“I’ve arranged for a fitting to arrange proper clothes for you, before you enter the main dining hall,” I said to smooth the way and distract Akantha from her little maid. “The tailor is standing by as we speak.” I held up a hand against a protest that hadn’t come, “However, if it's somehow inappropriate for him to be present and attend to the measurements himself, there are all these Maids to assist you,” I said, gesturing to the gaggle of surrounding women. The last thing I needed was more drama because I’d sent a man to measure her for clothes.
The impromptu and suddenly designated maids were happily encouraging her in the right direction, and my Lady looked sorely tempted.
I suspected that no women could resist the idea of a completely new wardrobe, especially not one at someone else’s expense, and it looked like I was right.
Counting my lucky stars, I beat a hasty retreat and shut the door to the main dining area behind me. I wanted to forestall anything she chose to bring up that would ruin the suddenly positive mood.
I then spent the next half hour working on a presentation. I culled the historical archives for information and footage, then I assembled a montage of pictures and main events, as well as video clippings of the most famous and infamous former wielders of the vibro-blade. I started with the founder and then played up the bad ends many Montagne wielders came to emphasizing the bizarre and outrageous ends many of my ancestors came to, whether or not they had the sword in their possession at the time of their deaths, and then went on to emphasize with seriousness all the non-Montagne who had done well for themselves while wielding it.
I was actually surprised at just how often the sword was present during some of the most pivotal events in early Caprian history. It wasn’t always present, but it was there just often enough that a person like myself, who knew about the sword but hadn’t actively studied it in depth, was surprised at how much I learned I didn’t know about it before.
One thing was clear. The native ladies on Tracto VI had this whole sword fetish thing going on. I figured when the time was right, I’d play the montage with my voiceover as a distraction and make good my escape.
Chapter 30: The Banquet
When she came walking into the main mess hall, I could tell I had taken her by surprise. She had known something was up, but I think the tearful Prometheans lined up all along her route to the main table and thanking her for finding them a place to stay took her off guard.
I thought the little children scattered in alongside their parents was a nice touch. Which was why I’d put the families there in the first place.
Everyone wanted to shake her hand. Not a custom of her people, judging from the awkwardness on her hand grip. The mechanical translator was working overtime trying to translate the torrent of gratitude and well wishes. With the Promethean women trailing along behind her (also in new clothing I noticed, with gritted teeth hidden behind a smile) she looked like a sovereign being welcomed by her people.
While this was the stage I had deliberately set in order to make her feel obligated to help me, I was surprised at the simple yet elegant cut of her clothing. I didn’t recognize the style, so I figured it must be of native design. The cape trailing behind her was a dark gunmetal grey on the inside, but a vibrant dark blue on the outside and she was wearing a practical, yet well designed set of black trouser pants, with a draw string tied in an elegant knot work in the middle where a zipper, button or magnetic clamp would have been. The shirt was long sleeved with drawstrings running along the arms, and a neckline that climbed all the way up to just under her chin, with these delicate little silver lines of scroll work running up and down the neck onto the shoulders. In the middle of the red shirt was embroidered the symbol of a dark thorn on a blue field.
The Maids were wearing some kind of Promethean gown, in sky blue and white striped colors, and they were also sporting the same dark blue cape, but their capes lacked the grey inner lining.
As soon as she was through the crowd and ascending the steps to the small raised platform where myself and my officers were waiting, I made my move and went to meet her at the top of the stairs.
Meeting her eyes while she was still on her way up, I was once again the recipient of a gaze that stared right through me, one that instantly judged and found me wanting.
Too deep to change course at this point, I dramatically brought the sword into her view and flourished it before kneeling to present it to her hilt first. Fortunately, it was in a reinforced sheath with V shaped strips of Duralloy inserted over the edges from the inside, so if she took it into her head to activate the blade and cut me down, I’d have a few moments to beat a hasty retreat while she was busy freeing the blade.
Behind me, the ship’s officers stood and saluted, all except for the irascible Mr. Spalding who had begged off of the event entirely, claiming some sort of engineering crisis. I didn’t believe him at the time and thought less of the excuse now. I thought I’d even spotted him somewhere in the vicinity of the main doors once or twice but he wasn’t really important right at the moment.
What was important was the way the ice maiden, Lady Adonia Akantha Zosime, stopped on the way up the stairs. I caught her starting to look around, hand creeping up to cover her mouth and, dare I think it, but I do believe I detected a hint of a blush. Then reality reasserted itself and she straightened, giving me a cool look that said as clearly as anything, I was still found very much wanting.
She came to the last step and stopped on the platform, looming over me. I really hated that. I know I was on bended knee, but still, it was the principle of the thing. A woman just shouldn’t be that much taller than me.
