ship they sent here spoke of that. Their captain and diplomat themselves said they have more enemies than systems. I hope you made them no promises!"
"Friendship only, Uncle Marius. I'm not the fool many think of me! Should they manage to expand themselves to within convenient trading range, House Brightcrown will trade with them gladly. If."
"Would that it happen soon, Edgar. I fear it will not, though. Such ideals as they hold are less durable than they are appealing."
"But good trade makes good friends, Uncle! I personally dislike House Watt, no secret there, but Lord Terrence Gerald leapt at Brightcrown's offer to open additional routes. He likes me less than I him but even he saw the advantage there!"
"True, lad, and wise besides. The Crown is best served by strengthening itself, regardless of personal likes or dislikes. More Houses could learn that lesson! There is ample chaos, battle and the threat of both much closer than that League. Have you not heard the rumors of vestige Imperial legions gathering? To my mind that is a much greater threat."
Fyrelm dismissed that with a wave of his hand.
"I have heard them, Uncle. They are rumors. Rumors of rumors! The Great Rift is far from here and a hazard to hyperspace travel besides. Even farther by civilization! This supposed consortium of surviving legions is likely little more than a band or three of pirate fleets gathered around a rich asteroid field. No doubt they banded together under the most brutal of them and will not last past his death."
"But even small bands of pirates can be dangerous," countered Gladius, "Only an absolute fool would dismiss them as..."
Both of them stopped dead at the sound they heard ahead. The door to King Elias' chambers stood at the end of the hallway with a young page beside it. Fyrelm drew his sword and charged forward. Gladius paused only long enough to summon the Guard before running after the feckless Fyrelm with a well-intentioned curse.
***
Gladius charged in on a scene of carnage! King Elias lay dead in a pool of blood with the fingers on his outstretched hand barely touching those of his wife. She twitched feebly but no life shone from her eyes. Several guards lay among the other bodies, their blood mixing with that of three men Gladius didn't recognize.
Fyrelm stood paralyzed, staring at du'Varl as he calmly wiped his blade clean on the shirt of one of the King's cousins. Quincy Connor Harold Edders, who joined both Fyrelm and Elias for many summers at Gladius' estate. The man du'Varl had just killed!
"Halm's balls, du'Varl," spat Gladius, "What madness is this?! What have you done?"
Feet pounded from the hallway as Elder Guards arrived. They looked about in confusion and finally drew needlers and concussion pistols to cover everyone save Gladius. The senior serjeant looked at Gladius but kept silent.
"Lay down your weapons." du'Varl gazed arrogantly at the guardsmen. "That is a command! Put away your weapons or you will be executed for high treason against the Crown!"
Again the men looked at Gladius but none moved his weapon.
"L-laird Josef..." Fyrelm barely managed those words.
"Rest easy, cousin. I do not wish you dead or harmed, nor you Lucius. Calm yourselves. You are in no danger. Guards! Lower your weapons, I said! None here is guilty of any crime!"
"No crime," said Gladius incredulously, "Not guilty? You say that with Noble blood dripping from your blade, du'Varl?! The treason is..."
"The treason," interrupted du'Varl, "is not by my hand, Lucius! Halm's beard, man, are you still too blind to see?"
Gladius tried to speak but no words came forth.
"You are. Cracks in the Crown, you are!" du'Varl sheathed his blade. "Listen, then, for a moment. Calm yourself, Cousin Edgar. What I have done this day is to the best of the Crown, its worlds and its peoples. I have this day set us on the path toward our rightful destiny ruling our worlds in peace and prosperity!
" King Elias? Pah! A young fool of an Edders with
"Friendship only, Uncle Marius. I'm not the fool many think of me! Should they manage to expand themselves to within convenient trading range, House Brightcrown will trade with them gladly. If."
"Would that it happen soon, Edgar. I fear it will not, though. Such ideals as they hold are less durable than they are appealing."
"But good trade makes good friends, Uncle! I personally dislike House Watt, no secret there, but Lord Terrence Gerald leapt at Brightcrown's offer to open additional routes. He likes me less than I him but even he saw the advantage there!"
"True, lad, and wise besides. The Crown is best served by strengthening itself, regardless of personal likes or dislikes. More Houses could learn that lesson! There is ample chaos, battle and the threat of both much closer than that League. Have you not heard the rumors of vestige Imperial legions gathering? To my mind that is a much greater threat."
Fyrelm dismissed that with a wave of his hand.
"I have heard them, Uncle. They are rumors. Rumors of rumors! The Great Rift is far from here and a hazard to hyperspace travel besides. Even farther by civilization! This supposed consortium of surviving legions is likely little more than a band or three of pirate fleets gathered around a rich asteroid field. No doubt they banded together under the most brutal of them and will not last past his death."
"But even small bands of pirates can be dangerous," countered Gladius, "Only an absolute fool would dismiss them as..."
Both of them stopped dead at the sound they heard ahead. The door to King Elias' chambers stood at the end of the hallway with a young page beside it. Fyrelm drew his sword and charged forward. Gladius paused only long enough to summon the Guard before running after the feckless Fyrelm with a well-intentioned curse.
***
Gladius charged in on a scene of carnage! King Elias lay dead in a pool of blood with the fingers on his outstretched hand barely touching those of his wife. She twitched feebly but no life shone from her eyes. Several guards lay among the other bodies, their blood mixing with that of three men Gladius didn't recognize.
Fyrelm stood paralyzed, staring at du'Varl as he calmly wiped his blade clean on the shirt of one of the King's cousins. Quincy Connor Harold Edders, who joined both Fyrelm and Elias for many summers at Gladius' estate. The man du'Varl had just killed!
"Halm's balls, du'Varl," spat Gladius, "What madness is this?! What have you done?"
Feet pounded from the hallway as Elder Guards arrived. They looked about in confusion and finally drew needlers and concussion pistols to cover everyone save Gladius. The senior serjeant looked at Gladius but kept silent.
"Lay down your weapons." du'Varl gazed arrogantly at the guardsmen. "That is a command! Put away your weapons or you will be executed for high treason against the Crown!"
Again the men looked at Gladius but none moved his weapon.
"L-laird Josef..." Fyrelm barely managed those words.
"Rest easy, cousin. I do not wish you dead or harmed, nor you Lucius. Calm yourselves. You are in no danger. Guards! Lower your weapons, I said! None here is guilty of any crime!"
"No crime," said Gladius incredulously, "Not guilty? You say that with Noble blood dripping from your blade, du'Varl?! The treason is..."
"The treason," interrupted du'Varl, "is not by my hand, Lucius! Halm's beard, man, are you still too blind to see?"
Gladius tried to speak but no words came forth.
"You are. Cracks in the Crown, you are!" du'Varl sheathed his blade. "Listen, then, for a moment. Calm yourself, Cousin Edgar. What I have done this day is to the best of the Crown, its worlds and its peoples. I have this day set us on the path toward our rightful destiny ruling our worlds in peace and prosperity!
" King Elias? Pah! A young fool of an Edders with
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