The Thirteenth Man

by J. L. Doty

  Her revelation stunned Charlie, though it confirmed some of the more fantastic rumors he’d heard. He asked her a number of questions, but she knew nothing more. She’d heard, purely by chance, a word or two between her father and Adsin, and had drawn a rather broad conclusion from very little data. “Thank you,” he said, “but I have to go, and we shouldn’t be seen together. Wait a few moments after I’m gone before you leave.”

  She nodded, and he turned away from her. But he’d taken only a single step when she gripped his arm and pulled him back. Then she kissed him—­not a chaste little peck on the cheek or lips, but a full and unreserved kiss, her body pressed against his hot with passion and emotion. She then pushed him away and laughed. “No. You wait a moment, then leave.” She grinned as conspiratorially as Roacka might have, and walked away.

  Charlie’s guards had clearly enjoyed the exchange. So he shut them up with a few harshly snapped orders and their smiles disappeared. It was with the utmost respect, then, that the older, more senior one pointed out that he should remove the lady’s lip paint from his own lips.

  They made their way to the throne room and Charlie took a place among the masses of high-­ranking commoners and lesser nobility that lined the periphery of the massive hall, all waiting for the Nine to arrive. The whole time, though, he couldn’t stop thinking, The Syndonese! What are they in this?

  “Eh, lad,” Roacka said, appearing at his elbow. “I’d ask you why you’re so lost in thought, but I’d be lost too after a kiss like that.”

  “I take it that’s going to make the rounds of the barracks.”

  “Not going to, lad. It’s already made the rounds and come back again a time or two.”

  Charlie leaned close to Roacka and whispered in his ear, “Can you get out of here?”

  Roacka knew him well enough to realize that kissing princesses wasn’t the subject at hand. “Sure, lad, I’m just a spectator.”

  “Get hold of Darmczek on a secure channel. Have him cross-­check the emission signatures of those bogies against the signatures of known Syndonese warships.”

  Roacka shook his head. “Nah, lad, can’t be Syndonese. They don’t have the clearance codes.”

  Charlie looked at Roacka pointedly. “They do if Lucius gave them to Goutain.”

  “Shit!” Roacka swore. “That fucking idiot.”

  “Check it out. Now, not later.”

  “Aye, lad.” Roacka disappeared into the crowd.

  A few minutes later, signaling the beginning of events, Archcanon Taffallo appeared at the entrance to the hall. Preceded by two boys in novitiate’s robes carrying burning incense, and flanked by churchmen of high rank, all dressed in heavily brocaded robes, they moved slowly up the center of the great hall, with Taffallo calmly throwing blessings to right and left. As they approached the throne they turned right, to what would soon be the king’s left when seated on the throne. Taffallo’s seat was, in itself, a throne, though lower and less elegant than the seats the Nine would occupy, which themselves were lower and less elegant than the king’s throne. Taffallo’s attendants would stand, flanking him and behind him.

  The Nine appeared, entering to the sound of trumpet fanfare, all dressed in robes of state and marching slowly up the center of the hall in order of precedence, Nadama and Cesare in the lead walking side by side. Drums rolled, cymbals crashed, and as they passed, everyone bowed or curtsied, some more deeply than others. At the throne they turned left, for by tradition they’d all sit at the king’s right hand, and there they assumed their appointed places.

  A few moments later Charlie noticed Adsin appear from a private entrance hidden behind the throne. As the last notes of the trumpets died, the lord chamberlain of the court struck his staff three times on the floor, and a deep silence descended. “His Majesty, Lucius the First, third to carry the blood of the Stephanovs, thirty-­second in succession of the Plenroix, Harlburg, and Stephanov empire . . .” Empire was a word Lucius had added. “ . . . king of the nine beasts, guardian and protector of the ­people’s faith.”

  The Nine and Taffallo all stood, and along with everyone else bowed or curtsied deeply as Lucius appeared, Adan at his side, Martino and Delilah and a train of attendants behind them. Like the Nine before them they marched slowly up the center. The fanfare, the drumrolls, the cymbal crashes, the trumpets’ blare—­they were quite the same as what they’d all suffered earlier at the entrance of the Nine, just louder and longer. The noise continued as Lucius, Adan, Martino, and Delilah ascended to the throne, and it didn’t die until some seconds after Lucius sat down. Adan then sat on her smaller throne, with Martino standing on Lucius’s right and Delilah standing on Adan’s left.