She seemed to be waiting for something, but I honestly didn’t have a clue what she wanted.
The pause dragged one. I was going to have to say something. I thought it wise to begin with the simplest thing first.
“If you would take the sword, Lady Akantha,” I said. If she didn’t follow my script, things could go off the rails very quickly.
“Why should I,” she said in a ringing voice, leaving me kneeling at her feet. The translator echoed her words, which she was saying in our shared tongue, throughout the chamber in Confederation Standard. She looked at me, the barest ghost of a smile flitting across her lips before turning to the mess hall. “Who is this man that offers me a sword, and why should I accept his offer above any others?” She turned back to wait for my response.
Oh, that ice witch. First, she ransacks the ship, bending everyone (including myself) to her will in an effort to get back a stupid vibro-blade she never wanted in the first place. Then when it's finally been found and I throw a banquet in her honor, no sooner do I present it to her on bended knee, than she’s suddenly not sure she wants it and starts playing hard to get.
“I am the man that saved your life,” I said, hoping to keep things short and sweet. Figuring I could add all the fruit salad behind my name later on if she insisted.
She seemed to be considering this but I knew it all for the ploy it was. She just liked me on my knees in front of everyone, and wanted to make me squirm.
“A definite point in your favor,” she said after her moment of consideration, “But do you think you’re the only man who has saved my life,” she asked.
I didn’t now, but before she asked this particular question, I had kind of been assuming that I had.
“What makes you more worthy than any other, that I should accept the burden of your blade,” she demanded.
She had me scrambling, and worse I knew she could see it. If I had ever thought I would be the undisputed master of this battlefield, I was now disabused of that notion. So I temporized by starting with the truth.
“I am a Prince of the Caprian Realm. A member of the Caprian blood royal,” I tossed out there, then wanting it over with I threw everything but the kitchen sink at her, “As well as the Governor of Planetary Body Harpoon, and Admiral of the Confederation’s Multi-Sector Patrol Fleet.”
She nodded appreciat
ively while I was talking and then shook her head regretfully.
“Every man who offers me his sword claims his lineage is the greatest or the proudest or the most superior. But I have never before heard of this Capria, and so I know not how to compare it to the claims of others,” she said in a mournful voice.
And now she scoffed at the big artillery too. I was at a loss for what she wanted. Other than maybe to humiliate me by refusing the sword in front of all these people.
She must have seen my confusion because she decided to throw me a bone.
“All of your titles except Prince are those held in trust for another. Governor is not ruler. Ad-mi-ral,” she said, pronouncing the rank in Confederation Standard, “is title of great war leader, but again, not ruler,” she stared into my eyes. “I am a Hold Mistress. How do I know you will be able to protect that which is mine and secure the inheritance of my daughters? You can be called away in service to your overlord at any time.”
Was she speaking hypothetically, or did she mean she already had daughters but no husband? This was starting to weird me out. Was I marrying her and adopting a family at the same time? I knew I should be focusing on other things, but this was turning out to be surreal.
I mean, so what if she wanted security while I was gone? All women wanted security. Men too, for that matter. Everyone wanted to feel secure. What was this bit about daughters? Mom would probably be happy to know she had some grandchildren and would almost certainly want to visit them regularly, prolonging the amount of time I had to spend on the surface with this woman.
Enough of this getting beat on for not being my own man, I decided. Let's put this into stark contrast.
“Monsters like the ones that captured you and held you onboard their ship are making plans to return to your world in bigger and bigger ships. They will keep coming until they have conquered your world and devastated your resources, industry and population unless someone can stop them,” I paused for effect. Blondie looked shaken, although she hid it well from the crowd. Good. It was time she realized she wasn’t the only one who had a firm grip on the other’s sensitive parts.
“They have done this before on distant worlds, and they will do so again and again until they are stopped. Starting here,” I looked at her squarely and held her gaze to let her know I wasn’t joking.
“If you take up this sword and help me find a place in your system for the people in my care, I pledge in turn to help them construct a mighty fortress far above the sky, out in the airy reaches of cold space. I will ensure they have the tools to build another on the surface of your planet, and also to station such ships as I am able, to drive the Bugs away from your world. If possible, I will also track these vile monstrosities back to their nests and crush them absolutely.”
“And my daughters inheritance,” she asked in a barely diminished voice.
“Under the circumstances,” I said, wondering again what exactly those were, “I will do the best I can for your daughters. However, without me and my fleet, your daughters won’t survive long enough to have an inheritance. Unless it's as homeless refugees fleeing your world on a starship.”
“A persuasive case,” she announced coldly, any hint of playfulness disappearing from her demeanor.
She gave me a regal nod and placed a hand on the hilt of Bandersnatch. “As always, my choice was no choice at all,” she said to me in a low voice that not even the translator could pick up.
