CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Loss
ROUGH RIDERS….The legendary reputation of the Galvenian Rough Riders as an elite assault force has never been dented in the seven hundred years of the country's history, and gained in prestige during the last year of the Terran War. In particular, the Third Battle of Ismar was won largely through their efforts, under the command of Sir Prescott Chuselwock (q.v.)…
The post-war monarchy has embellished and expanded on this legend, to the point where the term Rough Rider now carries some of the awe and terror once associated with the Varald Divisions. This, again, can be traced to events that happened immediately before the aforementioned battle…
- ENCYCLOPEDIA GALVENICA, 24th Edition, C.Y. 347
The room was empty, except for the mirror in front of them. It was a large mirror, and it glowed a deep, rich red.
The man and woman who faced the mirror were, strictly speaking, not in the room, though their figures were standing before it. Their actual bodies were in the security of their own homes, facing smaller mirrors of a similar kind, and trembling with fear and anger. They had been summoned.
"You – you failed us," the man said, stammering with frustration and despair. "You promised us victory. Not a handful of women and children. Not humiliation in battle."
"My lord!" the woman replied, a look of terror on her face. "Do not address our master in this way."
A figure appeared on the large mirror – a bright figure, all brilliant light and white garments.
I never fail, worm.
"Forgive him, Master," the woman said. "He spoke out of ignorance."
Do not apologize for him, woman. Have you done all that I have told you?
"All except for the final vision, Master," she replied. "We will unleash it soon."
And you, my friend? The voice was condescending, but it also held an unmistakable threat. Are you not pleased with what I have done for you?
"I am, Master," the man said, perspiration dripping down the simulacrum of his face. "I am grateful."
Very well. Now, when are you going to offer me the final sacrifice?
"Soon, Master," the man replied. "As soon as my armies are ready for the blow, we will strike them both down."
You are slow, man. Pitifully slow. And you, woman? Have you and your friends corrupted the son of Aramondrius yet?
"He has already broken the seal, Master," she replied. "Already, he has learned to enjoy killing for its own sake, to neglect his loved ones, and to see himself as superior. He will soon be your willing tool."
No thanks to you. You are the ones who have failed me.
"Forgive us, Master," the man pleaded.
Remember that this is no battle of flesh and blood, you foolish, futile man. Will you wrestle with your God? Do you not know that I have power to damn you for all time?
"Spare us, Master, I beg you," the woman shrieked.
Only if you do not fail me. Deliver the last two sacrifices. Bring the son and daughter of darkness together. Once their unholy union is sealed, victory will be ours.
"I promise I shall not fail you," the man replied, and the woman nodded.
Then leave, and act at once. Men may forgive, but God does not forgive those who insult him.
The man and woman fell to their knees, gibbering, as the mirror slowly lost its glow and grew dark. They were alone.
xxx
Ryan looked at the telegram in front of him, feeling strangely numb. It was a warm summer day, a brief lull in the incessant hostilities between his men and the Zion.
YOUR FATHER SERIOUSLY ILL PLEASE COME IF YOU CAN
MUM
Let him die, he thought, and immediately suppressed the thought. Wait a minute – how can I even think a thing like that? He's my father, no matter what he may have done in the past.
But still – I can't forgive him. Not right now. And if he was dying, Mum would have been a little more frantic than that. He's an Aramondrius, after all. We're tough.
Still, I ought to send word or something…
"Eramond!" Major Rawley's crisp tones were commanding, and he stood to attention. "Get your gear. It's a Code Green."
"Code Green?" Ryan exclaimed. A Code Red was a border attack. A Code Blue was a new term the Rough Riders had made up to describe the packs of wild beasts that still plagued them. But a Code Green was a direct attack on either the Government, or the Palace. "How the hell did they reach Lorean?"
"No time for chatter, Captain," Rawley replied nervously. "The Zion have timed their attack well, the devils. They've launched a frontal attack on Victoria, and Sir Prescott has already gone out to tackle it. My men have to hold Ismar and Darington. You're the only one left."
"But how did they cross the border?" Ryan said helplessly. There was only one thought in his mind.
Carranya. No, please. Not Carranya.
