John Thompson disappeared as soon as their ship touched the soil of Haembrecht. When Micah and Ferrel grew concerned, Lacy Blue told them not to worry and that Thompson would appear for his ceremony.
That particular ceremony, for Thompson and Micah alike, would answer most of the questions buzzing around inside Micah's head, or so promised Ferrel. After the initial Moot session, it confused Micah that the Crown citizenry treated him like a Brightcrown. Karr and Blue explained it.
"But you are of House Brightcrown, Lord Micah," said Blue simply.
Another thing that bothered him. Lord Micah?!
"Aye and truth," said Karr, "When Prince Gunter swore the Brightcrown Oath to you and mingled your blood, he adopted you into his family and his House."
"Indeed," said Blue, "Not only that, Lord Micah. Since Piotr won't tell you, I shall. Prince Gunter is noble blood of House Brightcrown but also Royal Blood of the Crown. That puts you in direct line to the Crown, albeit not as closely as Prince Gunter."
"What?!"
"Indeed so, Lady Blue," said another voice.
Reginald Fyrelm joined them then. Up close he was nothing more than an older version of his son. He had the same look, the same manner, the same twinkle to his eye and certainly the same humor.
"Sir Piotr," said Fyrelm, "Lord Micah. Greetings to you all."
They gave the Laird honor due, albeit uncertainly on Micah's part.
"Men of integrity, strength and honor are always welcome into the blood of House Brightcrown," said Fyrelm, "Gunter has spoken much of you, my new son. His words did nothing, however, but confirm my conviction that he indeed did the right thing. He tells me that you have served the League with honor and distinction."
"As has he, my Laird," said Micah. Then, lowering his voice, "For pure truth, sir, he works at it quite often!"
That elicited a laugh. Something, Fyrelm's ancient butler informed Micah, that was far to infrequent until now.
"He also informs me that your parents will soon be leaving their home world. Caustik, is it?"
"Yes sir." Micah's expression fell. "As soon as I can convince them. They're stubborn."
"Heh. In that case, my son, you must welcome them to their new home here! I hope your brother will visit us as well. Gunter says he has a deft touch with computers. I suppose if we can handle Gunter, we can handle him."
"I'll make certain he's ready," said Ferrel, who had joined them then.
***
Micah fidgeted in his unfamiliar formal finery. The day of the ceremony arrived, along with Micah's Brightcrown uniform. It fit him perfectly but Osbury still found the smallest of details that needed one final touch.
Thompson showed up a few hours earlier, tired beyond belief but more relaxed than Micah had seen him since before they left Azure. He brought a group of McReelys with him, or they him, and Kidwell smiled at several of them.
The ceremony itself was short and simple, albeit conducted in a large hall full of people garbed as splendidly as Micah and Thompson. Nor were all of them Brightcrowns! Laird Edders and Laird McReely joined Fyrelm at the head of the hall and each of them had numerous of their House members present.
Laird Fyrelm confirmed his son's actions and welcomed Micah again to his family. He and Thompson both swore fealty on the hilt of a truly ancient sword. Then, reluctantly, Kidwell stepped forward at the behest of Savn Laird McReely. She swore fealty then knelt before him and he dubbed her into McReely's House Knights.
What happened next amazed Micah for weeks to come! Luther Laird Edders called Ionoski forth and bestowed on him an honorary knighthood. Micah knew Ted would refuse anything more, what amazed him was how he managed to make that refusal stick!
Then the celebration began!
***
"It's quite simple, my brother," said Ferrel over lunch the next day.
Micah and most of the others slept through breakfast; an act that scandalized them more so than any of House Brightcrown. The three Houses had had little enough to celebrate and, by Micah, they made up for the fact in grand style! When Micah finally roused himself and showered, most of the others in the House had returned to their ordinary routine. This was the first time Micah had to speak to Ferrel in relative privacy.
"You gave me back my family," continued Ferrel, "That's a debt I can never repay so I've done my best to pay it forward. Besides, it's as Father said. Our House will always welcome men and women of honor and integrity, and that's you down to your bones!"
