revelation?'
The Duchess looked him in the eye for the briefest of moments, defiance flashing across her face, then the flame left them and her head dropped.
'No,' Courtenay said, 'I thought not.'
He nodded to the guards to take the Duchess away, and as they dragged the woman from the chamber, Courtenay thought that he could hear her sobbing.
43
The Sixth Day of Fall,
Imperial Tear 2332
Courtenay leaned over the table in the candlelight, looking down at the map of the Commonwealth stretched out before him. He allowed his finger to slowly trace a route from White Haven, along the Great Road, and through the pass in the mountains that formed, for the moment at least, the border with the Empire. His finger stopped as it reached Brunswick.
'How many men in total did you say we have?' He looked up from the chart, scanning his General's face.
'In the region of one hundred and ten thousand, Your Majesty,' General Hamand replied.
Hamand's uniform was immaculate, from the red tunic with its gold edging, to the medals positioned perfectly on his left breast. The creases in his trousers could have cut steel, and the handle of his sword gleamed as is projected from the top of its black leather scabbard.
Courtenay frowned. 'Is that enough? Surely the standing army is more than that?'
'Barely, your majesty,' Hamand said. 'We have been at peace for a very long time and there has been no need for anything larger. As it is, it leaves us only around twenty five thousand men each at the north and south borders, for defence.'
'Commit those troops also.' Courtenay's eyes flicked back to the map.
'But that would leave us undefended at the other borders,' the General pointed to the two points on the map, 'here, in Tyrillis, and also here, in Salavar.'
Courtenay looked up at the man. 'Don't defy me, General. Just do it.'
'Yes, Your Majesty.' Hamand shifted uncomfortably.
'It will be the biggest army of invasion that the world has ever seen,' Courtenay smiled, 'probably.'
'And the objective, Your Majesty?'
'To take New Brunswick of course. He who holds the city of Brunswick, controls the pass through the mountains, General, and the whole of the Province itself.'
'It will be difficult to take the city, Your Majesty. It will be well defended. The wars of old suggest that the city can be defended successfully with no more than thirty thousand men.'
Courtenay looked up at the soldier, throwing him a look full of unspoken threats and warnings of what might happen if the invasion did not succeed. 'You will have five times that number, General. Difficult or not, you will ensure that the city is taken. Do you understand?'
'Perfectly, Your Majesty.'
'And how soon can you commit the troops?'
'I would say another month to prepare them and for them to reach the border, by foot.'
'You jest, surely?'
'No, Your Majesty.'
'We do not have a month, General.'
'I cannot see how we can make it faster, Your Majesty. They can only travel so fast.'
Courtenay detected a look of worry passing across the General's face. 'How many are already at the border?' he asked.
'Around fifty-five thousand, Sire. The rest are on their way.'
Courtenay nodded. Enough for an expeditionary force, certainly, but not enough to get bogged down at Brunswick's walls. Most likely Frederick would already be reinforcing the border, to counter just this eventuality. He placed his hand on the map and tapped his finger on Brunswick.
'It must happen quickly,' he said. 'Every day that passes allows the Emperor to grow his strength.'
Hamand nodded.
Courtenay could feel how close he was. His destiny was approaching fast, and there could be only one outcome. He pondered for a moment. 'Bring me a detailed plan of how you propose to take the city, General. By the end of tomorrow.'
Hamand clicked his heels together and then turned, marching out of the office.
Courtenay had his doubts about the man and whether his quality would enable him to prosecute the invasion. What choice did he have though? This country had bred a race of pen-pusher warriors. These were not the heroes of the old days that he truly needed.
Conn stepped out of the shadows, sauntering across to the desk, himself looking down at the map. 'That is a lot of bodies to bury,' he said, 'even if it does turn out that most of them are the Emperor's concern. I hope Hamand's plan proves to be good enough.'
'It had better be,' Courtenay said, 'for his sake. His life depends on it.'
Conn nodded. 'How does it feel to be all powerful?' he asked.
If there was any sarcasm in Conn's voice then Courtenay could not detect it.
'If this is how God feels,' he said, 'then I like it.' He smiled. 'Except of course, I doubt he has to worry about having to cover his back all the time.'
'True enough,' Conn replied.
'Why do you ask?'