Guilt at having forgotten her, at having allowed the excitement of his campaigns to drive her out of his mind, overwhelmed him.
"It looks like the work of mercenaries, Eramond," Rawley replied. "They attacked the gates yesterday, and Trask's guard repelled them, but they've returned in larger numbers now. They call themselves the War Hawks, and are Zion sympathizers. Trask himself is critically injured. Take your best men, and two divisions of the new recruits, and God speed!"
"I will, Sir," Ryan replied, and began to prepare his men with the speed that came from almost two years at the front. Before they fully realized it, they were marching on Lorean Castle, with as many cannons as they could spare in tow. His father was completely forgotten.
As they drew near, they cut across the troops and police officers guarding the city streets, and as Ryan – at the front of his forces – approached the bridge to Lorean Castle, he noted, to his horror, that smoke was rising from its turrets.
Please, he said, praying to no one in particular. Please, let me not be too late….
xxx
"It's an alert, Viola," Doctor Sherman said, his coat-tails fluttering as he peeked into the entrance of the children's ward. "Stay inside the ward, and don't go outside until they tell us we can."
"What happened, Doctor?" Viola gasped.
"Some fools calling themselves 'War Hawks' have attacked the Palace, and Officer Trask has ordered the streets sealed to prevent their escape. Some of them might seek refuge in a hospital…."
He had no chance to complete his sentence, as he was stunned by a blow to the back of his head. A man, wearing the black suit of a priest, entered the room, carrying a heavy cudgel.
"Don't move, girl," he said. "You're all dead. All of you."
"Never!" Viola cried. "Children, come with me!"
The three children in the ward – two of whom could hardly walk – began to crawl out of their beds. Frantically, as the man began to gain on them, she dragged them into Doctor Sherman's small laboratory and bolted the door.
"Hide behind me," she said frantically, as the children huddled in a corner, whimpering.
"You can't escape," the man growled. To her horror, the door caught fire, and began to burn slowly, though the flames spared the rest of the room.
"I want those samples," the man screamed. "I'll take them even if it means your death. And those children can join you."
"No…" Viola said, helplessly, as he emerged through the ring of flame, seemingly untouched by it. "Daddy…..Henrik, save me! Please!"
The man drew a knife and laughed. "It's more enjoyable this way," he said, and slashed forward, cutting Viola's cheek. She began to bleed, but still tried to shield the children, cowering in a corner.
He raised the blade – and then collapsed, as the sound of three gunshots echoed in the tiny room. A glass beaker broke, and Viola screamed. The intruder lay bleeding at her feet.
Three men rushed into the room.
"Good work getting here so soon, soldier," the first of them said. "Tamas, throw this scum out. Soldier boy and I will clean out the room."
"Thank the Head Honcho up above that Trask warned us," Armin Tamas said, lowering his gun and handcuffing the man, who was still alive, then chaining him to one of the cots. Next to him and the other man was Henrik, the tip of his rifle still smoking.
"Henrik!" Viola cried out, and rushed towards him, shaking with fear. He caught hold of her as she swayed, helped her to a seat, and examined the wound on her cheek.
"Shh, it's all right," he murmured, kneeling in front of her. "We heard that the War Hawks – they're mercenaries in the pay of the Zion, it seems – wanted to attack this place and steal your samples, so Ryan sent some of us here. It's over. And it's just a scratch. I'm here. You'll be all right."
"Thank you – oh, thank you, Henrik," Viola said brokenly.
"The sample's ruined, though," Armin said ruefully. "Viola must have bled into it when that dude slashed at her." He held up a circular glass dish, which contained a smooth, waxy substance that was now stained with blood. "At least they can't have it."
Viola looked at the sample, then caught her breath. "It – it's not glowing any more," she said.
"Is it supposed to?" Armin said curiously. "I didn't know bugs had electricity!"
"Yes, these microbes have a curious property of glowing red," she said softly. "I – I don't understand."
"Leave it to the good doc," Armin said kindly, as Henrik and the other agent helped Doctor Sherman rise to his feet. "Meanwhile, I'll put the little ankle-biters back in bed!"
