Deathstalker Return (67 page)

“The House had to go,” Finn said reasonably. “I can’t afford to have enemies at my back, and the Paragons needed a little raw meat to keep them quiet. The people shall have me, and only me. I am King, and I will not suffer any competition. You’d better come with me, Anne. You’ll be safe with me.”

“And do what?” said Anne. “What is there left for me to do now?”

“I told you,” said Finn. “You’re going to be Queen. I always keep my word, when it suits me.”

“The Queen has no power,” said Anne. “No influence . . . no work. I’ll be just a pretty ornament on your arm. I’ll be everything I always despised in other women. And all thanks to you, Finn.”

“You’re welcome,” said Finn, looking at the killing on the monitors again.

 

 

After she’d watched the House burn, Anne went home. Finn did offer to go with her, but he was clearly very busy, so she politely declined and went home alone. The streets seemed unusually empty of people, but there were security guards everywhere. None of them sought to interfere with her. Everyone knew she belonged to Finn Durandal. She let herself into her house, and wandered down the hall into the living room. She looked at it for a long while. It seemed somehow strange and unfamiliar, as though she’d gone into the wrong house by mistake. As though she’d lived in it for so long she’d stopped seeing it. The room was very neat, very ordered, everything in its place. Just like her life used to be. She’d seen that as a trap, once, and longed desperately to be free of it.

Only now did she realize she was looking at a room without a trace of personality.

Well, she was someone now. She was going to be Queen. By allying herself with Finn, she’d got everything she ever thought she wanted: a new life, a new body, even the beginnings of love with Jamie . . . and it had all come to nothing. She should have known better. Happy endings weren’t for people like her. She sighed, and sat down in the nearest chair. It wasn’t her favorite chair, and once that would have mattered to her, but not now. Her house was her old life, and she didn’t belong there anymore.

There were drinks and even drugs about the place, Finn had always seen she got whatever she wanted, but she didn’t want any of them now. She wondered if she ever had, really. She’d just been so desperate not to be the old, boring, safe Anne . . . She was pretty sure now Finn only let her have the drink and drugs because he thought it would make her easier to control. He always felt easier when he had some form of control over people.

He said he wanted her to be his Queen. Anne knew what that meant. She would stand beside him on state occasions, in her new lovely body, smiling endlessly; for the guests, for the people, for the cameras. And her marvelous brain would slowly atrophy, unused and unwanted. She would smile and smile, and no one would hear her screaming inside. Once, she had had real power, and real friends, but she had thrown them all away. She had betrayed everyone and everything she once believed in, and all for Finn, who cared for no one.

Lewis and Jesamine: outlawed and on the run. Douglas: awaiting trial and execution. And her poor Jamie: shot down in the street like a dog.

 

 

When Finn got back to his apartment, late in the evening, there was a message waiting for him, from one of his deep-cover spies. The first part of the message was short and to the point, confirming what he’d already suspected. Shub had betrayed him on Haden, allying instead with the newly arrived Deathstalker. The second part of the message was rather more startling. It seemed Lewis had successfully entered the Madness Maze, and emerged intact, bringing with him the long-lost and very much alive Owen Deathstalker. And as if that wasn’t bad enough, the twelve monstrous survivors that Finn had meant to use as weapons had all been sent back into the Maze by Owen, to be cured and made human again.

Finn swore harshly. Somedays things wouldn’t go right if you bribed them.

And he’d been in such a good mood too, when he came in. Things had been going so well . . . Finn strode restlessly back and forth, thinking hard. He couldn’t say he was surprised that Shub had chosen to side with Lewis. He’d always known that was a danger. Like almost everyone else, the AIs could get very sentimental when it came to that damnable Deathstalker name. Allowing Shub direct access to the Maze had always been a calculated risk, which was why he’d made certain advance arrangements.

Finn had always intended that Lewis and his people should get to Haden eventually, because it seemed entirely probable that only a Deathstalker would be able to safely unlock the secrets of the Madness Maze. Finn wanted those secrets. Because with those secrets under his control, Finn wouldn’t need allies anymore. He wouldn’t need anyone. He couldn’t make Lewis’s trip look too easy, of course, or someone would have got suspicious, but Finn always knew where Lewis was, and where he was going next.