  Charlie, as was appropriate for all common men in the throng, had dropped to one knee and bowed his head, while all men of noble station had merely bowed deeply. A profound silence descended as Lucius let them remain so for several seconds, and Charlie realized that one knee wasn’t a difficult position for a man to hold, but for the women, an arrested curtsy could be an excruciating affair if forced to hold it for any length of time.

  “Rise,” Lucius called out. “Please, all rise.”

  The petticoats of the ladies hissed noisily as everyone stood, and the Nine and Taffallo returned to their seats.

  “It’s rare,” Lucius continued, “for us to have all of our most trusted vassals assembled at once.” He nodded regally toward the Nine. “And when we do, there is much that must be done. We have before us . . .”

  Charlie tuned him out and carefully scanned the crowd looking for Roacka. Each of the Nine had a bodyguard standing behind them, hidden in the shadows of long, velvet drapes. Charlie could just make out Add’s silhouette behind Cesare. Each also had their heir and an advisor standing more visibly behind them, and of course for Cesare that was Arthur and Winston. Charlie couldn’t locate Ell in the crowd, but if he had he would’ve sent her after Roacka. Syndonese! What schemes had Lucius come up with that involved the Syndonese? And was there an immediate threat, or just some conniving power play?

  Lucius droned on. There was something about a territorial dispute with one of the independent states. He authorized a minor earl to organize a committee to study the matter so that a peaceful negotiation might ensue. Titles and properties were granted, to which the king gave his blessing. It was all business hammered out previously in private counsel with the king and the Nine, now made public. Charlie continued to scan the crowd for any sign of Roacka, but when the lord chamberlain loudly announced something about Aagerbanne, Charlie’s attention snapped back to the business of the court.

  Adsin had stepped forward and stood on the dais to one side of the king and one step down from the throne. “His Majesty has asked me to address the situation with Aagerbanne.”

  Charlie glanced up and saw Cesare frowning, his eyes narrowed with suspicion.

  “As you all know,” Adsin continued, “the crown has, for some time, been negotiating for unlimited access to the Aagerbanni port facilities on Aagerbanne Prime, which would give us access to all the trade routes into the independent states. It would be a financial windfall for all nine duchies as well as independent merchants throughout the Realm.”

  Someone near Charlie grumbled quietly, “But mostly for the crown.”

  As Adsin spoke, his eyes seemed to focus on Charlie. “The discussions were going quite well until about a tenday ago, and then for some reason progress slowed. After several more days of attempted negotiations on our part, it was determined that the Aagerbanni delegates were not negotiating in good faith, so they were placed under arrest yesterday morning.”

  A background of whispers erupted from the crowd as Adsin pointedly looked to the lord chamberlain at the far end of the hall. “Lord Chamberlain,” he said.

  The lord chamberlain rapped his staff three times on the floor and called out, “Charles Cass is called to stand before His Majesty.”r />
  There was a moment of near silence, punctuated by shuffling of feet, then the hiss of whispers from the crowd turned into a rising murmur. The fellow in front of Charlie realized he was standing in Charlie’s way, and he stepped politely aside. That seemed to be a signal for the rest as the crowd parted slowly and a narrow aisle opened before him. Charlie glanced up to Cesare; the look of suspicion on his face had deepened. Winston and Arthur both shrugged, telling Charlie that connecting him to Aagerbanne was a surprise to them all.

  With no choice in the matter Charlie walked forward carefully. He was more than half the length of the hall from the throne as he stepped into the open aisle that ran up its center. He turned to Lucius, bowed deeply, and strode forward. He knew the required formulas, and at the base of the dais he dropped to one knee and bowed his head. “Your Majesty.”

  “Rise, Commander Cass. Stand and let Us see your face.”

  Charlie rose and looked up toward the throne. Adan couldn’t hide her dislike, while Martino was clearly bored and Delilah appeared nervous and tense. Perhaps it was Lucius’s smug, self-­satisfied, and self-­important expression that gave her cause for concern. Certainly it gave Charlie cause, for it was clear Lucius was about to reveal something.

