Shades of Empire (ThreeCon)

by Carmen Webster Buxton

  Still pleased with himself, Antonio refused to be discouraged. “I’ll give you a house on the palace grounds. There must be one suitable, don’t you think?”

  “I should think so, Excellency. That would certainly make it easier to accomplish our goal, and it would still be different from Princess Vinitra’s circumstances, which makes it less suspicious. Lady Cassandra’s kidnapping adds even more plausibility. You can say we’re living on the palace grounds because you’re worried for her safety. “

  “And,” Antonio went on, “if you wish, I can even make the bitch pregnant for you, so you’ll have a son to carry on your name and title.”

  Paznowski’s eyes lit with warmth. “That would indeed be an honor, Excellency.”

  “I do like my idea,” Antonio said smugly. “We’ll see if Little Miss Cassandra is quite so complacent when I try out a few creative ways of making her suffer.”

  “That will, of course, be for you to decide, Excellency.”

  Antonio pushed Paznowski down on the pillows and kissed him again, running his hands over the other man’s body, pinching one nipple delicately, and then stroking the inside of his thigh. When he moved his hand higher, Paznowski arched his back and gave a gasp of pleasure.

  “It’s too bad I have to keep some of my strength for Vinitra, Sergei,” Antonio said, still stroking delicately. “I should like to take you again.”

  Paznowski opened his eyes and let out a faint sigh of disappointment.

  “Never mind,” Antonio said, as he held Paznowski down by his shoulders and lay almost on top of him. “There will be other times. You’re going to be practically a brother-in-law, and I like to keep these things in the family.”

  He kissed the older man one more time, and then released him and sat up.

  The adviser slid from the bed to kneel beside it. He lifted Antonio’s hand to his lips and kissed it reverently. “You honor me greatly, Excellency.”

  “I do, don’t I?” Antonio said. “Get dressed, Sergei. And don’t forget about getting more exercise.”

  “Yes, Excellency.”

  • • •

  Alexander was getting anxious because he had been away so long. He hadn’t thought it would take him so many days to find his family, and he hadn’t anticipated that he would have trouble with the skimmer on the second day of his return trip, and lose half a day having the power system repaired. When he counted the days, he realized there was less than a week left on his rental of the house on the outskirts of Montmartre.

  Alexander decided to go straight to the house agent’s office, to see if the house was available for another month. If not, he would have to find another place for himself and Cassandra.

  Himself and Cassandra. It distressed him when he realized how he was thinking. No matter what she said, he couldn’t believe the du Plessis wouldn’t make an effort to locate her. At the same time, the thought of leaving her on her own was inconceivable.

  Alexander hadn’t been able to listen to the news bulletins for some time because of the problem with the skimmer’s power system. He stopped and bought a portable com set in a little town about twenty kilometers from Montmartre, so that he could listen to the bulletins while he traveled.

  He had almost stopped listening when he heard the announcer mention her name. After a few words, Alexander steered the skimmer off the roadway and brought it to rest while he listened to rest of the bulletin.

  Lady Cassandra Fitzlothar, recently rescued from the clutches of the rebel horde that had attacked the palace, was now formally engaged to the newly created Baron Sergei Paznowski, Chief Confidential Adviser to her half brother, Emperor Antonio Edward Martain du Plessis.

  So they had found her. Here he was, hurrying back, and he was already too late. They had found her. Alexander tried to tell himself that if he had been with her it would have made no difference, but he couldn’t quite make himself believe it.

  Alexander pressed the replay switch and listened to the bulletin again. He recognized the name of Cassandra’s intended groom. Paznowski had served Emperor Lothar, and Alexander had seen him often when he came to the palace. He was, Alexander knew, a good deal older than Cassandra, but that wasn’t unusual for a marriage among the nobility. Something tugged at Alexander’s memory and he tried to remember what it was.