But he’d never expected Owen to actually return. That was the stuff of legend, and Finn had always been far too sensible to believe in things like that. But the message was quite explicit. Owen Deathstalker was back, and apparently just as powerful as the stories always said he was. And Captain John Silence was there too. Another damned legend who didn’t have the decency to stay dead. Finn stopped pacing up and down, and nodded his head decisively. He’d never been the panicking sort, and he wasn’t about to start now. Immediate problems require immediate solutions. So, strike now, with all the force at his command, while Owen was still newly returned and hopefully just a little disoriented. He’d been killed once, so presumably he could die again. Even if Finn had to scorch the whole planet lifeless from orbit. Finn snorted. Let the blessed Owen come back from that . . .

He contacted fleet HQ and ordered every starcruiser in the Imperial fleet to converge on Haden. Most were already in the area, hiding out in hyperspace. Finn believed in thinking ahead. Lewis and the Maze had always been a danger that might have to be stepped on hard. The admiral in charge of the fleet was one of Finn’s creatures, and a fanatic to the bone. She would obey any order Finn gave. Killing someone who claimed to be the blessed Owen Deathstalker wouldn’t slow her down at all.

Finn threw himself into his most comfortable chair and smiled suddenly. Maybe it wasn’t such a bad day after all, when you got to order the death of two Deathstalkers at once.

He laughed out loud. And what better way to mark the moment, than to officially change his title from King . . . to Emperor. Emperor Finn—it had a certain ring to it. He wasn’t exactly sure he felt like an Emperor yet, but Douglas’s trial was tomorrow . . . Yes, sentencing King Douglas to death would definitely help him to feel the part more. He wouldn’t bother with a grand public execution after all. Still too much chance of public sentiment turning against it, and ruining the moment for him.

So, a quick trial, a guilty verdict, and then Finn would chop off Douglas’s head, right there in the court in front of everyone. Make a nice surprise ending to the occasion. Finn thought he should do it himself. For old times’ sake.

 

 

The trial of King Douglas was big news, and was to be covered live on every news channel. It was to take place at the court, before an invited audience only, and presided over by King Finn, who would of course serve as prosecutor and judge. The trial should really have been held at the House of Parliament, but unfortunately it seemed the treacherous MPs had burnt it down in their attempts to evade justice. That was all the advance news there was, but since there was still lots of time left to fill before the trial started, the news channels filled the air with comment and opinion. Most of it to do with whether Douglas was guilty or extremely guilty. Nina Malapert kept one eye on the small viewscreen in her rented room, while she and Stuart Lennox prepared for their unexpected part in the trial of King Douglas.

Nina and Stuart were still hiding out in the Rookery, though their funds only stretched to cover a single room now. Nina let Stuart sleep in the single narrow bed while she slept on the floor, because he still looked so frail a good gust of wind might blow him away. But there was no doubt he was looking better. There was color in his cheeks and fire in his eyes as he sat on the edge of the bed, polishing his sword blade. Nina finished tucking a last few useful items into her backpack, and smiled brightly at Stuart.

“All ready, sweetie? Super! I am so looking forward to this. It’s a good day for someone else to die.”

Stuart fixed her with a mildly sardonic gaze. “Am I to take it that you’re finally ready to share your great plan with me? Considering that the trial is due to start in just under six hours, it had better be a bloody good plan.”

“Keep it simple and nothing can go wrong,” said Nina.

“King Douglas will be surrounded by every defense Finn has,” Stuart said heavily. “There will be guards inside and outside the court, all of them with energy weapons. There will be tanglewebs, sleepgas and force shields ready to use; and quite possibly landmines if you stray off the official path. How are we even going to get to Douglas, let alone free him?”

Nina smiled dazzlingly. “I thought we’d steal a ship, fly over the palace, and then smash it through the stained-glass windows in the ceiling of the court.”

“Hundreds of people would be killed and injured!”

“No one we care about will be there.”

“We could be killed or injured!”

“Relax; I’m a demon pilot.”

Stuart smiled slowly. “You’re crazy. I like that in a partner. Let’s go steal a ship.”

