“What about rumors of assassination?” Damien asked suddenly.
“Rumors are words in the void, meaningless,” Dietrich said more quickly than he intended. Damien's question had been debated extensively by the Sørensen nobility, but no evidence had been recovered to support such a theory and no dissident groups claimed responsibility. Despite the lack of evidence, they could not ignore the fact a healthy sixty-year-old, middle-aged, man would simply die in his sleep without some assistance.
“My brother deserved better,” Damien replied sternly.
Salena seethed silently. Damien knew her impatience might get the best of her if he delayed Sørensen's announcement by seeming sincere about his concern for Peter. Which, in a sense was not entirely fake, Dietrich realized. Damien and Peter had shared a strong bond being both male and close in age. When young they had often romped around the palace, reenacting old battles or generally causing mischief for their minders and palace officials. Damien knew early in life that, despite his seniority in age, Peter had been groomed for the throne. He was a back up to be used only if the preferred heir did not survive, which had allowed him more freedom to pursue other interests. Few knew about them and those that did wisely kept tight lipped, though Dietrich had heard many rumors of secret contacts and odd religions. When Peter's son, Arthur, was born and Damien was bumped down the list of possible claimants, he focused more heavily in his duties as Lord General, the ranking Commonwealth military commander. Dietrich had long suspected that a rift had formed between the two brothers and their relationship cooled significantly. The throne was out of Damien's reach so he found a challenge that would occupy his entire adult life: fighting the Dominion.
Life on the border worlds had hardened Damien and left him with plenty of scars both physical and emotional. Dietrich had had little contact with him for decades and his sudden concern for his brother was difficult to read. Damien had earned a reputation for cunning in battle and his diplomacy amongst the border houses was astute and balanced. He knew how to play power politics just as well if not better than Salena. His approach was far more furtive, but no less effective. Though neither he nor Salena likely had the resources or capability to assassinate Peter and manage to cover it up so effectively, Dietrich's suspicions remained.
“Yes he did, but after a thorough investigation, we've found no truth to them. The matter must be laid to rest as must Peter. Funeral arrangements have been made and you both will be expected to speak.”
The siblings sat in stony silence. Dietrich felt his eye twitch in disappointment.
“We need to move quickly,” Salena insisted. “The longer we delay the more the Dominion's diplomats call foul to the Azuren Legates. My lord brother needs to prepare his defenses for the Dominion's imminent attack on Goteborg while I move my court to Magdeborg”
“I will leave such preparations for Aaron. You have nothing to prepare for, but getting your mindless sycophants back to Danvers,” Damien retorted.
“It is obvious my brother forgets that he was already skipped over for his chance to rule and for good reason,” Salena hissed.
“Do not remind me of our father's failings!” Damien roared at her. Damien, though older than Peter, had been skipped in the line of succession creating bad blood between him and his father Haakon. Damien was insulted beyond words and apparently his fury has not abated in all this time. Salena is playing a dangerous game.
“You would be most useful urging your husband to send his troops to me to protect the realm,” Damien hammered the table as anger raged behind his eyes like fire. “Surely your silver tongue is up to that task?”
“You had best mind yours more carefully brother, lest you find yourself without one. I am not as forgiving as Peter when it comes to insults,” Salena crossed her arms and glared coldly across the table.
Damien's hand went to the hilt of his blade. “You shall find that rather difficult.”
“Enough!” Lord Sørensen stood much more quickly that a man of his age should have been able to, knocking back the chair and banging the table with his cane. The report echoed as his face contorted in anger, his eyes glared daggers. He held the cane like a weapon, seemingly barely able to restrain himself from lashing out at both of the misbehaving siblings.
“You are a shame to your brother's memory, the both of you!” Dietrich growled. Damien and Salena both blinked and Damien's hand slipped from the blade. Salena cleared her throat loudly and shifted uncomfortably. When they were younger, the job of discipline fell to him when their father was off on political events. Forty years later, they still trembled when they invoked his anger. He found that modestly satisfying.