Picking up the children, Armin entertained them with a rather remarkable array of monkey-faces and replaced them in their cots, then tucked them in.
"You'll make a fine father someday, Armin," Henrik teased him.
"Very funny, Spenson," Armin shot back. "Hey, doc, sorry we ruined your sample, okay? Though technically it wasn't us, it was this 'War Hawk' jackass here."
"Ruined my sample?" Sherman said, bemused. "What do you mean?"
"Here, have a look," Armin replied, taking the small dish from Viola and showing it to him. Sherman's eyes widened, and he nearly fainted a second time.
"Sweet Infinity!" he exclaimed. "You mean all it takes is a little blood? It can't be that simple. I mean, that's not how science works. This plague has baffled the best minds in Galvenia, and now you're telling me that there's something in an ordinary young girl's blood that works where heat, alcohol and electricity have failed? What next, apple pie?"
"Actually", Henrik said, as he walked towards the doctor, supporting Viola and holding a compress to her cheek, "'ordinary' may not be the right word here, Doctor. I have a little idea."
xxx
The War Hawks – as they called themselves – were numerous and fought brutally, but they were no match for Ryan's trained men and their weapons. After a short, sharp skirmish that lasted hardly an hour, he led his troops into Lorean Castle.
"Sean," Ryan called out to Sergeant Wilson, "take the twenty men with you and look around the lower floor. My intuition is that these animals are targeting the King and the Queen."
"Roger, Ryan," Sean Wilson replied, as he and his men began cordoning off the Ministerial quarters. They encountered only token resistance, and neither Sheffield nor his cabinet had suffered any harm, for they had locked themselves in the secure room as soon as the alarm had been raised. Only three guards were wounded, and Wilson began to move them out.
Ryan, in the meantime, led his men up the stairs into the Palace, his heart pounding.
Carranya – please, Carranya, be all right. Please.
As he went past the quarters of the Royal Servants, they came upon several of the War Hawks in the Chamberlain's room looting with abandon. The bodies of guards and menservants lay on the floor, bleeding.
"Take this trash out!" Ryan said angrily, drawing his sword and snarling. A wave of red light shot forth from his sword, and three of the men before him dropped dead, while the others, stunned and terrified, were easily overpowered by his troops.
"What is that weapon, Eramond?" a voice suddenly called out. Ryan, surprised, turned back to see Juno, in his private's uniform, looking at him suspiciously.
"Juno? What the hell are you doing here?" Ryan said irritably.
"Serving my country, Eramond, just as you ought to," he replied. "Once again, I ask you: what is that weapon? Who authorized you to use it?"
Ryan looked at Juno with anger, and before the latter could react, he lunged forward with his sword. Juno fell to the ground, twitching.
"Captain," one of the soldiers said nervously, "what's going on?"
"That man's a traitor," Ryan replied calmly. "Detain him with the rest of the Hawk survivors."
"A traitor?" a burly private said angrily. "Off to the brig with him!"
With one contemptuous look at the fallen Juno, Ryan led the rest of his men up to the Royal Family's quarters themselves, looking at the blood-stained trail of the War Hawks with mounting despair, hoping against hope.
"You villains!" King Arlbert shouted, his voice filling the entire Throne Room. "Have you no love for your country? Are you not Galvenians?"
Queen Katarina, pale-faced and silent, crouched in a corner of the room, with the Princess standing resolutely in front of her.
"We do not serve you, false leader," the man at the head of the troop of mercenaries replied coldly. He was wearing a silver and black uniform, and like his thirty comrades, his armour carried the stylized image of a bird of prey. "We denounce you" – he pointed his gun at the King – "your consort" – he pointed it at the terrified Queen – "and your false prophet."
"My daughter is not a false prophet!" Arlbert roared.
"I do not mean your daughter," the man replied. "I mean him." He pointed at Father Eugene Thomssen, who had been seized by two of his men and was almost in tears.
"This is treason!" Thomssen moaned. "You swore loyalty to me, Jakovites! You were my men!"
"The War Hawks belong to no one, Your Reverence," the first man replied. "And we have learned things about you that fill us with the utmost revulsion, you disgusting little beast. Would you like the King and Queen to hear some of them, before we kill you slowly?"
