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THIRTY-EIGHT

Sitting in front of the full Grand Council, the duke leaned heavily on the arms of his massive chair.  

"So. It's them? There can be no mistake?" 

"No, Your Grace. I could read the signal flags they are flying. Treet calls Roxanna by name, and tells her that he's returned," the warlock said. 

"Then there is little more to say. If we oppose them further, we shall lose everything. The only sane thing to do is to admit defeat, and offer our services as administrators to our conquerors. That way, we can at least protect our people and maintain our crown." 

"That would be a dastardly thing, a cowardly thing to do!" shouted the archbishop. "Your forefathers were made of better stuff! Has your line become nothing but the trail of slime-covered slugs? Fight them! Your people would follow you to the death, if you but asked them!" 

"Yes, they would, because they love me and trust me, just as I love and trust them. How then could I lead them into certain destruction? No. We are beaten, but we can still put a good face on things. We will all give them a cheerful welcome into the harbor, we will invite them to a feast, and we will do everything that they ask, to prove to them that we will be good and faithful servants to them. They, being as intelligent as we are, will know that we will be able to serve them well only if the people see us still as their leaders. In name at least, I will still be duke, and you will still be my noblemen, my churchmen, and my wizards.  

"Then, one day, who knows? We of the Western Islands are accustomed to thinking in the long term, working in generations and centuries when lesser breeds think in days and years. These two men will not live forever, and one day we may well be masters of our own souls again. 

"But for now, our path is clear. We must be united in welcoming our new masters to power." 

The archbishop stood, shaking with defiance. "And I swear to all of you that I will never do such a foul thing!" 

The duke looked at him for a full minute, while all in the room sat silent, half afraid to breathe. Finally, he said, "Very well, you need not join us. Indeed, it is only fitting, since it was due to your advice, and your covert actions, that we find ourselves in this sorry condition. Uncle Felix, take the good Archbishop out and kill him. Make it look like an accident." 

 

At the top of an open-centered spiral staircase that seemed to go down into infinity, Earl Felix and the archbishop were approached by a tall young man in a monk's cassock. 

"Bartholomew!" the Archbishop cried. "Thank God it's you! Help me! Save me from this man, who means to kill me!" 

The monk stepped closer, but Earl Felix raised one hand and said, "Stop! This man has offended the Duke, who has ordered his death." 

The monk stopped, saying, "I am relieved, my lord, for the Duke's word takes precedence over even a Vow of Absolute Obedience. You may proceed with my blessings, for this man has dirtied my very soul. With your permission, my lord, may I watch?" 

The earl nodded. 

"Thank you, my lord. Then again, may I do the job for you?" 

* * *

* * *

The water by the stone wharf proved to be deep enough so that we could tie the ship up without difficulty. The ancient dockage at the mouth of the Llyr could not have been built for ships as large as ours, and most harbors in the world are gradually silting up, getting shallower unless they are regularly dredged out. However, since the Western Isles were sinking, its harbor was actually getting deeper. We'd have to watch the situation carefully, once we got to scraping the bottom of the island, to make sure that we didn't beach our ship.

Adam was the first one ashore, and I was inches behind him going down the gangplank, eager to give Roxanna a proper hug and a kiss.

After allowing us a few minutes with our ladies, the duke himself came up to greet us. He made a short speech, first in Westronese and then in English, welcoming us back, and granting all the men on the ship visas to stay on the islands for as long as they wished. He even threw in a line to the young ladies of his realm, asking that they give his new guests a warm welcome. He acted as though we had left and had returned with his understanding and permission, rather than having been beat up, burned out, and then forced to sneak away in the early dawn with only a third of the water we'd need to survive the trip.

Adam glanced at me, I nodded, and wordlessly we decided that if the duke wanted to put the best face possible on the situation, we would let him do it. We had the power, now, and we could afford to be generous. When the colonel stationed armed guards around our ship, most of them standing on the sovereign territory of the Western Islands, the duke said not a word about it.

Adam handled the formalities, introducing everybody to everybody else, while I stood back, wondering why, when we had that machinery company, I hadn't put Adam in charge of sales instead of trying to handle it myself. He was much better with people than I was.

