Deathstalker Legacy (17 page)

Jesamine glared at Anne and then shrugged. “Bully. I’ll make my mark, you wait and see. Just . . . not in the House. So; what are you going to be doing, while I’m standing around like a spare bridesmaid at a wedding?”

“I have even less right to be in the House than you do,” said Anne. “I’m just Head of Protocol, really nothing more than a glorified civil servant. I’ll be right here, watching everything on the monitors. I’ll still be able to talk to you through your comm implants, offering advice and late-breaking information. I’ve done everything I can to establish a private channel they can’t access or jam, but if I do black out for a while, don’t panic. I will get back to you. If you need to talk to me, subvocalize. I’ll hear you. But keep it cryptic. Some MPs have been known to employ lip readers.”

“It looks like most of the honorable Members are already in the House,” said Jesamine. She rose gracefully to her feet and drifted over to study the changing images on the monitor screens. “It looks very crowded. I don’t remember seeing half this many MPs in the House for ages.”

“Of course not,” said Anne, joining her. “Even the most important Debates don’t attract crowds like this. Only a fraction of an MP’s work gets done on the floor of the House. The real deals get sorted out behind the scenes. No; Douglas, this is all for you.”

“Wonderful,” said Douglas. “I must remember to send them all nice little thank-you notes.”

Anne pointed out some of the more famous names and faces to Jesamine, who found something insulting and appalling to say about all of them. Lewis took the opportunity for a quiet word with Douglas.

“Why didn’t you tell me I was going to be your Champion?” he said bluntly. “Why spring it on me like that? I could have used some time to prepare myself.”

“Not a chance,” Douglas said firmly. “I know you, Lewis. If I’d given you any time to think about it, you’d have found some way to talk yourself out of it. You always were too damned modest, too lacking in ambition, for your own good. Which was one of the main reasons why I chose you. And because we’d always worked so well together as partners. I needed a Champion I could rely on. Someone I knew I could trust.”

Lewis raised an eyebrow. “You couldn’t trust Finn Durandal?”

“Hell no! Finn’s always had his own agenda. He wanted to be Champion for all the wrong reasons. And after what he did to the ELFs in the Arena . . . He didn’t execute them so justice could be served. He killed them because he took their assault in his territory as a slap in the face. He butchered them all in cold blood because they made him look bad.”

“That’s a bit harsh, isn’t it?” said Lewis.

“Is it?”

“Finn’s a good man, at heart,” said Lewis. “A bit cold, yes. Not the easiest of people to get on with. But he really is the greatest Paragon we’ve ever had. No one can match his record.”

“And none of that means anything if he did it for the wrong reasons,” said Douglas. “Finn’s a killer, Lewis; so he went where the killing was. The Arenas could never satisfy someone like him. Because when he kills someone in the streets, they stay dead.”

“That’s a terrible thing to say!”

“Do you doubt it’s true?”

Lewis shook his head slowly. “So . . . you didn’t choose me just because I’m a Deathstalker?”

“No,” said Douglas, smiling. “I chose you because you’re Lewis. Because there’s no one else I’d rather have at my side.”

They smiled at each other for a long moment, two old friends, still partners, setting out on a great new adventure; then Douglas went back to looking through his last few papers. Lewis looked around the room, pulled irritably at his collar again, and sighed just a little moodily.

“Even so,” he said. “It feels weird, just standing around like this. Usually by this time of the day we’d be on our third case, and already falling behind schedule. Never thought I’d miss getting up far too early in the morning to go out on patrol . . . And speaking of that, there’s one thing I’ve been worrying about . . .”

“Only one?” said Douglas. “I don’t think you’ve been paying attention, Lewis. There are dozens of things worrying me.”

“This one is particularly close to home,” said Lewis sternly. “There used to be three Paragons guarding and patrolling Logres. You, me, and Finn Durandal. Now there’s just the one: Finn. One man, to handle all the evils this world can throw at him. And God alone knows what state of mind he’s in, now he isn’t Champion after all.”

“God help whoever he takes it out on,” Douglas said easily. “Bad time to be a criminal on Logres, I would have thought.”