He took a breath, suddenly remembering the Azuren was watching events unfold with that arrogant smirk on his face. He allowed his anger to fade, composed himself and eased back down in the chair. Alos won't be smiling for long.
“Peter would be furious to see his own kin behaving in such a fashion. Name-calling, petty squabbling, it is beneath your status as nobles. Or should be.” Dietrich said with a calmness that hadn't quite returned. “He never thought either of you were ready to succeed him. When Arthur was born, he confided in me once that he was glad he had a child to replace him one day so that the realm would not fall into either of your hands. He told me that if anything happened to him, I would be regent until Arthur came of age.”
“These stories mean nothing,” Salena hissed at him. “Even if what you say is true, Arthur is dead anyway, so your regency is unnecessary.”
“That much is true,” Dietrich replied honestly.
“Enough of this,” Damien grumbled, running a hand through his ashen hair. “You gathered us here to settle the matter of succession. Get on with it.”
“Peter was devastated when Arthur died,” Dietrich said, closing his eyes and ignoring the lord general. Damien fumed as he settled back into his chair while Salena tapped her fingers against the table anxiously. “Arthur was a gregarious boy, charismatic and intelligent. It was a national tragedy that he died so young. He would have made an Archduke we would never forget. Many had placed their hopes on him to succeed his father and bring about a new prosperity for the Commonwealth.
“Peter blamed himself, of course. He had the boy in his lap during the parade and the assassin lined up a shot that would kill both father and son. For whatever stroke of luck or divine will of Amrah, the bullet ricocheted when it struck Arthur and did not harm Peter. He lost his only son to a bullet meant for him. Archduchess Ciara fell into a deep depression and took her own life while he tore Magdeborg apart hunting for the assassin, but no one was ever found.”
Damien interjected, “The radical Dominion Free Suns movement claimed responsibility, even though it could have been Commonwealth separatists from Radstadt or Azuren interference or just some madman. It sparked the latest war I've been fighting against the Dominion for the last quarter century. We know our history, Dietrich.”
The Sørensen lord continued, “Peter believed he could protect Arthur on Magdeborg, keep him safe from enemies while teaching him statecraft, but when Arthur was killed, Peter realized he needed a change of strategy for the safety of his offspring.”
Salena shook her head. “Peter had no other offspring, unless there are some bastard children pretending to the throne.”
“Peter had no bastard children,” Dietrich said with a knowing smile. “Which is more than I can say for most of the Commonwealth nobility.” Dietrich paused then pushed a manila folder towards each claimant and held up a finger. “However, before she died, Ciara did give birth to twins, Peter Sten's children and rightful heirs.”
Damien opened his folder first and scrutinized the pages with furrowed brow. He turned the pages quickly, taking one in completely before turning to the next. Many had claimed Damien had an eidetic memory and he absorbed, analyzed and reacted to information with inhuman speed. Salena only glanced over the first few pages before shoving the folder away.
“Who are these people?” Sal
ena asked with such vehemence as if she'd taken a bite of a rotten fruit.
“They are your niece and nephew, Kristoffer and Claire Sten. Twenty-six years old, but Chris is the older of the two by just a few minutes, which means according to the rules of primogeniture, the throne belongs to him.”
“Is this some sort of joke, Lord Sørensen? These are lowborn children, brought up by some businessman on Goteborg, not members of the nobility, and certainly no kin of mine,” Salena scoffed. She stood up quickly, brushed her skirt and headed for the door.
“Lady Salena. I suggest you take a seat and read further on the future Archduke of Magdeborg. You will be meeting him in a few weeks. You would not want to appear ignorant,” Dietrich warned.