“There’s always a choice, Lady,” I muttered back at her. “It's just that sometimes, all other options are worse.”
She nodded and turned, pulling the sword out of its sheath with a flourish, and presented it to the crowd. After a few moments, everyone proceeded to their seats and it was time to eat.
The dinner went better than I’d expected, and the sword’s holo-montage was a hit. Watching recordings of people was obviously a new and exciting experience for her and the rest of the natives.
At one point, when the action was hot and heavy and we were watching a clipping of a royal guard fighting off a band of assassins, she even grabbed my hand in excitement.
The action slowed and she seemed to realize what she’d done. Dropping my hand like it was something awful, she gave me a disgusted look that showed I was still the big ugly in her life. Both figuratively and, with my still healing skin, literally.
Thinking to make a quiet exit, I was just starting to get up from my chair when a hand reached out and thrust me back down in my chair.
I have to say, my lady was no shrinking violet. She was tall and well built. Properly proportioned, she was no rail made out of skin and bones. However, I had already known all of this just from looking at her. What I hadn’t known was just how strong she was for her size as well.
So, instead of creeping out the back way and returning to mingle with the crowd for brownie points, I stayed up on the dais for the remainder of the dinner banquet.
Some of the cultural missteps were quietly amusing. Yet others one didn’t dare be amused at for fear of a violent reaction.
At the end of things, she seemed as happy as a woman suddenly married to a man she just met could be.
I instructed Officer Tremblay, who had been unusually quiet during dinner, to find quarters appropriate for her station, and made good my escape.
I was flat exhausted, and if I had possessed the energy would have been campaigning for an immediate trip down to the surface. As it was, I knew the settlers could only survive so long on with shuttles making trips into the planet’s atmosphere for replacement air before things turned ugly on the Settlement ships. I was just too tired to deal with it.
Returning to my quarters, a small two room set up originally intended for the ship’s Flag Lieutenant, I fell into bed and crashed hard.
Chapter 31: To the Surface
The shuttle ride down to the surface was uncomfortable. Oh, the gee forces were never fun, but somehow I had fallen further than ever in Lady Akantha’s estimation.
I’d barely got two words out of her frozen exterior, and both of those had been biting.
I couldn’t figure out what was wrong. I wined and dined her, gave her a proper proposal and made sure she had nice quarters. Anything had to be better than sick bay. I genuinely thought we ended on a high note the last time we spoke. I must have been wrong. Maybe it was just her way of putting up a good front for the crowd. I couldn’t understand her, but if things went according to plan, hopefully I wouldn’t need to for much longer.
All I needed was permission from one of the local rulers to let us land our settlers. Any nice, out of the way location would do, so long as it wasn’t in the middle of a volcano.
“Remember,” I said. “I need to talk with someone who can give me permission to land a lot of people. Preferably a local ruler of some kind, although a representative with authority would do in a pinch,” I looked over at her to make sure she understood.
She shook her head at my repetition of the question, “We go to see my Uncle first. After, we can find lands for the people,” she said with an icy glare.
This time she wasn’t staring at the wall for extended periods. I was the direct focus of her gaze. I quickly realized I would rather have her looking at the wall, but having opened my big mouth to the point of wearing out her patience I guess I had made my own bed and now had to lay in it.
At least she had agreed with my estimation. Although, she still insisted we go visit her uncle first. She was rather close-lipped about the subject, but I suspected that she and her uncle didn’t get along, from the stony silence to my questions.
I had reluctantly brought along the Armory team once again. They were riding in the same shuttle as ourselves and the Promethean fire team that I was told had really helped us out on the Bug ship after I was separated from the rest of the group. Apparently, they had somehow managed to put on space suits and walk along the outside of the Bug ship to place explosive charges near the engines. So they were okay in my book. By deliberate design the rest
of the natives were coming down in a second shuttle alongside us.
We knew the general area the Scout Marauder had blasted off from, and thus where they had captured Akantha and the rest of the natives, but not the exact coordinates. So once we got close, directions started to involve a lot of questions and finger pointing.
Eventually the shuttle set down outside a rather large pile of stones. It looked like some kind of fortress citadel out of ancient Earth history.
Fortunately, no one was shooting at us. That might have something to do with the paint job Lady Akantha had insisted on if we didn’t wanted to land a long ways away and walk for more than half a day to reach the city. Since I had no intention of wasting the better part of half a day walking when lives were on the line, I agreed we could painted the shuttle any color she liked.
After landing, I stepped out a ramp on the back side of the shuttle and paused to admire the new color. It was the same dark blue as the cape she had worn to the banquet. When taken with the color of the capes all the maids had worn, I started to get the suspicion dark blue was the Lady’s official color.
Admiral Who? (A Spineward Sectors Novel:) Page 32
