The Burning Crown (Stone Blade Book 4) (6 page)

BOOK: The Burning Crown (Stone Blade Book 4)
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"Of course, m'Lord Victor! My pleasure to do so."

***

Richard Ambith checked the crowds and terrain with an extra-careful eye. He had no illusions about his fate if his caution faltered. Besides Varl he didn't know exactly which Houses worked to engineer Parl's death but Brightcrown had more than a few enemies, all of them willing to execute extreme measures upon any poor soul with the temerity to oppose them. Even the least of them was far too much for Pops Ambith's oldest son to handle unaided.

He still marveled that his desperate distress call worked. Having participated in more than one urgent rescue, both practice and reality, Ambith knew well the few moments of chaos that would ensue once the rescue ship grounded. Not so his erstwhile captors! He gave them the vanish once the shuttle settled good and lost himself in the starport crowds. Nor did he dare leave the port complex. A quick check of the logs showed nothing unusual: no incident report, no rescue report, nothing on heavy weapon fire detected and not even a logged delay.

The implications of that chilled Ambith. Normally his fellows in the Elder Guard kept close and careful watch over such things and only incredibly high authority or illegal data access could squelch them. Fortunately for him that type of privilege rarely spent a lot of time in a starport. His continuing freedom showed that he knew more about the starport than did his enemies. He considered trying to locate someone high enough in charge to receive the data he had on his chip but decided to hold it close instead. That left escape as his only option. After a day and sleepless night he found what he wanted. Now came the spiky part.

Four Elder Guardsmen marched smartly across the tarmac with their serjeant. Ambith knew their destination and worked himself close enough to it well before they arrived. When they passed close, he waited for the last to walk by him and he stepped in behind the man unnoticed. Several workers looked their way but he let his uniform speak for him.

The five Guardsmen in front of Ambith marched up the ship's ramp, past her steward and into her hold. Before that worthy could comment, Ambith stepped to one side and began closely inspecting the hydraulics. He smiled inwardly. How many times had he drawn the undesirable duty of checking a ship for contraband? Very well did he know the procedures and protocols for those inspections. He also knew this particular ship had no illicit substances aboard, she and her crew arrived, traded and profited with the blessings of House Darwin, a current ally of House Brightcrown. No doubt some knight of Varl or Binkor-Sud ordered this extra inspection simply because he could.

After allowing time for passenger and crew cabin inspection, Ambith headed that way. He knew the others would inspect the ship as quickly and efficiently as possible, and given the layout of the vessel, her holds and her cabins he knew exactly how they would do it. He felt a sense of relief now, even though the danger hadn't abated. The crew scurried about, unfortunate targets of their captain's desire to leave and his irritation at this last gratuitous delay. Ambith himself simply looked with great suspicion at any crewman who met his eyes. They instantly dropped theirs and hurried back to their tasks.

Ambith found an empty cabin quickly enough. The inspection would finish soon and when the serjeant recalled his men back to the hold he took his comm and crushed it beneath his boot. The ship launched quickly after that and Ambith took it strapped into the bunk. Not his roughest takeoff by an L-shot! Now came the stressful wait. He had no delusions about making the trip undiscovered, but he'd at least wait past the first... Yes! The vessel microjumped away from Faircoast in order to line up its L-shot.

***

"Hello, gentlemen."

The ship's first mate and steward both jumped and scrabbled for the blasters they didn't have. Ambith sat, visibly at his ease, in the ship's main lounge. She made another microjump while he walked from the cabin and now the astrogator would take some time to calculate the L-shot. Ambith still wore his uniform but absent a few critical insigne and patches now.

"Who the hades are you, cully," demanded the first mate.

"Who doesn't matter," said Ambith casually, "Where does. You are bound for League space and I wish to purchase passage on your vessel."

Both men eyed Ambith suspiciously. He very carefully kept both hands flat on the table and his arms relaxed. He knew he could take out the two men but that would make a terrible start for the negotiation to come.

"Torque me sideways," said the mate, "Sure an' we oughta toss you out the main lock! You an' the rest of yer prettyboys all makin' trouble for us comin' an' goin'. Laker. Get the cap'n down here. Don't let Bruch link, neither. You stay put, prettyboy, else we will have you breathin' vacuum!"

