Deathstalker Legacy (49 page)

Michel du Bois entered with his usual practiced dignity, dressed in his very best for the upcoming day’s Session. He bowed low to Anne, before pulling up a chair and sitting down opposite her without asking permission first. He smiled at Anne. She didn’t smile back. He’d only take it as a sign of weakness. Whatever it was he wanted, it had to be something he couldn’t get anywhere else. Du Bois arranged his formal robes fussily, and met Anne’s gaze with something very like sincerity.

“Virimonde has chosen a new Paragon,” he said bluntly. “A highly proficient young man with excellent prospects, called Stuart Lennox. Comes from a good family, has a fine record as one of Virimonde’s peacekeepers, and not a trace of scandal anywhere about him. A bit glum and humorless perhaps, and he’ll need some coaching before we can turn him loose in front of the media, but he’s solid, dependable, and a canny fighter. Just what we need to represent our homeworld before the Empire. He’ll arrive here for his investiture somewhen next week, just in time for the Royal Wedding.”

“Why are you telling me?” said Anne. “I don’t work with Paragons.”

“Virimonde is your homeworld,” said du Bois, just a little sternly. “I thought you’d be interested. Particularly since of late you’ve become somewhat . . . distanced from the previous Paragon.”

“Ah,” said Anne, nodding wisely. “So that’s it. It always comes down to Lewis in the end, blast his soul. What have you heard, du Bois? What do you think you know? And what makes you think I might give a damn what you might or might not know?”

Du Bois spread his arms wide in an expansive gesture, and tried to look innocent. He wasn’t especially successful. He was a politician, after all. “It’s clear to everyone, inside and outside the House, that you and the Deathstalker are no longer as close as you once were. And since the King has also been taking some pains to publicly distance himself from his Champion of late, it doesn’t take a genius to work out that something significant must have happened. Lewis . . . has made many mistakes of judgement since becoming Champion. Separating himself from his friends, and those who would be his friends. Disgracing himself, through his actions during the Neuman riot. Most important, failing to be the Champion everyone wanted . . . The Deathstalker is no longer a credit to our homeworld.”

“Is that why you cut off his stipend?” said Anne.

“He was no longer entitled to those monies. The allowance will go to Stuart Lennox, who will no doubt be much more . . . appreciative. Don’t mistake me, Anne. It pains me to see the Deathstalker brought so low, it really does, but he brought it upon himself by his own actions.”

“I’m busy,” said Anne, coldly. “What do you want from me, du Bois?”

“It occurred to me that you, as one of the Deathstalker’s oldest and closest friends, might be able to shed some light on why dear Lewis has been acting so out of character just lately.”

“He’s just going through a bad time,” Anne said evenly. “We all do.”

“But if you knew something . . . private, something personal . . .”

“I’d have more sense than to discuss it with you. Stay away from Lewis, du Bois. That’s my advice to you. Stick to pulling your new Paragon’s strings. You try and push Lewis around, even in his present state, and he’ll eat you alive. Now if that’s all, I have work to do.”

Michel du Bois rose gracefully to his feet, his expression professionally neutral, untouched by Anne’s harsh words. “I can see this isn’t the right time to discuss these matters. Your support for your friend does you credit, Anne, it really does; but I feel I would be failing in my duty as your homeworld’s representative if I didn’t warn you of the dangers involved if you persist in this attitude.”

Anne leaned back in her chair and smiled nastily. She was always happiest when the threat came out into the open. “Dangers, du Bois? Why, whatever can you mean? I’m not aware of any dangers.”

“Lewis is on his way out,” du Bois said flatly. “He’s going to fall, and he’s going to fall fast. Anyone can see that. It would be such a shame if he was to bring his friends down with him. Especially when all they had to do was reach out and take the hand of a new friend.”

“You never had a friend in your life, du Bois.”

“Perhaps. But I have always understood the value of an ally. There was a time when you would have too.”

