Ambition (6 page)

“In any case, Your Excellency should remain patient while watching your enemies squirm, of course.”

“Certainly. I’ll take my own good time.”

Reinhard, of course, wasn’t just passively waiting. Employing a host of clever tactics, he had incited the highborn nobles to blind wrath while they still hadn’t a prayer of victory. Their hysterical explosions of outrage were exactly what Reinhard wanted. Their own plots against him he swatted aside with the purehearted passion of a young boy chasing beautiful butterflies.

“There’s really no need to drive the nobles into a corner,” Reinhard said, as his supple fingertips toyed with his friend’s red hair. “It’s enough just to make them think they’re going to be cornered.”

In point of fact, the wealth and military power of the nobility would have far outstripped that of Reinhard alone had they stood united against him. Nevertheless, the responses of those harried nobles—
At this rate, we’ll be destroyed! We’ve got to fight back somehow!
—were lacking in reason and seemed to Reinhard simply absurd.

Reinhard’s mind was no longer that of a boy, but something of boyhood yet remained in his heart. Those who opposed him he hated with earnest, yet whenever he noticed some unique quality in the words or deeds of his opponents—even if it were a quality that could hardly be called attractive—it would arouse in him a certain curiosity. At present, however, he could see no such qualities among the aristocrats, and in that, he felt just slightly disappointed.

Count Franz von Mariendorf, a mild-mannered and conscientious man, enjoyed the confidence of not only the aristocrats but his own people as well.

Undecided as to how best to deal with present circumstances, he was feeling every day like holding his head in his hands. He wanted to maintain neutrality if at all possible, but was that going to be an option?

It was on one such day that his eldest daughter Hilda made a brief return home from university on Odin.

Hilda—the count’s daughter Hildegard von Mariendorf—had only just turned twenty.

Her darkly shaded blond hair was cut short for ease of movement. There was a hard sort of beauty to her features, yet she didn’t give a cold or harsh impression, a fact likely due to the lively sparkle in her blue-green eyes. Those eyes were practically bursting with life and vibrant intellect, giving more the impression of an adventurous young boy.

An old man with shiny pink cheeks met her in the mansion’s hall and bent his corpulent body forward in a bow.

“Milady, it’s so good to see that you’re well.”

“You’re looking well yourself, Hans. Where’s father?”

“He’s in the sunroom. Shall I go and tell him you’re here?”

“No need—I’ll go myself. Oh, can you bring coffee, please?”

Aside from a pink scarf tied around her collar, the count’s daughter was attired no differently from a man, and she walked through the hallway with a rhythmic step.

A pair of sofas had been placed by the wide sunroom’s window, and there in the sunlight, Count von Mariendorf sat with his back hunched forward, lost in thought. Looking up at the sound of his daughter’s voice, he forced a smile and beckoned her near.

“What were you thinking of just now, Father?”

“Oh, ah, nothing of any great import.”

“That’s reassuring—to say the fate of the Galactic Empire and the future of House Mariendorf are of no great import.”

Count Franz von Mariendorf gave a great involuntary shudder.

His face went rigid, and he looked toward his daughter. With an expression that was impish—but not
merely
impish—Hilda returned her father’s gaze.

Hans the butler came round with a coffee set on a silver tray. A long silence stretched out until he withdrew; it was the daughter who broke it.

“So then, have you decided what you’re going to do, Father?”

“I am hoping to remain neutral. However, should I be left with no choice but to take one side or the other, I will support von Braunschweig. As a nobleman of the empire, that is my—”

“Father!”

With a sharp cry and a harsh look, the daughter had cut off her father’s words.

Hilda’s father stared in surprise at his daughter. Her blue-green eyes shone intensely. They harbored a strange beauty, like flames that danced within jewels.

“There is a fact from which most of the aristocracy is averting its eyes. It is that as surely as every human born will someday die, death comes for nations as well. There hasn’t been a single nation to escape ultimate destruction since civilization first emerged on an itty-bitty planet called Earth. How can the Galactic Empire—the Goldenbaum Dynasty—alone be an exception to that?”

“Hilda! Stop it, Hilda!”

