by D. D. Chant
“So do I, but in the meantime you have me, Leda, and I promise you that I’ll never give up.”
Leda raised an eyebrow, looking somewhat less than impressed by his declaration.
“As much as I appreciate the sentiment, Benji, it still comes back to the original problem: what can any of us do?”
Ben winked at her.
“We can be determined, and we can give them hell.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
The Tula
It was time. Senator Burton stood once more on the platform that had been erected in the square before Government Building, waiting to welcome the new leader of the peace keeping envoy from the Free Nation. Only on this occation he stood behind Councillor Ladron, no longer the important head of the diplomatic mission, but the cast off leader whose position had become untenable due to his son’s kidnapping.
Councillor Sendel stood beside him, looking as though his prolonged illness had taken its toll. His face was thinner and his eyes sunken. Senator Burton knew that it was Sendel’s first appearance since making his recovery.
“I’m glad to see you’re feeling better, Councillor.”
Sendel inclined his head slightly, placing his hand over his heart.
“I believe I have you to thank for my recovery, Senator.”
For a moment both men looked at each other measuringly, and then Councillor Sendel’s eyes travelled to where Councillor Ladron stood in front of them. Senator Burton felt no surprise. He knew already how ruthlessly Ladron could drop someone who had ceased to be of use to him. Councillor Sendel watched his face closely.
“I see we understand each other well, Senator.”
Pillip nodded and Sendel moved a step nearer.
“Then please accept some advice. If you ever need to talk about something… important… I suggest that you take a walk. You never know who might overhear.”
Philip felt his hand close in to a tight fist.
“Thank you, Councillor.”
“Walking clears the mind, and everything becomes so much easier to understand. I walk to Government Building every morning, and pause half way at Jayn’s café in the square by the library, at about eight o’clock. Do you drink tea or coffee, Senator Burton?”
“Tea.”
For a moment Councillor Sendel’s eyes smiled.
“Very wise. You never know what might be in your coffee, do you?”
Philip felt his throat tightening, choking him with the remembered panic of that afternoon in Ladron’s office. He suddenly thought he might be sick.
“Oh, look.” Councillor Sendel pointed to a small procession making its way down the gangplank. “Here they come. Which of them is Senator Fredrickson?”
Philip watched the five people walk with dignified sobriety to the edge of the podium. Councillor Ladron stepped forward, inclining his head and welcoming them to the Tula Strongholds. Senator Burton smirked slightly as he noticed that Corbani Va Dic Ladron was addressing Herbert Vine, personal assistant to Senator Fredrickson. Corbani had obviously mistaken Herbert for Senator Fredrickson, and was taking great pains to impress him.
It was an easy enough mistake to make. Herbert was over six feet tall, with a beaked nose and an air of hard-bitten strength. He was a bulldog, a man who made an excellent second in command, but one who did not have a natural flair for leadership. After a few moments Senator Fredrickson stepped forward, putting an end to the misunderstanding.
“How do you do, Councillor, I am Senator Fredrickson. This is my personal assistant, Mr. Vine.”
It was perhaps the first time Senator Burton had seen Councillor Ladron at a loss. For a few seconds, he stared down at the petite, middle-aged woman before him, struggling to regain his composure.
“It is a pleasure to have you here, Senator.”
Beside him Philip felt Councillor Sendel shaking with suppressed mirth.
“Why didn’t you tell him?”
“Tell him what?”
Councillor Sendel raised his eyebrows.
“He won’t forgive you for making him look unprepared.”
“He’s about to find out that his irritation is of no concern to me.”
“Be careful, Senator Burton. Much as I applaud the sentiment, there is a time and a place for such things and this is not it.”
“Then I look forward to the time and the place.”
Councillor Sendel smiled.
“So do I, Senator.”
------
The Una
The large wooden door crashed open, and Headman Nadu paused on the threshold, a nervous servant hovering behind him.
“You may leave us, Len.”
The servant looked relieved, and scurried away hastily.
Headman Chopra remained seated behind the large desk, his head bent in perusal of some document that Headman Nadu could not see. His indifference inflamed Headman Nadu's already irritated mood. After a period of silence, Nadu stepped into the room and slammed the door heavily behind him.
“How dare you summon me as though I were a servant!” His voice trembled with fury.
Headman Chopra waved him in the direction of one of the chairs next to the tea table. Yet still he did not deign to look up. Nadu strode forwards and brought his fist down on the desk.
“I am not your skivvy, and I will not be treated as such!”
Chopra still didn't look up from the missive that held his attention so completely.
“And yet here you are: ever obedient to my summons.” He observed calmly. “Sit down and be silent until I am ready to speak to you. Your time would be best spent in recalling how insignificant your family and territories were, before I elevated you from obscurity.”
For a moment Chopra looked up, his eyes meeting those of Headman Nadu with such coldness that Nadu felt the fire of anger quenched within him.
“I put you where you are, Park. You owe everything you have to me, and I can take it all back any time I wish.”
Headman Nadu had paled, knowing that everything Chopra had said was true.
When the Head Families had been established after the split they had been equal in power, but time had changed that. Over the years some families’ influence had grown and others had declined. Headman Nadu’s family had been one of those to fall into insignificance.