"Full truth and no blather that," said Thompson, "Sergeant Stone, I promise you I will not ask any of the three of you about Protocol again!"
Ferrel laughed at that. In addition to his own adoption into Brightcrown, Thompson received an honorary commission into the Elder Guards with a guaranteed position teaching at their flight academy, should he ever desire it. Judging from the sizzling looks one of the McReely master pilots, a gorgeous lady with a feisty manner, gave him frequently, Micah suspected Thompson would find his way back to the Crown as often as he could!
Lairds Fyrelm, Edders and McReely joined them then, each much less formal than the day before.
"Did they tell you about your wedding yet, Micah," asked Kidwell impishly.
"Nay, Lady Vera," smiled Fyrelm, "I thought it best not to overwhelm him."
Micah looked at him quizzically.
"It is a duty of nobility," explained Fyrelm, "and a responsibility that can weigh heavily. The ordinary folk look up to us in times of trouble and times of fear. Regardless of our own feelings, we must care for them and theirs. We must give them courage and strength and the assurance that, no matter how dire the circumstance, we shall all fight for them and with them so long as there is breath in our bodies."
"Slib, sir," said Micah, "But what does that have to do with my wedding?"
"Why, everything, my boy! When news of this horrible affair reaches the streets it will shock our folk to their very cores! Even though the worst is past, hard times are yet to come. Many will leave House Varl and seek fealty elsewhere and many more may face uncomfortable times ere things improve.
"Weddings, my new son, are one of the few things that bring unabated joy and happiness to all who witness them, especially when they involve royalty. Since Gunter does not seem inclined to oblige, the duty falls to you. You must give the folk of the Crown Worlds a wedding to lighten the heaviest burden and warm the most worried heart! Never fear, though, we shall handle the matter splendidly when the time comes."
From the twinkle in Fyrelm's eye, and that of his son, Micah didn't know just how much of that to believe! He suspected Kidwell too, but he knew he'd never prove any of them.
***
After another week on Haembrect, Micah, Kidwell, Ionoski and Thompson left for Faircoast, and thence back to Azure. It surprised Micah that Ferrel joined them.
"Of course I'm going," exclaimed Ferrel, "I may have my family back, and thank you again, my brother, but I also have a duty to the League. Besides, as I've said before, Sergeant Stone, since I met you my life has had a great deal more excitement than boredom! I'm not giving that up!"
Once they left Faircoast, Ionoski reasserted his authority by demanding reports from each of them. He included Thompson, which made the pilot very nervous.
"Because you were a part of this mission, Commander Thompson" said Ionoski calmly, "Even though you did not have written orders."
"I understand, sir."
"I also suggest you complete your required rotations as quickly and as well as you can," continued Ionoski, "Because given the talents you displayed, and some mild influence your friends might exert, I cannot rule out a transfer to Protocol in your future."
"Yes sir," said Thompson weakly, "I'll do my best, sir."
"As for myself," said Ferrel, who now would not answer to his true names, no matter how hard Kidwell or Thompson tried, "I am looking forward to a pleasant meal for six at Irving's Evening Delight. I shall treat."
"Six," asked Micah.
"Six,
" confirmed Ferrel, "Because I, for one, cannot wait to see how you will explain to lovely Jennifer how she is to marry into royalty!"
The others laughed and spoke jovially on that, but not Micah. How would he explain it?
Chapter 21. Epilogue
The greenish sun of XXIV-2109-45-c, known to those who lived there as Picto, stood an hour before its peak for the day. Ken Tobart walked deliberately up the stairs leading to the administrative complex secondary offices building. Home to Caesar's 14,257th Legions, Picto's military complex covered a huge area with hundreds of buildings both short and tall, and all laid out with careful geometric precision. Caesar's citizens and soldiers went about their daily jobs and duties with purpose and order and blessedly little extraneous noise or conversation.
