1 State of Grace (32 page)

***

Gerarden was almost there. He could pick out the faces of each of the ministers in the cabinet clearly. He need only make it a few more yards. The explosive energy of the spell in his wand should be more than efficient to kill them all. He couldn’t help but smile. He was going to Heaven after all.

Chapter 42: Living Bomb

Yevgeni Tupelov finished buckling on his armor. He clipped his scabbard to his belt and put his sword in it. Soon, the blood of elves would stain it.

It was all before him now. Phrygia’s great moment of conquest was at hand. He would lead the attack that would change the face of the political landscape worldwide. After today, no one would dare challenge Phrygia again. Even the mighty Urlanders would be cowed, and their fragile alliance with the other Western nations would crumble. Bretelstein would be in Phrygian hands. Gallica, Patria, and Celia wouldn’t dare to protest.

But that was getting ahead of himself. Today, the conquest of Jifan began. When his troops arrived at Eranbul, the real fighting would begin. Jifanis were zealots. They would fight hard to protect their lunacy.

He turned to leave but was surprised to see someone standing in the doorframe. It was dark, and his face was cast in shadow.

“Good evening, Comrade General,” the stranger said. “It seems you think you are going somewhere.”

“Who are—” Yevgeni began, but he was cut off.

“It is I, Major Davidov,” the stranger answered.

He pushed off the doorframe in which he’d been leaning and came into Yevgeni’s office. With his face out of shadow, Yevgeni could see he was angry.

“What do you want here?” Yevgeni demanded.

“I am here to arrest you, Comrade,” Davidov said. “You sent agents to murder Shadowcat and I. Unfortunately, you only succeeded in half the job.”

“Arrest me,” Yevgeni spat. Did this fool really think he could get away with that? Yevgeni drew his sword. “I think not. I have other plans.”

“I am not interested in dueling you, General Tupelov,” Davidov said. “You will come quietly, or these men will cut you to pieces.”

Four soldiers wearing the black uniform of the PDB and carrying swords rushed into the room from behind Davidov. Yevgeni laughed.

“I am one of the greatest swordsmen in Phrygia,” he said. “Your men are no threat to me.”

“Individually, perhaps not,” Davidov responded. “But even a warrior as good as yourself can’t fight four other men at once. Drop your weapon.”

Yevgeni looked over the odds. He didn’t like them. Still, he needed to fight his way out of this if he was going to survive.

Just then, he saw Davidov throw something at him. A second later a black Shadow hand had him gripped by the throat.

“I said,” Davidov growled, “drop your sword.”

Cold, dark fingers dug into his windpipe. It became difficult to breathe. Reflexively, he dropped his weapon and put his hands to the disembodied hand strangling him. It was cold. He felt a palpable sense of evil when he touched it.

The pressure increased. He couldn’t get any air. His heart was beating rapidly. He started to panic.

No matter how he tried, he couldn’t get it to let go. He became light-headed. Consciousness started to fade.

And then the hand was gone. Yevgeni fell to his knees gasping for breath. He looked up as Davidov slowly walked up to him.

“For what you did to Shadowcat,” Davidov said, “I should kill you. But I think it will be worse punishment if I turn you over to the authorities and let them strip you of your rank and send you to a
gulag
.”

“You ... are a fool,” Yevgeni said. “Had you left me alone, Phrygia would have been the dominant power in the world.”

“At what cost, Comrade?” Davidov said. “You would make war to satisfy your thirst for conquest. There is no glory in sending young men to their deaths for your personal grandeur.

“Guards, get him out of my sight.”

***

“Look out!” Wolf yelled.

May Honeyflower turned her attention to him. He was fighting his way through the crowd towards the government officials. He was screaming for people to get out of the way and to look out.

She scanned the temple, looking for the source of his distress. After a moment, she spotted it. Someone else was moving against the current of the crowd. He wore white robes and a hood, and, like Wolf, he was headed straight towards the president. She saw him draw something from his sleeve.

Honeyflower checked Wolf’s progress against the elf’s. The assassin was going to get there first.

***

Gerarden’s heart was racing. He was nearly on top of the government. He was too close for anyone to stop him now. He gripped his wand tightly and prepared to cast his spell.

***

Aurora didn’t understand what she was seeing. Dasher was elbowing his way past people in her direction and screaming for them to get out of the way and for her to look out. Had he gone mad? Had he seen an assassin?

