Deathstalker Coda (34 page)
Authors: Simon R. Green
In the end, it was as simple as that. The two transmutation engines made a fine display as the fleet blasted them apart, and it didn’t take long to search out the orbiting mines and other nasty surprises that Finn had left behind. Lewis made contact with Capital City, and was immediately welcomed home and invited down. Parades and celebrations in the city were promised, but Lewis politely declined. He needed to see what was left of his Standing. His Family home.
Lewis and Jesamine went down alone on the pinnace again. Brett, seriously drunk but still in full use of his self-preservation instincts, declined. Ostensibly because there was nothing worth stealing on Virimonde, but actually because he didn’t want to risk Rose’s killing someone important again. He didn’t think his nerves could stand that. And Silence didn’t go along because he had once been part of the invasion force that Lionstone sent hundreds of years ago, to pound the people back into barbarism. They’d done such a good job that the planet was still recovering, even now. Millions of people had been killed. And Silence had been a part of it.
“You did get around, didn’t you?” said Jesamine, exasperated. “Is there anything else we ought to know, any other awful things you did when you served under the Iron Bitch?”
“Lots,” said Silence. “But I won’t tell you. It was a long time ago. We were all different people then.”
“Why did you serve Lionstone for so long?” said Lewis. He sounded like he honestly wanted to know, so Silence told him.
“She was my Empress. Loyalty was all I knew, then.”
Lewis and Jesamine rode the pinnace down to Virimonde. It was a smooth enough trip. Lewis knew the way home. Jesamine studied him worriedly. He was being very quiet. She wanted to help, but couldn’t see how. So much had happened to Lewis since he’d last been here, and he’d never been the easiest person to talk to when it came to personal things. He’d lost pretty much everything he ever cared for, except her. Lost his Family and his home, his Clan and his Standing. For a long time now he’d been running on anger and revenge and duty, and Jesamine had to wonder what would happen to Lewis when he no longer had those things to hold him together.
The comm system suddenly came alive, breaking an uncomfortable silence. “This is Virimonde comm center. Welcome home, Sir Deathstalker. We always knew you’d come for us. Quite an impressive fleet you’ve picked up. Trust a Deathstalker to come home in style. I have been asked . . . to warn you, about the current condition of your Standing . . .”
“Is it true?” Lewis said steadily. “Are they all dead?”
“I’m afraid so, Sir Deathstalker.” The voice was quiet and respectful, but there was no give in it. “We did think a few minor cousins might have escaped, but now all the bodies have been identified, we’re sure no one was missing on the day. Everyone with the Clan name was killed. The Emperor’s creatures were very thorough. You are now the last of the direct line.”
“No,” said Lewis. “There is another. Owen has returned.”
“Then the rumors are true? He’s really back?”
“Yes. He’s gone to face the Terror.”
“We are living in a time of legends reborn. A deputation will meet you, Sir Deathstalker, on the grounds on the Standing.”
“I don’t think I want to meet anyone, just yet,” said Lewis.
“You’ll want to hear this. Clan Deathstalker continues. It is not gone. Virimonde comm center out.”
“Well,” Jesamine said lightly, as the comm unit fell silent. “That was . . . enigmatic. What do you suppose they meant?”
“I don’t know,” said Lewis. “I don’t care. I just want to go home.”
He landed the pinnace on his Family landing pad, decorated with the Family crest, in the grounds of the ancient castle that had been home to Clan Deathstalker for so many generations. There wasn’t a lot left of the old strong-hold now. Jesamine followed Lewis nervously as he descended from the pinnace, strode across the landing pads, and then just stood looking at the smoke- and fire-blackened remains before him. All of the east wing had been blown away, leaving the interior rooms and corridors exposed to wind and rain. The courtyard walls were gone, and the front and west wing walls were pockmarked with jagged holes from disrupter fire. Even the roof had been punctured through repeatedly by energy weapons and explosions. Finn’s people had put a lot of effort into destroying the castle, but still most of it stood, defiant as ever.