Ambith held his expression calm, sat quietly and waited for the captain. Inwardly he heaved a sigh of relief. The captain might not be any happier but three witnesses was certainly better than two!

The captain stormed furiously into the lounge and demanded Ambith stand. When he did, the captain took the chair, sat and glared at him.

"All right, bally boy. Start with yer name."

Ambith shook his head. "Believe me, captain, you're best off not knowing. Suffice it to say I am a former member of the Elder Guardsmen, multiple specialties, and that I wish to purchase passage aboard your vessel to a League world."

"You just
left
a League world, yer ruddy flopper! After, I might add, yer buddy-boys gave me a hold full o' grief before we lofted! By hades I oughter just dump yer ruddy carcass out the aft lock. That or turn around an' take yer back."

Ambith shrugged with a nonchalance he certainly didn't feel! "I cannot prevent you from doing either, captain, but if you will convey me to a League port outside the Star Crown worlds I will pay for the trip." Moving very carefully he took out five chits. "These are worth two hundred gold. You can hold and verify them if you wish. I will validate them as soon as we reach Lithceau or some other port beyond it. Your choice."

The captain pulled out his exchequer and verified each chit.

"That is two hundred gold, captain," said Ambith, "L-au. Twenty thousand credits." And all of the money he possessed, less a more reasonable fare and lodging further into the League.

Ambith saw a gleam of greed in the captain's eye and he relaxed. He'd just offered the man ten times the price of a first-class or luxury berth to a destination well beyond what he asked. But all of it amounted to nothing until Ambith validated it.

"I'll even sweeten the deal," said Ambith, "If you do decide to take me back to Faircoast I can guarantee you the Elder Guards who inspected your vessel will not be pleased. I'll be executed for desertion, no question there, but they will be very upset with you, too. I don't expect you to understand our ways, but they were assigned from a House opposed to the one with which you did business. Your penalty will be... severe."

"But you stowed away, yer balmy scupperswill! I had nothing..."

"That won't matter to them, captain," interrupted Ambith, "The Guardsmen will simply impose massive fines and possibly confiscation of your fine ship. The other Houses, though... You represent an embarrassment to them, captain. They do not... appreciate humiliation of that sort.

"If, however, you elect to accept me as a passenger you will receive your payment. You don't know my name, you can forget my appearance easily and you three are the only ones who need know I am aboard. I'll gladly stay in my cabin and you or one of these two fine sailors can bring me my meals. No one will be the wiser and you can continue trading profitably on any Crown world."

The captain stared at Ambith a long time. Then, finally he nodded and offered his hand.

"Safe passage, then, an' you stay in yer cabin. Laker'll bring you yer rats an' no one else knows yer aboard." This last he also directed at the other two. "That an' you validate these," he shook the chits in his other hand, "as soon as you know yer outside the Crown!"

"Thank you, captain." Ambith shook the proffered hand then well and truly relaxed.

Now back in the same cabin in which he stowed away, Ambith began mulling over Parl's last few words. He regretted what little he left behind but not enough to face certain death for it. After the long hours he and Parl spent chatting in the small ship's bridge, Ambith felt honored to have known the man. He'd like to have met his roommate, but no. Impossible.

Ambith finally concluded that Parl told him to escape. He hoped he'd accomplished that. He would certainly feel more certain when he did have Crown space half a dozen links behind him, but that would come later. Then he would see to avenging his friend's death. Ambith knew he could do nothing by himself but, by the stars, he'd find someone who could!

***

Fyrelm rubbed his eyes and examined the numbers again. And again he felt the seeds of frustration take root and sprout. The data simply did not make sense! House Brightcrown and all of its allies cleared good profit on most of their ventures and the few losses barely made a dent in the gains. They all operated properly within the laws, gave fair trade and enforced it where necessary. All who swore fealty to them prospered within their jobs and lives and the House Ombudsmen had little enough to occupy their time. Yet still Varl outpaced them!

