Schism of Blood and Stone (The Starfield Theory Book 1)

by Brian Frederico

  One of these gardens had been built centuries earlier near the Sten palace, probably by some existential Sørensen, though Magnus had avoided it. According to Azuren law, it shouldn't have existed, but the Sten family had been known to snub their noses at the Azuren from time to time. Training regimens, military operations and other political duties had distracted his attention elsewhere for the last few weeks. But Kendra Mason had specifically requested that he meet her here. At first, Magnus hesitated, wondering what his soldiers would think if they knew he was traipsing around a garden, but then relented. He was still fostering his relationship with Kendra so if she wanted to meet him here then so be it.

  He stepped onto the first of the stone blocks, indicating the beginning of the path. He tried to remember what the book had told him. The path was like a journey. He would begin in one place, end in another and, somewhere in the middle, experience an epiphany or a change in character. At least that's what the book claimed. I wonder if that's what Kendra has in mind. Has she sensed my hesitation?

  He walked along the path, passing brilliant plants and huge blooming flowers. The dirt around them had been carefully raked to represent waves or were they rays of sunlight? He passed koi ponds where huge fish swam lazily. He regarded them with a kind of detached interest. They regarded him not at all.

  He walked across a stone bridge and saw her sitting in a small clearing on a stone bench. She was swirling a picked flower in her fingers, blinking softly and studying its contours and form. He remembered suddenly the last time they met when she said she spent much of her studies on Aarhus' gardens. Perhaps she simply felt comfortable here.

  She wore a conservative purple dress and a black blouse, the colors of House Mason. If mother gets her way, and she will, she'll be wearing gold and blue shortly.

  Magnus paused on the bridge, one hand on the rail the other at his side. Normally it would have resting on the hilt of a sword or the grip of a side arm, but he thought carrying weapons here might defeat the purpose of the garden. He did, however, insist on the military uniform. It was as much a part of his persona as anything else. Like the garden, the military had rules, procedures and expectations and even practiced war as a sort of art.

  He took a breath then walked towards her. The motion caught her eye an she looked up and smiled at him. “Good evening, Magnus,” she said sweetly.

  “Evening,” he said awkwardly. It hadn't quiet reached that point where he felt she was a part of his inner circle. He scoffed at himself. Inner circles were for shadowy politicians and military officers. She was neither. But what was she exactly? What role did Salena intend for her to play?

  “I haven't seen you in a while,” she said. “Have you been busy?”

  Magnus nodded, then took a seat next to her. “We've been trying to root out the last of the Sørensens. I've been getting out to the field when I can, usually when mother is busy. They've been raiding supply lines, taking weapons and ammunition and generally being a nuisance. Casualties haven't been high, but they're noticeable. Thankfully they have not targeted the civilian population.”

  “Oh,” she said, placing the flower in her lap. “That's good. Killing serves no purpose but that of Amrah's sins. At least that's what my teacher had me learn.”

  “My mother is worried that it will get worse. She will let me go into the field again to track them down,” Magnus said showing a degree of warmth at Kendra's chill. She looked distracted.

  Kendra shrugged, seemed uncomfortable with the subject, then promptly changed it. “I spoke with her the other day. We chatted.”

  Magnus frowned. Salena didn't just chit chat, especially not with her future daughter-in-law. She was shaping her for something.

  “What did you two talk about?” He asked, fishing for information. Some instinct of his immediately wondered if Salena had carefully instructed, or just implied, that Kendra should share the contents of their conversation. Or maybe she knew she would anyway.

  “Lots of things,” she began, looking at him with those beautiful eyes. “You were right. She wants to push up the wedding.”

  “Two weeks is too soon,” Magnus muttered then blushed. “I didn't mean-”

  “I know. It's okay to be afraid, Magnus,” she said. “I am.”

  “Of what?”

  She took a deep breath. “Ever since I was a girl, it was drilled into my head that I was to marry a prince. This was my purpose one day and now that day is coming sooner than I ever believed. What will happen to me afterward? Will I have served my purpose and let out to pasture? What if I can't do what's expected of me? What if I fail? What if, I don't know, what if one of us is killed? You're the next Archduke of the Commonwealth and that means I'm the next Archduchess. Back on Aarhus it was hard to think about that; it seemed so far away, you know? But now that I'm here in the palace, in the gardens, it's suddenly hit home. And I'm afraid,” she said.

  Magnus felt a pang of regret in his gut. She wasn't here to make a statement, to challenge him or House Sten. She did not have a political agenda, she was afraid like any other sane person might be. She looked into the future, which might have been frightening enough in itself, but all she saw was fog. Maybe Archduke Peter's funeral was still fresh in her mind. She was here looking for a friend, someone with whom she could share her fears. Normally she might have gone to Cassandra, but she choose instead to find him.

  Magnus slowly put an arm around her shoulders and she sank into him. Her head rested on his chest.

