Выбрать главу

"Anyway, back to the MP's. As war chief of the clans, Captain Galloway was entitled to a bodyguard. What he did was have Art Mason recruit a whole mess of 'em, lots more than anybody expected, and use 'em for military police. Not just young nobles, either. Kids from different clans. Even clanless ones, and freed slaves-"

"So now the only clan they've got is Captain Galloway," Murphy said.

"Yeah. Exactly," Warner said. "Smart of you."

"Just like us," Reznick said. "But where do we fit in?"

"Sort of like a headquarters company," Warner said. "First thing is you'll probably be posted back to the University and told to write down everything you remember. Everything. Then there's the travelling schools. You'll learn about them. Main thing to remember is that Captain Galloway's our boss and we're all right if we don't forget it."

"But these MP types. Excuse me, but this is Drantos. Tamaerthon isn't even a part of this kingdom, is it?"

"No. But remember they're supposed to be Captain Galloway's bodyguards, and he's the host this tenday. Outside the palace Art's MP's wouldn't have any jurisdiction 'cause we're not in Tamaerthon, but Lord Rick-that's what they call the captain here-theoretically put them under the command of the Lord Protector. That one."

He pointed to a big scar-faced man with a perpetual scowl. "So they're keeping order in the kingdom as well as in this palace," Warner finished.

"And Corporal Mason takes orders from that Protector guy?"

"Major Mason. Sure he does," Warner said. "Sure."

"Christ, this is worse than the south," Reznick muttered.

Warner laughed. "Just getting started, Lafe. See those two? There, and on the other side of the room-"

"Yeah?"

"Romans. The one on the right is ambassador of the Emperor Flaminius-"

"And the other one from Marselius," Murphy finished. "Yeah. We've got a lot to tell the Captain about that situation."

"Oh? Like what?"

Murphy looked thoughtful. "Larry, not that we don't trust you, but the only thing we got left to deal is information. How about I tell the Captain, and he tells you?"

Warner chuckled. "We're learning, Ben. You're learning. Shall we go downstairs and join the party? Your ladies and friends will be along in a minute. Try to stay sober, and for God's sake don't insult anybody."

3

Rick's head was bursting. Hangover remedies didn't work any better on Tran than on Earth. Not as well. There was precious little aspirin on Tran, and a lot more fusel oils in the liquor.

"Two hours and I'm for the Grand Council," Rick said. "Holy Yatar, my head is killing me-"

"You earned it," Tylara said. "I thought you had determined to drink all the wine in Edros."

Close to right, Rick thought. I don't do that too often, but last night-Oh, well. What's really irritating her is that I was too drunk to pay attention to her after the party. "You will come to Grand Council, of course."

"Of course," she said. "Shall I accompany you now?"

"I think no," Rick said. "I think I'll get more information if I talk to them in English."

"As you will."

"Dammit, I'm not keeping secrets from you." He went to put his hands on her shoulders, but she seemed to draw away from him. "All right. I'll see you in Council." He left the bedroom hoping that she would call him back, but she said nothing.

He went downstairs to the stone chamber he'd had fitted out as a situation room, a copy of his offices in Tamaerthon. There were maps painted on three walls; the fourth was blank white, with charcoal nearby to write with. A big wooden slab table filled the room's center. Benches surrounded it; benches weren't comfortable, and that made for short meetings. In contrast, Rick's chair at the head of the table had been specially carved for him, with padded seat and thick arm rests. If need be he could out-sit those who argued with him in this room. "Ten-shun!" Elliot commanded as Rick came in.

The troopers around the table stamped to their feet. Murphy and Reznick seemed a bit surprised, but they didn't object. Rick said nothing until he had taken his place at the table's head and sat down. Then he nodded. "At ease," Elliot said.

"Thought we left that crap behind with Parsons," Murphy muttered.

"That'll do," Sergeant Major Elliot said sharply. He didn't like people who talked back to officers. Elliot's idea of perfection was an officer who knew his place commanding troopers who knew theirs. Of course the Sergeant Major was indispensable under any such scheme…

"Two reasons for this meeting," Rick said. "To find out what you know about the southern situation, and to bring you up to speed about the mission here. I'll start off."

Only where? he wondered. There's so damned much they don't know. So damned much I don't know. Humpty Dumpty told Alice to begin at the beginning and go through to the end. Then stop. But if I do that I'll be here all day.

"First, the basic mission hasn't changed," Rick said. "We're here to grow crops for the Shalnuksis, and if we don't grow their damned surinomaz they won't trade with us, meaning no more modem conveniences. So we've no choices there."

"Captain, are you sure those those saucer things are coming back?" Murphy asked.

"Not entirely," Rick said. "But they told us they were, and they left communications gear. The pilot told Gwen Tremaine that the surinomaz crop was important, both to him and the Shalnuksis." And he left her a transceiver. Left her pregnant, too. So now she's got a year-old kid with no father within light years.

"The trouble is," Rick said, "that surinomaz isn't easy to grow. The locals call it 'madweed' and they hate the stuff."

"Uh-"

"Yes, Warner?"

"Captain, just 'fore I left the University, we got reports about witch women and shamans who used madweed for a useful drug."

"We'll want to check that out. Bring it up in the Science Council meeting." Another meeting, after the Grand Council. All I do the whole day through is sit in meetings "Yes, sir."

"Anyway. We need a lot of the stuff, and people don't want to grow it. Land's limited. With that rogue star coming close the growing seasons will be longer, and we can get more food out of each acre but somebody's got to feed the people who grow madweed for us. For years. We'll want at least four years of bumper crop of the junk."

"So that's one problem. We need peace, only that rogue star is playing merry Hobb with the whole planet. I saw your reports, Murphy. Migrations. Wandering tribes in the south. I'm not surprised-fact is, it's going to get worse. What's the chances of holding off the migrations at the borders of the city-states?"

"Not much, sir," Murphy said. "If we could have done it, I would have, rather than come up here."

Rick nodded. It's like a ball of snakes, he thought. "What if I sent a big force? Twenty mercs and a couple of thousand local warriors?"

Murphy shrugged. "I don't think that would work very well," he said. "First thing, the city-states might not let your troops through without a fight. But even if you made some kind of alliance with them, there's not much for a defensible border down there."

"That was my impression," Rick said. He pointed to one of the maps on the wall. "But it also looks as if eventually there'll be impassable swamps to the south, after the Demon Star melts enough ice to get the seas up forty or fifty feet. Until then we'll just have to do the best we can. Now what do you hear of the Roman situation?"

"Stand-off," Murphy said. He turned to Reznick and got a nod of confirmation. "At first Marselius was winning. Had new tactics that I reckon he learned from you. But now old Flaminius has recruited some new legions and called out his reserves, and he's holding his own."