Though troubled, Tobart took comfort in the straight lines and sharp angles around him. He'd spent too long away from home and it felt good to breathe its air once more. He nodded to several people he knew, but only that. Neither he nor they had need to speak and he relished that they all knew it.
"Citizen Tobart," said Corvus Suetonius, clerical assistant to Tobart's commander, "He is expecting you. Hail Caesar!"
"Greetings, Corvus. Hail Caesar!"
Tobart walked through the doorway into a large office with a smaller desk than it should have. So many League fools attached importance to the size of the desk they had. Ridiculous! Vibius Rutilius Aquilinius had a desk exactly sized to his needs and it had no importance attached to it whatsoever. Importance came from the man seated there examining a datapad.
"Kenneth Tobart," said Aquilinius, "Hail Caesar!"
"Hail Caesar!"
Aquilinius rose and stepped around his desk to give Tobart a quick handclasp and embrace. Then he took his seat and indicated one for Tobart.
"I've read your report," said Aquilinius.
"My mission failed, Vibius," said Tobart, "I allowed the fool Fadding to rush our schedule. It seems the League noticed the increase in defective parts and sent agents to investigate. I should have kept the production reasonable but I did not. I accept full responsibility for the failure. I ask that you show consideration for the members of my team. The blame is fully mine and they followed my orders, as they should have."
Aquilinius stayed silent a long time as he examined the data on his 'pad.
"Your mission did fail," he said, "but that was not unexpected. I tell you this now as I did not before because it is now permitted that you know it. I and others have watched your advancement most carefully, Kenneth. More than once you had the opportunity to sacrifice another for your own mistakes, yet you did not."
"Because the errors were mine, Vibius. I made no excuse then nor do I now. I am as quick to claim my successes as well."
Now Aquilinius smiled. "You speak truly, and a truth all to rare in others who have attained your position. You also understate your accomplishment, and many suspect a false humility that conceals the poisoned blade meant for their back."
"Do you think that, Vibius?"
"No, my friend. I know you are entirely as you seem. Your overall mission might have failed, but the League will waste vast amounts of money and resources repairing the damage you did. Even the smallest victory is still a victory, Kenneth, and the patient man must learn to accept those as such."
"Am I to be punished?"
Now Aquilinius laughed.
"No, Citizen Tobart, your only punishment will be as it has before. The punishment for accomplishment is greater expectation."
Aquilinius slid a 'pad across his desk. After Tobart gave his retinals the display cleared and he began reading. A smile slowly crept across his face as he did.
"I trust, then," said Aquilinius, "that you have no objection to this assignment?"
***
"Ructus foedus," exclaimed Mooke as he read, "We fail and he assigns you this?!"
"They did not expect us to succeed," said Kenjai, "I suspected as much, Ken."
"And said as much," added Mooke, "More than a few times. You thought they wanted a reason to execute us."
"Peace," said Tobart, unable to help his smile, "Caesar needs no reason, my friends. We were given the assignment in order to do what damage we could. To cost the bastard League its gold and its lives. As Vibius Rutilius said, small success is still success. We must accept that. I am quite happy not to be awaiting... bad things."
"We as well," said Kenjai.
"Can we do this," asked Mooke.
"We can and we will," said Tobart, "Besides Fadding, we made friends within the Crown. They will be more dangerous to touch than engine plasma, for now. Later, though, is a different matter entirely. Caesar has given us much to work with. Most of all, time."
"This is true," said Kenjai, "but he has also given us a planet to eat without sauce!"
"Then we shall make our sauce," said Tobart, "This... This is much more to my liking! Tell me, Adri, do you still have your taste for hologames?"
"I do," said Mooke nervously. He didn't like others to know his fondness.
"Good," said Tobart, "At first we will wrap Caesar's surprise in a game. A splatgame, perhaps, or yet another Stratagem clone. We will develop it well outside the League, pristine, and let it migrate inward. Make it easy to copy, Adri, and simple to learn."
"I can do that," said Mooke, "but how will we deploy the... dirty... version?"
