In Evil Times

by Melinda Snodgrass

  She could see that the bureaucrats handing out treats had been replaced by soldiers. Clearly there had been some sort of altercation. She could see bodies on the snow, but mercifully no blood that she could see. The soldiers were keeping the now restive line in place and under control. Well, she thought, with luck this will be the only center where there was trouble. Of course it would be the center where she had chosen to go. She was certain that information would somehow get back to Cousin Musa to be used as one more example of her unsuitability to rule.

  The little girl wriggled in her arms. “I want my mommy,” she said.

  So did I, Mercedes thought.

  21

  THE CHILDREN’S HOUR

  “Boho is returning to active duty.”

  Estella, seated on the floor, looked up from where she was helping her eldest daughter decide whether the ballerina or the fairy princess outfit was the better choice for her doll. When Mercedes had left for her tour of duty, Estella hadn’t been married. Now seven years later she had a six-year-old daughter and the newest edition to the Brendahl family, Estella’s three-week-old son, Benjamin. Mercedes, sitting on a small sofa, was holding the baby. He was solid and warm and smelled of talc and milk and baby. His eyes were screwed shut as if he was concentrating on the act of sleeping. Mercedes ran a finger across one fat cheek marveling at the softness of his skin.

  They were gathered in the ladies’ salon on the upper floor of the mansion. It was the winter rainy season and the downpour beat a tattoo on the roof, and raindrops ran weeping down the windows. The overcast had darkened the room so a soft-footed Isanjo had entered and lit several small table lamps, giving warmth to the room and deepening the jewel-like colors in the Sidone rug that covered the wood floor.

  Estella gave Mercedes a sharp look then told her daughter, “Jacinta, take Tammy doll and give her a bath before you dress her.”

  The little girl, precocious for a six-year-old, gave them a sharp look. “You and Tiá Mercedes want to talk about Tió Boho, don’t you?”

  “Yes, we do,” Mercedes said. Her voice caught on a laugh.

  “Nurse says he’s been naughty.”

  “Boys are often naughty.”

  “Will Benjie be naughty?” the little girl asked, peering at her little brother.

  “Go!” Estella ordered. Hugging her doll, Jacinta left the room with the air of an offended dowager.

  “She’s going to be a handful,” Mercedes remarked.

  “She already is. And I’m surprised you can laugh about Boho.”

  “So I don’t cry. Or kill him.”

  “It’s Donatella isn’t it?” Estella asked as she stood up off the floor and joined Mercedes on the sofa.

  Mercedes sighed and shifted the baby. He gave a mew of protest then a bubble appeared from between the lips of his bud-like pink mouth. Mercedes wiped it away. “Yes. She made a frightful scene at the Ponis’ ball. Fainted in the midst of a dance. Now the entire FFH is buzzing that she’s pregnant with the consort’s bastard—”

  “Is she?” Estella asked.

  It almost choked her to say it. “Yes. SEGU verified. Which means there is yet another opportunity to talk about how the Infanta has been home from active duty for two whole years and still hasn’t produced an heir.”

  “Do you think it’s because you used those… products?” Estella asked.

  “I consulted a gynecologist. She says I’m fine. There’s no reason I shouldn’t get pregnant.”

  “Maybe it’s Boho. Of course suggesting to a man that his sperm is defective is—”

  “I did. I think that’s why the record number of chillas over the past year.”

  “I’d call them putas even if they do have noble titles,” Estella sniffed.

  Mercedes slipped an arm from beneath Benjamin and hugged her sister. “I love you.”

  “I love you too.”

  Mercedes sighed. “Now Boho can strut and preen because Donatella’s pregnancy proves it’s not his fault. Of course we’re going to smear her, imply she had other lovers and the child isn’t Boho’s but no one will believe it. It’s just plausible deniability.” She sighed again and realized that her burning anger had morphed into weariness and sadness. “I know men have affairs, but I guess I never thought it would happen to me. It hurts and makes me feel terrible about myself. What didn’t I give him that he’s in some other woman’s arms? Then I get mad. If he won’t consider my feelings then he should at least think about his position. God, he’s the consort. He should know better. And know better than to get some girl knocked up.”

