The Round Table (Space Lore Book 3) (21 page)

When she thought about how many people had died as a result of her own kingdom’s battles with Mowbray, she could only close her eyes and try to calm herself and work to ensure it never happened again.

Once she saw the wisdom of what Mortimous was suggesting, the solution of the round table was obvious. Bring together a representative from each kingdom, put them all around one table, each with an equal voice. Let them come together rather than battle each other. Have the galaxy focus on what was best for everyone rather than the glory of an individual leader.

“You’re going to host some round table meetings?” Morgan said through her teeth, her hands balled into fists. It didn’t help that Vere’s response to her friend’s anger was to offer a gentle smile. “That’s your solution? You think the other rulers are going to join you at some table? What’s to keep them from all voting against you and running your kingdom for you?”

Vere had it all figured out. That was why she kept grinning, because she was sure that Morgan and the others would eventually see the beauty of what she was suggesting.

“They won’t be at the round table,” she said. “And neither will I.”

Morgan brought one of her hands up and took hold of Vere’s collar. A couple of years earlier, Vere would have smacked the hand away, letting the gesture derail the discussion and prompting another fight to break out. Now, she merely looked down at the fistful of cloth and shrugged.

“Start making sense,” Morgan growled. “I swear, make sense or I’m going to knock some sense into you.”

“It wouldn’t work if I was at the table. Like you said, no room full of rulers would be able to agree on anything. They would each have their own ambitions and agendas. It can only work if you find someone ordinary, someone who doesn’t care about territories or colonies or taking as much power as they can. Those are the people who will represent each kingdom at the round table.”

Morgan sighed and let go of Vere’s jacket. She looked for someone else to say something, but no one would. Instead, she saw groups of people gathered, each waiting for their chance to greet Vere, but all of them sensing that they shouldn’t interrupt whatever discussion was taking place.

“The CasterLan Kingdom will be ruled by a bunch of farmers and blacksmiths from all around the galaxy—is that what you’re telling me?” Morgan asked, trying to laugh at the absurdity of it all.

“I can’t think of anyone better,” Vere said. “They would certainly do a better job of leading than I did, or Mowbray, or any of the other rulers.” When Morgan started to protest, Vere added, “But only the rulers who agree to step down will have a representative at the round table. And they aren’t going to be presiding over just the CasterLan Kingdom, but every kingdom that has a seat at the round table.”

“Vere, why would any ruler voluntarily step down and give up their kingdom?”

“I am,” Vere said with a smile, certain that it was a matter of time until Morgan shared her vision.

Instead, Morgan shook her head. “Let me rephrase that. Why would any
sane
ruler step down and give up their kingdom?”

“They won’t have a choice,” Vere said. “As soon as their citizens see a kingdom led by the people, not by someone who never should have been their ruler in the first place, they’ll start to see that they should be living in that same sort of kingdom. They’ll become restless. They’ll demand change. Each time another kingdom is disbanded and has a seat at the round table, the subjects in every other kingdom will want the same thing. All around the galaxy, people will see what’s happening and they’ll demand a change. Eventually, the entire galaxy will be free of rulers and will be led by the common voice of people who simply want to live in peace. That’s why I’m giving up the CasterLan Kingdom—for peace.”

A table without someone at the head. A table large enough for every kingdom to have a seat. It was the answer to all of the galaxy’s suffering.

The longer she had pushed the wheel, the longer she had spoken with Mortimous and went through every possible shortcoming of the round table, the clearer the solution had become. Not only was it the right idea, but she was sure that if she had encountered it two years earlier, she might have saved herself from the Cauldrons of Dagda. She might have saved her fleet from being decimated and even saved her kingdom from defeat. Her mother and Mortimous had been right all along; it wasn’t the Excalibur Armada that would defeat Mowbray, it was the round table.

More throngs of supporters found Vere and encircled her. Everyone that was within hand’s reach touched Vere’s shoulders, arms, even her face.

“You’re back,” one said.

“I never thought I’d see you again,” another said.

Too many voices to tell apart. Too many well-wishes to hear them all.