“Wand!” Honeyflower yelled. She took aim with her crossbow in the general direction of the coalition government.

Aurora began looking wildly around. Within seconds, she caught sight of an elf in white robes and a hood. He had a wand in his hand and a wild look in his eyes. He stared at her murderously.

Oh, God
, she thought.
I’m going to die
.

“For the glory of Alfheim!” he shouted.

***

Wolf heard the assassin’s cry and saw him start to wave his wand. Wolf was almost there. He stopped being nice.

He belted an elf in the mouth, knocking her flat so he had a clear path to the president. Then he sprinted as fast as he could and dived at Aurora Spellbinder.

She didn’t see him coming. She was staring at the terrorist.

Wolf hit her just above the waist and wrapped his arms around her. His momentum carried the both of them into Minister Lumendrake and two other officials. All of them crashed to the ground just as the assassin went off like a living bomb.

Wolf felt an incredible heat come at him like a wave in the ocean. Then he felt searing, unbearable pain and knew nothing more.

Chapter 43: Not Fit to Travel

(Eleven Days after Revelation Day)

Mustique Starfellow travelled down the narrow corridor in darkness to his inner sanctum. When he reached it, he pulled a prayer mat from under the simple bed, unrolled it and knelt upon it. He prayed quickly to Frey for strength and wisdom. Then he did what he needed to do.

“What is thy bidding, my master?” he said.

There was a very brief pause. Then there was a flash of light and a dark form hovered in the air before him.

“Have you made a full assessment of the damage,” it asked in a dripping, cold voice.

“Yes, Master,” he answered. “Seven of our agents were arrested. Four escaped. The fifth set off his wand attempting to salvage the mission. He killed two ministers and injured four others. Most of the cabinet, including the president survived, largely due to the interference of the Urlander.

“The Phrygians hit the Urlish base, but the Urlanders had been forewarned. The attack succeeded only in preventing them from responding to the bombing at the temple, but, as you know, that mattered little.

“Silverleaf is in custody of the coalition government. Since losing the Hand of Destiny, he has expressed remorse for his actions and cooperated with the prosecution. They still view treason severely, and he may be executed despite recanting his actions.”

“What is the status of the Sons of Frey?”

“Still largely intact, Master,” Starfellow said. “However, public opinion now strongly favors President Spellbinder’s call for unity and understanding.”

“Then this operation would appear to be a setback,” the master said.

“I am afraid so,” Starfellow admitted. He feared the reaction he would get.

But the master didn’t appear to be angry. He said nothing for a moment.

“You will have to find a new means to destabilize the government. I want you to refrain from any overt activity for the next few months. Concentrate on recruitment. We will allow them to think we have lost strength. When the time is right, we will hit them harder than before.

“In the meantime, I want to learn all there is to know about this Wolf Dasher. He presents a new threat to us.”

“Yes, my master,” Starfellow said.

“Patience, Mustique,” the master said. “This is far from over.”

***

Micah Bartleby still couldn’t believe what he was about to witness. He stood before Her Majesty the Queen with Julius Quincy at his side. Several other dignitaries were also present, including Grand Marshal Sidney Hastings, the supreme commander of Her Majesty’s Armed Forces; Grand Admiral Willoughby Smythe, supreme commander of Her Majesty’s Navy; Lord John Roy, Ambassador from Her Majesty’s Government to Phrygia; and Lord Winston Cavill, Her Majesty’s Chancellor.

They and a number of other important courtiers were assembled to hear the formal apology of Andrei Vishenko, Ambassador from the People’s Republic of Phrygia. Micah had never heard the Phrygians apologize for anything, let alone something as embarrassing as
Operation: Hammerfall
.

The truth was Urland still didn’t know all the details of the Phrygian plan. Shadow Six had uncovered a part of it, and they knew it was supposed to create an anti-Urland alliance between Alfar and Phrygia. But many of the finer points of how the Phrygians hoped to pull off their end of things were never fully uncovered.

Still, it had been enough that Lord Roy had openly suggested Phrygia had committed an act of war, and Chancellor Cavill had, on Her Majesty’s authority, put all Urlish military units on high alert and doubled the size of the force on the Urlish side of the border in Mensch, Bretelstein. For a week, the two sides had stared each other down, with open war threatening to become a real possibility. Then, seemingly without any warning, the Phrygian premier ordered his ambassador to make a formal apology to their Urlish rivals.