Michel du Bois left while Anne was still trying to come up with an answer to that one, closing the door quietly behind him. Anne scowled fiercely, and swiveled her chair angrily back and forth. For all her (justified) dislike of the man, she had to admit that his words had seemed more like a warning than a threat. But why would he care? They’d never been close, personally or politically. Perhaps he just thought that having two highly placed and very visible natives of Virimonde brought low would reflect badly on his world. Whatever else you could say about him, and Anne had said a lot in her time, du Bois had always been a patriot. Anne decided she’d better take a serious look at the new Paragon’s background. See if there was anything there she ought to know about.

There was another knock at the door. Anne sighed heavily. Some days people just wouldn’t let her brood in peace. She checked the hall monitor screen again, and there was Jesamine Flowers, looking very beautiful and almost unbearably glamorous, holding a large box tied up with pink ribbon. Anne studied the screen for a long moment. Beware Queens-to-be, bearing gifts. Especially when they’ve been caught red-handed betraying their husbands-to-be. Anne composed herself, and called for her old friend to come in.

The door flew open, and Jesamine bustled in, full of life and airy chatter, as though nothing had happened. She slammed the door shut behind her with a practiced flick of her back heel, pushed the present into Anne’s arms, kissed the air near her cheeks, and threw herself into the chair du Bois had just vacated. All without once hesitating, betraying any awkwardness, or pausing for breath. Jesamine had always known how to make an entrance.

“Well, open the box, darling!” she said brightly. “It’s just a little pressie, to smooth the way between us. You’re going to simply adore it! Go on, open it, sweetie! It won’t bite.”

Anne undid the large floppy pink bow, and carefully put the length of pink ribbon to one side. She collected things like that. She never knew when they might come in useful. She opened the long box, dropping the lid on the floor beside her chair, and there in the box was a gorgeous gown of shimmering silver. Perhaps the most beautiful dress Anne had ever seen. Glamorous, stylish, a product of the very best designer label, and undoubtedly worth more than Anne made in a year. A dress to make any woman look like a Queen. And nothing Anne would ever wear. Would ever dare to wear. Anne’s fingers trailed lovingly over the sheer, marvelous material, almost in spite of herself. It felt like a kiss on her fingertips. It was without a doubt the finest dress Anne had ever known, and she wanted nothing more than to screw it up into a ball and throw it back in Jesamine’s face. To scream at her in rage and shame, for not knowing Anne would never, ever be able to wear a thing like this. Jesamine chattered on, oblivious.

“I came across this in my wardrobe, and thought of you immediately. It’s one of my favorite gowns, from when I was playing Kate in
Taming of the Shrew.
It always brought me good luck, and I’m sure it will do the same for you.”

“Well,” said Anne, pulling her hand back from the material. “It’s been a while since I was offered hand-me-downs. What next, Jes? Some old pair of shoes, with the heels hardly worn down? Or maybe half a box of chocolates you couldn’t be bothered to finish?”

Jesamine pouted sulkily. “Why are you being like this, Anne? I came here to kiss and make up. I want us to be friends again.”

“Why am I being like this? It has to be my fault, doesn’t it, never yours? Are you really that blind, that self-obsessed? You jeopardize the Royal Wedding, betray Douglas and infatuate Lewis, and you wonder why I’m being like this? Grow up, Jes! This isn’t some backstage romance, some brief fling for the gossip magazines to twitter over! This is treason, Jes. I should never have put your name forward in the first place. I should have known you’d screw it up.”

“Look, I said I was sorry! I said it wouldn’t happen again! What more do you want me to do?”

“I want you to be loyal to Douglas. I want you to act like a Queen-in-waiting, not some stuck-up tart with an itch in her panties. I want you to leave Lewis alone! It’s not like he means anything to you. I know you, Jes.”

“No you don’t. You don’t know me at all. Lewis is . . . special.”

“Yes. Yes, he is. He deserves better than you. He doesn’t understand this is all just a game to you. I don’t want him hurt. So stay away from him. He doesn’t need you in his life.”

“He needs someone.”

“He needs someone who’ll care for him!” Anne said hotly. “Someone who’ll care about him. Not just use him because he’s there, and then throw him aside like a snotty tissue. Like you’ve done with so many others before him.”

“That’s not fair. It wasn’t like that. Lewis is different . . .”