"Make it easy to copy," repeated Tobart, "but leave a deep, subtle hook. One with prongs only for us. A hidden key with an invisible hole that will open to our touch only. Then, when the game takes hold, we shall... upgrade it."
Mooke fell silent as he began thinking. Kenjai shared Tobart's smile.
"It will work," said Mooke, "I'll design its AI genetics to be receptive and... hungry. Hungry with a need only our fractal will fill!"
"It will work," said Tobart, "We will make it so!"
Hail Caesar!
* * * The End * * *
Chapter X: Afterword
Thanks for reading my book! I hope you enjoyed it. If so please consider giving me a review at the retailer where you purchased it.
If you're interested in more information concerning the League please check out my blog and Facebook pages. In addition to notes about writing, life and programming you will find data about the League, its Guilds and general comments on an average citizen's life there. These were kindly provided by Dr. Ferdinand Kincaid, a noted and well-published League archivist and member of the Artisan's Guild.
In addition to writing books I'm also an open-source Java developer. My magnum opus in this world is Matt's MathTools, a Java application designed to help design and format mathematical things for written (or HTML-based) tests or worksheets. If you find that interesting please visit the site and grab the software. Several tutorials are provided and all of it is FREE!
About the Author
James Matthew Cox, Jr. was born in Texarkana, Arkansas and he grew up on a farm seven miles outside of it. His mother made sure he learned to enjoy reading at an early age and his father made sure he learned to enjoy science fiction, also at an early age. Growing up, his heroes had names like Asimov, Bradbury, Clarke and (E.E.) Smith.
After graduating high school James completed a Bachelor's degree in Computer Science and a Master's degree in Mathematics. He then spent many years as a college math and computer instructor. His writing career began in junior high school and, after many years of practice, he finally decided to do something about it.
Blog: http://themoldyripegrape.wordpress.com/
Facebook Book Page: https://www.facebook.com/NewStarsTradeLeagueArchive
Facebook Personal: https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100005061257303
Twitter: @moldyripegrape
Matt's MathTools: http://www.sourceforge.net/projects/mattsmathtools
Cover Artist: http://www.viladesign.net
Chapter Y: Preview
This is an excerpt from my next book, working title Election Day. Please enjoy it!
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Micah danced with little attention to his partner. He focused most of his concentration on the three men who had been with them since the restaurant. At the first bar he thought it no more than coincidence. Likewise the club across the street. But the same three men appeared at the next club, the bar after that, and now here. The current song ended and Manselli wove toward the back of the room.
"Looey-poo," she slurred, "Don't leave, sweetling."
Micah made his own way to the 'fresher. Then, safely ensconced in a stall, he activated his mini-garble and 'commed Ferrel. Fortunately when Ferrel answered he looked fully awake.
"Scan Reuben," said Micah quickly, "We're at NasTastique. Three targets."
"Acknowledge," said Ferrel instantly, "Twenty-five at most."
***
Seventeen of Ferrel's twenty-five minutes passed when he and Kidwell entered the club. Micah recognized them but no one else would. After one song they managed to dance themselves close enough to Micah. Micah cut his eyes toward the unwelcome threesome and, after quarter-trip around the floor, Kidwell acknowledged. Then she and Ferrel danced away.
"Hey doll," said Micah, after the next song, "I'm drying out. Seriously."
"Shay no more," bubbled Manselli, "I was thinking the thame shing. Same thing. Sobrella is just up the shtreeet."
"Polar, babe. Let's travel."
As Micah guided Manselli up the street he kept a cautious eye backward. Two of the men did a credible job shadowing them but the absence of the third man bothered Micah. Almost within sight of Sobrella Micah found his answer.
"Move, flopper. Now!" The third man stepped out of an alleyway and pointed something at Micah.
Micah took a bare instant to consider his options. He felt sure the man held a blaster but there wasn't quite enough light to be certain.
"Wha... What ish it?"
Micah knew he could take the man, ordinarily, but Manselli now leaned heavily on him.
The Burning Crown (Stone Blade Book 4) Page 26