“Lord Dietrich,” Salena sighed. “I cannot stand for this sort of nonsense. Even if they are who you claim them to be, they have not spent one day in court, have never commanded troops in the field, have no formal education in statecraft nor diplomacy,” she said ticking off the points on her fingers. “I bet they have they have never spoken to a member of the nobility, let alone seen one.”
Damien sighed before leaning back in his chair, “It's all here, Salena.”
“There is nothing there, Damien,” she turned to face her brother. “If these people even exist, they are no progeny of Peter and this whole thing is beginning to sound like a desperate bid for power by the Sørensens.” She turned back to Dietrich, pointing a pale finger at him, “Peter promised you regency if he died before an heir came of age and you want to rule with this boy as a puppet. Your scheming is becoming transparent, dear Sørensen. You had best watch your step, the Commonwealth is still strewn with minefields.”
Dietrich felt his temper rising again. Salena had always been insolent, even when she was a child. She liked to push her minders and bodyguards to the edge. To the best of my memory, she had never taken that tone with me before. She has either grown more arrogant or more powerful. Neither is good.
Before Dietrich could respond, Damien spoke, “You're paranoid, Salena. You see plots and dangers where there is only truth. Everything in these documents lines up precisely with Peter's policies over the last quarter century. Both of them received grants from the Commonwealth government to attend Goteborg University, received internships in Commonwealth agencies, and start up loans for a business. Kristoffer even befriended Ian Evers who then bought him a ship for his hauling firm, probably at the nudging of carefully placed Sørensen agents. All of these opportunities came just after Peter signed them into law. He was paving the way for them.”
Dietrich nodded. “Peter kept a close eye on his children through his surrogates and made sure they never had want for anything.”
“And his sister is just as accomplished,” Damien continued, referring to the dossier more for show than actual need. “An advanced bio-medical degree as well as experience in precursor anthropology. She's an explorer that one, a risk taker. Where is she now, Dietrich?”
Dietrich frowned and cleared his throat. Damien found the crack in the armor and started worrying at the edges. “We don't know. She vanished five years ago apparently over a dispute with her brother and Ian Evers. We have been unable to locate her. We have therefore focused all of our efforts on keeping contact with Kristoffer, as he is the heir.”
“I don't care what they studied in school. It doesn't make either one of them ready for a throne,” Salena insisted. “You don't even know where one of them is. Don't you see what's going on here, Damien? These secrets are being kept from the highest levels of the family. These children, if they even exist, were raised by Sørensens, funded by Sørensens and aggrandized by Sørensens. This is all a Sørensen plot to place one of them on throne. Show some sense, brother.”
Damien waved his hand dismissively. “This is why Peter kept all this a secret. He was protecting them from the corrupting influence of paranoid Commonwealth politics.” Damien looked at Dietrich, “And from us.”
Dietrich nodded then shrugged apologetically surprised at Damien's levelheadedness. “Their safety was paramount for Archduke Peter. Their value to Commonwealth depended on their survival and Peter wanted them away from Commonwealth nobility and from the schemes and machinations that resulted in Arthur's death.”
“So my sister was correct. What else are you keeping from us you scheming bastard?” Damien leveled his gaze, suddenly hard and cold as ice, at the Sørensen house master.
Dietrich narrowed his brow, keeping his temper in check. “You will support Kristoffer as he takes the throne. You shall back his claim and obey his orders as if they came from your father or your brother. That is the end of the matter.”
He heaved himself to his feet and collected his sword. He clipped it to the titanium chain that hung from his belt then took hold of his cane. “Our agents have been alerted to our decision and will be bringing Kristoffer to Magdeborg for the funeral and coronation. You will both be in attendance.”
Damien stood as Dietrich turned to leave, but if he had anything to say, he kept it to himself. Salena blocked his path. “You cannot push aside our claims so easily. We have dedicated our lives to the preservation of the realm and you reject us like petty commoners. Both of us command more power than you ever will, old man. You risk much by this underhanded plot of yours.”