Jesamine took Lewis’s arm, trying to comfort him with her presence. “I never realized the place was so big, Lewis. It’s still . . . very impressive.”
“I always believed I’d come back, someday,” said Lewis. “That when my time as a Paragon was done, I’d come home again, to lead my Family. We’d all sit around the open fire in the great hall, with the dogs lying around, and I’d tell them tales of the greatest city on the greatest world in the Empire. And now all that is gone, all that I really care about . . . is that my mother and my father are dead. I never got a chance to tell them all the things I’d done. The things I did, because I wanted them to be proud of me.”
“They knew,” said Jesamine. “And of course they were proud of you. They were your parents.”
“They’re gone, and I’m alone. I want my mum. I want my dad.”
Jesamine took him in her arms, but he didn’t cry.
They both looked round sharply at the sound of approaching ships in the sky. Lewis pushed Jesamine away, and his hands went to his weapons. Ships filled the sky, coming in from every direction. So many they blocked out the sun. Transport ships, cargo ships, small family ships. They landed one after another, filling and overflowing the landing pads and settling down where they could in the surrounding countryside. Hundreds of men and women disembarked and headed straight for what was left of the Deathstalker Standing. They saw Lewis and called out his name joyously, hooting and waving, and almost reluctantly he took his hand away from his gun. The crowds surged forward, chanting his name like a war cry. They gathered before him, milling uncertainly, and then one man at the front of the crowd sank down on one knee, and everyone followed his example, until the whole crowd was kneeling before Lewis, their faces radiant.
The first man to kneel had a familiar face. Lewis remembered Michel du Bois, once the member of Parliament for Virimonde, now an exile and outlaw like Lewis. Once, they had been rivals for Virimonde’s love, even enemies, but du Bois had changed much since Lewis last saw him. He looked up at Lewis with wild eyes, fanatical and perhaps a little mad. He bowed jerkily to Lewis, ignoring Jesamine completely.
“Welcome home, Sir Deathstalker. All the families of Virimonde have sent representatives here, to do you honor. Where you lead, we will follow. The whole planet has taken an oath of vengeance against the Durandal and his people, sworn upon your name and upon our blood. We are yours, to lead into battle. We are all Deathstalkers now.”
“Talk about intense,” Jesamine muttered. “Is he on something?”
“Hush,” said Lewis. He nodded to du Bois. “Your manner has changed since our last meeting,” he said carefully.
“The world has changed,” said du Bois, his eyes unblinking. “My loyalty has always been to Virimonde. You know that. Finn has proven himself unworthy, and an enemy. A coward, and an animal. Take us with you to Logres, Sir Deathstalker, and we will drag him from his throne and hang him from the walls of the palace.” He paused a moment, looking past Lewis at the ruined castle. “I had an aunt who was a Deathstalker. From a minor branch, but she bore the name proudly. She died here, with the rest of the Clan. She was always good to me. We have all lost loved ones here.”
“I never knew we were related,” said Lewis. “You never said.”
“I wanted to make it on my own, by my own worth, not through Family connections,” said du Bois. For a moment he looked and sounded almost normal, but the moment passed. “We have all sworn to be Deathstalkers; every man and woman on this planet, under your leadership.”
And the huge crowd responded with a low murmur of agreement, an almost animal growl of wrath and determination.
“Woe to all who raise the rage of Virimonde,” murmured Lewis. “Very well, Michel. Get these people out of here, and get them organized. I want everyone that’s coming offplanet in two hours, in everything you’ve got that flies. The fleet is waiting for you, and they’ll find room for anyone who wants to come and fight but doesn’t have a ship. How many can we count on?”
“Every man and woman has sworn to follow you,” du Bois said simply.
“Hold everything,” said Jesamine. “Everyone? The whole adult population?”
“What was done here touched everyone,” said du Bois. “We were all raised as warriors, in Owen’s name, to do him honor. Now he has returned, how can we be found wanting?”
