It was such a relief to be rid of them.
It wasn't without challenges, though. He had to make a speech before all the commanding officers and the junior brothers, convince them that the Brotherhood was in good hands and heading in the right direction, and appoint replacements.
He had practiced the grieving expression in the mirror this morning, and he'd been satisfied with his performance. Acting was easy for him. After all, he'd been acting as the dutiful son to a tyrant for two thousand years while looking after his own interests.
As the convoy emerged on the military side, the change in the landscape was stark. Instead of the beauty of the resort with its manicured palms and bougainvillea, this side was all aboutfunction. Training grounds, vehicle depots, and low buildings that housed armories and the communications centers.
The road curved toward a low structure that looked almost ordinary from the outside. There were three levels of concrete set into the slope of a hill, with vehicle bays at ground level and personnel entrances on the upper ones.
That was the surface part. The bulk of the complex was underground, and that was where the meeting would be held.
The barracks had been built nearly a century ago, before air conditioning had made the surface of the island bearable. The underground configuration had served a triple purpose. It shielded the soldiers from the brutal heat, hid them from passing ships, and later, from passing aircraft, and made the barracks more defensible against attack.
After leaving the vehicles in their designated area, Losham and his entourage headed inside.
The corridors were lit by overhead panels and lined with doors leading to offices, briefing rooms, and the various administrative spaces that supported the army. Losham had not visited this section in months.
He'd chosen the largest hall in the entire military complex for today's meeting, and even that might not be large enough.
When they reached it, the set of heavy double doors was open, and through it he could see the three-story-high hall that was carved out of the rock with reinforced supports along the walls. It had been designed to hold a thousand men comfortably and twice that number in a crowded configuration.
Today it would be crowded.
The seating had been arranged in tiered rows facing a raised platform at the front that held a podium, a long table for the most senior officers, and a row of chairs that had been set up to accommodate the eight junior brothers in the order of their seniority. Behind the platform, the wall bore the symbol of the Brotherhood, two sickle swords crossed at the handle with the disk of eternity between them, projected onto the rock in a way that made it visible from every seat in the hall.
Losham stopped at the entrance and surveyed the room, which was full to the brim.
The officers had been waiting for him in starched uniforms and formal postures, eager to put on their best face for the new acting head of the Brotherhood.
Their attention shifted toward him, two thousand sets of eyes focusing on him.
Showtime.
Losham took a breath and walked down the central aisle.
The hall went silent. Not all at once, but in a wave that moved outward from the doorway as the officers nearest to him registered his entrance and the silence rippled across the rows. By the time he reached the front, the only sound in the hall was his light footsteps on the polished stone floor and the heavier footsteps of his personal guard behind him.
He climbed the steps to the platform and stood next to his place at the center of the long table, with the row of chairs for the junior brothers to his right and the podium directly in front of him.
The eight junior brothers had been seated when he'd entered, and they hadn't stood to honor him, which had been a calculated breach of protocol on their part.
They would have risen for his father, and they would have risen for Kolhood.
He registered the message they were sending, and he would address it later.
The juniors were arranged from left to right in the order of their nominal seniority, which had been determined by Navuh.
Zorath, the most senior of the eight, had a face that gave nothing away, but he was coolheaded and reasonably reliable, which meant that he'd never been caught scheming against anyone. In the Brotherhood, that was as good as it got.
Horek had served as the head of intelligence under Hocken, and he would have to be watched.
Koshan had been Kolhood's deputy on certain logistics matters. He was competent and ambitious, and he would also have to be watched.
Bokev was basically a brute and posed no strategic threat.
Mazlen was restless and ambitious, and the one most likely to make a move.
Modak was a follower, not a leader. He would toe the line.
