Schism of Blood and Stone (The Starfield Theory Book 1) (34 page)

“I need to speak with Filipov. By assigning more sections to Damien's operations we risk him gaining more influence besides the obvious increase in military hardware,” she said, watching the people again, going about their lives oblivious to the world shaking power discussions just above their heads.
Have any of my ancestors thought themselves gods? Sitting in their gilded thrones pulling the strings of those toiling below them?

“But you told Alos that Damien was no threat,” Richard said cautiously. “Was that the truth?”

Salena gritted her teeth.
Richard is catching on to this level of politics more quickly.

“No,” she said sighing. “However, I received a report from Filipov that he met with Conrad last night.”

Richard looked up, suddenly very attentive. “Conrad? What for?”

Salena shook her head. “I don't know. He was there for many hours then returned to the home of Anna, some concubine or something of his.”

“Anna,” Richard said looking up at the ceiling, thinking. “I remember her. The one that got away from him.”

Salena resisted rolling her eyes. “Probably more the other way around. Damien has always been afraid of getting too close to people; just the nature of someone who has known fifty years of war. She's not nobility no matter how close she thinks she works with them. Damien should have known better. In fact, we should feel fortunate. He never married into any family with any influence which deprives him of allies. Peter always said he was married to the Commonwealth.”

Before Richard could respond, the doors to the dining hall opened again and Filipov slipped inside. Salena smiled, half at his convenient entrance and half at his audacity to enter unannounced. He was wearing a simple civilian's outfit, mostly brown with a few snags and tears here and there. It was amazing he got into the palace at all looking at he did.

“My Archduchess,” the little twisted man said, bowing slightly like the servant had before. She wondered if he was behind the attempt to resurrect the custom or just mocking those who did it. “Those Azuren are mighty intimidating up close.”

“Yes, they are.”

“And you spoke with them?”

“I did, yes. We assured our guests that the Commonwealth was perfectly stable and would send the Dominion packing.”

Filipov hooked a hand under his chin. “That's a brave assertion.”

“It didn't work,” she said. “We will be another Azuren puppet, I fear.”

Filipov seemed to brighten suddenly, changing the subject abruptly. “I am sorry your day has not gone well, my Lady, but you should be happy to know your brother spent a comfortable night with his, whatever she is. He has not left, yet.”

“Cavorting around with a concubine on the eve of Peter's funeral? How just like Damien. Allow him to attend the funeral of my brother – it's the least we can do. After he returns here, we will accuse him of using the funeral to gain allies for a rebellion and have him arrested.”

“A bold move. You changed your mind from before,” Filipov pointed you.

“Before, I didn't have two Azuren threatening to turn the Commonwealth into a client state. I must show decisive resolve here.”

“Then it will be good that his daughter doesn't grow up an orphan.”

Salena narrowed her brow, wondering if she'd heard him correctly. “Explain,” she said.

“There is a daughter, probably about ten years old. They only met last night, but she is a gorgeous little thing. Very innocent, totally unaware of who her father is. Or what he is.”

“Fascinating,” Salena mused quietly. “My brother has a bastard child.”

She walked over by the window and looked out over the city, as if trying to find the girl from the palace. “With a peasant concubine no less,” she added. “It would appear Damien is not the cold, calculating brute I thought him. He makes mistakes, has weaknesses.”

“Everyone has weaknesses, my Lady. What shall we do about them?”

“They are too valuable to leave in the open. Have them brought in, Filipov,” Salena said, returning to address the crooked assassin. “Do not allow any harm to come to them. None. Is that clear?”

“Of course, Archduchess,” Filipov said with a wicked grin.

“I'm seriously, Dmitri. I'm very eager to meet my niece and her mother.”

Sir Aaron Mercer-Sten

Knight Scion of House Mercer

Scarlet Light,
Goteborg, Magdeborg Commonwealth

______________

Aaron sighed as the the buzzer went off yet again, another junior officer needing some direction. He called out for the officer to enter. The door opened slowly and a young female knight poked her head in. She glanced around quickly, saw Aaron at his desk and Reyna's naked form draped across his bed. She blushed a deep crimson. “Uh, sorry, sir. Captain Kristoffer is requesting a meeting.”

“Again?” Aaron sighed tossing his pen back on the desk.

“Yes, sir. He seems rather agitated,” she said clearing her throat.

Can't blame him. I would be, too, I suppose.

“Thank you,” he responded, dismissing the knight. He pushed away the paperwork and stood up, feeling his joints pop and tendons strain.
All this technology and yet I'm still drowning in literal paperwork. I'm thirty years old and I feel like Damien's age.

“He is quite a pain, huh?” Reyna said, with some mirth at Aaron's frustration.

“I'm tempted to put him out an airlock. Him and that entire spacer crew of his,” Aaron growled, rubbing his face.

“That's a bit of an overreaction.”

“I don't think so.”

Aaron made a half-grunt, half-bark and stood up.

“Need some more stress relief?” She asked suggestively. She rolled over on Aaron's bed and rested on her elbows. Her dark eyes twinkled alluringly.