“You risk too much opposing me,” Dietrich snapped back then shoved past her. “I do not take lightly to threats nor do I make idle ones. There are plenty of skeletons in both of your closets that would damn you eternally if you interfere. I am not the weak old man you believe I've become.”
Lord Dietrich Sørensen left the two siblings, closing the door loudly behind him.
Alos had stepped from the observation room. His massive arms were crossed over his chest and his huge frame made his head appear to brush the ceiling, but his glare made his opinion very clear. Dietrich ignored the Azuren and headed for his ship.
I have never heard of an Azuren being caught by surprise before, he thought. A bit like seeing a fish try to swim through space. I hope they do not ever want to see me try the same feat. The results would likely be the same.
Kristoffer
Captain of the MacCleod
14 February, 23,423
Garda Station, Goteborg, Magdeborg Commonwealth
______________
“There, that's the ship,” Kristoffer said pointing at the heavy freighter burning into the docking bay. It was an ugly craft that still held elements of blocky ship designs popular two centuries ago. Chris and his first officer Nickalaus watched the boxy ship fired its maneuvering thrusters fiercely as it struggled to line up with the docking collars from the relative safety of a glass-enclosed walkway. The operators hesitated as the ship swayed significantly just in front of the berth, unsure if they should risk moving too soon and damaging the ship or the hangar. Chris cringed as the operator missed the connectors on the ship for the third time. His Sub-Epidermal Signal Enhancer tattoos fluctuated anxiously in color and intensity as the ship lurched and buffeted against the docking collar.
“Amateur pilot,” Nick observed bitterly.
The ship bore the markings of some tiny transportation company probably on the employ of the local noble Evers family to move weapons and material the station to the planet. Garda Station orbited Goteborg's third and only habitable planet and was a major hub for a significant portion of the traffic coming into and leaving the system. As a duchy capital, Lord General Damien Sten felt compelled to protect the system at all costs and based his entire force here to do so. Lord Damien's ships maintained a steady patrol across the system, watching for the Dominion invasion they expected at any moment. Some of his ships were docked in the station undergoing repairs or refits and hundreds of Commonwealth soldiers, from the lowest squires and infantrymen to mighty knights and nobles were often spotted on the station. They represented over a dozen different houses in a pageantry of colors and sigils who donated troops to the cause.
The operator desperately swung the connec
tors around again as the ship lurched up and made hard contact then locked into the berth. The collars descended around the ship like a giant claw then a gangway extended to lock onto the ship's exit hatch and cycle the air.
“Let's go see her,” Chris said, clapping Nick on the shoulder. Nick nodded hesitantly and followed his captain towards the receiving area.
Noticing Nick's hesitation he added, “You haven't heard from her in four years, huh?”
Nick wiped a hand through his auburn hair and exhaled sharply. His SESE tattoos fluttered. “No. Not a word.”
Nick had been silent on the sudden departure of Chris' sister for years. They had shared a close relationship once, but after their studies at the university had come to a close, they'd parted ways.
After a pause, Nick asked, “Do you think it's true what she told you?”
“What do you mean?” Chris asked as they shoved past spacers and techs.
“About where she's been. Leading groups of Averi pilgrims through the Precursor ruins? After everything she's accomplished at the university, she's a tour guide?”
“I'm not sure if I'd use that term to her face, but that's what she said she's been doing,” Chris said shrugging.
I'm not sure if I believe her either, he admitted only to himself. Her messages had been few and far between and she refused to go into any real detail regarding her work. He knew she explored the ruins that dotted worlds across human space. Some were vast, ancient cities, others were old research stations or religious structures. Others were as insignificant as tiny farms or recycling centers. All of them attracted the devout as tourists. They also attracted those who tried to find valuable artifacts in the ruins, for which a lucrative black market had formed. If that's what Claire wanted to do, that was fine with him.
Schism of Blood and Stone (The Starfield Theory Book 1) Page 2