Adam and I, along with the captain, the colonel, the doctor, and our ladies, were invited to a royal feast that afternoon. Within minutes, we received formal written invitations, with the ink still wet on them.

We only had about two hours before we would have to leave for the palace, a place that Adam and I had never been to before. Our group broke up, the nobles to the palace, our officers to get into their best dress uniforms, Adam and his ladies to their place for a quick sprucing up.

Walking to Roxanna's to change into clothing that would be appropriate for a royal banquet, I was stopped by the warlock.

"Well, Treet, you seem to have done everything properly."

"Properly?"

"Yes. You've arranged matters such that the duke's only option is to act as though none of the unpleasantries of the past ever happened, and that you went away and came back entirely with his permission. He knows that if you and Adam, drunk and just out of your sickbeds, could wipe out a score of his top athletes, the trained fighting men you've brought with you could easily conquer the entire island, if it came to that. His grace's best hope is therefore that it will be more convenient for you to rule through him, rather than trying to do it yourselves, directly."

My head was spinning. These people actually thought this way? That under the bland, civilized exterior, we and they had been playing some sort of game of power politics all along?

All I could think of to say was, "How did he know that I would bring back a sufficient military force?"

"Simple. He knows that you would not dare to return without one. Since you have returned, the force must be there."

"His Grace is doubtless correct." Again, it was all I could think of to say.

"Of course. Trying to manage an unruly population would be expensive and bloody. The duke's presence can do you a great deal of good. So, to put it simply, you've won. You know you've won, and the duke knows that you've won. He knows that all that he can do now is to aid in making the transition as painless as possible."

"Good," I said, feeling I was in way over my head. "I'm glad that's all cleared up. But for now, the less said, the better."

"Of course. I only wanted to add that if there is anything that I or my people can do, you have only to ask."

"Good. Uh, it might be nice if the archbishop would stop trying to stir up trouble," I said, taking a stab in the dark.

"That matter has already been taken care of. Our good archbishop suffered an unfortunate fall on a long stairway only an hour ago. We'll all go to his funeral in a few days. You'll get an invitation. Until the banquet, then."

And then he left.

Roxanna seemed to be in shock after hearing the warlock talk, and said not a word during the rest of the walk home. An hour later, she was back to normal. Later, when I asked her for her thoughts about what the warlock had said, she claimed that he had said nothing, that the warlock had never spoken to me at all!

My only conclusion is that her mind was made up of little boxes, and that like all Christians, there were areas that contained things that she simply wasn't able to think about at all.

I was happy to meet Adam on the way to the palace. I waved the women on ahead of us and then told him word for word what the warlock had said.

"It's a real pity, about the archbishop, but I guess it had to happen," Adam said. "But about everything else, it's wonderful! Success in our own time! Victory! Our plan couldn't possibly have worked out better! It'll be clean sailing from here out."

"Plan?" I said, "What plan? We never had a plan! And since when were we playing power politics on that level?"

"Since we left with our tails between our legs, survived the trip back, set up our trading company exactly like we told the people here we were going to do, and came back with a small, but very competent army to back us up. I mean, why else did we hire those ex-SEALs and the ex-Special Forces types? Rent-A-Cops would have been a whole lot cheaper. I was real impressed with your style all the way along there."

"But I never really had a plan, Adam. I was just doing what seemed right at the time, making sure that we could get back here to the girls, and making sure that we could protect them."

"And now they will be perfectly safe. You planned this outcome right from the beginning. Without a well thought out plan, it never could have worked out this perfectly."

"I tell you, Adam, I never had a plan!"

"Yes, you did, even if maybe you didn't know about it. You see, Treet, you have one of those `compartmentalized' minds, the kind that can be totally rational in most things, but with some areas that are sort of like a computer in `protect' mode, where you aren't allowed to think about what's in there. I mean, how else could you be such a good engineer, and still believe in that Atheism shit you're always spouting? Anyway, we gotta get going, or we'll be late to our own victory celebration, that the duke's throwing for us."

I stood there speechless, with my mouth open, until Roxanna took my arm and dragged me after the others.

 

 

The End 

 

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