henrik?" she said. "Juno was about to drag her away, and then he was knocked down by the wind, allowing you to take care of him."
"Yes, I remember," Henrik said. "The Infinity works in mysterious ways."
"That wasn't the weather, Henrik," she replied. "That was me."
Henrik stared at her. "You mean you…."
"Yes," Viola said, blushing and beginning to tremble. "In the old days, they would have called me a wind mage, or a mistress of the wind, or something colourful like that. But today, people like me are just oddities."
"You're not an oddity," Henrik said warmly, "though I do like the sound of those old terms. How long have you known about this?"
"Since I was a little girl," she said. "The first time I found out was when Daddy was sent to Zion on an assignment, and Mummy and I went to see him off. I was sad to see him go – and suddenly a wind came up and almost blew his cloak over his head." She smiled. "Daddy knew about such things – there isn't much that sailors don't – and he asked me to try doing it again. I found I could do it almost at will – like waving my hands or singing. Mummy didn't know what to think, but Daddy convinced her that it was quite harmless. I'd stand near the beach, making waves near the shore, pushing the sand aside. It was fun, really. It was my little secret. I'd blow out the candles on birthday cakes with a little gust, and everyone would laugh, not knowing how I was doing it. I'd ruffle people's hair with a bit of wind, and they'd look puzzled."
"That changed when I was twelve. A man came to my house. He was from the Covert Operations Service, and had heard rumours about me. He said the Government was bringing in strict new rules about people who had 'the gift', and that I could be taken to Lorean and placed in an institution. Mummy and Daddy were very upset when they heard this, and so was I. He then offered me an alternative – he said that if I agreed to undergo testing at the Museum of Science and Lore, he could convince the authorities that I was harmless."
"I've never heard of this," Henrik said, puzzled. "The Museum of Science and Lore studies magic, sure, but the Galvenian government's never taken an official position on this."
"Daddy asked him about that," Viola said nervously, "and he explained that it was because the Queen, and some of the nobles at court – such as the Duke of Marksmith and his mother – were very religious, and saw magic as evil. In fact, he said that besides working for the Secret Services, he was a priest of the Church of Galvenia."
"The Church of Galvenia?" Henrik exclaimed. "The man's a con-man, Viola! There is no 'Church of Galvenia', at least none that I've heard of – and I've studied Church history quite carefully! He must have been a rogue mage or scientist. What did he want with you?"
"Unfortunately, he had official papers with him," Viola said, beginning to tremble again. Henrik placed a hand on her shoulders, and nodded encouragingly. "Daddy asked him for a day to think it over, and he returned the next morning – with a policeman."
"Sweet Infinity!" Henrik exclaimed.
"We were all scared. We talked about it for a while, and finally, we agreed to go to the Museum at Lorean. They promised us it would only take a day. After we got there, the man in priest's clothing took me into a section of the museum on the first floor, and I couldn't see my parents at all."
"At first, it was simple – he asked me to demonstrate what I could do, and he used a machine that glowed blue whenever I called up a gust of wind, taking down readings whenever I did. Then he placed me in a room with no air, gave me a mask to breathe, and asked me to try again. I couldn't. I remember him shouting at me, and then I felt sick, and then…"
Henrik patted her hand, but said nothing.
"I don't know how much time passed after that," she said, choking back a sob. "I woke up in another room, wearing a robe, something like a hospital gown. I couldn't find my clothes. My arms and legs were bruised, and my body ached all over. I was terrified. There was a sheet covering me, which looked like it was blood-stained, but I wasn't bleeding. I don't know if they withdrew some of my blood for testing….I began to cry, calling out for my mother and father, but all I could hear was the echo of my own voice."
Henrik's expression darkened, but he still remained silent, holding her hand.
"After what seemed like forever, the door opened, and the man came in. He handed me my clothes, and told me that I was all right – I wouldn't be able to use my abilities again. He apologized for the pain I was feeling – he said that I'd had a seizure, perhaps because I wasn't in control of my abilities. He gave me a potion to drink, and the pain slowly faded away, though I still felt weak. He waited outside while I got dressed, and then I was back with Mummy and Daddy again. I was so relieved, Henrik - I thought I'd never escape from there."
Henrik offered her his shoulder for support, and she was silent for a long while, apart from the deep breaths she drew as she tried to silence her own tears. This drew curious stares from the cafeteria's other occupants, but neither of them were particularly concerned.
After some time, she pulled away, and Henrik placed his hands on her shoulders.
"But he lied," he said quietly. "You still have the ability, don't you?"