  Estella paused and pleated the material of her dress for a moment. “You don’t seem very happy with your husband.”

  “Well, yeah.”

  “I didn’t mean it quite the way it sounded. Of course you’re upset about the mistresses but is there something more?”

  “We grew up together. Have been married almost eight years. We know each other. Maybe too well. And I’ve started to realize that… maybe what we had wasn’t… love. He was handsome and dashing. I think I was infatuated more than in love.”

  “Do you think he loved you?”

  “I think he was blinded by the lure of the crown. What I was more than who I was. There’s only been one man who’s seemed to see me.”

  “You were in love with him. This other man.”

  “I don’t know. I don’t know what love is any more, if I ever knew. I couldn’t have had him anyway. No, Boho was the perfect tool for the task at hand.”

  “Marriage shouldn’t be a task, Mer, it should be a partnership.”

  “But it can’t be. I’ll be empress. He’ll be the consort. He’ll always be less than me.”

  Mercedes handed Benjie off to Estella, stood and paced. The swish of her skirt around her ankles felt strange even after two years at home. Often she returned to her trousers within the walls of the palaces. Five years of freedom aboard ship made it hard to go back to dresses. “I’ve got to get pregnant, Stel.”

  Her sister looked around as if worried that eavesdroppers might be hidden behind the curtains. “There’s always the Cara’ot,” she said softly.

  Mercedes gave an emphatic head shake. “Not a chance. Cousin Musa’s got eyes on me constantly. With every passing barren year I can see him licking his chops.”

  “Daddy could always designate another of us. Julieta would be next in line—”

  “No, you would be.”

  “Oh, no, no, no. I’d be a terrible empress.”

  “So would Jules.”

  “True.”

  “She made damn sure she washed out of the High Ground at the end of the first year and got Izzie and Tanis to do the same thing so she didn’t look so bad. She might have considered how it makes Father look.”

  Estella joined her, tucked her arm beneath Mercedes and turned her nervous pacing into a more decorous stroll around the sitting room. The baby gave a belch and the sisters laughed.

  “Typical boy.” Estella shook her head. “Well, there’s Beatrisa. She did Daddy and you proud.”

  Mercedes smiled fondly. “I get these enthusiastic messages from her every few days. She loves being on a ship and apparently her captain is very pleased with her. I knew she would take to military life like a duck to water.” Mercedes shook her head regretfully. “But there’s not a chance in hell the parliament would approve it and if Daddy tried, Musa probably would start a civil war. He wouldn’t stand for getting passed over a second time. No, the only solution is that I have to get pregnant.”

  “Wish I could do it for you,” Estella said.

  “Or Sumiko. God can she pop them out. Another one last year.”

  “How many is she up to… seven, eight?” Estella asked.

  “Eight, but that’s if you count the little girl from Sinope they’re fostering. She’s only had seven.”

  “Are they broke and need the child subsidies?” Estella asked.

  Mercedes sighed. “I don’t know. Maybe Sumiko does it so she won�
��t have to think about what she doesn’t have. I better get back home, pretend I’m sorry Boho is leaving.”

  Estella kissed her cheek. “Maybe a break is what you both need.”

  “Are you coming to this banquet?”

  “Not a chance.” She hugged her son close and kissed the top of his head. His eyes opened, he yawned and his wandering eyes found his mother’s face. He gave a little toothless smile and Mercedes felt her heart squeeze. “I have the perfect excuse. New baby, jealous six-year-old. Though that second part’s not true, Jacinta loves him, but I’ll embellish like mad if I can avoid Cousin Musa.”

  “Did I say I love you? Actually I hate you,” Mercedes teased. Estella laughed and they hugged one last time.