 

 

The trial took place in the Imperial Court, right on time. King Finn sat on the great throne on its raised dais, while Douglas stood in a specially constructed dock, weighed down with chains. He kept his back straight and his head high, and refused to even look at Finn. Finn found that amusing. Anne sat on a second throne, beside Finn, and didn’t look at either of them. The same guests were present as had attended Finn’s Coronation, only this time there were even more armed guards, just in case. The Church Militant and Pure Humanity fanatics had booed lustily as Douglas was brought in, but he ignored them all with regal disdain. Some of them threw things at Douglas. No one tried to stop them. Douglas proceeded into the waiting dock with kingly dignity, and a few were actually shamed into silence by his composure. Douglas looked out over the court that had once been his, and felt only sorrow at how far it had fallen.

Finn waited till all the news cameras were in position, and all the security measures confirmed, and then he signaled for silence. The muttering audience immediately shut up. Finn looked at Douglas in the dock, and smiled contentedly. “Well, here we are again, old friend. Quite different from the last time we were here together, at your Coronation.”

“It was a Golden Age, then,” said Douglas. “And look what you’ve done to it. And all because I wouldn’t make you my Champion. You always were a petty little shit, Finn.”

There was a stunned silence in the court. No one talked like that to King Finn. Everyone looked at him to see what he would do. Finn considered for a while, and then nodded to the half dozen guards surrounding the dock.

“Take Douglas out onto the floor of this court. Hold him before my throne. And beat some manners into him.”

The six guards dragged Douglas out of the dock and onto the floor of the court. Douglas fought and struggled all the way and the guards beat him unmercifully for it. The sound of the blows carried clearly in the quiet hall. Some of the audience looked away, rather than watch Douglas’s blood splash across the floor of the court. Finn watched it all with a calm, benign smile. Anne had her eyes shut tight. And the hovering remote cameras broadcast it all live. Including the moment when one of the guards got too confident and too close, and Douglas suddenly whipped a length of his chains around the guard’s throat, and broke the man’s neck with a sudden twist. The other guards hesitated for just a moment, shocked by a death that wasn’t in the script, and that was all the advantage Douglas needed. He struck out at the guards with all the training and experience of his many years as a Paragon, lashing out with hands and feet and lengths of steel chain; and surprisingly quickly all the guards lay stretched out on the floor before Finn, unmoving. Douglas stood over them, battered and bloodied and entirely unbowed, glaring at the man sitting on what had once been his throne.

Finn applauded languidly, the soft hand claps filling the silence of the shocked Court. “Well done, Douglas. You always did know how to put on a good show. Guards, draw your guns.” Hundreds of energy weapons were immediately trained on the harshly breathing Douglas. “Do get back in the dock where you belong, Douglas, there’s a good fellow,” said Finn. “Or we’ll start the trial with your execution.”

Douglas limped back into the dock, wearing his dignity like armor. Finn gestured, and the six dead and unconscious guards were dragged away. Six new guards surrounded the dock, guns drawn and at the ready. Douglas ignored them with magnificent disdain.

“The charges,” said Finn, almost casually, “are treason, sedition, murder, and royal fratricide. How do you answer, Douglas?”

“Mostly guilty, and entirely proud of it,” said Douglas. “I have always done my duty. Do we really need to go on with this, Finn? This whole trial is a farce. It’s unworthy of both of us. You need me dead so you can feel safe on your stolen throne. Just do it, and then we can both get some peace.”

“Oh, hell,” Finn said easily. “Why not?” He rose up from his throne, and stepped down from the dais, drawing his sword. “Kneel and bow your head to me, Douglas, one last time.”

And that was when Nina Malapert and Stuart Lennox came crashing through the stained-glass ceiling in their borrowed ship, the
Hazzard.
Everyone in the court cried out in shock and alarm as razor-sharp shards of stained glass fell like hail, followed by pieces of falling masonry. The audience rose up and stampeded for the exits as the
Hazzard,
a sleek racing craft with all its force shields glowing, slammed against the floor of the court and skidded on for several yards. Guards were thrown aside like broken dolls as the
Hazzard
plowed through them, heading for the throne and the dock. Finn drew his disrupter and fired at the ship, but the beam ricocheted harmlessly away from the force shields. People were running and screaming everywhere now, the whole court in chaos.