'Because I wonder whether there will come a time when even I have outstayed my welcome.'
'That will never happen, at least not as long as you do as I ask,' Courtenay said. 'But enough of this, we have wasted enough time already and I have a job for you.'
'Another job?'
'Well three, actually.'
Conn nodded. 'Doing?'
'Get rid of our guests?'
'You mean the children?'
'Yes.' Courtenay knew that Conn had been dreading this moment, and could detect the wince the man showed on his face as he heard the words. 'What? You're developing a conscience now?'
'I'm not a child killer, and you know it.'
'Get someone else to do it then. What's that fellows name that you promoted?' He clicked his fingers as he tried to think of the man's name.
'Smyth.'
Courtenay nodded. 'Tell Smyth to do it? Or perhaps you think he doesn't have the balls.'
'Well if he doesn't,' Conn replied, 'then he's a dead man.'
That's better! Courtenay thought. For a moment, he had begun to wonder about Conn too.
'It's amazing what a little threat will accomplish, especially if the words are chosen correctly.' Courtenay's grin was wide. 'Let me know when it is done.'
'I will.' Conn fidgeted. 'You said there were three jobs?'
'Yes, I did.' Courtenay folded his arms. This was all coming together nicely, he thought. Just one more hurdle, and then the people of the Commonwealth would be without a pilot, or more accurately, no pilot other than himself. Then they'd need him more than ever. He looked into Conn's eyes, trying to detect any reaction to his commands.
'After you've removed our guests,' he said, 'I'll need you to kill their parents too.'
Conn nodded. 'That's two jobs,' he said. 'And the third is?'
'The most important.' Courtenay raised his face looking into the eyes of his second. 'Kill Ysabel.'
44
The Seventh Day of Fall,
Imperial Year 2332
Rampton held his mug with both hands, watching the swirling steam rising from the surface of the strong black coffee. The tavern was quiet, and other than the two of them there was only one other patron.
He looked up at Marek and sighed. 'Tell, me again,' he said, 'how man men do we have?'
'Four,' Marek said.
'Four?' He could still hardly believe his ears.
'Including myself.'
'Well that's just wonderful,' Rampton said, unable to hide his sarcasm.
'And you.'
Rampton shook his head. 'Then it's hopeless.'
'We're a surveillance unit,' Marek replied, 'not an army of invasion.'
'I know,' Rampton said, 'but I'd hoped that we might call on more.'
Marek shook his head. 'Nope. That's all we have, four, including Winterburne, but he's with the children, so doesn't count.'
The barkeep approached the table and replaced the empty jug with another, full of the steaming liquid.
'Thank you, Dav
yd,' Marek said, looking up at the man. 'Is there any more news?'
Davyd pulled out a chair and turned it around, sitting straddled, leaning his arms over the back. 'It seems that the Queen has been moved to the Palace dungeons, as we suspected she would be, but the word from some of the guards is that she has been placed in the condemned cells.'
'She is to be executed, then?' Rampton asked. 'It would certainly fit the way that Courtenay works. Is there any news as to when?'
'None,' Davyd said, 'but I wouldn't bet against it being quiet and unannounced.'
'Then we have to break her out.' Marek looked thoughtful. 'Soon.'
'Just the three of us?' Rampton asked. Both he and Marek looked at Davyd. 'Against how many guards?'
The barkeep shrugged. 'Two hundred, I'd guess.'
'And there's something else you should know, John.' Marek's face was serious.
'What? More bad news?'
'That total of four,' Marek winced, 'it included Davyd, here. So when you take him and Winterburne out of the reckoning then it leaves only the two of us.'
Rampton looked at the pot of coffee and sighed. He reached out for the handle, lifting it and pouring more into first his mug, and then into Marek's.
'I like a challenge as much as the next man,' he said, 'but I reckon we'll need something a little bit stronger than just coffee running through our veins if we are to get her out.'
oOo
'I don't suppose you have any idea how we're actually going to get into the Palace,' Rampton asked, 'then get out again with the Queen in tow?'
He followed along behind Marek as the man marched up the road towards the second of the three bridges that led across to the innermost island.
'One thing's for sure,' Marek said, turning to look back, 'we won't be able to get much closer.' He looked up ahead, towards the Royal Circle. 'At least not without the necessary written permissions, we'll be moved on faster