And yet Morgan still wouldn’t let go of Vere’s jacket.

A hush came over the crowd, with the group moving apart so someone could make their way closer to Vere. An incredibly muscular man, his torso on top a disc of energy where his hips would have been if he had legs.

“Hector,” Vere said, smiling.

At an early age, Hector had been on a path to becoming one of the CasterLan Kingdom’s most celebrated generals. There was nothing he couldn’t do in war. Yet, even he had lost half of his soldiers in battle, along with his legs. He had come to realize the wars he had fought were never necessary, were only started by flawed leaders seeking fame and prestige by sending other people to fight on their behalf. After refusing replacement android legs, he had also declined to fight in any more wars.

He was here now, however, and his eyes were wide with astonishment at the things Vere had done.

“It’s an incredible thing,” Hector said. “Your message worked. Gerchin the Suspicious, Kaiser Doom, Lord Plonnenst—they’re all on their way. And many, many more.”

“Their fleets?” she asked.

Hector nodded. “Yes. Ten so far. More sending communications every hour to say they’ll join your cause. I can’t believe it. Mowbray would be foolish to face them.”

Morgan finally released her grip to allow Vere to leave.

Instead of walking away, Vere put a hand on her friend’s shoulder and said, “Well then, I say we get out of these asteroids and go home. What do you think?”

As much as Morgan still bristled at fighting for a ruler who wanted to give up her kingdom, she couldn’t help but smile when she heard the word
home
.

Edsall Dark, where that bloody traitor Scrope was hiding. Where they would have their revenge.

52

When the first ships came through the Tevis-84 portal, Scrope whimpered. Llyushin fighters. They would be followed by Solar Carriers. He had been sending Mowbray urgent requests for troops, yet every communication had gone unanswered. Even if the fleet of Athens Destroyers arrived in a couple days, it would be too late for him. He had nowhere to run and nowhere to hide.

As he watched, the Pendragon appeared through the portal. A moment later, the Griffin Fire.

It was difficult for him to decide who he was the most afraid of. Traskk had claws and fangs and would gladly rip him to shreds. After all, Scrope had been the one who had chopped off the Basilisk’s arms, legs, and tail. Scrope’s own legs trembled, thinking of how far Traskk would go in brutalizing the man who had betrayed him before he considered the debt repaid.

And yet Vere had the potential to be just as brutal. There was no telling what kind of example she might make of him. He would be publicly executed. School children would see his death as a lesson of what happened to traitors. The crowd would chant his name, along with every filthy nickname they could think of for the man who had double-crossed an entire kingdom. She would make sure his name was synonymous with failed treachery and incompetent evil.

Morgan, though, would do her damage in a different way. Traskk might tear him apart, but he imagined—hoped—it would at least be quick. Vere would have him executed and seal his legacy, but his death wouldn’t be gruesome. Morgan, on the other hand, would take her time and make sure he was tortured for hours or days. Maybe weeks. She would hurt him as severely as possible without allowing him go into shock. Then she would stop for a day to let his injuries heal before going at him again. She would break his nose, have a medical bot fix it, then break it again. Over and over. Maybe a hundred times. There was no telling how much vengeance she was capable of before she grew weary and killed him.

More Solar Carriers were passing through the portal above Edsall Dark. There weren’t many, certainly not the fleet of nearly one hundred he had seen at the battle of Dela Turkomann, but they were massive flagships and he was one man. He knew his time was rapidly coming to an end.

Looking over at the window, he thought about jumping to his death. It would be quick and painless. Or he could hang himself. Or slit his own neck. He had options. They just weren’t the kind of options he wanted.

53

Although Mowbray hadn’t given Scrope any ships or soldiers to defend the planet, he did have his engineers construct a new portal above Edsall Dark. It spoke volumes about the Vonnegan ruler’s reputation throughout the galaxy that no pirates, warlords, or other kingdoms had dared to send their forces through the energy field to capture the defenseless planet.