"Mercy!" Thomssen wailed. "Please, spare me!"
"We will dispose of you in order of importance," the man said. "First, the false leader." He fired, and Arlbert collapsed to the ground, clenching his teeth. Carranya let out a cry, and rushed to his side.
"Father!" she sobbed, cradling his head. "Father, are you…."
"Weep not for me, my little child," Arlbert said, his expression softening. "Galvenia shall never be conquered. You shall rule in my stead…"
Carranya turned around in a flash, raised her hands, and a beam of brilliant light struck the Hawk commander. However, he seemed unconcerned, and stepped back."
"Ah, you fight bravely, child," he replied. "But the War Hawks have no quarrel with you. Next, the consort."
He raised his gun again and fired. Queen Katarina fell, a dark stain appearing on the side of her royal robes, and as she struck the ground, the door fell open, with a sound like a thunderclap. The room was filled with a strong wind, and the Hawk commander found himself knocked to his knees.
"Treason!" he shouted. "We have been betrayed!"
"Correction, you swine," Ryan replied, drawing his pistol and firing at him several times, watching him jerk and shudder with each shot. "You have been defeated."
Stunned, the War Hawks tried to rally, but Ryan's men quickly overpowered most of them. In a very short time, they were overpowered, and most of them lay dead.
"Your Majesty!" Ryan exclaimed, running to the Queen's side. "C – Princess, what happened?"
"It was horrible, Ryan…" Carranya said, weeping. "They killed Father – and they – Oh, Mother, no…."
"Get them to the surgeon, quick!" Ryan ordered his men, and stretchers were quickly produced. The Queen was quickly evacuated, while Carranya, white-faced, stood by Ryan, unable to move and leaning on him for support.
"Who's this guy?" one of the privates said, catching hold of Thomssen, who was lying in a corner, blood on his lips.
Ryan looked at the priest, and then looked at Carranya's terrified expression. His hand wavered on his sword.
If you kill him, my son, you will be doing him a service.
What on Terra? Ryan thought. The voice was of an older man, calm and authoritative.
"Take him to the medics as well," he said. "We'll question him later."
"Ryan," Carranya sobbed, "take me to Mother. Please, let me be with her."
"As you wish, Carrie," Ryan said tenderly, as he took her by the hand and led her behind the stretcher that carried the unconscious Queen. "Clear up in here, boys. I think we're done for now."
xxx
"Mr. Evens?" Lavie knocked at the door, then pushed it open. "Mr. Evens, it's me, Lavie! I got your wire and came around at once, and Carmen sent some of her cookies along!"
As she looked past the door and into the office of Mann Island Archery Academy's Headmaster, her parcel fell from her hands, and she stared in shock at the sight before her.
Joshua Evens was sitting behind his desk, but the room had been ransacked, and a large arrow stuck out of his shirtfront. The gaily embroidered cloth on the tabletop was caught between his hands, as he tugged at it helplessly.
"Mr. Evens!" Lavie rushed to his side, feeling for a pulse. "Wh – what happened?"
"Lavie…" Joshua Evens smiled. "At least I get to see my favourite pupil before….I die….."
"Mr. Evens," Lavie said, shaking her head in dismay and confusion. "Wait here, I'll get help!"
"No, Lavie…" Joshua Evens replied. "Take this…"
Gathering the last of his strength, he pointed to a decorative quiver that stood on the wall behind him. "Papers….in there….take them and hide them, Lavie. Don't keep…..dangerous. Mustn't…..Thomssen…Lugner…..lady…mustn't get them…..don't tell…..anyone…."
"Thompson?" Lavie said, choking down a sob. "Mr. Evens, what's going on?"
"Proud….of you, Lavie…" A half-smile tugged at one corner of the Headmaster's mouth, and he slumped down in his chair.
In a daze, Lavie reached inside the quiver, and drew out three arrows, around which sheets of paper were rolled. Quickly, she took them and placed them in a pocket of her hunting jacket…
"Stop right there!"
Lavie froze, then turned around.
