The Sword and the Plough (17 page)

“
On one occasion the queen found it
necessary to order her guards to remove him from her court,”
Caroline resumed. “She told me so herself, and there were harsh
words and vague threats. The man is vicious and evil. He would stop
at nothing to harm the queen. Don’t you agree, Judith?”

“I don’t know, dear,” the older woman
murmured in reply, all at once uncomfortable to voice her opinion.
“But I’m sure you’re right. He sounds a dreadful man.”

The governor nodded. “Hmm yes, I know you
have the queen’s ear, m’dear,” he said. “You may well have struck
upon something. But to me it all seems just too outrageous…”

“As I see it,” Caroline took up again. “It’s
perfectly simple. Ferdinand is going to use us to bargain with the
queen. Whatever he’s planning, he intends to force Her Majesty to
his purpose, and he’s quite capable of slaughtering us all, if it
so suits.”

“
A plausible theory, Lady Caroline,” the
major murmured. He pursed his lips in deliberation for a moment,
then conceded. “Quite plausible indeed.”

“
Hmm!” Sir Henry too, wore a reflective
look. “But now I think I must take Rupert’s place as devil’s
advocate.” He paused, gathering his thoughts. “I think we are
underestimating the queen in this, and I doubt Ferdinand would make
the same mistake. I know Ferdinand. He is no fool, and he is no
gambler. I cannot believe he would take the risk. There must be
more to this than meets the eye.

“
As the queen’s governor on Megran,
Ferdinand has the queen’s trust. If he has attacked one of Her
Majesty’s planets, then he has committed an act of high treason and
the queen will show him no mercy, and her punishment will be swift
and severe.” The governor was now warming to his theme. “Our
Elizabeth is ruler by blood, training, and instinct. She has
generations of royal heritage in her veins. Powerful though
Ferdinand is, she will not hesitate to move against him, hostages
or no. She has no other choice. And she will
annihilate
him, have no
doubt of that. Earth alone is a match, but Bess can call on support
from all the other planets of the Commonwealth – Lumai, Theti, and
New Terra. And
they – will – come
– for she is
Bess
!”

“Yes!” The major agreed emphatically. “The
queen would be a dangerous adversary.”

“
You may say all you want to say about it,”
Caroline said almost peevishly. “But there comes a time when you
must make up your mind or be forever getting nowhere. To my mind,
it is perfectly clear. Ferdinand is the murderer who attacked our
planet and nobody else. And when you think about it, who else could
it be? Who else, but that venomous reptile has…” The young woman
began to tick the points off on her fingers, “the
motive,
the
resources
, the
manpower,
the
audacity
– not to
mention the sheer
arrogance
?”

“Yes indeed!” The governor was smiling. “When
you put it like that, m’dear, who else could it be? What do you
say, Rupert?”

The major gave a slight shrug of his
shoulders. “As Lady Caroline has said there is no other person who
holds such power. And if he has the motive, then perhaps…” The
major nodded to himself. “Yes indeed… well possibly…”

The dark cell went quiet, each member lost in
their own perceptions; each searching for some hope to still their
fears.

“Could Trion be some sort of trick?” Lars
broke in after a while. “Some sort of bigger plan to bargain with
the queen. The hostages seem the key. Perhaps they’re to be used to
further some sort of deception.”

His gaze met an audience of puzzled
expressions.

“Deception?” The major’s brows stood arched
like twin question marks.

“I mean, all communications are out.” Lars
continued, elaborating further on his idea. “Who outside Vegar will
know what’s going on?”

“Hmm! Yes, continue, Lars,” Henry Tudor
encouraged.

Lars explained how he had encountered the
main body of Megran troops setting up camp some distance outside
the town.

“
Hmm, that is strange,” the governor
agreed. “It would seem more normal for the invaders, especially
their officers, to bivouac in the town, commandeer the best
accommodation. Most soldiers prefer a proper bed to an army field
cot any day. It also has a more devastating effect on the morale of
the people to have the enemy in their midst.

