Schism of Blood and Stone (The Starfield Theory Book 1) (43 page)

Magnus took a moment to collect his thoughts. “It is not as simple as you make it to be. We are foreigners here, no matter what name we hold. We won't win supporters by killing civilians and crushing the local population. They must be lured out of their hiding places. Going after them will make us look like fools as we stumble blindly over foreign ground.”

“What makes you think you know all this?”

“I am a general, mother. You have done your best to keep me out of combat, but I have a firm understanding of it.”

“General,” Salena said softly with great scorn. “You are no general, yet.”

Magnus narrowed his brow, red hot anger flashing behind his eyes. He was standing up to her, something he hadn't done before. He bit his tongue, wisely, being content with his minor victory.

Salena closed her eyes and breathed. The stress of the day was beginning to overwhelm her.
As much as I know I did the right thing, I can't help but wonder if I am captaining a sinking ship.

“Enough. Come with me,” she demanded.

They turned down the last corridor and the throne room doors loomed large before them. The statues felt oppressive here, like a heavy blanket. The throne would give her comfort, reassurance. The power inherent in it would flow through her and give her strength.

Things will be fine
, she thought.
Filipov will be found, Anna and the child will belong to me. The Dominion will crush Aaron Mercer-Sten and his army on Goteborg and, in turn, he will cripple their advance. Then I will send Magnus to crush Damien once and for all.

She reached the throne room doors and composed herself. The two guards saluted smartly and opened the doors for her. A split second after the doors closed behind her, she noticed a man in her throne. Slowly, like waking from a dream, she recognized him. She saw the pale dead eyes of Peter Sten look up at her. He blinked as he regarded her, his face contorted in confusion then turned into anger. He began to stand, raising his fist, finger extending accusingly toward her, and opening his mouth to yell. Then the image faded.

Salena screamed and took a step back, bumping into her son. He caught her, the anger gone, replaced by a mask of concern. Salena felt her grasp on reality fade and she clutched at empty air. Darkness closed in around her. She felt like she was dying. Breaths came in short ragged gurgles.

She collapsed into Magnus' lap. Above her, he was shouting orders, like any confident commander would. As the darkness took her, she knew Magnus would become the Archduke she had trained him to be. When she died, he would rule in her place, a captain's strong hand on the rudder. He would do well.

But it is not his time yet.

Sir Magnus Teton-Sten

Knight Scion of House Teton, The Iron-Handed

Sten Palace, Magdeborg, Magdeborg Commonwealth

______________

Magnus Teton-Sten glared daggers at the Azuren officials who were conversing quietly in a corner of the hall. They towered over those near them, though most gave them a wide berth. Their white robes stood out among the many, but muted, colors of the attending nobles. There were
five
of them now clustered in a small group. It was rare to see a single Azuren, but five was unheard of. It was a sight not likely to be seen again in the lifetimes of those present. The Azuren had been ignoring everyone else in the room for the entire evening and the attendees were beginning to notice.
It looks like conspiring
, he knew they were all thinking.
This will not do.

The ballroom was packed with people, great lords and their attendants, knights and celebrated sergeants-at-arms, courtiers and probably enough spies to hold a convention in subterfuge. Most of them were engaged in alcohol-fueled conversation, but Magnus refused to join them in their indulgences. It would not do for a general to be inebriated. Besides, they played silly games, wars of words and half truths. Magnus despised them. Politics was for those who unversed in war and battle was the ultimate form of negotiation. Unconsciously, he rubbed the synthetic arm. Sometimes he could swear he feel it itch.

He tried to ignore the other nobles and focused his attention on the masters of the universe and the watchdogs of the human race. They were truly adept at war, each Azuren the pinnacle of combat, like an entire army in human form. The stories of their abilities on the battlefield dazzled the common people and struck fear into the hearts of the nobles. One Azuren could change the course of a battle, he only imagined what the five of them could do.
Change the course of a war most likely, but we do not need them here. They make us look weak.

Indeed, the results of the jailbreak last week by Lord Conrad were being felt as the Sørensens gained access to new leaders, weapons and equipment. Recently, it had claimed the lives of more sergeants in bombings, raids and assassinations. Just yesterday two knights were killed right in the city. Their dead bodies were found strung from lamp posts near the checkpoint that led to the palace itself. It infuriated him to see nobility handled in such a manner by mere commoners. The Sørensens were growing more dangerous and more daring with each passing day. People were afraid and Salena had cracked down, increasing checkpoints, random searches and detainments. The populace was restless.