"Lieutenant Huntington? And Captain Reckland?" She relaxed, then shook her head. "What's going on?"
"You need to get back to Davenport right away," Huntington said. "A group of renegades, known as War Hawks, have just attacked the Palace, and we've received intelligence that they may attack Mann Island. We received orders to evacuate all civilians from here."
"Sweet Infinity, what happened?" Reckland said, looking at the late Joshua Evens. "That's – terrible. Did you find him, Miss Regale?"
"I'm afraid so," she said. Reckland escorted her out of the room, while Huntington made a call on his portable radio.
"My men will take him back to Davenport," he said, after a few minutes. "Now, Miss, you'll need to come with us."
I need to hide those papers! Lavie thought. But how? Yes, that's it!
"Captain Reckland," she said suddenly, "can I just pay my respects at Gran's grave? I'll be back soon."
"They won't reach for another two hours at least," Huntington replied, examining his watch. "How far is it?"
"About fifteen minutes," Reckland replied. "I'll come with you."
Lavie frowned, and Reckland sensed her hesitation. "It's just for your safety – and besides, I need to look and see if there are any young folks in the woods, and evacuate them too. I'll wait for you near the path leading to her cottage, and if you need me, just call."
Lavie smiled. "Thank you so much, Captain," she replied. "That's very kind of you."
"Just doing my job," Reckland replied. "Our ships are arriving from Serin's Peak to defend the island now, which is why you need to get out soon."
"But where are these 'War Hawks' coming from?" Lavie said, fear in her eyes.
"It's a long story," Reckland replied. "Come, let's get going, so that we can leave as soon as possible."
A short walk later, Lavie knelt down at her grandmother's grave.
Gran, she said, I know you're watching. Thank you for all that you ever did for me. I hope I've chosen my hiding place wisely, and that I can come back and get it later. I don't know what it all means, but I'll try to do what's right. I love you, Gran.
It seemed to Lavie that she heard her grandmother's familiar voice in reply, carried on the summer breeze, and she smiled.
No one will find it there! Except Ryan, perhaps.
Standing up, she returned to the path, where the Captain was waiting quietly for her.
xxx
Far away, in the woods that separated the Galvenian stronghold at Ismar from the large Zion town of Jashin, where their forces had mustered in large numbers, the battle raged.
Sir Prescott's men were pushed back several times, only to return in one raid after another. Though the Zion forces were numerous, the Rough Riders had the edge on them in terms of strategy, and they soon suffered ruinous losses.
Scenting a defeat that would literally mean the end of the war for them – for Jashin was not too far from Caledonia – the Zion lined up their cannon en masse, bringing them back from the line at Victoria, and began to fire desperately.
However, Sir Prescott then switched flanks, using Rawley and his men to break the supply and transport line between Victoria and Ismar. This was dangerous, for the Zion were simultaneously attempting to recapture Victoria, but it worked. The Zion force was split into three islands, and the remaining divisions, under Sir Prescott, overwhelmed them. Though they frantically tried to regroup, one of the divisions pushed forward directly into Jashin, capturing some of the cannons and turning them upon their owners.
Sir Prescott, leading from the front, watched the Galvenian flag rise over Jashin, and watched the returning forces from Lorean return to take control of the Darington-Victoria road, when he was thrown to the ground by a stray grenade, fired in spite as part of a suicidal attack by Zion forces fleeing the city.
"Sir Prescott!" Rawley exclaimed. "Sir, are you…."
"Take me back to the camp, Rawley," Prescott said, with a smile. "I'm afraid it's….serious." He was breathing with difficulty, and when he coughed, blood came to his lips.
"No," Rawley said, his eyes widening in horror, and his grip on his sword loosening. Sir Prescott was the Rough Riders. To think of him as being in danger was impossible to him.
"Lead the rest of the men in, Rawley…." he said calmly. "And don't weep…..We are soldiers, and we are Rough Riders."
He closed his eyes, and several of his men carried him away on a stretcher. The atmosphere on the battlefield was funereal despite the fact that, barring a series of acts of God, the war against the Zion was essentially won.
xxx
When the smoke had cleared, certain facts were now clearly and painfully visible.