  Someone—was it Merot or the lieutenant? Someone in the Corps had snickered over some piece of gossip about Sergei Paznowski. The Corps weren’t known for their tolerance, and any male who didn’t conform to their standards was classified as a wimp or a weakling—something less than a man. Paznowski was known to prefer the company of men, not just for drinking and gambling but for more intimate pursuits, and that was enough to make the likes of Duchenne and Merot despise him.

  It fit, Alexander decided. It fit with what Cassandra had told him of her brother. Antonio had arranged a sham marriage for one sister, and now he would marry the other one to a man who wouldn’t want her in his bed, and who would allow her brother to be there instead.

  Alexander sat in the skimmer for some time before he decided what to do. It occurred to him that if they had found the house, they must know about him. He didn’t think that Cassandra would tell them anything, but he must have left traces. They would know from Duchess that one of the rebels was a guardsman, and the house would provide a way to identify him. He would have to be very careful. And he would need help.

  • • •

  The bakery looked deserted. Alexander studied it for some time, from a small cafe conveniently located across the street and two doors down. The door to the bakery never opened the entire time. Eventually, Alexander decided that it was pointless to sit and watch an empty building, so he paid for his lunch and stood up to go. A man who had been sitting at a table behind him stood up also, and Alexander almost bumped into him.

  “Sorry,” Alexander said.

  The man turned and Alexander saw that it was Ostrov. The rebel leader smiled politely, but he was holding one hand inside his jacket.

  “Don’t make any sudden moves,” Ostrov ordered, his voice low but tense. “Walk in front of me to the rear exit. Go through the door and down the steps, and then get into the brown skimmer that’s waiting.”

  Alexander obeyed him, walking carefully with his hands at his sides. He had no idea whether the unseen weapon Ostrov held was lethal or not, but he didn’t intend to take any chances.

  The skimmer was nondescript, except for being old and slightly battered. The cargo door slid open as Alexander approached, and he got inside, and found himself staring at the barrel of an energy pistol.

  “Sit down on the floor,” Lottie Chen ordered.

  Alexander sat down, and the door closed behind him. Alexander could hear that there was someone else in the compartment behind him, but before he could turn around, the unseen someone slipped a hood over his head, and suddenly all he could see was blackness.

  “Hold out your hands,” Chen said.

  Alexander obeyed and wasn’t surprised to feel wrist restraints being slipped over his hands, just as the skimmer lifted and started to move.

  “Move out of the way, Lottie,” someone said. Alexander thought it was Ostrov, but he wasn’t sure. There was the faint, almost imperceptible hum of a switch making contact, and the blackness fuzzed into nothingness as Alexander collapsed, unconscious, on the cargo compartment floor.

  • • •

  When Alexander woke, the hood had been removed. He was instantly conscious of cramped muscles. In addition to the restraints on his wrists, his arms and legs had been tied to the chair on which he was sitting. He could see the edge of the holographic tattoo on his cheek. They had removed the bandage.

  Lottie Chen had just moved a hypospray away from Alexander’s neck; he could smell a faint, medicinal odor, so he supposed they had given him a drug to counteract the effect of what was most likely a stun gun charge. He was in a small room, with only two windows high up on the far wall. It was very dim, but Alexander could make out crat
es of what looked like munitions stacked around the walls.

  “He’s awake,” Chen said. “Go ahead, Louis.”

  Alexander leaned his head back and looked up at the rebel leader.

  “Well?” Ostrov demanded. “What were you doing near the bakery?”

  “Looking for you,” Alexander said.

  “Why?”

  “I need your help, and I think I can help you.”

  “What happened during the raid?” Chen interrupted. “We thought you must surely have died with the others, but the skimmer was gone when we went to look for it.”

  “No,” Alexander said. “I didn’t die. I made it out safely.”

  “And you kidnapped the Emperor’s sister!”

  “No,” Alexander said again. “I didn’t kidnap her. I didn’t even know who she was. She told me the woman I was looking for was dead, and then she asked me to take her instead, so I did.”

  “Lady Cassandra asked to leave the palace?” Ostrov said incredulously. “Why?”