He felt a nudge in his side and he glanced to his left to see Cassandra standing close. “Don't stare. Mother would not approve,” she warned.

“Why not?” He asked gruffly crossing his arms.

Since her episode in the throne room, she had taken to her chambers to rest. She would not make an appearance tonight and tasked Magnus and Cassandra to take her place.

“Because it looks like they're bothering you. They want you to stare at them because it puts the attention on them rather than us,” she explained, smiling sweetly and touching his elbow. “The attention is supposed to be on
us.
”

“They mock us, Cassie,” he hissed. “They have Mother wrapped around their fingers and there's nothing we can do to stop them.”

“Not yet, that is. They are only here to ensure stability. Once you crush Damien's rebellion and finish off the
Sørensens
, they will leave,” she said pulling his attention away from the Azuren. “Besides, you have other responsibilities tonight.”

The guests here were all invited to the wedding, of course, friends and family of the noble houses plus those deemed influential though not noble. Damien's invitation would likely be lost in the mail. At first he was afraid he'd spend the evening greeting an endless line of well wishers and sycophants, but instead he found himself delightfully ignored. There was plenty of alcohol and a small band playing some carefully screened and selected pieces. Nothing too patriotic, but nothing too rebellious either. He remembered attending these sorts of gatherings when he was younger on the Teton homeworld of Danvers as his mother entertained her various subordinate nobles. He'd hated them, too.

“Kendra is here somewhere. You should probably talk to her tonight. It would be in your best interest to appear to like each other,” Cassandra said.

“I do like her. She's just-”

“Not a soldier. Well get used to it. If you could hold together an empire with just an army we wouldn't have need of a Conclave and these sorts of events. Mother is trying a balanced approach to her rule. She needs it.”

“I wanted to talk to you about her-”

“Not here.”

“But-”

“Just wait a minute.”

She took him by the hand and pulled him towards a more isolated alcove.

“You've seen it too, huh?” She asked.

“How could you miss it? She's seeing things.”

“And talking to things. I'm starting to really worry about her,” Cass admitted.

“Have you talked to father?”

“I tried,” she hissed. “He won't listen. He says it's stress and exhaustion, but he won't see it.”

“That means he knows, he just doesn't want to admit that he does.”

“It's no secret that Archduke Haakon's children were a little unbalanced. Even Archduke Peter had his demons, but I've never seen anything in mother that indicated that.”

“Before now you mean,” Magnus added.

Cassandra nodded, concern etched in her eyes. Magnus ran his real hand through his hair, crumpling the perfection the family stylist had shaped for him. He didn't care.

“So what do we do?” He asked.

“She needs to relinquish some of her duties. Let me handle Conclave meetings, let you back into the field to finish the insurgency and let father do anything besides complain about the weather on Magdeborg.”

“I tried! She won't let me go back into the field until after the wedding and after, you know-”

“She wants a secure genetic line.”

“Pretty much,” Magnus said, feeling his skin blush.

“I'm worried about her. What if she doesn't get better? What if it's something more severe that's just coming out now? If rumors get out that something's wrong it could create even more problems. I've always heard Uncle Damien is a sociopath.”

“It wouldn't surprise me. I heard rumors of an obsession with fire, too.”

“So what do we do?” She asked again.

“Try to keep it hidden as best as you can,” Magnus said with a shrug. “If it gets worse we might have to do something.”

“Like what?”

“I don't know!” He snapped then rubbed his forehead in frustration. “Sorry. Just keep an eye on her. We'll see if things get better after the wedding. Once things calm down, right?”

“Okay,” Cassandra said with an unconvincing nod. “Come on, Mother wanted me to introduce you to Duke Frederick.”

“Wait. You said she was talking to things. What was she saying?”

Cassandra bit her lip and glanced quickly from side to side. She lowered her voice. “She was talking to Archduke Peter,” she said then paused. “She was apologizing for taking his throne and forsaking his children. She asked him to tell the
Sørensens she was sorry for betraying them.”

Magnus slapped his forehead. “For Amrah's sake, Cass! She can't be saying those sorts of things to anyone real or imagined.”

“It's worse than that, Mag. I think she's serious. I'm not sure if the Sørensens really were plotting to usurp the throne. I think Mother might have lied to us.”

Magnus looked out over the crowd, continuing on obliviously. “Is that even possible?”

“I don't know.”

“She needs to keep it together. If word of that got out. I mean, if it's even possible that she lied about the Sørensens, we'd have a lot more than just Damien and the insurgency to worry about.”