  Her security detail was waiting outside the Brendahl mansion. As she came down the steps Ian raised the door and she stepped in. The captain climbed in after her and took up a position on the seat facing her. Mercedes’ flitter was surrounded by five identical flitters and they flew an intricate pattern so no one could get an easy fix on which vehicle held the Infanta. While she had been serving aboard the Concepción there had been no worry that she might be assassinated or kidnapped. Such an attempt on a warship would have been suicide, and there hadn’t been any attempts during the two years she had been home. Perhaps her five years of service had proved to the old guard that she could rule, she thought, but she also touched the knife Tracy had given her, which she still carried strapped to her leg, and the pistol in her pocket. Not that either of them would do much against an air-to-ground missile. Still, their presence made her feel better. The chances that someone could launch six missiles to take out all the flitters was remote, and if they could only fire one she had a Russian roulette player’s odds that it wouldn’t hit her.

  She wondered why she was having such paranoid thoughts. Probably because she had to face Musa, his eldest son Mihalis and Jose. The priest had left military service when Mercedes’ tour ended, proving beyond any doubt that he’d joined just so he could keep tabs on her and hear her confessions. Which she had limited to the most venial of transgressions, to his evident frustration. Jose was now secretary to the archbishop of Hissilek, and seemed destined to become a prince of the church.

  Sometimes she wished she’d continued to resist her father’s wishes. Refused to go to the High Ground or washed out like her younger sisters and then married either Mihalis or Arturo. If she had, Musa wouldn’t be a seething mass of resentment, and perhaps she might have conceived with one of the del Campo sons. She’d be home with her children and not worried about being assassinated. Right now a worse fate awaited her—she had to face her disgruntled husband.

  Ian gave a soft cough. She looked up at him. “Yes, Captain?”

  “You seem… sa… distracted,” the officer amended.

  “A bit.” She studied his features. He was an attractive man though his ears stuck out a bit. Chestnut hair, golden-brown eyes and skin like pale tea. She realized his eyes were devouring her face.

  Oh dear. Don’t fall in love with me. I should have replaced you with a gay man when I returned, she thought. But if she had it would have been seen as a black mark on his record. She couldn’t do that to him. So she lied.

  “Just thinking how sad I’ll be to see Boho leave. I’m going to miss him very much.”

  Rogers nodded and the glow faded from his eyes. He leaned back in his seat. “I’m sure you will, Highness,” he said formally.

  Message received, Mercedes thought and felt a momentary flare of regret.

  It was a short hop onto the Palacio Colina, the large hill that housed the palace at the top with the homes of the aristocratic families clustered like gilded mushrooms just below. For a wild moment as they were heading in to land Mercedes almost instructed them to go to Sumiko’s house. She could visit with Christina, the little girl she had rescued from Sinope. She had felt a sense of obligation to the child and seen to it she was fostered in a home on Ouranos so she could keep an eye on her. At nine the child seemed well adjusted and happy and didn’t seem to miss or even remember her other mothers.

  Mercedes knew the impulse was driven by cowardice, a desire not to face her husband, so she bit back the words and let them land. She found Boho in their bedroom kicked back on a settee smoking a Tiponi herb stick and directing his long-suffering batBEM in packing his kit. The Isanjo scurried about adding clothes to the large garment trunk.

  “Good lord, you really think you’re going to need that many clothes?” Mercedes blurted.

  Boho’s satisfied expression curdled. “I’m a captain with my own ship now. I have to set an example.”

  “And set the hearts of provincial noblemen’s daughters palpitating with your splendor,” Mercedes shot back. She was immediately chagrined at her waspish tone. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have…” Why in the hell am I apologizing to him?

  They stared at each other for a long moment. “Get out!” Boho snapped the order to Ivoga, who left like his tail was on fire. He stubbed out the stick, stood and walked toward her. “What happened to us, Mer? How did we get here?”

  “You slept with a string of debutantes.”

  “I needed to know… prove I was still a man. You can’t imagine the pressure I’ve been under. From your father, my father, Rohan, the parliament.”

  “And you don’t think I haven’t felt it? Maybe we’re just not compatible. Maybe I ought to try a string of lovers and see if I’m fertile with any of them.”

  “You would humiliate me like that?” She had hoped for anger so they could fight, but Boho just sounded hurt.

