"Why did the High Commander send messengers to the Pelipu?" Solis demanded.
"We were not informed," the man in the center answered.
"The Red Ritual for the god was performed in Windle," the one on the right offered. That had Solis and Desmun both growling. I had to
Look
to see what that meant, and it almost made me growl, too. They had a target in mind. Someone that they could accuse of heresy or worse, and the ritual cleansed them from any responsibility for the torture and murder later. I wanted to hold my head—I felt a headache coming on. What new stupidity was this? Only it wasn't likely new stupidity. I figured it was an old, traditional stupidity. Amazing, isn't it, how some people will rationalize anything to get what they want?
"What shall we do with this scum?" Solis asked.
"I don't think the High Commander will come looking for them, do you?" the General looked at his Captains.
"No. He won't even ask about them," Desmun smiled grimly. The three men began to sweat, even in the cold, clammy air.
"Do it," the General jerked his head toward the tent's entrance. The spies were hauled away. I was thankful that I'd been left behind to guard the General. I wasn't fond of executions.
"Can I depend on you to let me know if anything else comes our way tonight?" The General asked me.
"Of course, sir," I nodded.
"You earned your pay tonight," the General said. "I'd like to go back to bed. You can turn in early tomorrow, if you want."
I nodded again and went toward my portion of the tent.
* * *
Belen studied the one who stood on the other side of his desk—the desk that Belen made to appear every time he chose corporeality. It had been several lifetimes—as humanoids measured time—since he'd had this one standing before him. "This is your choice, then? You have all the information?"
"Of course."
"I will be watching," Belen added.
"I understand completely."
Belen watched as the other disappeared.
* * *
The HC's eyes were on us whenever we weren't looking during breakfast the following morning. I'm sure he was wondering what had happened to his little band of assassins, but he would have to keep on wondering. The fog was still thick and would cause problems as we made our way up the mountain toward the pass. I could find my way easily enough but was thankful that the General was familiar with the territory and knew where he was going. The HC would have been hopelessly lost after five minutes.
The fog did cause problems; we didn't travel a third of the planned distance before the HC was forced to call a halt—the General had sent two messages during the day, both asking to halt and camp until the fog cleared. The tents were set up and the cooks had set about preparing an early meal when the messenger arrived at our tent.
"Message for the General. I was instructed to hand it to him personally," the boy said, holding the rolled-up paper back as I reached for it.
"What the hell for?" The General came through the slit in the canvas that separated his portion of the tent from mine. I didn't scent any taint about the boy, but I still watched him closely when the General came forward, his hand held out for the message.
"I was instructed to wait for a reply," the boy dipped his head respectfully to the General. The General looked briefly at the boy—he couldn't be more than seventeen—by his scent, anyway. He looked older, as if he'd been through too much already, and only expected more of the same from his life. The seal on the rolled-up message was broken and the General opened it to read. He seemed a bit angry afterward, motioning the boy into his section of the tent to write a reply. He hadn't asked me to accompany him so I stayed where I was, listening carefully in case I needed to assist the General in any way. My help wasn't needed and the boy walked out a scant three minutes later, a freshly sealed message in his hand.
"We'll be entertaining guests after dinner," the General said, coming out again. His face looked worried, though. I nodded.
Chapter 6
Thurlow Burghin stood before the Minister for Defense, who was in charge of the Alliance armies, their spies, investigators, military tribunals and any other thing that might keep the Alliance safe and adhering to the law. Thurlow wasn't particularly handsome, not as some measured it, anyway. He had thick, black hair, gray eyes, a slightly crooked nose and lips that were full and nearly sensuous. They were his best feature, according to the three female secretaries who'd passed him through office after office, from one ranking officer to the next, until he reached the Minister for Defense.
"Your record is impeccable," the Minister noted, setting the handheld computer on his desk. The Minister was in his sixties—still young for this day and time upon any number of Alliance worlds. "And the Founder has personally approved your assignment to Le-Ath Veronis."
"Thank you sir," Thurlow nodded respectfully.
"We need someone to act as Liaison with Le-Ath Veronis," the Minister sighed. "We are getting more and more arrests from there—people who have been hired by the remnants of Solar Red, all trying their best to gather information to send back to those murderous fanatics. I want someone on the ground, there, to hear those confessions firsthand. I want this stopped before it can start, do you understand? Our newest monarch, on our newest Alliance world, is being threatened, and I'm sure I don't have to tell you that Le-Ath Veronis is padding the Alliance coffers right now."
"I understand that, sir," Thurlow nodded slightly. "Why do we need someone there, though?"
The Minister rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably. "Rumors have reached me, and those above me, even, that if the present Queen dies, all except the comesuli will be forced from the planet. You've read the information on Kifirin?"
"The planet or the demigod?" Thurlow asked.
"The god part," the Minister breathed a sigh. "He has been heard to say that if Queen Lissa dies, the others will be forced off the planet, except for the comesuli. That means the revenue that we are currently enjoying from Le-Ath Veronis will cease, and gambling will once more be done on non-Alliance worlds, more than likely. You understand, now, why we have an interest in all this? We very much wish to keep the Queen alive, by any means necessary. That is why we want to send one of our best. You are our eyes and ears. You will report directly to us, so we may see how urgent the matter is and take appropriate measures."
"Of course, sir. I understand." Thurlow didn't even twitch at the news. The Minister wanted to sigh again—his spies and undercover agents could all hide their expressions—quite well, in fact. They'd been trained in it, after all.
"You won't be undercover so much there; I've informed them that you are coming, in an effort to keep everyone apprised. We are obligated to keep all our Alliance leaders alive, after all."
