23 The Black Bag Strikes Again #3
“What does loyalty have to do with it?” Zukov asked in return. “Of course we want to manipulate her. Everyone wants to manipulate her. The difference is we want to manipulate her for her own good.”
I scoffed, but Zukov continued. “The Emperor is a powerful figure, full of verve and energy.
Her ideas and enthusiasm could revitalize the Empire.
Already, she has united the Voidsky lords and led us to a victory grander than Simeon the Great ever achieved.
What could she accomplish if she reigned for three dozen years?
Five dozen? A century or more? How grand would she leave our Empire?
How stable? To an old loyalist like myself, the idea is as intoxicating as wine is to you.
“But, the Emperor is young, inexperienced. She makes mistakes which will get her killed. Mistakes like you.” Zukov leaned forwards. “I will not allow you, intentionally or not, to harm our Emperor and our Empire.”
“And how will you stop that? The Emperor’s Champion thinks I’ve already endangered the Emperor simply by existing.”
“Because you do,” Ankhelina shouted.
“Please!” Zukov roared, then settled back into his calm state. “Captain Boylan, I simply want to ask you some questions and listen to your answers. If your responses are satisfactory, we will allow you to remain by the Emperor’s side and help her lead us into a glorious new future.”
“Why would you believe anything I say?” I asked.
“Because you Commonwealthers value your lives. You will give me the truth to save your skin,” Zukov said.
“And give you leverage you could use against Astrid? Never,” I replied.
“Even if the alternative was death?” Zukov asked, his keen zeroblade claws tapping against one another.
I glared at him. “I know you intend to kill me. I’ve seen your faces, so you can’t let me live. Well, if it’s to be death, then get it over with. I’m not afraid. I’ve not long to live anyways, and I’ll die happy knowing I served my country and my beloved.”
Zukov struck faster than I could have imagined, knocking me backwards and landing on my chest. Even had I not been bound, I would not have had time to defend myself.
His zeroblade claws sliced through my shield and scored my face, sending rivulets of blood down my cheeks and neck.
His thumbnails hovered millimeters from my eyes, impossibly sharp, glistening oddly as the points sliced through the air at a molecular level with every minute motion.
“This is your last chance,” the demon count growled.
I swallowed my fear and readied myself for death. “My answer is unchanged.”
We remained there for what felt like an age, the demon lord kneeling on my chest, his fingers at my throat, his thumbs at my eyes, and yet, I did not die.
His claws did not move, either to slice my arteries or to dive through my eyes and into my brain.
Eventually, the demon general stood, relieving the pressure on my chest and withdrawing his deadly claws.
“I believe him,” Zukov said in Imperial.
“Fool,” Ankhelina spat. “Do you not doubt he’ll compromise our Empire as soon as it serves his petty Commonwealth?”
“I believe you are correct,” Zukov said, “but I also believe he will not harm our Emperor in so doing. He’s too besotted with her.”
“He must be faking it. He’ll betray her,” Ankhelina insisted.
“And when he does, you will be there to kill him,” Zukov said.
“In the meantime, he may be an asset to us. An Emperor in love is not an Emperor angrily fending off suitors, and having a consort to target splits the attention of would-be assassins.” Zukov stood over me, staring deep into my eyes as he spoke.
“And I have a feeling he might be amenable to our aims, if he will but listen.”
Count Zukov switched back to Commonwealth Basic. “In the meantime, we shall release you back into the wild. Go, frolic, enjoy your time with the Emperor under Ankhelina’s watchful eye.”
I glanced over at the Emperor’s Champion, who was glowering at me from a corner. “I can’t trust her. She hates me.”
“But she loves the Emperor, and that is what matters, does it not? If you knew what Ankhelina has done to ensure the Emperor’s rise to power, you would not doubt her loyalty,” Zukov said.
“Sadly, I don’t know anything that happened during Astrid’s coup, only that her father and her husband perished during it,” I said.
Zukov gave me a penetrating stare. “We’ll have to change that.”
Ankhelina started. “Count Zukov, we cannot give confidential intelligence to an enemy of the state.”
“I must agree with the Champion,” I said. “Anything you give to me will surely find its way to Royal Military Intelligence.”
“I see no harm in sharing the details of events more than twelve years past. Most of the people involved are dead by now anyways,” Zukov said with a vicious smile.
He gave me a bow, a clumsy impression of a Commonwealth courtly gesture.
“Good evening, Consort. I hope you sleep well. I’m certain we’ll see you tomorrow,” he said, then left, followed by Ankhelina and the other assembled conspirators.
It was only after they closed and locked the door that I realized they hadn’t bothered to untie me.