9 Midnight Maneuvers #2
“Any peasant can kill with a lancer,” Count Zukov said with finality. All three demons nodded in agreement with this sage statement.
Prince Aureli tried to insert himself into the conversation again. “Well, that’s not entirely fair, is it? The sharpshooting matches today were very impressive. I certainly couldn’t put a beam on a coin at one hundred yards, that’s for sure.”
The demons were silent, their glittering yellow eyes all focused on me. Prince Aureli stood, confused for a moment, then glowered at their rudeness. I sat helpless, uncertain how to salvage the situation.
Darius took a massive pull from his drink, then set down his empty stein and stood.
“Very true, Your Highness. Some of Princess Marie’s groupings?
Put all five shots through the same hole.
I could have sworn she’d only hit the target once.
” He bowed to the kneeling demons. “Excuse me, dread lords. May we drink again.”
“May we drink again,” the three demons chorused.
Darius deftly took Prince Aureli by the arm and dragged him away, his charm turned up to eleven.
Boleslaw lingered a moment to give me another inscrutable glance full of meaning which I failed to understand, then followed, leaving me alone with three massive, deadly demon lords.
We sat in silence. I sipped my beverage, waiting for one of them to say something. When none of them spoke, I searched my brain for a way to start the conversation.
“Earlier, you said two other names, along with Count Gretsky.”
“Prince Kerensky. Count Petrokov,” the demon prince confirmed.
“Who are they?” I asked.
“They were the lords you slew in battle,” Prince Selnikov said.
I sat back, remembering the fights. One was a drop trooper who tried to land on my supply depot in a surprise attack.
I shot him with a lancer as he emerged from his pod before finishing him off with my dirk.
The other was a cavalryman who interdicted our retreat on Gorastern.
I sliced him in two with my greatsword while riding Tilly, after I cut his hoversteed out from under him, along with his left leg.
Neither had been honorably slain. Both suffered bad deaths, painful, slow.
I could not make them clean. I still remember how they snarled at me as I killed them.
“I never knew their names,” I said softly, my last motes of energy bleeding away.
“They were not important to you then,” Prince Selnikov said.
“And now it’s important to you who I killed? How did you find out?”
Count Zukov spoke. “We looked into your combat record, compared your reported kills to our lists of the slain. It was not hard to find comparable deaths.”
The realization that they must have hacked the Royal Commonwealth firewall chilled me. That they would admit their duplicity to me freely scared me even more.
“That’s a lot of effort to go through for a nobody. I’m terribly uninteresting, an aide to the Duke of Lynwyzc, nothing more.”
Prince Selnikov leaned forwards, resting his elbows on the table, his chin on the intertwined claws of his shovel-sized hands. “This afternoon, you became somebody very interesting to us.”
Before I could think of a response, an Imperial lady-in-waiting appeared behind Prince Selnikov’s shoulder, the same massive demoness from before. “Excuse me, Your Eminence, but the Emperor requests the presence of your conversation partner.”
Prince Selnikov finished his stein of drink, staring at me the whole time. “We must not keep the Emperor waiting. Captain Boylan, may we drink again.”
I finished my massive mug, taking a few seconds to gulp down the soothing brew. Placing the empty tankard on the table, I returned his missive and stood. “May we drink again.”
“Follow me, Captain.” The lady-in-waiting turned and began to lead me to the same green baize door I’d gone through to see the Emperor the night before. I made it maybe five steps before Boleslaw was at my side.
“Levar, you cunning fox, we’ve been trying to get the Imp nobles to open up since before you got here. You kill one lowly count, and now the cream of the Imperial crop are lining up to talk with you. What did they say?”
“They wanted to talk about the demons I’ve killed,” I said.
“What, Gretsky?”
“And the two others,” I said.
“Right this way, Captain,” the lady-in-waiting said, gesturing to the open door.
Boleslaw frowned. “Where are you off to now?”
I shrugged. “I’ve been summoned to see the Emperor.”
“Again?” Boleslaw asked, sudden and intense thought furrowing her brow. “You’ll tell me all about it in the morning, right?” she said, trying to give me another of those innuendo-filled looks which I had failed to understand all night.
“Right,” I replied, then I headed through the door.
I was so tired that I stumbled twice going up the steps. Between exhaustion and intoxication, I could hardly stand. I hoped I would give a good account to the Emperor and get out of there before I passed out.
The guards did not try to take my weapons tonight, admitting me to the Emperor’s chambers without hassle. Astrid was seated inside, but the moment I appeared, she stood.
“Captain Boylan. I trust you are well? Please, sit down. May I offer you something to drink? Brandy? Whiskey?” She spoke faster than normal, not hysterically, but with a rapidity which implied nervousness. What could she be worried about? She was the Emperor.
“If you wish me to remain awake, a strong cup of tea would be appreciated,” I said. “I apologize, but I’ve had a long day.”
“Of course.” The Emperor nodded over my shoulder, and a tea tray with two cups, a pitcher of cream, a sugar bowl, and a small plate of biscuits was placed on the table before me.
“Please, sit, drink,” the Emperor said, gesturing to a comfortable-looking chair.
I cautiously lowered myself into it, perching on the edge of the seat to avoid falling asleep in its comfortable embrace.
Something was wrong here. The Emperor was not talking like the Emperor. She was acting like Astrid on our first date.
“Actually, Captain, it is I who must apologize to you, on behalf of my Empire,” she said, pouring herself a cup of tea and snagging a chocolate-covered biscuit.
“What for?” I asked, curious, trying to make sense of things through my sleep-fogged mind. The only thing I could think the Empire had done as a whole was start this war. Was she apologizing for ten years of conflict?
“For the attempt on your life,” Astrid clarified.
I poured some cream into my cup, spilling a little. A hordling wiped up the white puddle before I could put the saucer down. Astrid glared. “Leave us. All of you.” There was a slight scurry and the click of doors closing with finality.
“Count Gretsky’s actions are not your fault,” I said, trying to give her a graceful out. After all, she was an emperor and probably not used to apologizing to captains.
Astrid’s face contorted in a furious snarl. “If I am to call it my Empire, then I should expect obedience from my subjects. I ordered that no visiting dignitaries should be harmed, and the moment a hint of conflict occurred, blades were bared. I will not tolerate such behavior in my new Imperium.”
Part of my brain flagged the phrase ‘new Imperium’ as worthy of further study, but the rest of my brain was too tired to perform the follow-up work. “Well, I don’t hold you responsible for one renegade’s actions.”