  Magnus debated what to say. Was she looking for sympathy or honesty? Did she need his help, or just someone to vent at? Magnus opened and closed his mouth several times, then, finally: “I know this is new to you. It's new to me as well. Once we are married things will settle down. You will be the Archduchess and whatever you do will be solid gold. That's how it works. The people will love their duchess.”

  “But what then? What if they don't? What if they hate me, what will I do?”

  “You will be expected to show complete loyalty to the house and to the Commonwealth. You will appear by my side at state dinners, Conclave assemblies and the like. I guarantee that you will not simply be used as a factory to churn out heirs, though I guess that will be expected, too. You, like me, were groomed for this position for the last twenty-five years. You might have been intended as a gift for Arthur Sten and that family, but they're long gone. You won't be tossed aside like Ciara Sten was. Things will be different now. I can promise you that.”

  Kendra sighed, but ceased shuddering. “What if I screw this up?”

  “I won't let that happen. You come from one of the most powerful families in the Commonwealth. You have the best education money can buy, and, what's more, you have a good head on your shoulders. You won't commit the same mistakes made by those of lesser character,” Magnus said. “You'll be just fine.”

  “I hope so,” Kendra said recovering. She sat up, composed herself and sighed. “Walk with me?”

  She stood and offered her hand. Magnus smiled and took it gently. They strolled through the gardens for a few moments silently. She felt safe here. They passed through the warm night, arm in arm. Magnus watched her curiously.

  Before Magnus could stop himself, he asked, “What do you want for yourself?”

  Kendra blinked. She'd never been asked that question before.

  She looked away, embarrassed. “I wanted to make my parents happy.”

  “But what do you want?”

  She sighed deeply, thinking. “I think-” She paused and shook her head. “It's stupid.”

  “No,” Magnus insisted. “What?”

  She hesitated. “I just wanted to make it on my own. I've lived off my parents for years, totally reliant on them. And I think they want me to be totally reliant on you. I feel trapped and I don't like it. How am I supposed to be myself?”

  Magnus nodded. “I think I know what you mean.”

  “Do you? A great general, a warrior, a true nobleman?”

  Magnus cleared his th
roat. “I didn't choose all that voluntarily. I am what I am because I was born into this culture. It wasn't merit, but blood. If it weren't for that I'd be nothing.”

  “Then what are we supposed to do if our entire lives are based on the orders of others?” She asked.

  Magnus was silent for a while as they walked across another bridge and around a bend in the path. Neither of us got to where we are because of our own individual merits. She's afraid she's not worthy of the position she inherited, Magnus realized. And so am I.

  “I don't know. I think we just have to do the best we can to be worthy of who we are.”

  Kendra pulled him closer and nodded. “I think I can do that. I want to be a part of your family and I want to make the Commonwealth great as it once was.”

  “That's all we can ever ask of you,” Magnus said. “One day, it will be our turn to rule. We can shape ourselves and our Commonwealth into anything we want.”

  Anna

  31 March, 23,423

  Magdeborg, Magdeborg Commonwealth

  ______________

  Anna gently stroked Rebecca's hair as the car bounced along the dirt road. She'd fallen asleep a while ago and Anna couldn't blame her. A few hours ago, she'd been awakened early in the morning and tossed in a car without any forewarning. Anna found the swaying of the vehicle hypnagogic herself, but she was more interested in where LK was taking them than in finding elusive sleep. He refused to reveal the location in the bar, afraid that Salena might have agents watching them.

  Quickly, the assembled Starfield Theorists had tossed Filipov in the back of a car, hooded and drugged. Anna, Rebecca, LK and another Theorist called only Siren took the other car. They split up, agreeing that they would attract less attention alone than as a convoy. Anna couldn't help but notice the trunks of each car were loaded with weapons and explosives. She wondered if they might be preparing for some sort of operation.

  The city was still quiet at that hour. Though they passed several police vehicles, but they were left alone. LK was doing his best to avoid checkpoints without looking like he was avoiding checkpoints. Normally she might have been able to utilize her contacts and get through them without any trouble, but that was too dangerous now. Siren had several marked maps in her hands, quietly directing LK through the city. They went down more side streets than Anna even knew existed. Somehow, he managed to get out of the city without attracting attention.

  Anna suddenly remembered driving this route when she took Damien to see Conrad. She'd been trying her best to not think of him these few weeks. She heard his speech at the funeral then watched Sten House Guardsmen attack the Teton-Sten warriors. Several people had been killed in the fire fight, both soldiers and civilians. Damien's declaration of a legitimate heir to the throne had sent shock waves across the entire Commonwealth, even more so than his violent escape. Salena and her thugs had done their best to prevent the spread of subversive information, but the Starfield Theorists had contacts. They could not suppress the video of protests across the Commonwealth worlds, even the ones still loyal to the Tetons.

  Even though the planet was beginning to question Salena's legitimacy, she was not done with her machinations. Swiftly, she declared the marriage of Magnus to the heir of House Mason. The wedding would be next month. The announcement calmed the public and ended the loudest protests as they trumped out Kendra Mason. She was beautiful, intelligent and charismatic, an instant favorite. She had been wise not to use military force against the angry populace and adopt a strategy that Damien might have even considered. Perhaps she'd finally taken a page out of his handbook.