  Lucius scanned the court dramatically and returned his gaze to Charlie. “We know, Commander, that you are greatly concerned about Our negotiations with Aagerbanne, and the possibility of armed conflict. We know too that you hope for a peaceful resolution to this dilemma. And that’s truly admirable in a warrior such as you. Such a combination, the skills of war in a man of peace, is rare indeed, and We see so many ways one such as you might serve the crown. And too, We recognize the debt owed to one who has served Us in the past with such valiant endeavor.”

  Charlie began to fear the worst. He glanced quickly toward the seated Nine, and all but Nadama were hanging on Lucius’s every word. Whatever it was, it looked like Nadama was in on it.

  “We have sought, therefore, to find the peaceful resolution you so dearly desire. In fact, We’ve made it imperative, a prerequisite to any solution. We’ve thought long and hard on this matter, and with counsel from Our most valued advisors . . .” Lucius nodded briefly toward Adsin. “ . . . we have, We believe, a solution that satisfies the needs of all.”

  Out of the corner of his eye Charlie caught some movement in the gallery where the Nine sat. Again he glanced toward them and saw that Add had stepped out of the shadows with Roacka at her side. Roacka leaned forward and whispered in Cesare’s ear, while Add stared intently at Charlie, her right hand raised casually up to her left shoulder where Charlie could see it. In breed handspeak she signed Yes . . . but before she could go on Lucius continued, “There were many questions that We must answer in these deliberations, but there were two key elements to a peaceful resolution. One, how do We proceed from a position of strength? For if one is strong, the opposition loses its vigor, loses its resolution. The second question: how do We administer a new, and possibly unruly, province in a peaceful fashion?”

  The words “new and unruly province” produced a rising buzz from the crowd. Lucius paused, waited for silence to return, and Charlie glanced again up to Add. Yes, she signed. Syndonese. . .

  “The answer to the second question was quite simple,” Lucius continued, “and he stands before Us now, a man of peace who is quite capable of war. To that end, We have this day signed and placed Our seal upon documents annexing Aagerbanne as a Crown State Holding. And we appoint you, Commander Cass, as governor general of the province, responsible for all military and police matters, and reporting only to the new viceroy, whom we shall appoint shortly.”

  The entire hall erupted. Telka, Cesare, and Band jumped to their feet. Faggan, Sig, Rierma, Harrimo, and Karlok leaned forward in their chairs, all but Nadama calling out to the king, some shouting.

  Yes, Syndonese, Add signed. Troops landing now.

  The lord chamberlain rapped his staff on the floor. “Silence. Silence in the presence of the king.”

  The noise dwindled to a low rumble, then a light buzz, and Lucius continued, “The first question, how to proceed from a position of strength, was far more difficult to answer. But the answer, while not obvious, turned out to be a brilliant stroke that in one move turns a potential source of opposition into a source of strength. Commander Cass, let me introduce His Excellency, President Goutain.”

  A large, imposing man stepped out from behind the throne, having entered the hall via a private doorway behind the dais. Again the hall erupted into chaos, and as the chamberlain slowly restored order, Charlie and Goutain studied one another. Goutain was tall, close to two meters, athletically trim, though showing the signs of middle age. When Charlie looked in his eyes he saw only hatred and contempt. The Syndonese dictator probably blamed him for the failure of his last war, and Charlie realized that Goutain would let nothing stand in the way of revenge. In that moment they both understood that one must eventually kill the other.

  “We have, this day, signed and placed Our seal upon documents declaring a mutual defense pact with the Republic of Syndon, and to that end We appoint His Excellency as king’s representative and viceroy of the new province of Aagerbanne.”

  The eruption this time was thunderous. The lord chamberlain rapped his staff repeatedly on the floor to no effect. In the midst of the noise Charlie looked into Lucius’s eyes and calmly said, “Your Majesty, may I ask a question?”

  Lucius couldn’t hear him, so he leaned forward, cocked his head, and put a hand to one ear. He said, “What?”