"Not as I did before," she whispered. "I could use it only when I was feeling a strong emotion, like sadness or fear, but not at other times. I realized that after Daddy died, but I tried to forget about it – I didn't want to think about it anymore. That day in the woods with you and Mother Anna was the first time I actually tried to use it for anything useful."
"And it worked," Henrik said warmly. "You saved Mother Anna's life, and quite probably mine as well – if Juno hadn't been distracted at that moment, he would have used that crazy fire sword to silence us all. You made a difference, Viola. You're not an oddity, you're a heroine."
"Really?" Viola said timidly.
"Well, I'm sure Mother Anna will think so too. As for that man" – his expression turned angry – "if he ever crosses my path, I'll teach him a good lesson, one that he'll never forget. He had no right to perform an unauthorized human experiment, especially on my best friend. He's a criminal and a monster. What was his name?"
"I don't know," Viola replied, closing her eyes and leaning against him. "I did hear the coachman refer to him as Father, but that's all I know."
"Impersonating a clergyman's a crime, too," Henrik replied. "Well, if I ever come across that fine gentleman, he will receive a few bruises and blood-stains from my sword."
"And you're not afraid of me?" Viola asked hesitantly.
"Of course not – heck, if there was any 'mage' I'd be afraid of, it'd be Ryan and not you. But let me offer you a little diversion. How would you like a little carriage ride?"
"A ride?"
"Mother Anna needs someone to accompany her to the Friary, and then up to the Palace," Henrik explained. "According to the rules of her Order, she can't travel alone with a man, especially a bloodthirsty soldier like me. She asked for you, but only if you were free. I think she cares for you a great deal, especially after you looked after her. I came to ask you if you'd be willing to come."
"With you and Mother Anna?" Viola brightened and smiled. "Of course I will, Henrik! Come, let's get going!"
Henrik suddenly felt a light breeze blow through his already untidy hair, making it even untidier. He laughed.
"I thought you could only do that if you were afraid," he said.
"Fear isn't…" Viola began, then blushed.
"Isn't what?" Henrik probed.
"Isn't the only strong emotion, Private Spenson," she said, hiding her face in her shawl.
Henrik turned red up to his ears and smiled, but said nothing as they headed for Mother Anna's quarters.
xxx
"You failed us," Jason Lugner said, towering over Theodore Eramond, who seemed to shrink and cower behind his desk. Jason's smile had not left his face, but this did not comfort Theodore in the least.
"I failed you?" Theodore said feebly. "I allowed your men to wait in my warehouse. I introduced you to Clarissa Crenshaw. What happened after that was not my fault. Besides, I had no idea you were going to harm Lavie – Lavie, of all people! I know you don't think too highly of my family values, Jason, but that girl is like a daughter to me, and a sister to Ryan."
"Ah, Theodore – water was always thicker than blood for you, wasn't it?" Jason said with a smirk. "So, when Reckland and his men came around, you very kindly directed them to Clarissa's shop. It may please you to know that we are aware of your duplicity. But then, Mother could have told us a thing or two about that."
There is a limit beyond which no man can be pushed, and Theodore was close to reaching his. He stood up and glared at Jason, his hands shaking furiously. "Jason, do not cross that line," he said. "I will tolerate a good deal of nonsense from you, but I am warning you…"
Jason laughed. "It's a little late in the day to play the concerned father, Theodore Eramond. You might be interested in knowing that I handed a certain set of documents – and a parcel that has a very interesting history – to your precious son, Ryan Eramond. I would have given a million Commonwealth dollars to see his reaction to that, but I'm afraid I'll have to concede that pleasure to Jacob."
"You…..Please," Theodore said, turning grey. "Please tell me you didn't…"
"Crime and punishment, Theodore," Jason said, his grin stretching from ear to ear. "I wonder what he'll say to you on his next furlough – assuming he even bothers to come. The contents of that parcel will keep him absorbed for the rest of his life, if blood means more to him than it does to you."
"Curse you, Jason!" Theodore said impotently. "Curse you!"
"Tsk, tsk," Jason replied. "Such language from a man of your dignity and position. Now, enjoy the rest of your life, Theodore. As far as Jacob and I are concerned, we have nothing more to ask of you. If you should require our help, however, be mindful that it comes at a price."
Theodore slumped forward on his desk, his shoulders twitching, as Jason left the room.
"Goodness, you do seem to be meeting my husband quite often, Mr. Schenk," Sheila Eramond said, as he passed her by in the hallway. "Is anything wrong?"
"Oh, no," Jason replied pleasantly. "He's just working too hard, ma'am. Take good care of him."
xxx