Rebecca looked at her hands, laid out flat on the desk. “Mr. Bradford, I… I need Sister Audry here! I know she is a good and godly woman. My people will come to know that too. If she went among the people of New Ireland, she could assure me, assure us all, that they have no connection to the Doms, no evil in their hearts! She could speak to our own clergy, become an ambassador between the faiths… Perhaps she might even speak to the prisoners! Do you think she could show them the wrong they do, teach them how they have been seduced-used-by evil?”
Courtney leaned across the desk and patted a small hand. “You ask a great deal, Your Majesty. Not of Sister Audry, because I think she would be more than willing to come. But you may be asking the impossible of her and of your own people in terms of result. It might even be difficult just to keep her safe, you know.” He paused. “But I will ask her with you. She doesn’t like me much,” he admitted, “but in that, as in all things, she is honest. You can trust her advice regarding the people-and prisoners-on New Ireland.” He turned to the others. “Now, gentlemen, if you please, why don’t you leave us for a time? Her Majesty and I have sensitive, private matters to discuss.”
Bates paused, then nodded. He knew Rebecca would feel constrained around him. He was no longer just her protector, but her factor now as well.
“Aye, Mr. Bradford,” he said softly. “Come, Lieutenant Ruik, yers an’ Her Majesty’s Marines have arrests to make.”
Even as the library door closed, Courtney Bradford finally moved around the desk to hold the small girl who, now that they were alone once more, began to tremble beneath the crushing weight of grief and Empire.
A while later, perhaps a long while-Courtney’s watch had finally been stilled by the terrible blast-he stepped quietly out on the wide veranda and sat heavily in a chair. He was in a dark humor, and placed what he hoped was a sympathetic decanter of brandy on the small table nearby. Setting a glass beside it, he deliberately, almost masochistically-given his noble efforts in recent months-poured it to the very top. The night was pleasant enough, but his spirits were very low, and he stared at the stars and yearned for his long-lost pipe. Suddenly, to his surprise, a common cat rubbed up against his leg.
Courtney had never been fond of domestic cats-few Australians were-and perhaps the fact they’d been great favorites of his unlamented wife had influenced him as well. But strangely, right then the little creature did provide some small solace. If nothing else, it distracted him just a bit from his grief and worry while he contemplated its desperate attempts to win his affection. Only two cats were known to have been aboard the “passage” ships, yet they’d quite infested the New Britain Isles, and many other places within the Empire that man had touched. They came in all sizes and colors, and it remained difficult for Courtney to believe they all sprang from only two specimens. At the same time, for all their numbers and variety, only two basic types seemed to have endured: those that were utterly feral and those that did not wish to be. The former were a nuisance that had done great harm to the ecology, just as they had in Australia, but the latter could be nearly as annoying. The people of the Empire were not particularly tolerant of any of them, as a rule. There were exceptions.
At the time, a clowder of cats had chosen the space beneath Government House porch for shelter to rear their young. They were endured because they kept the rodents and insects around the house to a minimum, and because Her Majesty was somewhat fond of them. Eternal warfare raged between the cats and Petey, who, though often wounded in battle, kept their numbers at bay. Rebecca scolded Petey for his depredations, but seemed to have a fatalistic tolerance beyond her years for his lamentable but quite understandable behavior.
I wonder, Courtney thought, if all her hardships and adventures, all the suffering she’s seen and endured, has contributed to that. Certainly she’s holding up better than I would have imagined. He took a gulp of brandy. Better than I am, in some respects. She’s as strong as Saan-Kakja and the Lady Sandra, as she calls her, as determined as Captain Reddy-and doubtless her long association with and strange affection for Dennis Silva has helped her as well. He sighed. She will ruthlessly move forward to quell this challenge and punish these atrocities in ways she may one day regret.
The cat, a kitten, really, continued rubbing against him, and seemed to be gauging the possibility of achieving his lap.
Sergeant Koratin suddenly sat in a chair opposite him, and Courtney blinked, stirring from his dark thoughts. “There you are, Sergeant,” he said. “I wondered what became of you.”
“I have been here,” Koratin replied.
“Hmm.”
“Sister Audry will come?” Koratin asked.
“I presume so. How did you know?”
“I guessed. She will be needed here, and once the treaties are ratified, which is a certainty now, you will no longer be.”
Courtney began to bristle, but Koratin was right. He’d come as an ambassador, but he’d largely become the face of the western allies here. Governor-Empress Rebecca would sort out the current mess, he was sure-one way or another-but she had to be seen as doing it herself. It wouldn’t do at all for her confused and frightened people to think she was weak or that she was being propped up by foreigners, no matter how popular those foreigners might be. Bates would help, of course, but as Rebecca’s prime factor and possible guardian, he’d be expected to. Ultimately, the reorganization and re-creation of the Imperial government must have an Imperial face. Still, Courtney was reluctant to leave the Governor-Empress.
“You are wasted here, Your Excellency,” Koratin persisted more softly, “and you have other work to do. The new Governor-Empress will need soldiers to advise her now. She will need Sister Audry to counsel her as only she can do, and help her with the… spiritual dilemmas. And…” Koratin paused, then continued almost regretfully, “she will need such as I, who has trodden the rotten decks of treachery before. I will serve her however she will let me, and I will protect both her and Sister Audry with my life. They will need protection.”
“I’m sure Her Majesty will have more protection than she can bear,” Courtney predicted, “but I do fear for Sister Audry.” He peered closely at the former Aryaalan noble. “She did convert you, didn’t she? You have become a Christian?” he probed.
“Of a sort. I am not sure what kind as yet. There are different kinds, it appears.”
“Indeed,” Courtney agreed with a grimace, “and I’m perhaps the same sort as you.” He chuckled. “Somewhat nondenominational, shall we say?” He took another long sip. “I suppose you’re right, though. Despite recent… events… here and the looming confrontation with the bloody Doms, it seems our war against the Grik will of necessity focus the western allies’ attention more firmly against them quite soon. For a time, at least.” He took a deep breath and leaned back. “I’m no soldier, but I do feel drawn in that direction. Particularly by these reports that the Grik are growing more dangerously sensible.” He scowled. “And our dear Rebecca will need Audry’s sweeter voice of restraint and compassion more than yet another angry friend of her father’s.” Suddenly he started and looked around. “Where did the cat go?”
“Cat?” Koratin was confused.
“Yes… Oh! My apologies! There was one of the small ones, a Felis catus, standing about. It’s gone now.” He frowned. “I wonder if that villainous Petey has frightened it away-or worse.” He looked thoughtful. “For all I know, the little creature might already be dead!” He looked skeptically at Koratin. “I don’t suppose you ever heard of a lecherous Austrian named Erwin Schrodinger?”