“Has anybody spoken to Finn yet? I tried, but he won’t take my calls.”

Douglas shrugged. “I looked for him after the Ceremony, but he’d disappeared. I tried to reach him later, on my private channel as well as my new official one, but he’s screening all his calls. All I got was a terse recorded message, and a plug for a new website. The man’s just sulking, that’s all. Doesn’t want to talk to anyone because he doesn’t trust his temper yet. He always did think too much of himself. He’ll get over it. Eventually. He’s still officially the greatest Paragon of all time, and with you out of the way he’ll have less competition for the title. I wouldn’t worry about him, Lewis. Finn has a way of bouncing back. And don’t worry about Logres, either. With all the Paragons who turned up to witness my Coronation, the planet’s never been better guarded. And I’ve already arranged for a permanent replacement, once they’re gone; a second Paragon for Logres, to take up the slack in our absence.”

“Anyone I’d know?” said Lewis.

“Oh, I’d say so. Emma Steel, from Mistworld.”

“Damn! Oh yes, she’ll do very well here!” Lewis couldn’t keep from grinning. “The media’s going to love her. Hard but fair, but mostly hard.”

“Growing up on Mistworld will do that for you,” said Douglas. “She’s a real scrapper; just what’s needed. She was wasted on Rhiannon anyway; Logres will be much more of a challenge for her. And it’ll do Finn good to have someone with as big an ego as his to deal with.”

Lewis grinned. “Is Logres big enough to hold two egos that size?”

“Steel and the Durandal will make excellent partners,” said Douglas. “If they don’t kill each other first.”

“It’s still only two Paragons, not three,” said Lewis. “And you can bet the ELFs will be planning something really nasty in retaliation . . .”

“Don’t worry about it, dear,” said Jesamine, moving over to join them. She perched herself daintily on the arm of Douglas’s chair, and smiled sweetly at Lewis. “Logres survived perfectly well before you came here as Paragon, and it will do just as well now you’ve moved on. You men always think you’re indispensible.”

“We are now the Empire’s King and Champion,” said Douglas, slipping an arm around her waist. “That makes us indispensable, by definition.”

“Not necessarily,” said Anne. She turned her back on the monitor screens, folded her arms across her chest, and looked severely at Douglas. “You screw up out there in the House today, and all your good intentions will come to nothing. I keep my ear to the ground. I hear things. For some time now, a lot of people have been talking about doing away with the constitutional monarch entirely. Making the Empire into a Republic or a Federation.”

“People have been saying that since Robert and Constance were crowned,” said Douglas, unmoved.

“Yes, but these are important people we’re talking about now. People of position and influence. Robert and Constance were adored by the general populace, and made important and effective political contributions to the running of things. William and Niamh . . . didn’t have that kind of charisma, or impact. They were popular enough, but William never had his father’s deft political touch. Or any real interest in acquiring one. God knows I did my best to provide him with information he could use, but he just didn’t care. Some unkind people have been saying, inside and outside the House, that the Empire’s already effectively been without a real constitutional monarch for over a century, and managed quite well without one.”

“People may be saying these things,” said Douglas. “But is anyone listening? Anyone who matters?”

“As yet, most people are still reluctant to commit themselves, one way or the other. The MPs like having a King and Speaker, because it detracts attention away from them when they need someone to publicly carry the can for necessary but unpopular measures. But that could change really quickly if you don’t convince Parliament that you’re too popular, too useful, and too powerful to be easily ousted.”

“Well, that shouldn’t be too difficult,” said Lewis. “Your record as a Paragon shows you’re trustworthy; all you have to do today is show everyone that your heart’s in the right place.”

The others sighed quietly, almost in unison. “It’s not that simple,” said Anne.

“Why not?” Lewis said stubbornly. “Let the MPs be devious and shifty and make their little deals in smoke-filled back rooms. The King is supposed to be better than that. Why can’t Douglas just stand up for what he believes in?”

“I really don’t have time for this,” said Anne.

“Your trouble, Lewis,” said Jesamine, “is that because you’re an honorable man, you expect everyone else to be too. But the universe doesn’t work like that. How someone with your trusting nature ever survived the mean streets of Logres is a mystery to me.”