  “Sauce for the gander, Boho.” Her own anger ebbed, leaving in its place a melancholy exhaustion. Mercedes turned away shaking her head. “No. I wouldn’t do that to you.”

  “I’m sorry, Mer.” His arms went around her and he leaned in over her shoulder to press his cheek against hers.

  “I need to bathe and change before dinner,” she said.

  “Will you forgive me?” Boho asked.

  “Probably. Someday.”

  * * *

  It was a lot of family to be wedged into a sitting room. In addition to Cousin Musa and his wife, a mousy little woman who rarely said much, there were two of his three sons, and the eldest of the three unmarried daughters. The girl Sofia, and Izzie who also had yet to be affianced, had their heads together as they gossiped. The lack of a fiancé was something Izzie whined about constantly. Mercedes made a note to ask her father why he hadn’t used her as collateral in the never-ending game of governance. Perhaps he was punishing Izzara for washing out of the High Ground. Tanis had taken vows and become a Celestial Novias de Cristo, and had already borne a child sired by Jose.

  Constanza sat on a gilded chair and looked aloof. Now that Mercedes was approaching thirty the six years that separated them didn’t seem like much. Not for the first time Mercedes wished she and her stepmother were closer.

  Delia and Dulcinea were spending Christmas with their mother, Inez, on Kronos. Once they started at the High Ground next year there would be little opportunity for them to visit. Julieta was home on Kronos with Sanjay and Beatrisa was off happily soldiering. Mercedes hoped Julieta was safe and happy. They hadn’t really been close since Mercedes had made less than tactful comments about Sanjay, and been very critical of Julieta’s failure at the High Ground.

  Mercedes’ gaze went to her youngest sister. Carisa was sixteen now. Delicate, with perfect features, she surpassed all the other eight daughters when it came to sheer beauty. In two years she would enter the High Ground. Mercedes feared how that would go. Carisa had been coddled nearly to death by her mother.

  The rest of the room was filled with shirttail relatives whom Mercedes barely knew. She privately congratulated her father for thinking to include the gaggle of cousins. It would force Musa to be on his best behavior. Good manners were de rigueur for the FFH.

  Mihalis stood next to Carisa leaning over her like an enfolding shadow. As Mercedes watched she saw Carisa reach up
and give her earring three tugs. It had been a signal created by Mercedes, Estella and Julieta when they were trapped and needed rescuing. Someone had obviously clued Carisa in about the gesture. Mercedes crossed the room.

  “Sorry to interrupt, cousin. Carisa, your mother wants you.”

  Carisa curtsied to Mihalis and gave him one of her secretive smiles. The long lashes brushed at her cheeks as she looked down and then peeped up at him. “Lovely talking with you, Mils,” Carisa said.

  She slipped her arm through her half-sister’s and they moved toward Constanza. “Thank you. I wasn’t sure you’d get the message,” Carisa said.

  “Fortunately I was looking your way. Does he bother you often?”

  “Oh yes. I think he’s quite desperate to marry me,” Carisa said.

  “You don’t sound excited at the prospect.”

  “I’m not. I think he only wants me because my mother is still empress, the last wife standing as it were, and they think that makes me more important.”

  “And because you’re beautiful, sweets.”

  “Aren’t all royal daughters beautiful?” Carisa murmured.

  “When did you become such a cynic?” Mercedes asked, startled at the rare display of teeth from this timid girl.

  “How could I avoid it in this family?”

  Mercedes steered them into a quiet corner behind the large grand piano. One of the distant cousins was pounding out, quite badly, a recent hit tune. The music would help cover their conversation and there wasn’t room in the corner for more than just the two women.

  “I don’t think I know you very well, and I’m sorry about that,” Mercedes said bluntly.

  “Mother had something to do with that; maybe we can make use of the time we have before I leave for the High Ground.”

  “I’d like that. And I won’t have a husband to coddle so I’ll have more time.”

  “No, just an empire to learn to rule,” Carisa said with a smile.

  Mercedes lowered her voice. “Are you worried about the academy?”

  “No, I’m actually looking forward to it.”

  Surprised yet again, Mercedes pulled back to get a better look at her youngest sister. “Really?”