“What do you think, Rupert?”

“You say they are out of sight of the town?”
The major queried, seeking confirmation,

“Yes,” Lars verified. “But the townsfolk will
know they’re there.”

“
Of course,” the intelligence officer
murmured. His eyes narrowed in deliberation. He rubbed his chin
thoughtfully. “Hmm, interesting – carry on with your theory, Lars.
I’d like to hear what other notions you have on this.”

“
Well,” Lars began again, “it just seems to
me that anyone visiting the town, outsiders that is, from wherever
– maybe even for example, a farm equipment salesman from another
planet – could be made to believe everything was normal.

“
I mean, with the Megran troopers close by,
the townsfolk wouldn’t dare say a word – what with their children
as hostages… Oh, and they wouldn’t want to try anything either,
like rescuing the hostages, not with the enemy right outside their
door. If I’m right, it’s probably the same everywhere on the
planet.”

“Hmm, perhaps.” The major appeared
unconvinced. “Thank you, Lars. It’s something to think about,
anyway.”

The intelligence officer returned to his
vigil at the cell door. He could hear the mumbled voices of other
prisoners in the jail cells up and down the dark corridor. There
was no sign of the fat Megran sergeant or his men. The other
prisoners sat at the small table watching him and waited. The young
captain moved restlessly in his sleep and started to cough, the
sound echoing harshly in the close confines of the cell.

At length the intelligence officer turned
from the iron bar door and faced the group.

“
I have followed your ideas,” he said
quietly, “and I believe we may have hit upon some facets of the
truth, but I fear there is more, much more, that we have failed to
see.

“Our queen is generous to those who serve her
well, but it is not in Her Majesty’s nature to be forgiving to
those who abuse her trust, and Ferdinand will know this only too
well.

“
If he is seeking to hurt the queen, as
Lady Caroline has suggested, then he is playing a perilous game,
one in which there can be no turning back, and he will take no
chances, and his treachery will be more devious than we can
imagine.”

The intelligence officer smiled sadly at the
little group before him.

“Ours would seem to be a waiting game,” he
resumed, “with little chance to help the queen. But perhaps an
opportunity may arise, and we should be vigilant for such an
occasion.”

“A bit like pawns I guess, are we, Rupert?”
Sir Henry enquired in a low voice.

“Yes governor, I’m afraid we are, but
sometimes even a pawn can be useful, if played to the best
advantage.”

Lars stood with his hands curled around
the bars of the cell door, his face pressed against their cool iron
looking out into the dark of the corridor. It was early morning he
guessed, though there was no w
ay of knowing even day or night for certain. There was
little to see. It was just somewhere else to look other than the
four black rock walls of the cell.

Behind him, the other prisoners slept on. He
wondered if the twin suns had risen yet, warm and yellow over the
black fields. And his sister, Helen, was she just a few cells away
wondering the same thing?

A whisper came from behind him. “How are you
feeling this morning?” it said.

Caroline was sitting on the edge of the bunk
she shared with Judith Warner. Her auburn hair was tousled, her
chartreuse dress gown crumpled and stained. Her cheek had a red
crease where she had slept on it. Nevertheless, to Lars, she was
the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, with a heart to
match.

Lars grinned. “I’ve felt better,” he
whispered back.

Caroline smiled. She stood and gave her head
a little shake so that the auburn tresses fell loose to her
shoulders. She smoothed her hair back, tidying it into a ponytail,
and slipped a hair tie deftly into place. Then she stepped over to
the bunk where the captain lay and stood staring down at him.

Lars understood her concern. He too, had
checked the young officer’s condition when he first awoke. The
breathing had seemed regular and he appeared to be sleeping
peacefully enough, though his complexion was a deathly grey, as if
all his blood had drained away.

After a minute or two, Caroline too, seemed
reassured and turned and stepped over the sleeping forms of her
father and the major on the floor, and came toward him.