The House of Nadu ruled over a northern territory, and it was the northern territories that had suffered. They had enough to be self-sufficient, but had nothing that the richer southern territories wanted. New Madrid’s items for trade were furs, dogs, salted game and fish, oil and timber. The houses from the warm south had little use for furs and viewed salted fish and meat as the rough food of barbarians.
The northern nation of New Amsterdam was known for its fine hunting and war dogs, and the densely forested nation of New Tehran for its beautiful wood. Nothing his lands produced was of a comparable quality to the goods from these rival traders. With their ability to trade limited by demand and competition, their influence within the Head Families was also restricted.
Chopra had changed all that. With his support, New Madrid had risen through trade with the rich nation of New Bagdad.
Support.
Headman Nadu smirked at his own choice of word. Bribery was a better way of putting it. In exchange for his allegiance, and the loyalty of his people, Headman Chopra had opened up trade between their two people. He had increased New Madrid’s wealth and influence in return for their fealty.
Nadu wasn’t the only Headman to yield to the lure of power and prosperity. Many Headmen lived in Headman Chopra’s pocket.
“I have some surprising news.”
Headman Chopra paused folding the document, locking it away in his desk before getting to his feet.
“A very interesting piece of information.”
Headman Nadu restrained his impatience with visible effort, as Headman Chopra seated himself before the tea tray. He bit back angry words as Chopra silently began to pour tea from the ornate glass teapot into gild
ed glass cups on delicate saucers.
“If handled correctly, the news will prove disastrous to the House of Sen and all who support them.”
“What is it?” snapped Headman Nadu.
Headman Chopra winced and set his teacup down gently.
“Your lack of finesse is truly painful, Park.” He shook his head. “Apparently Dam’sel Aya has been somewhat less than truthful with us. Benji Va Dic Toban, one of those Tula men whom she claims as brother, is not Tula at all. He is the son of Senator Philip Burton, the man in control of peace talks between the Free Nation and the Tula.”
“How do you know that?”
Headman Chopra shrugged.
“One of the men in Shin’s old regiment was present at their capture. He told me that at the time ‘Benji’ was wearing a strange item of clothing around his neck. His description of the item put me in mind of the clothing that the representatives of the Free Nation wore. I merely reviewed the footage from the Tula news broadcasts. ‘Benji’ was not so hard to pick out.”
Headman Nadu frowned.
“But if she has brought him here she has provided us with a valuable bargaining chip. How can we use that to damage the House of Sen?”
A look of acute frustration passed over Headman Chopra’s features.
“How many times must I tell you, Park, the damage is in the retelling? She may have brought him here, but she has yet to make him known to us. What can her motive be but to attack our nation from the inside?”
“But Kai…”
“Has no idea who ‘Benji’ really is, that is what makes this so perfect.”
“What will you do?”
“That is simple. I will expose Dam’sel Aya’s treachery before the Headmen, and this time she and her Tula ‘family’ will not escape the sentence of death. Kai’s crime will be his ignorance. The House of Singh will be tainted by her treachery, and those of Rui and Daksha will be guilty by association. Their influence will suffer greatly, and I shall quietly encourage all like-minded Headmen to cease to trade with any of them, thereby weakening their position even more. These four, now weak, are the basis of Elder Headman Amajit’s strength. With their fall, he will fall also.”
“None of The Nine will openly disobey Elder Headman Amajit.”
“Not while he is strong, but when he is powerless? You will find their desire to survive will far outweigh their allegiance to Una law.”
Headman Nadu looked uncertain.
“I would not bet on their loyalty.”
Headman Chopra smiled unpleasantly.
“I'm not betting on their loyalty: I’m betting on their greed. They will fear that they will lose everything if they don’t pick a side and stand together with us. Their greed will tell them that their loyalty to us will be well rewarded.”
Headman Nadu repressed a desire to shudder.
Those were the very reasons that had caused him to throw his lot in with Headman Chopra. He would be well rewarded when the time came if he was loyal, and destroyed if he was not. Yet hearing Headman Chopra speak of his plan, he knew a sudden uncertainty. A clear understanding of the damage Chopra would wreak on the Una nation crystallised in his mind.
His better self recoiled from helping him destroy everything, but his baser nature shrugged off such considerations. This Nation had done nothing for him, why should he attempt to preserve it from harm?
“What do you want me to do?”
Chopra smiled.
“Merely express your outrage and desire for justice at the appropriate time. It will be enough for now.”
Headman Nadu rose.
“Is there anything else?”
Chopra shook his head, and waved a casual hand in dismissal. Headman Nadu bowed briefly and left, closing the door softly behind him.
------
Chopra smiled as his friend left and reclined comfortably in his chair.
It was so close now, he could almost taste victory and it was sweet as honey in his mouth. Elder Headman Amajit would fall, just as he had planned for so long. It had been inevitable from the beginning that it would end this way.
Elder Headman Amajit had attempted to rule the Headmen by bringing them together in peace and unity. He had acted for the good of the people, and followed an ideal that would bring them peace and prosperity.