The Zion had been pushed back almost to the five towns known as the Dependencies of Caledonia. If one of them were captured, the Galvenian Army would have a direct route into the Capital. Hunermann, looking at what seemed to be the wreckage of his hopes, cursed and swore, and Maximillian I was a shadow of his former self. Charlemagne made a further public appearance, looking more vigorous and swearing revenge on the Galvenians, but his words had little effect on them.
The "War Hawks" – or at least those who were captured – provided little information to their captors, despite Doctor Roper's best efforts and the Intelligence Service's most ominous threats. Whether they were connected to the group that had taken Chespa Bay was unclear, and no one seemed able to trace their antecedents.
King Arlbert of Galvenia was dead. Queen Katarina, recovering from her injuries, was a pale shell of her already shell-like self, and Parliament was deadlocked on when to publicly announce the ascent to the throne of Princess Carranya, the only heir presumptive.
Sir Prescott's wounds were grave, and though the surgeons at Lorean had done their best for him, he was living on borrowed time.
The attack on Mann Island was foiled, and after several days of watchful waiting, its bewildered inhabitants were returned to their homes from the temporary shelters at Davenport.
Ryan and his forces, after having repelled the attack on the Palace, though there was much mourning and prayer for Sir Prescott. A shaken Hunermann had contacted Prime Minister Sheffield, and it was rumoured that a cease-fire was imminent.
In the Palace, where she and Lady Rochelle had been keeping a near-constant vigil at her mother's bedside, Princess Carranya was only dimly aware of most of these things. Her heart was heavy, and she wished with all her heart that her mother would recover, and that Ryan would somehow return.
"Carranya," Lady Rochelle said, coming out of her mother's room and looking grave, "your mother wishes to speak to you. She says it is a matter of great urgency."
Without a word, Carranya took her companion's hand and entered her mother's room, sitting at her bedside.
"Mother, I am here," she said simply.
"Rochelle, leave us," Queen Katarina said feebly. "I wish to speak to my daughter alone."
Lady Anton nodded, then left the room quietly.
"Carranya," the Queen said softly. "A great responsibility lies on your shoulders, and I do not know if you realize it. But it is better that you face it than your poor father. May his soul rest in peace."
"Tell me what it is, Mother, and I shall do my best," Carranya said earnestly.
"First of all, my child, I must ask for your forgiveness," the Queen replied with a sweet smile, one quite unlike her usual sour expression. "I know that I have often been stern with you, and it is partly my fault that you sought to break those shackles. I can only offer you one justification – that I was afraid."
"Afraid?" Carranya shook her head.
"Afraid that you would follow your father's path, my daughter," the Queen replied. "I now see that I was wrong. Even in the midst of trials, you remained virtuous. And it is on your account that God has blessed me."
"There is no need to apologize, Mother," Carranya said gently. "But what is this blessing you speak of?"
"Last night, my child, after you sang me to sleep and left the room, I saw a vision – it was not a dream, for I was awake. I saw a distant figure on a throne, with our glorious ancestor, King Richard Lionheart, kneeling at his feet. A voice came forth from the throne, telling me that I would be blessed in my daughter, and healed of my wounds. But the voice also asked me to instruct you thus: That you marry the Duke of Marksmith at the earliest, as it would be through this union that the Kingdom would be restored, and would triumph over the Zion. We must not delay, Carranya. God cannot be defied."
Carranya bowed her head and closed her eyes, a wistful smile on her lips as she thought of the only man she would ever truly want to marry. "I understand, Mother," she said. "I will do as you say."
xxx
In a house in Davenport, a similar scene, though of a more melancholy nature, was playing out. A frantic telegram from Sheila Eramond to Lorean, accompanied by a carriage kindly provided by the Regales, meant that Ryan, much against his will,
"Ryan," Theodore Eramond said, lying in bed and looking at his son in his Captain's uniform, "how proud I am – but I have no right to say this. I'm sorry, Ryan."
"You – you know that I know, right?" Ryan said, looking at him with a mixture of pity and contempt.
"It's not what you think, Ryan," Theodore said, clutching at his chest. "Sheila, please wait outside. I have to speak to my boy."