He rose to his feet, turned and addressed the waiting crowd, giving them Lewis’s instructions, and they roared their approval. Du Bois continued talking, stirring them to action with grand rhetoric. Lewis and Jesamine left him to it, and walked slowly through the courtyard of what had once been a mighty castle.
“Why haven’t they even tried to repair it?” said Jesamine. “The basic structure seems sound enough. They could have at least made a start.”
“It wasn’t their place to do anything,” said Lewis. “They were waiting, to see what I would decide. And besides; it’s evidence. This is a war crime. A sight to inspire people to revolt. I’m going inside, to see how bad the damage is. You don’t need to come, Jes.”
“Of course I do, sweetie. Even Deathstalkers need someone to lean on, sometimes.”
The first bad thing they encountered was a monstrous pile of junk, raised up before the smashed-in front doors. Finn’s people had piled up in the courtyard all the Deathstalker belongings that weren’t worth looting or trashing. They’d clearly tried to set the pile on fire, but it hadn’t taken. Lewis approached the pile slowly, almost cautiously. He recognized a few items, here and there, but made no attempt to touch or rescue anything. His ugly face grew increasingly set and harsh. In the end, he turned his back on it, like turning his back on a grave, and headed for the open main doors. Jesamine went with him, not sure he even knew she was there anymore.
Inside the castle, the damage was worse, if anything. Explosives had clearly been set in vulnerable spots to try to bring the place down, but the thick solid stone walls had defeated them. The walls still stood, though much holed and scarred, and there was rubble everywhere. Floors and ceilings were slumped and ruptured, but still held together. Deathstalker Standings had always been designed and built to take punishment. Deathstalkers led dangerous lives, and they had long memories. Jesamine followed Lewis as he wandered through rooms and corridors, stepping around or over the general destruction. Furniture had been smashed and burned, bookcases overturned, and centuries-old tapestries and portraits torn down and trashed. Everything of obvious value was gone, taken, and everywhere there were signs and stains where Finn’s creatures had relieved themselves, like dogs marking their territory.
“Finn knew this would hurt me,” Lewis said, almost casually. “Almost as much as losing my mum and dad, and my Family. Back when we were friends and the world still made sense, he and I often spent long weekends here. He was my guest, and I showed him everything. He had to know how much this place, its history, meant to me. I told him. I told him everything, and why not? He was my friend. What will Owen say, when he sees this? This was my Family’s duty, to keep the Standing in trust, for him, when he returned. This place was always more his than ours. And we failed him.”
“He’ll understand,” said Jesamine. “He knew what it felt like, to be betrayed.”
They climbed a crumbling, broken stairway to the next floor. There was a wide gap in the middle, several feet across. Lewis and Jesamine jumped across it easily, without thinking or effort, and only afterwards realized what they’d done, and looked back at the gap. Jesamine leaned over to look down into the long drop, and then gripped Lewis fiercely by the arm.
“Wow,” she said breathlessly. “I don’t believe we just did that!”
“Jes, you’re cutting off the circulation in my arm.”
“Look at that drop! Look at that gap! And we jumped it like it was nothing . . . Back before the Maze, I couldn’t have made a jump like that if you’d goosed me with a cattle prod.”
“Jes, my arm . . .”
“Oh, sorry.”
“We’re changing,” said Lewis, rubbing at his arm. “All the time, we’re becoming something else, something better, in little ways we don’t always notice.”
And then suddenly he and Jesamine sprinted forward, charging up the remaining stairs at more than human speed. They reached the landing and looked back, not even breathing hard, and watched the steps where they’d just been standing slowly tear themselves away from the wall and plummet to the floor far below. They hit hard, breaking apart under the impact, and the sound drifted up, along with a cloud of dust. Lewis and Jesamine looked at each other.
“We
knew
that was going to happen,” Jesamine said slowly. “We . . . sensed it. Now that is seriously spooky.”
knew
that was going to happen,” Jesamine said slowly. “We . . . sensed it. Now that is seriously spooky.”
“I’d be hard-pressed to name anything in our lives that hasn’t been, for some time now,” said Lewis. “No doubt eventually we’ll get used to it.”
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