  That simple action, that visible indication that something more was happening, slowly brought about silence in the great hall. Charlie kept his voice low, though it seemed to echo throughout the room. “Your Majesty, you would appoint a viceroy who has violated king’s law by bringing an armed presence into Turnlee nearspace?”

  Lucius shrugged. “You’re impudent to suggest he’s broken king’s law, Commander. Like others present here today, his personal ship is armed, and he has my permission to ensure his own safety with its presence.”

  Charlie knew he had to take a chance now, take a guess and pretend his knowledge was far more definitive than it was, hoping to get Goutain to reveal his hand. “I’m not speaking of his personal ship, Your Majesty. I’m speaking of four Syndonese warships in close orbit around this planet, and a troop carrier that is, at this moment, landing armed Syndonese regulars in the vicinity of this palace.”

  Even Nadama jumped to his feet this time, shouting with all the rest, and it was clear that Goutain had played them both for fools. If Goutain could take the palace, take Lucius and the Nine and their heirs as prisoners, he’d have the entire Realm in his hands.

  Goutain threw his head back and laughed, then he shouted, “Silence, you fools.”

  His voice carried above the noise and he got his silence, though a background buzz of fear permeated the tomblike stillness of the hall. “Commander Cass, I owe you a great deal.”

  “What is this?” Lucius demanded.

  Goutain said to him, “Shut up, you idiot.” Then he looked over his shoulder, called out, “Tagama,” and a Syndonese officer appeared at his side, a pistol held in his right hand pointed at the floor. Pointing at Charlie, Goutain said, “Kill him, now.”

  The Syndonese raised his pistol, and Charlie knew he had no chance of pulling the small gun that Pelletier had given him quickly enough to save himself. There came a thunderous report and Charlie flinched . . . only to see the Syndonese officer, as if swatted by a giant hammer, topple backward into the drapes behind the throne. Charlie looked up, saw Add had her pistol out and had beaten the Syndonese to the shot. She fired a second shot at Goutain, but he was already moving and disappeared behind the throne. Charlie spotted another Syndonese with an automatic weapon to the left of the throne; the fellow started spraying rounds at the Nine. At some point Charlie had drawn his pistol, though he didn�
��t consciously remember doing it. He aimed, pulled the trigger, and as Pelletier had warned him it kicked like hell and made a lot of noise. But the Syndonese went down. Eight shots then throw it away.

  Seven to go.

  At the entrance to the hall an explosion blew the massive doors off their hinges, throwing shrapnel through the crowd. Charlie stayed low, and using the panicked crowd for cover he pulled out the small recording device, pressed the record switch, and shouted into it, “Sucker punch, sucker punch, sucker punch.” He felt the heat of it even before he tossed it aside and scrambled up to the gallery where Cesare had been seated.

  The hall filled with smoke and energy bolts tore up the decorations as Charlie dove behind the now empty seats of the Nine, where he found Roacka waiting. “Lad, I scrambled ’em as soon as I saw Goutain.”

  Charlie grinned. “And I just sucker punched ’em.”

  Roacka didn’t grin back. “Cesare’s hurt, piece of shrapnel. Don’t know how bad.”

  It was as if all the adrenaline suddenly drained out of him.

  “Take me to him.”

  CHAPTER 9

  ESCAPE FOR SOME

  As soon as Roacka had gotten confirmation from Darmczek that the bogies were Syndonese, he’d had Pelletier put Cesare’s entire guard contingent on alert. There was a private entrance hidden behind the drapes in the ducal gallery, and the guard had just reached an anteroom there when the shooting started. Roacka led Charlie into the anteroom as Pelletier was issuing orders to set up a defensive perimeter. Charlie spotted Arthur kneeling beside an unconscious Cesare as a medic worked on him. Charlie put his hand on Arthur’s shoulder. “How bad?”

  Arthur looked up. “Thank god you’re here. He’ll live, but it was close.”

  The building shook from an explosion somewhere as Charlie took a head count. Faggan was dead; Telka’s heir was dead; Harrimo’s heir was unlikely to live out the hour, and barring a few nasty but non-­life-­threatening wounds the rest of the Nine and their heirs were all present and would live. “Where’s the royal family?”