Varl's legally recorded and taxed profits and ventures summed properly and no auditors Fyrelm found could find aught of concern. Even the less-than-legal revenues flowing into House Varl checked, albeit with a margin of error apropos the reliability of the intelligence about them. Yet even with a higher error than a House Larner solicitor could justify, the sigma lines still did not match!

Despite everything Fyrelm could find House Varl still showed more wealth than they should have, and subtle indications hinted that they had access to even more. Nor did Fyrelm ignore House Binkor-Sud, House Snughblak and the numerous lesser Houses associated with them. They too seemed to have some unknown and untraceable source pouring wealth into them. None of his other agents found anything even half a milli off the beam and he had no Parl to find him more.

Hints of rumors flowed to Fyrelm, now that he knew to search for them. Though tantalizing in inference, even the least-vague of them lacked anything he could latch onto and track. The thing strongest about all of them was Moot censure of House Brightcrown. Did he not know better Fyrelm would suspect his foes of creating the rumors simply for their own sake.

Not that they hadn't tried that tactic before: conflict between Houses took many forms, from blatant and straightforward to subtle and devious. Over the centuries House Varl tried its hand at all of them. Though damnably hard to fight directly, simple revelation of the truth made false rumors, implications and suggestions vanish like morning fog. House Varl learned
that
lesson as well, and more than once! No, thought Fyrelm, this time his foes would have something of substance.

Fyrelm's comm beeped.

"Your guests have arrived, sir," reported Jackson Osbury, Fyrelm's butler for as long as he could remember, "I've served them wine and cheese and they both seem in good cheer."

"Thank you, Osbury."

Fyrelm couldn't help the smile that crossed his face. In Osbury's world serving the wrong cheese with the wine constituted a greater catastrophe than the impending collapse of the House he had served for most of his life. He knew his Laird would handle such trivial matters so long as he and his guests received proper attention.

Fyrelm took a moment to collect his thoughts and review what he planned to ask before rising. No House, Great or Lesser, especially one allied, would refuse an invitation to dine with the Laird of House Brightcrown. It pained Fyrelm to think of his dearest friends thusly, but better that than any of the alternatives. He took a moment outside the library to compose himself and summon a smile.

"My Laird Brightcrown," announced his herald, "is most pleased to welcome you, my Laird Edders. My Laird Brightcrown is most pleased to welcome you, my Laird McReely. Please to find comfort and welcome at our hearth and home."

Fyrelm, Edders and McReely all shared a warm smile at the announcement. Though not as old as Osbury, Brightcrown's Chief Herald certainly lived in the same world. As long as he announced their guests properly and saw them receive due courtesy all disasters would fall to nothing.

"M'Lord Reginald," said McReely, "Always a pleasure. You as well, m'Lord Luther."

"Always and ever," affirmed Edders.

The three Lairds bowed and acknowledged each other properly and the herald bowed and left. Then they relaxed, dropped all formality and sat. They discussed mundane and amusing matters pertaining to their Houses until Osbury appeared and announced dinner. That luxury, at least, they still had.

The three of them kept the conversation light during dinner. Once again Fyrelm's chefs did their Laird and House proud. Even McReely praised it and he'd spent his youth traveling and trading throughout the League. Then, as they relaxed in a meeting room with an excellent aperitif, Edders spoke seriously.

"I take it you've heard the rumors, Reginald."

"Indeed so, Luke. They are of some concern but I have other matters troubling me more."

"How so?" To Edders
nothing
outranked possible Moot action against one's House.

Fyrelm garbled the room, called up the summaries of his data and presented them.

"Interesting," said McReely, himself a very astute businessman, "Have you checked their cargo manifests, shipping records and trade schedules?"

"Thoroughly, Savn. I've asked the Elder Guards, my own agents and even the League officer here. None of them reported aught off the beam."

"That means they're being sneakier than we are," said McReely. Then, sarcastically, "That's a coronation week surprise."

"What do you wish us to do," asked Edders, "Without regretting the necessity and despising the fact that you must ask it. We are friends as well as allies and you know we'll gladly help."

BOOK: The Burning Crown (Stone Blade Book 4)
3Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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