  Yet, the weeks had not gone bloodless. So far, the resistance had limited their attacks against House Teton-Sten directly, bombing military convoys and assassinating minor plenipotentiaries. They'd left local police and even the Teton-Sten allies alone, hoping to isolate the ruling family. They were hoping to provoke a violent response, but so far Salena had been unwilling to play that game. Her limited strikes were always conducted by Magnus against confirmed resistance targets. Civilian casualties had been virtually nonexistent on either side. Magnus was even taking on a more active role in governance as be became more comfortable with his station and duties. In a few neighborhoods, the people actually cheered his troops as they marched off to attack a target. Anna turned away from those displays of affection, real or fake as they may have been.

  When LK finally turned off an exit to enter the suburbs, he broke the reticent atmosphere of the vehicle. “We seem to be in the clear. It won't be too much further now.”

  “Where are we going?”

  LK was silent for another minute. “Out to a resistance outpost.”

  “Are you crazy? You can't take us there,” Anna hissed. “Salena is actively hunting and hitting resistance targets. And she's looking for us, remember?”

  “You'll be safe there for now. They will have contacts that might be able to get you and the girl off the planet,” LK said. “Besides, a military camp is going to be safer for you than a bar that's for sure.”

  LK checked his surroundings at every turn, looking for anyone who might try to stop him. The sun was just coming up and people would be on their way to work shortly. He was probably trying to blend in with the local traffic.

  “And we need a place to keep Filipov. I'll need the proper equipment to extract something from him,” he added.

  “I don't exactly approve of torture, LK. Indexing is illegal for a reason.”

  “I don't exactly need your permission,” he snapped back. “We are far too exposed in the city and we need some help. Filipov has a wealth of information on Salena's command and control functions as well as the run down on Magnus' troops. We need him to talk. He doesn't feel pain, remember? So we need more effective means of interrogation.”

  Anna glared at LK, angry at his attitude. He may have been out of the intelligence field for the last few years, but his mind was still conditioned to think in such terms. She decided not to pursue the matter. He was likely tired, but Anna also suspected she detected something she hadn't seen in LK before. Something was different. Usually he was so stoic and cautious, but his hurried attitude and agitation betrayed his latent fear, but she shouldn't be surprised. Long before LK ended up playing poker in a bar he was one of House Mason's feared intelligence operatives. His training and conditioning were as good if not better than Filipov's, but psychological torture could only be so effective. Filipov likely figured out by now that LK was dangerous and had probably been thinking how to block his attempts to break him. Fortunately, he was drugged which gave him less time to think and kept him quiet.

  LK turned onto a few different back roads, winding his way through the hills and into the countryside. Anna had rarely been out here before. When she was just a child, her parents occasionally took her out for a day of relaxation in the sun. Sometimes a few of her cousins and friends would join her. She had so little time these days for that kind of leisure. She'd wanted to take Rebecca out here so many times before to share with her, but the pressing matters of the Conclave had always trumped her desires.

  Sometimes she'd imagine what it would have been like to have a real family like she had when growing up. She would imagine she and the father figure sitting on the hill watching Rebecca run around below, chasing butterflies or engaging in some make believe adventure. Sometimes the father figure was Damien sometimes it was someone else, sometimes someone just as made up as the invisible guests at Rebecca's tea parties. In the end, she always preferred the visions with Damien as far fetched as they were.

  She went back to stroking Rebecca's hair. It was Sten hair, red-blond and silky. She stirred slightly. Anna hushed her.

  She wasn't sure how Rebecca would handle being in a military camp. She doubted that the soldiers there would appreciate having a ten-year-old on base and wondered if the guns would disturb her. More importantly, what would happen if Magnus and his goons came calling? Would they kill the women, too? What if they became Salena's prisoners? Wou
ld they be accorded ransom or be held hostage? Would she actually use them to lure Damien back to Magdeborg and finish him off?

  She swallowed back tears and the fear that was rising in her gut. LK would protect them, she knew that much. The resistance movement was mostly comprised of House Sørensen and a few of the militia units that defected. They might be wary of a group of Starfield Theorists seeking refuge with them.

  The enemy of my enemy is my friend, Anna thought. They will welcome us, especially if we're bringing weapons and our own personal hatred for Salena. Bringing Filipov to them will be a nice incentive to treat us nicely. The information he has will help them more than it'll help us.

  Anna leaned up from her seat when LK applied the breaks and brought the car to a halt. Just ahead, several military vehicles were blocking the road. Two of them were armored jeeps with heavy machine guns in a roof turret manned by very large troopers. The center vehicle was a light tank with its main gun pointed directly at the car. Other soldiers pointing weapons in their direction stood behind the tank using its chassis to shield themselves.

  “Who are they?” Anna asked.

  “Get your hands up and get out of the car,” LK muttered.