Schism of Blood and Stone (The Starfield Theory Book 1) (42 page)

Archduchess Salena Teton-Sten

Duchess of Danvers, Archduchess of the Magdeborg Commonwealth

Sten Palace, Magdeborg, Magdeborg Commonwealth

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The statues of Magdeborg's former dukes and duchesses passed by in a blur. Salena paid them no heed and did her best to ignore their scrupulous gaze as she hurried to the throne room.

She knew they would be furious at her. She could almost hear their voices in her head. Describing the funeral as a disaster would be using language too gentle. Damien had lied to her directly, declared open rebellion, and, to add insult to injury, escaped from Magdeborg unharmed with a majority of the Sten House Guard. It was an embarrassment to her rule. Now the dead Archduke was showing up around the palace, hiding in some corner or taking over the face of a trusted adviser for a moment or two. She could never be alone, that's when he appeared the most.

It was silly. There were no ghosts, no spirits, no dead archdukes coming back to haunt her. She was tired, and the funeral made her realize how much she missed her brother despite their differences. She needed more sleep. She would lay awake at night thinking while Richard slept beside her. Her mind would rumble like an engine until daylight crept into the room like an unwanted guest. Then she would pretend like she had just woken from a good sleep when Richard opened his eyes. He suspected nothing of course.

Exhausted visions of her brother aside, the capital was still in turmoil. She had no choice. She declared martial law, locking down the city, ordering curfews and manhunts for any House Guardsmen or Sørensens who fled. The crackdown only netted a few who were promptly executed. The military losses suffered to the Teton army were not grievous, the House Guard had limited civilian casualties and even avoided killing Teton troops where they could. Their purpose was escape, not cause destruction. They wanted to stir the civilians and make them question Salena's grip on power.

A distinct unease had settled over the capital lately after the executions of captured Sten House Guardsmen and some of their Sørensen allies. Their corpses were still rotting in the cages hanging from the Azuren Arkship. That in itself was a political statement. Not only could she remove who she needed, but that she could do it on Azuren grounds indicated their tacit support. The people, as dense and ignorant as they were, appreciated brute force with it was applied correctly.

In the weeks between the death of Archduke Peter and the funeral they had been afraid. Salena had been the salve to that fear and they'd returned to be placid. Now they were fearful again. After Damien's eulogy they had armed themselves, afraid that a general uprising would threaten their homes and shops. Several civilians had been killed by other civilians claiming to be protecting what was theirs. It took days, but the Teton troops and police forces in the city had regained order, subdued the fear and even now, maintained tight control, watching for subversives and unrest. There was a cautious calm now.

Behind her, a retinue of officers and advisers hurried to keep up. They prattled on about various political issues and military concerns, but she was doing her best to ignore them, too. They were so needy. Why couldn't they handle these minor disturbances on their own

“That brings us to one final issue, Archduchess,” one of the advisers said. “Mr. Filipov has not sent word. We believe he is missing and presumed dead or captured.”

Salena stopped in her tracks, leaving the advisers to tumble into each other.

“Excuse me?”

The man cleared his throat, recovering. “Yes, my Lady. It's possible he was injured or killed during the disturbances.”

“How long has it been?”

“Over a week, my Lady.”

She cast a look at Magnus who shrugged indifferently. He had been following, almost bored, at the back of the procession. He wanted to be in the field, but she had kept him in the palace during the unrest where he had paced uneasily and watched events unfold from the windows. He was like a caged animal.

“Explain to me very carefully what happened,” Salena growled crossing her arms over her chest.

The adviser glanced aside for support from his colleagues, but they seemed content to distance themselves from him. Some did literally. Salena knew she did not have a reputation for protecting messengers.

“My lady, the day of the funeral we sent a party to observe his operation zone, uh, the apartment building. They found the bodies of two marines and no sign of Mr. Filipov. Some of the blood at the scene tested positively as his. If he was wounded and escaped, he would have returned here. We believe, then, that he has been captured,” the adviser choked out, no doubt recalling the cries for help uttered by the traitors who hung outside the Arkship.

“And what is being done to recover our lost agent?”

“We were waiting for a note of ransom, my Lady. So far, nothing.”

She fixed him with an angry stare. “I want search parties looking for him. Tear this city apart if you have to. I want him found immediately.”

“Yes, Archduchess.”

Salena waited a few seconds, but the adviser still remained in her shadow.

“What in Ithix are you waiting for?!” She bellowed at him. “Does the word 'immediately' confuse you?”

The adviser turned as pale as the statues then hurried from the group. The others watched him retreat then regarded Salena cautiously.

“That goes for the rest of you as well. I don't want to hear any further reports unless it's good news. I am growing tired of your incessant whining.”

She watched them go, but grabbed Magnus' arm as he turned to follow them. “Not you. Walk with me.”

Magnus followed a respectful step behind her and waited patiently for her to speak. She let him mull over the purpose of their impromptu meeting. It should have been obvious, but judging by his recent behavior, it may not have been as clear as she'd hoped. Perhaps she was restraining him somewhat, but Magnus needed new battlefields to conquer until the situation had calmed. She could not risk her heir in senseless bloodshed.

“It is time to start thinking of the future, my son,” she started.

“The future? Are we not already doing so by rounding up the insurgents and looking for Damien's whore?” Magnus asked.

“Those are but short term goals,” she cautioned as she resumed her walk. “We must look to the future of our house, your eventual rule as Archduke and the continuation of the line.”

“You mean marriage,” he stated simply. She detected a trace of reluctance as if a child being told to go to bed.