“The Goldenbaum Dynasty survived nearly five hundred years,” said the count’s bold daughter. “They ruled the entire human race for more than two hundred of those years, doing whatever they pleased with their wealth and power. They killed people, they stole the daughters of other houses, they created laws for their own convenience …”

She was all but pounding the table in her fervor.

“They’ve done however they pleased for so long. If the curtain were to finally fall, who could you blame? Then again, it’s only natural to be grateful for five hundred years of continued prosperity. But even the laws of nature say that it can’t go on forever.”

It was a lambasting worthy of a revolutionary, and her mild-mannered father was at first left speechless. At last, however, he gathered up spirit enough for a counterattack.

“Even so, Hilda, that doesn’t mean there’s any reason to throw in with Marquis von Lohengramm.”

“Oh, but there is a reason.”

“What kind of reason?” His voice was filled with doubt when he asked that question, and at the same time contained a hint of pleading.

“There are four reasons. Will you hear me out?”

Her father nodded. His daughter’s explanation was as follows:

First: Marquis von Lohengramm had sided with the new emperor, and by order of that emperor, had just cause to subdue those who opposed him. Compared with that, the Braunschweig-Littenheim camp was preparing to wage nothing more than a private war of naked ambition.

Second: The military power of Duke von Braunschweig and the others was great, and sooner or later most of the aristocrats would consolidate behind it. Therefore, even if House Mariendorf participated, it would not be viewed as a particularly important ally and would receive no special treatment. The Lohengramm camp, on the other hand, was the weaker force, and if House Mariendorf aligned with it, its forces would not only be strengthened, there would also be a political impact—which meant it was certain that House Mariendorf would receive a warm welcome.

Third: Duke von Braunschweig and Marquis von Littenheim were only joining forces for the time being; they lacked the will to cooperate over the long term. Most importantly, the chain of command in their military forces was not unified, and that could be fatal. On the other hand, the Lohengramm camp was operating with both purpose and a unified command structure. Regardless of what might happen en route to the finale, it was self-evident who would come out on top in the end.

Fourth: Neither Reinhard von Lohengramm nor any of his chief subordinates were of highborn lineage, and he was thus very popular among the common class. It was impossible to fight a war with only officers, and the ordinary soldiers of both camps were all commoners. Among the rank-and-file soldiers of the Duke von Braunschweig camp, riots and mutinies had broken out as a result of accumulated hostility toward officers of high birth. There was even the danger of collapse from within …

“What do you think, Father?”

After Hilda had thus concluded, Count von Mariendorf remained silent, simply wiping his brow. He couldn’t argue with his daughter’s logic.

“I believe House Mariendorf should align with the winner—that is to say, with Marquis von Lohengramm. As proof of our loyalty, we should also offer him land and a hostage.”

“Land is not a problem—by all means, give him some. But I won’t furnish hostages. That’s out of the—”

“Not even if the hostage wishes it?”

“But who would ever—”

In midsentence, a fearful look appeared on Count von Mariendorf’s face. “No, not you …”

“Yes. I’ll go.”

“Hilda!” her father gasped, but she just kept calmly adding sugar and cream to her coffee. She was confident her body was not predisposed toward weight gain.

“I’m grateful to you, Father. You brought me into the world on the eve of some very interesting times.”

Count von Mariendorf looked on in stunned silence.

“I can’t propel history by myself, but I can observe with my own eyes how history moves and how the people caught up in it live and die.”

After drinking her coffee, Hilda stood and hugged her father’s head, rubbing her cheek against his brown, lusterless hair.

“Don’t worry about me, Father. Come what may, I’m going to protect House Mariendorf. No matter what I have to do.”

“Then I leave it in your hands.” Calm was starting to return to the elder von Mariendorf’s voice. “Whatever the end result, I’ll have no regrets. But you need not sacrifice yourself for the sake of House Mariendorf. Instead, think on how you can use House Mariendorf as a tool, to open up a path for your own survival. Will you do that?”

“Father …”

“Take good care of yourself.”

She tilted her head and kissed her father’s brow. Then, like a butterfly, she turned and left the sunroom.