Thurlow wanted to smile. Those leaders were kept alive as long as they agreed with the general consensus among the Grand Alliance Council. Assistance might come a little slower if the leader disagreed too loudly with the Founder and the twenty Charter Members that made up the Grand Alliance Council. "How quickly should I pack, sir?" Thurlow asked, a slight smile playing across his lips.
"Right away. I want you on a ship tonight. Passage is already booked. I'd provide an assistant, but I'm hoping that they'll do that for you. Ask when you arrive. Let me know if that request is denied."
"I will, sir." Thurlow dipped his head and turned to go.
* * *
"Now is the time I wish Lissa were here, just to deal with this," Tony grumbled. The Alliance was sending a Liaison, while he and Gavin were scheduled to follow Paulin, their little artistic spy, off world to Hraede. Paulin's employer, Ibbitt, might have connections to Solar Red, and Tony and Gavin were going after him. Lynx offered to come along, claiming a bit of boredom since he'd retired from the Saa Thalarr. Gavin was doing his best to be pragmatic about the Alliance sending in one of their own.
"It's only a bureaucrat," Gavin replied. "He'll follow others around and make a nuisance of himself, more than likely. Erland, Aurelius and Gardevik have already offered to keep him entertained and out of our hair while we tend to actual business. Flavio, too, has offered to help."
"But he's coming in right before we leave," Tony wasn't done, yet.
"Anthony, let us save this discussion for later," Gavin said.
* * *
"Child, we will be entertaining a guest this evening, at the palace," Flavio informed Roff. "Please dress appropriately."
Roff set his book down. He hadn't read much before, but now he found he had a fascination with it. Flavio's library was extensive and Roff's interests were wide and varied. He was currently reading a rather large book on the Ancient Greeks. Flavio smiled at Roff's choice and wondered if it might not hurt to have Roff point his inevitable questions in Wlodek's direction.
"I will wear my gray pinstripe," Roff smiled at his vampire sire.
"That will be fine," Flavio agreed. Flavio was worried, however. How were they going to explain to the Alliance representative that Lissa was missing? The media was already making their usual conjectures, since no interviews had been granted and there'd been no sightings.
The Council meetings, which had been televised at first for informational purposes on Le-Ath Veronis, were now fed to all Alliance worlds and there was quite a fan base. Many across the Alliance tuned in to see if Lissa caught any criminals. Many hoped to see her fangs and wrote reams of fan mail to that effect. Since Aurelius and Gardevik had been handling the meetings, the usual rumors spread.
The thing that Flavio appreciated the most, however, was the renewed friendship with Aurelius and the increasing friendship with Gardevik, the High Demon Prime Minister. Flavio had come to respect him greatly. Some of the Council's vampires might have gotten their way by applying pressure in the past, but that didn't work with Gardevik. In fact, all he had to do was sit there, staring them down and allowing a bit of smoke to curl from his nostrils. That generally restored order. Aurelius, too, was used to that sort of thing, but employed a different tactic; pointing out any flaw a plan might have with gentle thoroughness. Few of them knew what a sleeping giant Aurelius truly was. Flavio was one of the few still alive who'd seen Aurelius fight.
* * *
"I thought perhaps the Queen might come and greet me," Thurlow smiled at Erland's discomfiture. Erland had been elected to go to the space station and meet the representative for the Alliance. Thurlow was well aware that the Queen seemed to be on yet another of her sabbaticals.
"I am sorry to disappoint," Erland sounded gracious, even if he truly wasn't. "Our Queen could not be here at the moment. Nevertheless, your welcome is most assured. Come, I will take you to the palace and show you to your suite. I'm sure you are weary of traveling. You are also invited to a formal dinner later, with members of the Council from Lissia."
Thurlow followed Erland while two vampires lifted his bags easily and came behind.
* * *
The mess tent was the meeting location of choice, and the sides of the tent had been lowered for privacy. I followed the General as he strode angrily toward the tent. The HC and his seven murderous minions were already there. All six of the General's Captains were also there, sitting apart from the HC and his guards. I'd been sent to deliver messages to this one or that, and to gather messages while the General and the Captains had one of their usual, secret meetings after the HC's message had come. When I got back, it was already over. I had no desire to hear any of it, to be honest. I should have been more curious.
"Sit here, Liss," the General sighed, pointing to a seat, front and center. That shocked me. The HC grinned at my surprise. Well,
Looking
sounded like a good thing to do right about then, and what I found had me pissed. In the past, I might have been frightened, or a little shaky, at least. Not this time. If these things masquerading as religious representatives thought they might have the advantage in this situation, then they needed to think again.
"We are here to levy charges," the HC intoned as he unrolled a heavy, parchment scroll. "We charge that Liss, bodyguard for General Hardin Wolf, is in actuality a demon in disguise. We intend to prove this over the course of the evening, with tried and true methods developed by our most holy brothers in Ialus." Well, that sounded like torture to me. "What say you to the charges, demon?" The HC folded the scroll up and gave me a hard stare.
"I'm not a demon," I shrugged.
"We intend to prove it," he snapped coldly.
"You can try to prove it for the rest of your life, but it'll still be untrue," I said. "I'm not a demon, and anyone who has actually seen a demon would agree."
Solis was trying to get my attention by making minute gestures with his hand, but he could save the effort. I was done with these guys.
"Are you saying that you have seen demons?" The HC was nearly chortling. I was falling right into his trap.
"Oh, yeah," I nodded. "I can think of one in particular who'd have your head twisted right off your body if he were here. Would you like for me to invite him in?"