Aaron glanced over at her. “Put some clothes on already.”

Reyna feigned a hurt expression and dressed quickly in what would have barely passed for acceptable attire for a Commonwealth officer. She was no knight, but she kept high level company which required a certain level of composure. Aaron often let that slide when they were alone.

Reyna walked over, her feet padding lightly on the carpet and hugged Aaron from behind his chair.

“We will catch him again, my sweet,” she whispered into his ear, guessing at the subject of his stress.

“And we will do it properly this time,” Aaron growled, gripping his pen. “For all the atrocities Pershing committed. No trials, no prisons. Just a simple battlefield execution.”

“Is it true, what happened on Haberton?” Reyna asked, slinking down onto Aaron's couch. “We never were sure.”

“When they showed up at Haberton, my family put every militia, man-at-arms and knight we could find in the field. Damien and I were tied down repelling another attack at Skagen; he couldn't send any more troops to help even when I asked to return myself.”

Aaron put the pen down and turned to face Reyna. “It wasn't his fault.” He said firmly. He believed it when he said it even if it took him some time to convince himself.

“I wish you could have seen Haberton. It's a B-class world, a bit warm maybe, but perfect for us. I grew up looking at the mountains in the distance from my bedroom. I always wanted to climb them, but my parents forbade it. Too dangerous.

“It's a wealthy system, too, though it's not all nice views. Some supernova remnant seeded the planets with heavy metals in their formation and over the course of a few million years the entire solar system migrated to its current location. There is, or was, a lot of mineral mining activity, whole forests of drilling and cutting rigs working away at the mines. A lot of my family's vassal houses own territory on the system's moons and asteroids. They all became very wealthy from their mining operations.”

Aaron draped a leg over his knee and leaned back. “Pershing put about sixty sections in the field with more in reserve. There were mercenaries pouring into the system, accepting my mother's offers to defend the world. Enough to live on for the rest of their lives if they survived. The battle was going well initially. My brother, Franklin, whom you've never met, and father led the battles across the world under my mother's direction. They smashed several of Pershing's elite sections including a section from House Torvald.”

“Torvald? That sounds like a Commonwealth name.”

“It was until they were reheralded as Dominion nobility when they lost their homeworld. Traitors.”

“A satisfying victory then,” Reyna offered.

Aaron nodded. “It should have been. The Commonwealth troops wanted blood and no traitor deserves anything less than death as my mother said. It was a trap though. Pershing used the Torvalds to lure my brother into the canyons on the southern continent. His engineers had planted gas canisters in the sides of the mountain. When my brother's unit was in place, they triggered the explosives and released the Vertoxx all through the canyon.”

Aaron tapped his pen on his desk, recalling his research. “Vertoxx is heavy, almost like it's not a gas. It doesn't rise, but it will follow the wind and slowly spread over a target area. It will fall and settle like snow. It settled on the destriers, vehicles and troopers and started melting away the armor. Once there was any sort of breach, it killed fairly quickly. My brother was up front so he had no chance to escape the cloud.”

Aaron hung his head and closed his eyes. “We lost almost half of our strength in that one fight. The mercenaries started to desert. Apparently their lives were worth more than all the money my family could offer them. My father's own mercenaries jumped his bodyguard and killed him. No one should die like that.”

“I didn't know about the gas,” Reyna said. “There were rumors-”

“They're true,” Aaron interrupted quickly. “All of them. Pershing is a coward and a murderer and now he's been set loose again. That bastard smuggled him across the border! Now they will come for Goteborg and they will do to House Evers what they did to me.”

Aaron pounded a fist against his armchair and raged. “Tell me, Reyna! Tell me why I shouldn't kill Kristoffer and his entire crew!”

Reyna leaned back and breathed deeply, waiting for Aaron's wrath to subside. The Sten family was highly regarded as wise and powerful, but they could also possess their demons. Some could control their fury like Damien and his flames or release it in short bursts like Aaron. Others were consumed by it. Like Slader.

Reyna was silent for a long time as she watched Aaron struggle. Finally she asked, “Do you know what they say about you? The other nobles under your command?”

Aaron worked his mouth, his tongue flicking in and out trying to form words.
What has that got to do with anything?

“They respect you Aaron. They will follow you into battle on Goteborg when the Dominion comes. They will follow you through Vertoxx if they are told to because they respect and honor your sense of duty. You are a good soldier, a good leader and if Damien says you are in command here then they will follow because they know you will do as Damien would. You won't kill either of the twins because you're not Slader. You will keep them safe here because Damien ordered you to do it.”

“And Slader's orders to-”

“Slader is a liar. You know this.”

Aaron stood up from his chair and moved to the window again. Outside, Goteborg hung in space, rotating slowly. On its surface, men and women prepared for war. Militias drilled in the streets. Civilians were stocking supplies of food and fuel. The knights were arming, armoring and practicing with their destriers. Tens of thousands of soldiers were ready to fight when the Dominion came. He would fight with them.

“I can't tell him,” Aaron said suddenly.

Reyna narrowed her brow in confusion.