Sheila looked at her son sadly, then left. "Come closer, Ryan," Theodore said. "I know Sigmund's offered me a doctor from Lorean, but my time has come."
"Dad…" Ryan began. Moving slowly, he sat down stiffly in the chair that his mother had just vacated. His father began to speak, quickly and softly, as if trying to tell his story before death overtook him.
"You know I tried, and failed, to join the Commonwealth Special Forces," Theodore said heavily, shaking his head. "Though Father was sympathetic, I could tell that he was disappointed. I travelled to Alton to work as an apprentice accountant there, and I found a job with a dealer in magical goods. His name was Janus Albrut."
"I was lonely, and Janus' daughter, Linda, was perhaps my only friend in those gloomy months. Father was opposed to our friendship for some reason, but I – I fell in love, Ryan. Try to understand. Sometimes, these things can't be helped."
"I know what you mean," Ryan replied kindly, thinking of Marianne.
"When I told Father of our plans to marry, he threatened to disinherit me. It was at that time that I made the acquaintance of Sigmund Regale, Lavie's father, and of Colin Erasmus, a young Conservative party worker at Alton. Theywere sympathetic, and Linda and I were married in secret. I led a double life – spending my summers in Alton, and my winters building up my own little business in Davenport. I would do Sigmund, and some of his noble friends, favours – delivering goods that were less than legal – but I was happy, Ryan. Not quietly happy, as I was with Sheila, but – almost intoxicated. We had a son, Jacob. Life was good."
He closed his eyes, a tear suddenly running down one cheek. "Then it happened. Linda was expecting our second child, and she was having a hard time of it. On the day when she was about to give birth, Father fell ill. I was torn, Ryan. But I was also a coward. I asked Colin to fetch a doctor, and I rushed to Davenport to see to Father. He recovered, but by the time I could return to Alton, two days later, my second son, Jason, was born, and Linda – was dead." He sighed. "Her father and I buried her quietly in Alton, and I left the boys with him. It wasn't the right thing to do – Janus was hardly a good example, and even Linda suspected him of dealing in cursed goods and illegal articles – but then I'm hardly a beacon of morality either." He smiled wryly.
"Dad…" Ryan said, shaking his head.
"Unfortunately, by then I'd met your mother, and Father was strongly in favour of the match. It would have been perfect – you know your mother, Ryan, and she's always been a good wife to me – except for my children. I caved. I asked Colin and Sigmund to help me, and they contacted a priest in Lorean, who took the boys into a Church home. I married Sheila, and I had you. Eramond Delivery Services prospered. Things were looking up once more."
"But someone up there clearly didn't like me. My sons, who were now in a boarding school, had begun to associate with their grandfather again, and fell foul of the law. I often had to bail them out of trouble, and my purse was hit hard They were involved in all sorts of dubious things – black market trade, espionage, and even a spot of banditry. I asked Sigmund to help me, but he was reluctant. Finally, in despair, I turned to the priest in Lorean, and he put me in touch with a group of nobles at Lorean. They offered me a deal: they would pay off my sons and ask them to leave the country, if I'd do them a favour and help them pass an illegal parcel to Zion."
"Unfortunately, something went wrong. Some damn fool Territorial Army soldiers, trying to be heroes, interfered with the scheme. Though I did keep up my end of the deal, our secrecy was compromised, and my noble friends were displeased, and kept the boys hanging over my head like a sword. I've had to do them – ahem – favours from time to time. And now, those two rascals are on the loose, involved in God knows what devilish schemes."
His breathing grew shallow, and his lips turned blue. His voice grew louder, and his tone now suggested panic.
"There is more, but – Ryan – No! Ryan, please – please…" His hands went to his chest once more, and he writhed in pain. "Ryan – forgive me…."
He shuddered, then lay still. Sheila, alerted by his cries, came running in.
"What happened?" she said, though she knew the answer to her question as soon as she saw Theodore lying still.
"He's gone," Ryan said simply.
"Theo!" she exclaimed, rushing to his side. "Theo – oh, no…."
With one last look at the remains of his father, Ryan turned on his heel and left.
xxx