Salena nodded and smiled. “Don't sound like it's such a terrible thing!”

He smiled sheepishly. “Isn't that something for older people?”

“And you're so young? You're nearly thirty! Most are matched ten years younger!”

“There's a lot I have yet to do. With the rebellion still active here, shouldn't I tend to those matters before, you know, think about heirs?” Magnus frowned deeply, his face crinkling like his father's. But there was thought there. That was the real difference. Richard was too much an oaf sometimes.

“We must have allies, my son. Strong ones. And we must look proactive. We are not sitting on the throne to keep it warm for the next ass to sit on. We plan on holding it, permanently.”

“But, mother, the wedding is only a year away-”

She wheeled on her son. “No, Magnus, it is not something that can wait!”

Magnus stopped and looked away, seeming to bite his tongue. Salena held her glare a moment longer.

“Stop being insolent. The sooner your children come of age the more secure the throne will be for us. I will not see my family's future be threatened because you're nervous.”

“I am not nervous-” Magnus started tersely.

“No. You won't be. And I won't have you risking your life until the bloodline is secure. That's final. The sooner you get to business the sooner you can have your war,” she said, then continuing on to the throne room.

“I'm sorry, mother-”

She held up a hand, silencing his apology.

“I've been tired. I can't sleep. Don't tell your father,” she said.

Magnus followed in her footsteps a few moments more before asking, “What do you want me to do?”

“I want to push up the date of your wedding to next month. I was always partial to April fifteenth.”

“Your anniversary,” Magnus said.

Salena smiled and raised her eyebrows in mock surprise. “Ah, so you remember now. You never did before.”

“That's hardly a month, though. That's not enough time to plan a wedding,” Magnus complained.

“You planned the assault on Magdeborg and threw out the Sørensens in less than a month, correct? Surely a wedding will not be as taxing.”

“Those are very different battlefields. I've trained to fight my entire life. I don't know anything about weddings.”

“The Masons control the most important military factory anywhere in the Human Core. Their armies are outfitted with Harding technology. With them as our allies, we can purchase that material from them more cheaply and give ourselves the edge against my brother and the Dominion. We need their alliance now more than ever. If Damien has taken the House Guard and is rallying the border houses to his cause then we will need the weapons and manpower.”

Magnus seemed to sigh.

“You like her?”

Magnus shrugged. “I suppose so. She's pleasant enough. Pretty, but I don't know her. What if she's...weird?”

“Oh stop it. We need their help and this is the best way to get it.
Kendra is an intelligent woman. She will be a fine adviser for you and hopefully bear you many heirs. Though, I wonder if her parents know they will not take the Mason name. Although Sten-Mason has a particular ring to it, yes?”

Magnus smirked. “A lot goes into a name, but we are Tetons.”

“Don't ever forget it,” she said pointedly.

They passed yet more statues of ancient Sten dukes and duchesses. Salena imagined they were listening in on their conversation and she wondered just how many others they'd have heard over the thousands of years.
How many other conspiratorial discussions took place in these halls?

“I imagine Duke Frederick Mason supports the new date?”

“Duke Frederick Mason would support any date that brings him more wealth and power. And you'd be wise to remember that. Respect that power, Magnus. Titles aren't the only thing that brings power.”

Magnus nodded and seemed to file that note away. “A month,” he echoed.

“You will do us proud, my son,” she tried to reassure him. “It is a good match. Kendra Mason will captivate the commoners; they love her. Of course, I'd prefer if it were our own Cassandra who wielded such power, but her time will come. The cards are just not arrayed for her yet,” Salena said sadly.

“She had a hand in this, didn't she?”

Salena thought back on her daughter, surely spinning some political web of her own right now. She was so reliable, so hard working, so clever, just like her mother. Her foresight served her well, even more so that her suggestions were spot on with Salena's plans. There were times Salena regretted not naming her the Teton-Sten heir. But tradition demanded the first born, the warrior, take the throne, regardless of gender. The sword displayed so predominately in the Sten seal was not there just for show. House Sten and the Commonwealth were forged by the sword in the fires of war.

She remembered Damien's anger again at being passed over for Peter.
I don't suppose I can blame him. The thing he had coveted and trained for his entire life was snatched away. I could not do that to Magnus.

“Of course. Cassandra has her finger on the pulse of the Conclave. It will serve her, and you, well after I am gone. She looks out for you, Magnus. Do not forget her, do not do to her what my brothers did to me,” Salena said. “Cassandra is your sister and she has your best interests at heart.”

Salena let that thought sink in then dismissed it from her mind.
I will not be gone for some time. Not unless I am assassinated by Damien or if Magnus thinks he deserves the throne earlier than he already does. He is sharp, but not sharper than I. I have a long and glorious reign ahead of me,
she thought, more to reassure herself than anything else.

“Once you and Kendra are married and an heir is on the way, you can return to the field and clean up the remaining Sørensens though I'm surprised it's taken this long.”

Magnus stopped short.

“We are not equipped to fight a guerrilla war here. We don't know the terrain, the city, or even the planet as a whole. The Sørensens in the countryside are well armed and enjoy the support of the people. We can't leave the city without the alarm being raised and Sørensen ambushes targeting my troops,” Magnus said through clenched teeth. “They are stronger than we previously believed.”

“Then a change in strategy is needed. If the enemy goes to ground, leave no ground to go to,” she said firmly.

“Are you giving me carte blanch to start burning the countryside?” He asked.

“Do what must be done.”

“It will never work,” he said closing his eyes and sighing in frustration.

“I have assurances from my other generals that such a strategy will cut off the resistance from its supplies and its support.”