“That’s right. Lewis is different, from you and me. He knows the meaning of duty, and of honor. Or at least he used to, before he met you. If you have any feelings for him at all, leave him alone. Before you destroy him completely. He’s a good man. You’re not worthy of him.”

Jesamine erupted up out of her chair, her cheeks blazing, vicious unforgivable words trembling on her lips; words that could never be taken back, or apologized for. Words that would mean the end of her oldest friendship. She stood there breathing heavily for a moment, and somehow choked the words down. But she had nothing else to say, so she turned and stormed out of Anne’s office, away from her accusing eyes, slamming the door behind her as hard as she could. And there in the corridor, heading straight for her, was Lewis Deathstalker.

Part of her wanted to turn and run, but she didn’t. Jesamine stood her ground as Lewis walked up to her, and stopped right in front of her. She was breathing hard, her heart hammering in her breast. Their eyes met, and all their good intentions went for nothing. They’d kept apart from each other, each hoping the madness would pass, but it hadn’t. All it took was the sight of each other, and their hearts raced. Deny it as they would, they were meant to be together; and neither King nor Parliament, duty nor honor, could keep them apart.

“What are you doing here, Lewis?” Jesamine said finally, her voice strained by the effort involved in seeming casual.

“I came to see Anne,” said Lewis. “Looking for something to do. Someone to talk to. How have you been, Jes? You look good.”

“Fine. I’ve been fine. You look good too.”

“No I don’t,” said Lewis, smiling just a little. “I’m famous for not looking good.”

“You look good to me,” said Jesamine.

“He’s my friend, Jes.”

“I know.”

And suddenly they were kissing again, bodies pressed tight together, as though trying to become one person, that could never be parted. While in her lonely office, Anne watched them kiss on her monitor screen, her clenched hands full of the material of the marvelous dress.

 

King Douglas sat stiffly on his great Throne in the House of Parliament, nodding graciously to the various honorable Members as they assembled to take their Seats. There weren’t as many as usual, or even as many as he’d hoped for. Attendance was well down on what he’d expected. Most hadn’t even bothered to attend by holo. Probably they were scared. The House was going to have to discuss the problem of Pure Humanity and the Church Militant soon, but none of the honorable Members wanted to commit themselves publicly to one position or another until they absolutely had to. Public opinion was vacillating wildly, and their representatives were running scared.

Douglas sat on his Throne and felt very exposed, very alone. He wished Jesamine was at his side. He wondered briefly what was keeping her. It couldn’t be anything important, or Anne would have briefed him by now over his private comm channel. He shifted uncomfortably. He didn’t want to be here, didn’t want to be doing this. Presiding over a Session that no one cared about, when so many things were going wrong; in the city, all over Logres, all across the Empire. The influence of the Church Militant was spreading like a disease, infecting world after world. The gospel of Pure Humanity was taking hold on planets he would have sworn had more sense, or at least more decency. And now there were scattered reports coming in of Neuman fanatics killing Ecstatics in the streets. The most harmless creatures in the Empire, being hunted down like animals. The Paragon in Douglas seethed within him, demanding he go out into the city and do . . . something. Something to stop the madness.

Finally the House reached a point where everybody who was coming was there, and the Session at last got under way. No one mentioned the missing Champion, or Jesamine, just as no one mentioned Douglas threatening to give up his Crown, during the Neuman riot. He was back on the Throne, wearing the Crown, so no one said anything. Everyone just pretended it had never happened. The House could be very good at that, when it chose. The day’s business passed smoothly enough, with little need for Douglas to intervene. Until finally he got the chance to raise the one matter he really cared about; his own plan to snatch a little sanity back from the ever-increasing madness.

“I propose a great Parade of Paragons through the city,” he said, and everyone listened politely. “Since most of the Empire’s Paragons are still assembled in this city, awaiting the Royal Wedding, let’s take this opportunity to fete them as they deserve. To celebrate their achievements, as heroes of the Empire. Finn Durandal came up with the idea originally, and presented it to me, and I think it’s a good one. It gives us a chance to reestablish the popularity of the Paragons and their authority. Show the city, and Logres, and the Empire, that this House and this Crown still stand one hundred percent behind the Paragons.