After a six-day journey, Hilda arrived on Odin. Or, from her perspective, she returned. She had been living on Odin for a full four years now.

Hilda took a robocar from the spaceport to the Lohengramm admiralität. Perhaps because she was in such elevated spirits, she felt no fatigue whatsoever. In any case, once this was over she could rest as much as she pleased.

“Do you have an appointment, fraülein?” asked the boyish-looking young officer at the window. He wore a name tag that read
Lieutenant von Rücke
.

“I’m afraid I don’t. But this concerns the lives and the hopes of a great many people. I’m certain that His Excellency the marshal will consent to see me, so could I please ask you to announce me?”

At the sight of the beautiful young woman’s earnest expression—about 30 percent of which was an act—Lieutenant von Rücke seemed overcome with chivalrous spirit. He had her wait briefly in the lobby, but after making several calls, he at last beamed at her, as though he were the one whose request had been granted.

“He says that he’ll see you. Please take elevator 4 up to the tenth floor.”

“Thank you very much. I’m sorry to have put you to such trouble,” Hilda said with complete sincerity, and boarded an elevator that doubled as a weapons detection system.

That day, Reinhard was awaiting the arrival of a particular report, but it didn’t seem to be forthcoming, and he took interest at the news that a lovely young woman was here to see him. For Reinhard, of course, beautiful women were not to be prized too highly. Even so, the sight of Hilda’s beauty—raw and natural, no noticeable makeup—left him just a little impressed at how unlike an aristocrat’s daughter she appeared.

“It’s a pity Kircheis isn’t with us today,” Reinhard said once they were seated in the reception room. “Did you know he has a bit of a history with the von Mariendorfs?”

“Yes, of course. He saved my father’s life during the Kastropf Rebellion last year. I’ve never met him in person, though.”

After a moment’s silence, Reinhard said, “So then, you say you have business with me today?”

Coffee was brought in by a young boy who looked like a cadet from a military preparatory school. Reinhard was picking up the jar of cream when Hilda spoke.

“On the occasion of the coming civil war, House Mariendorf will side with you, Marquis von Lohengramm.”

For a split second, Reinhard’s hand froze, but then he completed the operation in a series of offhanded motions.

“Civil war, you say?”

“The one against Duke von Braunschweig, which could break out tomorrow for all we know.”

“You’re a bold one, aren’t you? Supposing such a thing were to happen, my victory would hardly be assured. Yet even so, you say you’d support me?”

Hilda steadied her breathing and related to the young imperial marshal the points she had explained to her father. Reinhard’s ice-blue eyes shone.

“You have remarkable insight,” he said. “Very well. If that’s how things stand, I could use an ally. Your consideration will certainly be rewarded. I promise to take good care of House Mariendorf—naturally—as well as any other houses with whom you might put in a word for me.”

“Your generous words will make it easier to persuade our acquaintances and relations—as well as ourselves, milord.”

“What’s that? You’ve only just become my ally. I couldn’t possibly treat you with discourtesy. Repaying your efforts and courage is only the natural thing to do. If there’s any way I can be of assistance to you, please don’t hesitate to ask.”

“In that case, then, if I may avail myself of your kind words, I do have one request.”

“Certainly,” said Reinhard. “Go ahead.”

“In recognition of our loyalty … I would like an official document of guaranty, recognizing House Mariendorf and guaranteeing its lands and titles.”

“Oh? An official document?”

A certain wariness had crept into Reinhard’s tone. He looked at Hilda with a gaze slightly different from the one he had regarded her with up until now. Count von Mariendorf’s daughter gazed fearlessly back at the young lord.

Reinhard thought it over for a moment, but it didn’t take him long to reach a decision.

“Very well. I’ll put it in writing and get it to you by the end of the day.”

“You have my utmost gratitude.” Respectfully, Hilda bowed her head. “House Mariendorf swears to Your Excellency our absolute loyalty and shall endeavor to be of service to you in matters great and small.”

“I’ll be counting on you, then. And Fraülein von Mariendorf?”

“Yes?”

“Will such documents of guaranty be necessary for any other houses you may persuade to join us?”