“Thank you,” I said, undoing my shirt buttons. When I stood to take off my dress trousers, Wiktor turned down the sheets, and when I gratefully crawled in, he dimmed the window.
“Sleep well, Captain,” he said as he closed the door.
“You, too,” I replied, forgetting it was morning and he would be awake for eighteen hours yet.
A moment later, Wiktor’s gentle touch on my shoulder woke me. “Captain, it’s time you were awake. You’ll miss dinner if you stay in bed any longer.”
“Dinner?” I scrabbled for my chronometer. “It’s morning.”
Wiktor kept his voice low and professional. “You’ve been asleep for ten hours, Captain. It’s quarter past sixteen.”
I stared at the digital readout. He was right. Four hours past midday, and dammit, it felt like I hadn’t slept more than ten minutes.
Grumpily, I levered myself into a sitting position. I felt grimy. “Suppose I’d better shower.” Standing, I asked, “What did I miss?”
“Count Gerasimov won the melee, although it came down to him and Archduke Darius in the end.”
“What about the politics?” I asked as hot water battered my aching muscles into compliance.
“Prince Aureli has been trying to reassemble a working diplomatic coalition all day,” Wiktor replied. “The lords commander demand reparations for Von Potiorek’s death, and the Emperor threatened to evict the entire Despotate delegation from the palace if they continue pestering her.”
“What about our other allies?” I asked. “The League? The Federation?”
“The League is divided, as always. Stelsylvania supports the Commonwealth position, but most governments in exile have sided with the Urgan Despotate. They want revenge.As for the Federation, they’ve been remarkably coy about their objectives this entire event. I can’t prove anything, but I heard from a servant in the Federation’s employ that they don’t care about the fate of their allies so long as they get a sweet deal for themselves.”
I grunted. “I can’t imagine a better deal than peace. They’ve been the bankers of the Alliance and the ‘arsenal of freedom’ for ten years now. End the war here, and they walk away with all those profits and unspoiled star systems for minimal casualties.”
Wiktor pursed his lips. “There are rumors the Federation will ask for territorial concessions from their allies, rewards for good service.”
“Where?” I asked, shocked by this news.
“The Urgan Despotate. Portions of the League. Places where Federation soldiers actually fought the Empire.”
“That’s tasteless of them,” I said, considering a star map in my mind. The Federation had launched a counteroffensive after the Empire invaded their space, not to push back the Imperial incursion, but to occupy lightly defended former Urgan worlds and ‘liberate’ some of the richest star systems in the League. Only once they’d dug in on those profitable planets had they devoted their energy towards throwing back the invader and called their allies to help.
“The clever bastards,” I said. “Well, it all may be for naught. You never know what the Imps will do.”
“Right you are, sir. Better take these.” He handed me a belt with my two blades. I accepted them with a nod and buckled them on.
When I emerged in the Great Hall, I found things much as Wiktor described. There was a tension in the air not present in previous evenings. The Despotate officers looked ready to riot, and several League princes and princesseswere with them. The Federation magnates stood aloof, and Commonwealth diplomats scurried between them, trying to create a compromise. Meanwhile, the Imperial nobles were delighted by the poorly concealed spectacle.
And seated above it all was Astrid, the Emperor, holding court over the chaos.
I needed a drink.
Archduke Darius intercepted me before I could reach the bar. “Levar. I’m so glad I found you. Not showing up at the tournament, you gave us all a fright.”
“I’m surprised anybody noticed,” I said, gesturing the bartender over. “Two whiskeys, neat. Three fingers.”
“Thank you, Levar, but I’m not much of a whiskey man,” Darius replied.
“Who said I got one for you?” The whiskeys came, and I took the first one down in a single gulp. The second followed quickly after, and I ordered two more.
“Steady on, there,” Darius said, concern knitting his brow. “You’ll get yourself tight.”
“I want to get tight,” I replied. “It’s the only release a soldier like me knows.” I picked up the new pair of drinks, then hesitated for a moment. “I’m afraid I’m going to be rather poor company tonight. You might want to find somebody else to talk with.”
The archduke considered me gravely, then slowly said, “Yes. You may be right.” He drifted away, giving me a concerned glance over his shoulder. I brushed off the brief moment of regret at driving away one of the few friendly faces I knew here and drowned the emotion with my next drink. Then I had a new problem to solve – my glass was empty.