“I thought about it, but I can't. I wanted to tell Kristoffer about his heritage, explain to him that he is the heir to his father's throne, an Archduke responsible for the lives of his subjects and then I wanted to make him watch them all die when Pershing slaughtered them with gas or with his knights. I wanted him to feel like the failure that he is. Then I wanted to shoot him right there in front of the Evers' palace. Traitors deserve nothing less than death. But I can't.”

“Why?”

“Because Damien said not to.”

Reyna smiled. “You have an excellent sense of duty. That is why you are so loved. Never stray from that. In fact, that is why I have heard Damien wishes to make you his heir.”

Aaron narrowed his brow. “His heir?”

“Yes. He told me so. Why do you think I'm here trying to help you make the right decision. Your own future is at stake here as well.”

“But I'm just a distant nephew not even from his branch of the family. Slader is more closely related-”

“Slader is a fool and Damien knows that. Maybe he's just angry his own status as heir to Magdeborg was forsaken by his father or maybe he knows that the heir to his estates on Hidelborg would be taken by Magnus Teton-Sten in the event of his death. He's already heir to the Danvers, Magdeborg Duchies and soon to be Aarhus as well. I think he has enough, don't you think?”

“So it's political.”

“I think it's personal. You're the closest thing he's had to a child. Ever. You are his closest living relative in terms of endearment. He would not have left you in charge here if he did not trust you completely.”

He felt his heart thudding in his chest like a racing autocannon.
To have earned Damien's respect and his trust is no small thing. He's so cold and emotionless most of the time it's so difficult to get a read on his thinking.

“But it's not just to Hidelborg, Aaron. If we win the coming conflict, and we will, Damien will inherit Magdeborg and the entirely of the Commonwealth. You are the next Archduke once we do away with Kristoffer in due time. The Commonwealth will be yours one day.”

Aaron took a deep breath and paced, his energy and excitement making sitting still impossible. He stared out the window of his office quietly. He clasped his hands behind his back and rocked back and forth on his heels. “I wish Damien were here. I never thought this would be this difficult.”

“You can save Goteborg.”

“Protecting Goteborg I can do, but this is politics at a level I've never played before. He could be Salena's prisoner by now. What then? I leave the Goteborg March undefended and try to bust him out? You know I can't do that.”

Reyna lay down on the couch. She propped her head up on the arm and regarded Aaron carefully. “You won't go to free him?”

“No,” Aaron said quickly. “I can't strip the border of the defenses. The border houses alone do not have the strength to repel the Dominion if they come knocking.
When
they come knocking,” he corrected. “I can't abandon Goteborg and the remnants of my own house.”

“How noble,” she said. He wasn't sure if she was mocking him. Probably.

Aaron rolled his eyes. “You'd have done the same.” He paused suddenly as he turned away from the windows.
Would she?

“Your duty is important to you Aaron, but with Damien in danger now, your inheritance is in jeopardy. You are the heir to House Mercer now that your brother is gone, but what will you inherit from your mother? Damien is offering you a bright future. Don't throw it away.”

“So you want me to try to save him if Salena takes him hostage?”

Reyna sighed. “I want you to make the best decision for yourself. What matters more to you? Your duty or your future?”

Aaron rubbed the thick plastic window thoughtfully.
My life was all about duty. Duty to my family, my house, my world, my nation. I never expected to inherit much of anything from my mother when we had Haberton anyway. Franklin was the heir to the house so maybe I'd get a small fief somewhere to live comfortably if I lived long enough, but the entire Commonwealth?

“I don't know,” he said. “This isn't a decision I want to make.”

“It's one you might have to-”

“I know!” He snapped, whipping his head in her direction. “We'll cross that bridge when we get there, but, for now, I have to worry about protecting Goteborg from Pershing and Kristoffer from Slader and myself.”

“Today is Archduke Peter's funeral.”

“So?”

“Coronations occur on the day of the deceased Archduke's funeral. Technically today he would become the Archduke so we can't throw him out of an airlock,” Reyna said.

“Well, we could. I think you meant to say 'we shouldn't,'” he said sardonically.

“See, you should keep some humor more often. You're not Damien.”

Aaron joined her on the couch and she rested her head on his shoulder. Damien always had great patience in considering plans and outcomes. He could spend hours in front of a fire, thinking and planning contingencies every step of the way. Aaron could mimic Damien's habit; he had an old petroleum based lighter in his office and had been tempted to try seeing what the Lord General saw though he never found the courage. Usually such devices were frowned upon on board ships. A burning planet-based structure could be evacuated, ships typically could not. The very necessary oxygen became the flashpoint that could incinerate a ship in a matter of minutes. But Damien was royalty and he could light as many fires as he pleased, literally and figuratively. He was well aware that Damien was a little off as some of the other nobles put it, but the man got results.

But what if Damien did not return? What if he was imprisoned or executed on Magdeborg?
Aaron took a deep breath. He trusted Damien of course. He was no fool. But could Salena outsmart him? She had already taken Magdeborg in a coup, crushed the Sørensens and imprisoned them. Could she do the same to Damien?