  Alexander took a deep breath. Making them believe it would be the hard part. “Because her brother, the new Emperor Antonio du Plessis, is a pervert. He has incestuous desires for both his sisters, and Lady Cassandra didn’t care for the idea of staying in the palace. She preferred to take her chances with me.”

  Chen frowned at him. “What?”

  Alexander stared at the floor. “You heard me.”

  “You’re making this up,” Ostrov said.

  “No, I’m not.” Alexander looked up, scanned their faces. They all had the same frozen expression, surprise mixed with incredulity. “I spent over two weeks with Cassandra Fitzlothar, and there’s not much I don’t know about the Imperial family.”

  “And then what happened?” Chen took a few steps, as if to unfreeze herself. “We heard they found Lady Cassandra in an empty house at the edge of town. Did you abandon her?”

  His conscience stabbed Alexander. “I didn’t mean to. I left her in a house I’d rented, intending to come back for her after I’d seen my family in the Aquitaine. The army must have found her—maybe through the house agent. I don’t know for sure.”

  “So what is it you want from us now?” Ostrov jabbed Alexander’s chest with one finger. “Why did you look for us?”

  “I want to get back into the palace,” Alexander said. “If you can help me do that, I’m willing to kill Antonio du Plessis for you.”

  “Wait just a minute,” Chen said, her expression as intent as if she were taking an exam. “You said the Emperor lusts after his half-sister. Why has he just announced her engagement to his newest baron?”

  “If you look into it,” Alexander said, “you’ll find that Sergei Paznowski is known to have had liaisons with other men. He’s more likely to feel passion for Antonio himself than for Lady Cassandra.”

  “Louis, this is the answer!” Chen said suddenly, clapping her hands together. “Don’t you see? We wondered why they didn’t execute Duchess! It all fits together! It wasn’t that Antonio spared her because her brother was marrying his sister—it was the other way around! They spared her life because the brother agreed to the marriage! He and the Princess are living in the palace, remember?”

  “Yes,” Ostrov said, his face relaxing into a smile. “Yes, I remember. You’ve given us some valuable ammunition, Sentinel. Perhaps you weren’t aware of it, but Princess Vinitra is pregnant. The palace just announced it this afternoon.”

  Alexander didn’t understand why they all looked so happy. “How will that help you?”

  Ostrov’s smile grew wider and more complacent. “People are dissatisfied with the du Plessis already. In the cities it’s because of taxation, and in the country it’s because of the press gangs.” He paced back and forth, gesturing like a lecturer. “The government has always been careful to let the press gangs operate only in rural areas, where it’s too hard for protest to be effective. That way conscription doesn’t interfere with the supply of factory workers needed to keep the economy running. And the farmers don’t pay much in taxes because they don’t have much money.” He stopped and shook his finger at Alexander. “Now, however, we have an issue on which both the city and country people, and even the nobility will be united. No one will support an incestuous dynasty. This will allow us to bring down the du Plessis!”

  “Then you’ll help me?” Alexander asked.

  Ostrov’s smile dissipated into a frown of annoyance. “No! Why should we lose more men in another suicide mission? We’ll work in secret to make sure what you’ve told us becomes known. It may take time, but we’ll win in the end.”

  “Lady Cassandra may be dead by then,” Alexander said.

  Ostrov looked scornful. “What do I care about the daughter of Lothar du Plessis?”

  “She’s never hurt anyone,” Alexander burst out. “She didn’t choose to be born the Emperor’s daughter.”

  “Maybe not,” Ostrov said, “but there’s still no reason we should take any risk to help her.”

  “You don’t need to take a risk.” He was losing them. He needed to make his case quickly. “Just get me some heavy-duty weapons, and I’ll go by myself!”

  “Let’s think about this, Louis,” Chen said. “Don’t make a hasty decision. It might be worth it to us to have Sentinel at least try. Even if he fails miserably, it would keep our cause alive in the public’s eyes. All it would cost us would be the weapons, and we have those.”

  “We may need them later,” Ostrov said.