“I knew where I was in the mean streets,” said Lewis. “They were full of criminals and scumbags.”

“So is Parliament!” snapped Anne. “Nice guys don’t survive long in politics, and no one ever got to be a Member of Parliament without learning how to fight dirty. They might come into the House meaning well, but they soon learn that idealism doesn’t get you anywhere, and good intentions alone won’t get you reelected. You have to be seen to deliver something tangible for the voters back home. Politics is all about the art of the deal, and what you can get away with.”

Lewis looked at Douglas. “I thought you were planning to change all that?”

“I am,” said Douglas, meeting Lewis’s gaze steadily. “In time. But I’m just one man, fighting an established system. And a system that, for all its faults, works tolerably well. This is a Golden Age, after all. Trust me, Lewis. I know what I’m doing.”

“Well, I wish I did,” said Lewis. “I don’t even know exactly what you want me to
do
as Champion, Douglas. I can’t just be a glorified bodyguard, standing around waiting for something to happen. You’re already surrounded by the best security in the world. I’m not made for ceremonies, and looking good in public. Nice new outfit or not. I need . . . to be doing something. To be making a difference. Or I swear I’ll resign, and you can let Finn have the job anyway.”

“I need you, Lewis,” said Douglas. “I’ll always need you. To be my sounding board, to be my conscience and keep me honest, as well as keeping me safe.”

“Right,” said Anne. “The best security systems in the world can’t keep out a terrorist who doesn’t care about dying as long as he can take his target with him. Just by being King, Douglas already has enemies. We’ve already intercepted over two hundred death threats.”

Douglas looked at her. “We have? And just when were you going to tell me this?”

“Don’t worry about it now,” Anne said briskly. “You have an entire department set up to deal with things like that. They nearly always turn out to be cranks, anyway.”

“She’s quite right, darling,” said Jesamine. “You should see some of the mail I get. There’s a lot of weird people out there, with a fixation on public figures and far too much time on their hands. And don’t even get me started on stalkers. One man even had a complete body change to look just like me, turned up early at a rehearsal and tried to take over my role. It all fell apart when he started to sing, of course. Personally, I didn’t think he looked a bit like me. Had no style at all.”

“Be that as it may,” said Anne. “Parliament’s security has a lot of experience in dealing with threats. We haven’t even had a decent bomb scare in fifty years.”

“You see!” said Lewis. “What am I needed for?”

“Because even the best security people can have a bad day,” said Anne. “They have to be lucky all the time; a terrorist only has to get lucky once.”

“Why would anyone want to kill me?” said Douglas, plaintively. “I’ve made it clear I want to be a good King, for all my people. Justice for all, just like when I was a Paragon. Who could object to that?”

“I can have the computers print out a list, if you’re really interested,” said Anne. “Mostly the same people whose arses you used to kick as Paragon, plus all the people on all sides of the political spectrum with vested interests in maintaining the status quo. Then there’s the ELFs, the Hellfire Club, the Shadow Court . . .”

“All right, all right,” said Douglas, holding up his hands in defeat. “I get the point.”

“Good,” said Anne. “Now forget about all that, and concentrate on the more immediate problem of winning over and/or intimidating the MPs. And bear in mind there’s going to be an absolutely huge media presence in the House today. Most of them just gagging for a chance to make you look bad, in revenge for your father denying them access to your Coronation. ‘King does reasonably well on first day’ isn’t going to make the headlines. ‘King screws up royally!’ That’s news. So don’t give them ammunition to use against you.”

Douglas grimaced. “Wonderful. More complications. I’ll be glad when we’ve got all this media stuff out of the way, and I can get down to some real work.”

Jesamine and Anne looked at each other again, and as always Anne bit the bullet. “Douglas; this media stuff
is
the real work. You can reach more people, persuade more people, through the media than you can any other way. The MPs will respond more to public interest, and public pressure, than they will to any amount of reasoned debate. Get the people by their hearts, or their balls, and their minds will follow. Get the people behind you, and you’ll have the power to do what needs doing.”