“I know.”

“And she mentioned Peter's children? Plural? Which meant she wasn't talking about cousin Arthur. She meant the same children Uncle Damien mentioned at the funeral.”

“I know.”

“Is it possible they're real, too, and not some fiction Damien invented?”

“I said I know!”

Cassandra took a deep, calming breath.

“For Ithix's sake.”

“Let's go meet the duke. Take our minds off of Mother for a while. Besides, the longer we stand here the more people will think something's wrong,” Cassandra said. Then she put on a winning smile and led Magnus back out into the crowd.

But something is wrong,
Magnus thought.
Fatally wrong.

Other nobles carefully parted ways as the Teton-Sten children glided past them arm in arm. Cassandra shared smiles with those who looked in their direction, but Magnus kept his face passively neutral.
They are like dogs begging for treats. They deserve only a pat on the head and chew toy.

The ballroom was a large chamber on the palace grounds. The floor was an intricately designed Sten insignia, with slivers of precious metals in blue and green outlining the cover of the book. Rougher stones in off-white and tan for the pages. Cool steel was set for the blade of the Sten sword and Magnus and Cassandra walked up from the tip. High glass ceilings were supported by a dozen massive marble pillars. A balconied second story ran around the perimeter where guests, tired of dancing would socialize and drink.

They hid it well, Magnus realized, but the signs were there. The building used to be a destrier hanger. The outlines of the recesses for the machines were still vaguely visible and the walls of the place were still reinforced steel and concrete. It was a convert from the early days of the Sten family's occupation of Magdeborg when their grip on the world was still weak.
As it is now
, Magnus realized.
Perhaps we ought to convert it again.

Duke and Lady Mason were extremely wealthy, a result of their control of Sindal, a binary star system on the border of the their territory. Several of their worlds were rich in metals that the Harding Corporation mined for their production of military vehicles and weapons. Much of their house troops utilized Harding's technology, making them one of the more powerful houses. Despite her recent incidents, Mother hadn't lost the foresight of finding important alliances. In the coming war, the resources and technology would be critical.

The Masons were both in their sixties, still young for nobles, and approaching obesity. They were obviously entrenched in the old ways that viewed gluttony as a symbol of power. In their case they would not be wrong, but Magnus looked on them with disdain. No self respecting individual would let themselves go like that. If they were his soldiers they would be drummed out faster then they could blink.

Nevertheless, he gave them a forced smile and a curt bow, a custom which had apparently become popular again. Both the Masons bowed as far as their girth would allow.

“Sir Magnus, Lady Cassandra, you honor us with your attention,” Duke Mason said his jowls quivering. He was dressed in a luxurious business suit, obviously emphasizing his economic ties to the Hardings. His house's crest, the world of Aarhus, was emblazoned on his left breast and his sash was in the Mason colors, purple and silver. His wife, an ugly, more-plastic-than-flesh thing which hung onto his elbow, smiled at him. She wore a massive purple and silver dress that revealed more bosom than was proper.

Magnus cleared his throat. “We were quite pleased to learn that you would be joining us. Your reputation has proceeded you.”

Frederick Mason smiled. “It's not often that we can gather like this. The war and the insurgency are a drain on us all.”

Magnus felt color rising from the inside of his uniform and spreading to his cheeks. Cassandra's forceful pinch on the inside of his flesh arm kept his anger in check.

“We shall have them rooted out soon enough,” Magnus said tersely.

Frederick Mason nodded enthusiastically. “Yes, indeed. I understand my soldiers will be used in your upcoming offensive.”

Magnus hid his shock behind a short cough.
How did he know about that? We haven't even released the plan for final review amongst the other generals, yet!

“House Mason will play a major role in the plan, yes. They will bring much glory to their name,” he said smiling, hiding his irritation.

“Ah!” Mason said and smiled at his wife as if proving a point. “I am always happy to be service to House Teton-Sten. If there is anything more we can provide you, please do not hesitant to command.”

Cassandra stepped in carefully steering the conversation away from military matters an on to more immediate concerns. “We have not yet had the pleasure of seeing your daughter tonight. We heard you brought her back from Aarhus and hoped to find her with you.”

Lady Mason looked across the hall, “She's speaking with Lord Clarke. But we can bring her here immediately.” She snapped at one of her servants

“Yes, I believe she was looking forward to getting acquainted with you more,” Frederick added with a knowing smile. “I understand these arranged marriages are difficult in these days. They were much simpler in my day.”