Lars’s gaze dropped and lingered on the
soft sweep of her gown, taut against her breasts and hips, its
sensuous rustle strangely alluring. Her shape was exquisite. As she
came closer, her perfume travelled before her and enveloped him,
creating a sudden deep yearning to clasp her tight in his
arms.

All at once, he awoke to his focus and felt
his cheeks reddening. He lifted his gaze and saw her hazel eyes
aware and sparkling with humour. She smiled at him. Her hand
touched his arm. He caught the warm fragrance of her skin as she
leaned into him. Her hair brushed his face, electric in its touch.
He felt his pulse rate rising.

“Let’s have a look at that eye,” she said.
She tilted his head back into the light, and the soft tips of her
fingers gently eased the swollen eyelid open.

Immediately, his eye burned and watered, and
he turned away blinking at the tears.

“Sorry,” she murmured. “Your eye socket is
badly bruised and swollen, and your eye is very bloodshot. But I
think it will be all right. Still, I wish we could get a doctor to
look at you.” The hazel eyes studied him with deep concern. “Is it
very painful?”

“No! Well, not too bad. It’s certainly a lot
better today than it was yesterday.”

Caroline nodded. “Good. I must say you do
look much improved generally this morning.” She paused and gave an
exaggerated frown. “It is morning, isn’t it?”

Lars nodded. “Yes, around dawn I should
think. I usually wake up at the same time each day.”

“Dawn?” The hazel eyes smiled. “Then the
others may sleep for quite a while yet.” She motioned a hand at the
table. “Shall we at least sit down while we wait for the sergeant’s
room service? We can fill in the time by deciding what to order for
breakfast.”

Lars grinned. Lady Caroline certainly had
plenty of spirit. There was no doubt about that.

They sat either side of the table, their
heads bent close, their voices low.

“Have you always lived on Trion, Lars?”

“Born and bred here,” he answered. “And
you?”

“Well,” she said…

* * *

The shuttlecraft from the battleship came in
huge and slow like a giant bird, the rays from the new day’s twin
suns glinting gold on its gleaming metal body. The undercarriage
lowered and locked. The Megran shuttle pilot made his final
approach checks and spoke again to Vegar Tower.

The tyres spewed white smoke as they hit the
airstrip, and black dust swirled high in the wake of the engine’s
roar. The aircraft slowed and turned toward the airport apron, the
bulbous black painted nose comical in contrast with the sinister
rake of the shark like tail trailing the delta wing.

The shuttlecraft rolled to a stop and the
sounds of its engines faded. It sat, perched atop the thin stilts
of its undercarriage, the dark of its shadow stretched out before
it. It had come for six VIP passengers.

* * *

The harsh sound of Megran boots resounded
throughout the black stone corridor and the other prisoners
awoke.

The governor sat up. “That sounds like
breakfast coming,” he muttered. He stood stiffly, then stretched,
attempting to ease the ache in his back from sleeping on the cold
stone floor.

“I hope so,” his daughter remarked. “I’m
absolutely famished, though I very much doubt I’ll want it when it
arrives.”

The marching boots came to an abrupt halt
outside the cell door. All the prisoners were awake now. Judith
Warner was smoothing her hair down with her hands. The governor was
assisting the captain to his feet.

“I wish I knew what time it was,” the major
muttered.

“About eight o’clock I should think,”
Caroline said quietly in answer.

The bolt hissed back in the lock and the
cell door flew open. Six guards in Megran green marched in fanning
out three to each side. Each wore a Meredith pistol at his hip.
Sergeant Wykes ambled in behind them, his huge bulk assaulting both
sides of the doorframe as he came.

He stood with his feet wide apart to support
his immense weight, his thumbs hooked into the belt that
circumnavigated his vast girth. His fleshy face broadened into a
Cheshire like grin.

“Well, well,” he said. “So, we’re all still
here, are we? It’s good to know you’re enjoying our hospitality so
much that you want to stay.” He fixed his baleful grin on the
little group’s leader. “Ah governor,” he said. He sniffed loudly.
“We’ve arranged a nice little trip for you and your friends out to
the stars.” He wiped his nose with a stubby red finger.