Lois Bujold - Captain Vorpatril's alliance

Morozov squeezed his eyes shut, briefly. Opened them to give her a rather pained look. “Just how much has your new husband told you about himself?”

“Not much. I looked him up.”

“Where?”

“Maybe I’d better show you…”

A few minutes at his comconsole found Tej’s database. “Why ever did you look in a Komarran database for Barrayaran affairs?” Morozov inquired mildly.

“It seemed…as if it would be more reliable…?” Would he take that as an insult?

Morozov looked over Ivan Xav’s entry and sniffed. “Correct but incomplete, and sadly out of date. You shouldn’t have stopped there, m’dear.”

“I ran out of time.”

“Well.” Morozov swung around again. “High Vor family relations tend to be complex, interlaced, and mined. Before you set foot in them, I strongly advise you to study up.”

“Is Ivan Xav high Vor, then? I thought he was just…middling. He acts middling.” Tej was beginning to be peeved about that. Just what kind of a tricky deal had she landed herself in, anyway?

“Oh, yes,” said Morozov, as if that explained anything.

Tej glared at him.

He held up a warding palm and suppressed a smile. “To understand Captain Vorpatril’s peculiar position in the capital, one must travel a bit farther up his family tree. His mother is of good Vor stock, and certainly not to be underrated, but it’s on his father’s side that things become interesting.”

“He said he was an only child. So was his father—or anyway, he didn’t have any siblings listed.”

“Up farther than that. Captain Vorpatril’s father’s mother was Princess Sonia Vorbarra, who, along with her elder sister Olivia, were the daughters of Prince Xav Vorbarra. Who was the younger son in turn of Emperor Dorca Vorbarra, later called Dorca the Just. And the younger half-brother of Emperor Yuri, later called Mad Yuri, but that’s another tale.”

Perhaps more than names out of history texts for the Baronne or Grandmama, but mere distant tales to Tej. Yuri had led the brutal and bloody rebellion against the Occupation on the ground, while his brother Xav had run all over the Nexus gathering off-world support for his forces, not so much for Barrayar, as against Cetaganda. And—um, yes—that was the whole sum of Tej’s knowledge of them. “So…Ivan Xav’s great-grandfather was this really important prince. And his great-great-grandfather was this really important emperor?” She looked suspiciously at Morozov, who had his hand pressed to his mouth, his eyes alight with annoying amusement. “Or is that another charming understatement?”

“It will do for now. To bring it back to the present, Ivan Xav Vorpatril from the hour of his birth has been high on the list of potential heirs-presumptive to the throne of Barrayar should anything untoward, God forbid, happen to Emperor Gregor. Or he was, till Gregor married Laisa Toscane and the boys came along, to many people’s relief.”

“A list? Is it a long list?”

“Not especially, though it still contains several latent opportunities for civil conflict. First on the list has always been—ah, you see, Sonia’s elder sister Olivia married Count Piotr Vorkosigan. Who thus became the sire in turn of Count Aral Vorkosigan, who is the father of Miles Vorkosigan, Ivan’s notable cousin. Lord Auditor Miles Vorkosigan, now. If you linger in Vorbarr Sultana for longer than ten minutes, I can almost guarantee you will meet him. But it’s always been realized by anyone with even half a wit that none of the Vorkosigans would have touched the throne, seeing as how Lord Miles was born so damaged, should it have fallen vacant before Gregor had sired his own heirs. Instead, they would doubtless have swung their considerable weight behind Ivan Vorpatril. And pushed.”

Rish was listening to all this like a blue marble stature. Tej hoped she was tracking the complications better than Tej was. Tej had a hot date with a comconsole soon, there could be no doubt. Homework . Tej hated homework. No choice now .

“The upshot of it all is that Vorpatril has been a potential plot magnet for disaffected political parties all his life, partially shielded by his cousin’s clan, partially protected by his own…I suppose I could describe it as notoriously nonferrous lifestyle. Pressures have eased off for him lately, to a degree.”

“Wouldn’t Ivan Xav’s mother have been anxious to promote him?” asked Rish, clearly puzzled by this maternal lapse. “Or see him promoted, anyway?”

“I gather that Lady Alys has always been much more anxious to protect him from risk. Her only child, you see. Though she is a formidable woman. Had anything untoward ever happened to Gregor, I am sure that—after first seeing those responsible properly hanged with all due ceremony—she would undoubtedly have been drawn into guiding her son in his new duties.”

“I thought she was a secretary,” said Tej faintly. “The database called her some kind of secretary.” She looked at Morozov, looking back at her in wonder. “Charming understatement…?”

“Social Secretary to the Imperial Residence. Official hostess for Emperor Gregor for decades, now first assistant to Empress Laisa. One of the most powerful women in the capital, in her own quiet way. I know Chief Illyan never underestimated her.”

Would Ivan Xav take her to meet his mother, when they arrived in Vorbarr Sultana? And if so, should they perhaps tell her about the divorce before they mentioned the wedding?

While Tej digested the implications, Morozov gathered up the lunch debris and set the tray in the corridor. When he returned, his thoughts had plainly shifted back to his own more immediate duties, for he opened with a chatty, “And how ever did the Baronne come to create you Jewels, Rish? It must have been a fascinating project for her…”

And then it was time to gather what was left of her wits and evade, again, and push Ivan Xav to the back of her mind. Where he loomed like a very indigestible lump indeed.

Just as Ivan had hoped, his arresting lure drew Desplains’s attention entirely off of the erratic personal affairs of his high Vor aide-de-camp for the next several hours, especially after the first cargo pod was found in the process of being stashed under a fake antenna. There followed a fire drill of the most chaotic, Service Security everywhere, surprised perpetrators playing hide and seek all over the ship, the Kanzian ’s captain out for blood, livid with outrage and chagrin to discover that he’d missed the criminal scheme taking place under his nose. Ivan faded into the background, documenting and taking notes on the whole circus like the excellent admiral’s assistant he was. At the end of the long day, Admiral Desplains and the Horsemen were being regarded by the Kanzian ’s entire crew and most of the orbital station’s personnel as possessing supernatural powers granted by some dark god, and they wouldn’t have been human if they hadn’t enjoyed the effect, at least a little bit.

Desplains was almost mellow as he settled into his shuttle seat for the trip back to downside HQ. His gesture this time for Ivan to take the seat across from him was more of a wave of friendly invitation. The admiral leaned his head back against the seat in a moment of well-earned weariness, but opened his eyes again and regarded his subordinate in some bemusement.

“Good work today, Ivan. You do have your uses.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“And here I thought—never mind. I owe you one.”

Ivan was good. Ivan was Ivan when the admiral was pleased with him, Vorpatril when the mood was neutral, and Captain when Desplains was irritated. This was probably the best opportunity Ivan would get to broach the next subject. Also, given the short duration of the flight, the only opportunity, so. Go . He took a deep breath. “I’m glad you think so, sir. As it happens, I am in need of a somewhat personal favor just at the moment. Not unrelated to this.” His wave around reminded his listener of the Kanzian coup, just bagged.