Even though Edsall Dark was supposed to be an easy target, the remaining CasterLan forces took every possible precaution upon arriving back home. First, a group of Llyushin fighters led the way by passing through the portal before any other ships. With their sensors on, the ships circled the Crown to make sure it wasn’t being powered up. Next were the Solar Carriers. After they passed through, along with the Griffin Fire and Pendragon, the flagships provided cover for each other and for the few frigates still under Vere’s command. To ensure the CamaLon spaceport wasn’t booby-trapped, a squad of CasterLan soldiers dropped down onto the platform and did a full sweep before any vessels landed.

In every instance, their precautions turned out to be unnecessary. Everything they had heard about Mowbray leaving Scrope on his own was indeed true. The Crown was never activated against them. There was no one waiting near the spaceports to ambush them. No explosives had been set up to destroy ships as they landed.

Even so, Vere, Morgan, Traskk, and a squad of CasterLan soldiers remained cautious as they made their way off their respective ships. While Pistol remained aboard one of the Solar Carriers to get his eye and arm repaired, everyone else made their way into the city center.

“It really is a ghost town,” Morgan said, looking around at the empty buildings and quiet streets.

Vere listened to the echo of Morgan’s words in the empty alleys, then said, “I never thought I’d see CamaLon in this condition.”

Having received reports on Edsall Dark’s status, Morgan already knew what to expect. It was her secret hope that seeing her former home in this state would be enough to make Vere change her mind, to see that the CasterLan Kingdom was worth returning to its former glory. Certainly, seeing it abandoned would make Vere rethink what she planned to do.

And yet, as they walked from one formerly busy street to another, now deserted and infested with rodents, Vere didn’t seem nearly as upset about the condition of the capital as Morgan did.

“It’s like something out of a nightmare,” Morgan said, standing in an open square, a statue of Colber the Generous towering behind her. It had been a place where hundreds of vendors used to sell produce, blankets, and trinkets. Now, the entire square was empty.

“All it needs is for the people to return,” Vere said, inhaling deeply. “If you close your eyes you can still smell the fresh-baked bread they used to sell here. We just need to get everyone to return.”

Morgan sighed and shook her head. “You really think it’s that simple?”

The old Vere would have taken offense to being questioned in front of her soldiers. Even without them there, she would have taken a step forward and stood eye to eye with Morgan to see if she wanted to make an issue of it. Now, though, Vere only smiled and nodded.

“Of course I do,” she said, continuing through the streets.

Rather than argue with someone who didn’t care to fight back, Morgan signaled to the squad commander and to Traskk that she was going off by herself.

There were no personal transports zipping through the streets. No hover-taxis taking people where they needed to go. With the streets perfectly silent, she could hear Vere and Traskk and the others as they made their way through the curving CamaLon alleys toward the capitol building and the king’s chambers.

Morgan didn’t know what enraged her the most. She knew when she signed up for the CasterLan academy that the day might come when she lost friends to war. Even before she had actually entered the military and had it drilled into her that people died in space each time a battle was waged, she knew the tallies of casualties in all of the historic galactic wars. If Vere had her way, though, Morgan would be losing more than she ever thought possible. It was one thing to lose a superior officer or friends or soldiers under her command. It was quite another thing to simply give the kingdom away as Vere intended. Thousands and thousands of lives had been lost aboard the Solar Carriers that had met the Vonnegan fleet above Dela Turkomman. They had been under her command. They had been people she considered friends. Beings from dozens of alien species had come together to operate those Solar Carriers and they had died while she was responsible for them. Each of them had families. How many of them would have been willing to risk their lives if they had known the kingdom they had been fighting for would be ruled not by Vere or any other CasterLan representative, but by a round table of citizens from various kingdoms around the galaxy?

She passed through a cross street where she and the other cadets in her class had passed during each of their morning runs. At the time, they had needed to duck and dodge and twist to avoid the people gathered on the busy sidewalks. She had laughed and joked with her friends while they ran. That seemed like ages ago. Back then, the pavement had been packed with humans and every imaginable kind of alien. Now, they were deserted. Without anyone working to keep the city maintained, the sidewalks were cracked and covered in grime.