Blind eyes wide, Marrou managed a polite, "Thank you, Your Majesty!"
"I must warn you," the Queen continued, "that your life will not be entirely safe. Remember that all treecats are empaths . . . and that I believe they're much more intelligent than even the `experts' guess. You will not be able to fool them about who and what you are, and they may choose to take vengeance for the pain your actions helped cause Monroe."
A guttural growl from Ariel seemed to confirm this warning.
"However," the Queen went on, "if you are willing to take the risk, a place will be found for you."
Marrou held her head high. "Will I be permitted to take my family?"
"If they wish to go. However, I remind you that you may not speak of these matters to them."
"I understand. Will I also have a `physician' to report to?"
Queen Elizabeth nodded. "You will, but my greatest assurance of your fidelity will be the treecats themselves."
"Will Monroe be returning to Sphinx?" Reasonably, Marrou looked rather frightened at the prospect.
"No." For the first time, Elizabeth smiled. "In the process of saving Justin's life, it appears Monroe has adopted him. They are both getting accustomed to the idea, but Monroe will be remaining with him."
Justin Zyrr touched her hand. "And what a wedding ours will be with two treecats as attendants!"
The Queen squeezed his fingers, but the coldness returned to her features as she surveyed the remaining two conspirators. For the first time, some of the anger she must feel surfaced.
"I can hardly express the disgust I feel for you," she said to Gwinner and Seltman. "These two plotted out of misplaced loyalty to the Star Kingdom. Your only reason was greed and ambition.
"For the safety of the Star Kingdom, you must be removed to where you cannot serve Haven's interests. Fortunately, Duchess Winton-Henke has suggested an ideal location for you. Basilisk is under our administration, yet it is far enough away that you will be unable to effectively influence Manticoran politics.
"Mr. Seltman, your business acumen and personal ambition are so well-known that no one will question your leaving to take a Crown-granted concession on Medusa."
"And if I refuse?" Seltman tried to sound menacing.
"Dame Eliska has done some analysis on this."
Dame Eliska consulted her screen and spoke as precisely as a computer: "A conservative analysis says that your refusal, combined with strategic placement of rumors, would destroy your political career quite neatly. You are up for re-election next year, are you not?"
Seltman nodded. He had held his seat for so long he had forgotten how easily it could be taken from him.
"Moreover," Paderweski said, "your business associates will hear those rumors. Projections say that there would be an immediate downturn. Following your failure to be re-elected, your profit base would be diminished by half and fall further thereafter. We would also make certain that your little `extra' income was cut off entirely. And, of course, your Peep employers might well decide to tie up a loose end once you were no longer of use to them."
"And if I insisted on a trial?" Seltman roared.
"For what?" the Queen said coldly. "No one is accusing you of anything. The Crown is simply offering you a job."
Seltman crumpled, beaten, but even as he accepted the Queen's politely worded exile he was planning his comeback. They would forget him in time. Haven had agents on Medusa; he could contact them. Yes. . . .
The Queen had turned her attention to Paula Gwinner.
"You are somewhat more difficult to deal with," she said, "as I cannot remove your titles. However, I am also offering you a job on Basilisk as assistant to Daniel Chou."
The wiry old man straightened and gave Gwinner a casual wave. His mustaches flopped.
"Liaison to the natives," he said, "in a really lonely district. We probably won't see another human for months at a time. They don't even trade with humans. They're good folks, though. Smell a bit funny, but they are fiercely honorable."
"Mr. Chou will also be in a position to help Mr. Seltman with his new business venture, although I plan to assign him a partner in the concession. There are many loyal servants of the Crown who would be delighted with the opportunity."
Seltman glanced at Gwinner. Paula was clearly in shock. She probably didn't even hear the Queen's next words.
"Your vote, Lady Gwinner, will be handled by proxy. The only difficulty with your somewhat fluid voting record is that you have no strong allies. However, I am certain that Lord Jacob Wundt would be honored to transmit pertinent data to you and forward your votes."
Lady Gwinner straightened. Perhaps, Seltman thought, like him she assumed where there was life and freedom, there was hope.
"Your Majesty, I would be delighted to accept both your offer to relocate and your choice of a proxy."
Her words were spoken so gracefully and with such a genteel flourish that only the glint in her eyes belied them.
"Very good," the Queen said. "Due to the sensitive nature of this meeting, I am assigning all of you bodyguards. You will not know who they are, but I assure you, they will be there. You have my permission to leave."
Escorted by Daniel Chou, the four left.
"I hope the restrictions we've placed on them will be enough," Duchess Winton-Henke said.
"Hope is all we have," Elizabeth said. "Hope that the checks and balances of our system will preserve it. Isn't that what you've been telling me?"
"Precisely, dear." The duchess smiled. "And it's about time for lunch. I don't know about you, but I'm famished!"
* * *
The Earl of North Hollow found himself wishing his son Pavel wasn't away on active service. He would have liked to tuck him behind a curtain somewhere and show him how a masterstroke was delivered.
Three of those he had summoned to him had come at his call. Only Jean Marrou had declined, sending a message that she was "relocating to Sphinx and retiring from public life."
No matter. Despite her brilliance in some areas, she was a small fish indeed. Seltman, Gwinner, and Howell, however, studied him as his butler passed around tea and cakes. Howell's eyes were dull, as if he had taken a mortal blow. Seltman and Gwinner, though . . . they were still sharp and suspicious.
When they were settled and the room sealed (except for his own recording equipment, of course), he rubbed his fat hands together, a parody of the jovial fat man.
"I have gathered you here to note that through my own channels I have become aware of certain of your actions."
He outlined their meetings, their connection with Padraic Dover, the purchasing of certain obscure electronic parts, Seltman's secret trip into the wilds on the day of King Roger's death. Unknown even to himself he provided more data than even Daniel Chou had ferreted out (although in fairness to Chou, Dover's actions had made such ferreting unnecessary).
When he had finished, he paused, pleased with himself.
"I could make this data public," he said, "but I feel that such is a Crown prerogative."
He chuckled greasily. "However, it could come to certain ears in a privy fashion. . . . Perhaps to LeBrun, Earl Howell? I simply wanted you to know this, in case I need you to be, shall we say, of service."
"I am retiring from Parliament," Howell said firmly.
"But an aristocrat never really retires, does he?" He favored Gwinner with a leer. "Or she."
Gwinner barred her teeth in a parody of a smile. "Sadly, my duty to the Crown takes me to Basilisk." And none too soon, you old letch, her eyes seemed to add.