So here they were. Her Majesty had ordered the heads of all her defense departments to attend. Thus, Micah, as the head of Shadow Service, and Quincy, as head of Magic Division, were both required to be there. Not that Micah minded. He wanted to see the Phrygian grovel.

Presently, Ambassador Vishenko came forward. He was an old man, and he looked like he hadn’t eaten in two months. His face was gaunt, and his back was bowed. But there was an energy to him. Micah was sure this man had a lot of life left in him. A sparkle in his eyes suggested he was capable of much more than he appeared.

“Your Majesty,” Ambassador Vishenko began. “Honored guests, on behalf of Premier Mishkin, the Politburo, and the People of Phrygia, I humbly apologize for the conduct of General Yevgeni Tupelov. His actions and his plot against Urland and Jifan were not authorized or endorsed by the People’s Government.

“His despicable, unwarranted, and unauthorized attack on your military base in Al-Adan, Alfar is regrettable and unfortunate. We apologize for this reprehensible incident.

“Likewise, we regret the murder of your agent at the hands of Viktor Krilenko. This individual was not properly assigned to General Tupelov by anyone in authority at the People’s Defense Bureau. In fact, it was the work of several industrious agents within the PDB that uncovered the illegal directive
Operation: Hammerfall
that resulted in the actions against your country and its interests.

“Please rest assured General Tupelov has been disciplined in the severest manner possible.”

Micah wasn’t sure it was as severe as possible. He hadn’t been executed, but he had been demoted all the way to lieutenant and then dishonorably discharged before being sentenced to a lifetime of hard labor.

“The People of Phrygia deeply regret all the harm caused by General Tupelov and Captain Krilenko,” Vishenko continued. “Of course, these actions were unsanctioned and unauthorized, so we cannot assume full responsibility for them.”

Of course not
, Micah thought.
An apology only goes so far between governments.

The Queen sucked in a disdainful breath through her nose. She was no longer young, but her face had a distinguished beauty to it. Her red hair was turning grey, but only at the temples at the moment. If anything, her silver accents enhanced the glory of her crown.

“We accept your gracious apology,” Her Majesty said. “You are most kind to offer it, and please extend our thanks to your premier for making it. Of course, we
know
nothing like this will ever occur again.”

“No, Your Majesty,” Vishenko said quickly.

“The consequences would be ...” she began.

“Unfortunate,” the chancellor finished.

There was an uncomfortable silence. Ambassador Vishenko knew he was being threatened, and it was obvious he didn’t like it. Under the circumstances, though, there was little he could do about it. Micah tried and failed to suppress a smile.

“I wonder,” Ambassador Vishenko said, changing the subject, “if Wolf Dasher is available. My government would like to thank him personally for his part in putting a stop to General Tupelov’s machinations and to apologize to him for the manner in which he was made to suffer.”

“I’m afraid Shadow Six is still in Alfar,” Micah pronounced. “Due to the nature of his injuries, he’s still not fit to travel.”

“Really?” Quincy said. “The salves and spells I prescribed for him should have been sufficient for him to have made a full recovery by now.”

***

Wolf lay in bed and watched May Honeyflower pour a glass of
freschina
. She sipped from the cup and then handed it to him. He took a long pull and felt refreshed by its clean, light flavor. She stood over him.

“How are you feeling,” she asked.

“I could be better,” he answered.

“How?”

He smiled roguishly at her, and then sat up, grabbed her arm, and pulled her into bed. She gasped and giggled as his arms enveloped her. Then he kissed her deeply. She responded passionately. After a moment, he withdrew.

“My god, Honeyflower,” he said. “You are amazing.”

“Call me May,” she said.

“May I?” he quipped.

“Oh, yes,” she said. “You may.”

She kissed him again, and this time he didn’t stop. Sara was avenged, Silverleaf was stopped, and Ravager was dead. None of that mattered to him anymore, though. As long as he was wrapped up in May Honeyflower, the whole world melted away into pleasure.

Wolf thought he might never go home.

The end of
State of Grace
.

Wolf Dasher will return in
Red Dragon Five
.

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State of Grace
, please
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