Headman Chopra had no intention of acting for the good of anyone but himself. He did not wish the Headmen unified, because together they were strong. He wanted them divided, mistrustful and weak, so that they were easily manipulated. The last thing he wanted was them to be unified against him.
He closed his eyes. He’d waited so long, worked so hard, and fought so viciously for this. He'd sold his soul a hundred times over for the chance of success, and he had sacrificed everything.
Chopra paused, thinking of Shin. He had sacrificed Shin to the greed that had consumed him, and lost his son forever. Shin, who was so serious and quiet. He had lost him to Elder Headman Amajit’s ideals and to the friendship of Kai Uel Ne Sen.
His youngest son had never approved of his desire to usurp Elder Headman Amajit’s position. He had cared even less for his father’s motives. When Shin had found the true extent of his machinations, and how he had sought to weaken every House that remained loyal to the Elder Headman, he had been horrified.
As a sixteen-year-old boy, Shin had demanded that he stop causing trouble between the Head Families. Headman Chopra had refused, and demanded that Shin be loyal to his people.
Shin had left the house an hour later, taking nothing with him. His last defiant act had been to rip his sash free, and throw his family colours to the ground.
In all the years that had passed since that day, Shin had never entered the house of his family again. He had never again worn the colours of the House of Chopra. He had preferred the ignobility of wearing no colours at all, of branding himself an outcast with no name, no longer recognised by his family.
The rift was deep. Shin had caused him much shame, and had disrupted his plans on more than one occasion. Still, Headman Chopra knew that he would always forgive his son. When the upheaval he had planned for so long came to fruition, he would see that Shin was safe. No matter what, Shin was his flesh. Whatever happened, he would love and protect him, but he would not let him alter his course.
Change was inevitable, as necessary as breathing. Though Shin might stand in the way of that change, obstructing his own father’s path, it would not stop the course of events.
Shin had too much compassion for his fellow men. He could not understand that some must suffer so others could live in luxury, that some must be oppressed so others could achieve greatness. Shin had no form of personal greed, and he could not stand to see the distress of others.
Headman Chopra shook his head. Shin took after his mother, he was too soft, gentle. Had he been the eldest son, Chopra could not have overlooked and indulged Shin’s whimsical ideals. As his heir and Apprentice Headman, it would have been impossible. Shin would have destroyed everything Chopra had spent his life building up.
Being a Headman had taught Chopra that hard decisions had to be made. A Headman needed to have the strength of character to make those decisions without flinching. Had Shin been his heir he would have killed him. There would have been no other way. Because hidden behind the softness that prohibited Shin from inflicting pain on another, was a tenacious strength. He would not be diverted from the path he had chosen by anyone.
Chopra sighed heavily. Shin was a fool to think that the ideals that Elder Headman Amajit guarded so jealously were realistic. The harsh truth was that man’s inclination was selfish, and no matter how Elder Headman Amajit tried, that selfishness would prevail again and again.
Headman Nadu was a prime example of how greed would always triumph over selflessness. Park Uel Ne Nadu wanted to do the right thing, but did not have the strength of character to withstand the temptation of power. The promise of a powerful position in the new dynasty that Headman Chopra was creating had seduce
d him completely, and he had buried his principles without hesitation.
Headman Chopra did not deceive himself. He knew his actions were prompted by avarice and the thirst for power. He made no excuses for himself, and privately thought any man who passed up the opportunity to gain power, by fair means or foul, was a complete fool.
His attitude had shocked Elder Headman Amajit, and the aversion between them went both ways. Elder Headman Amajit saw Chopra’s greed as the failing of a weak-willed man. Chopra saw Elder Headman Amajit’s wish to achieve unity as the senile ramblings of an old fool.
Headman Chopra smiled. Soon Elder Headman Amajit would find out just how foolish he had been.
Chapter Thirty
The Tula
Rachel Fredrickson kicked off her shoes and swung her legs up onto the seat beside her.
“Boy, do these guys like to make a fuss. My feet are killing me!”
Philip removed his jacket and handed it to Lester before sitting down in the armchair opposite her.
“Would you like a cup of tea?”
Senator Fredrickson snorted.
“Tea’s for sissies: I want a scotch.”
“Very well, Lester; a scotch for Senator Fredrickson and a tea for me.”
Rachel eyed him disapprovingly.
“Sissy.”
“Whatever you like, Rachel.”
“Make sure he doesn’t do something stupid, like water it down with soda or ice, would you.”
As she spoke, Senator Fredrickson wriggled her plump frame into a more comfortable position. Her jacket bunched up, stretching the buttons tight and her skirt twisted, lifting to reveal a sturdy white nononsense petticoat that was completely free from adornment.
“They’re a bit of a crazy bunch aren’t they?”
“Who are?”
“Your parents,” Rachel returned sarcastically. “The Tula, you nut!”
Senator Burton turned slightly to accept a cup of tea from Lester.
“They have their idiosyncrasies.”
Senator Fredrickson snorted again.
“No need to go using fancy words, Phil. They’re a bit crazy. Now don’t get me wrong; they’re smart and their technology is outta this world, but there's no denying that they’re a bit cranky too.”