  “We might, but we have time to get more.”

  “Without Duchess, money has become more of an obstacle.” Ostrov sounded almost petulant. “We can’t afford empty gestures.”

  “I have a jeweled box I took from the palace,” Alexander said. “I have no idea how much it’s worth, but you’re welcome to it.”

  Ostrov hesitated but didn’t reply.

  “Let’s talk it over with Karchin and see what he thinks?” Chen said.

  Ostrov frowned for a second, but then nodded. “All right, Lottie. We’ll see what Karchin has to say about it.”

  Alexander’s muscles ached. “Can’t you let me loose in the meantime? I’m not going anywhere.”

  “No,” Ostrov said. “We don’t trust you. Everyone on the raid died, except you. You’re staying right here until we decide what to do with you.”

  They left him there, alone in the dark. Alexander groaned and tried to stretch as much as he could. It wasn’t very far. He had a pounding headache, and he wondered if it was from the stun charge, the drug they had given him, or a combination of both things.

  He had almost drifted off to sleep, hanging in his bonds, when the lights came on suddenly.

  Lottie Chen and Louis Ostrov had been joined by Quentin Karchin. It took Alexander a moment to recognize the object in Karchin’s hand as a hypospray.

  “What’s that?” Alexander said in alarm.

  “Insurance,” Karchin said, and he pressed the hypo against Alexander’s neck and activated it before the Alexander could protest.

  “You don’t need that; I’m not—” Alexander said, and then he stopped as lethargy consumed him.

  “You’re not what?” Karchin asked.

  “Lying.” Alexander was conscious that he was speaking, but he had no control over what he said. He remembered the feeling very well from his previous interrogations.

  “What happened in the raid?” Ostrov demanded. “Which one of our men killed the Emperor?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “What do you know?” Ostrov said impatiently. “What did you do during the raid?”

  “I unlocked the door and went inside,” Alexander said tonelessly. “I pretended to be drunk and fooled the guard at the door into letting me get close. I killed him, and then I let the others in. We put the guard’s body in the pantry. I asked for the bag with my supplies. They gave it to me, and then I took the others through the house. They killed a servant and I protested, but it was too late. Then they killed two guardsmen, and we lef
t the bodies in the corridor. I showed them the corridor to the Emperor’s suite and went over the layout. I left the others there, and I went to the women’s quarters, where I pretended to be wounded. There were two guards on duty, and I shot them. I looked for Celia, but I couldn’t find her. I couldn’t find anyone until a woman walked down the corridor and asked me what was happening. I asked her about Celia, and she said Celia was dead. She asked me to take her out instead, and so I opened the bag—”

  “Enough!” Karchin said. “Stop talking, Napier! You can’t ask open questions like that, Ostrov. He’ll ramble on forever.”

  “All right,” Ostrov said. “Did you see the others again after that, Napier?”

  “No.”

  “How did you get out of the palace?”

  “I joined a patrol that was policing the outside perimeter, and slipped away when no one was paying attention to me.”

  “So you don’t know anything about what happened to our men?”

  Alexander frowned with the effort of deciding whether he knew anything or not. “They said if I lived I should tell you that they died well. After that, I could hear noises—pistols firing, bodies falling, people screaming.”

  “And that’s all?”

  “Yes.”

  “Enough about the first raid, Louis,” Karchin said. “He told the truth about that. Let’s find out about this new attempt.”

  “Napier,” Ostrov said sternly, “why do you want us to give you weapons?”

  “So that I can kill Antonio du Plessis.”

  “Why do you want to kill the Emperor?”

  “Cassandra won’t be safe until he’s dead.”

  “I see,” Ostrov said. “So this is all about the woman?”

  “Yes.”

  “You care about her?” Lottie Chen asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Did you rape her?” Ostrov said bluntly.

  “No.”

  “Did you make love with her?” Chen asked.

  “Yes.”

  “What about this new attack?” Karchin said. “How do you plan to get inside?”

  “I’ll use the weak place in the perimeter.”