Evan Currie - Heirs of Empire

And the only man outside of Corian’s forces who had any idea how to do that was standing at her side.

“You want to join them, Gas?” Mira asked.

Gaston was quiet for a long time but finally answered. “I don’t believe I have much choice.”

“You can give Everett the plans.”

Gaston’s voice was cold and hard, surprising her even though she expected it. “Not even over my own cooling corpse, Mira.”

Mira nodded slowly. Gaston had lived to see his life’s work turned against him, a monster of his own design wreaking havoc on people he’d sought to protect.

Both of them had their nightmares.

They stood in silence for a long while, watching as the crew loaded and secured the Naga. Only as the hull slowly closed up did Mira speak again.

“Well,” she said, “I suppose we’d best get ready for a fight.”

The loyalist camp was teeming with men as far as the eye could see, and William’s eye could see a long damn way indeed.

This will be our stand. Rise or fall, the fate of the empire will be decided in the coming days by the men and women here today.

“I hope you’re right about this.”

William turned, his train of thought shattered as he looked sidelong at the field marshal who had stepped up beside him.

“What’s the matter, Groven?” Baron Kennissey asked dryly. “I thought you wanted some action.”

“What I want is that traitor off the throne,” Groven growled. “Not two months ago you convinced me that lying low was the best thing to do, now this?”

“Things have changed, field marshal,” William said simply.

“What things? The only change I see is that Corian’s had more time to solidify his position.”

William was about to respond when a call went up from the nearby spotters.

“Sails coming out of the mist!”

They all turned in the direction indicated, eyes seeking the edge of visibility to spot the sails. The eternal mist of the empire was more of a haze in the distance, really, atmospheric distortion that rendered all beyond it impossible to see. It could range from a dozen miles out to several hundred or more, depending on local temperature variations, but it was always present.

Now, it was probably forty or fifty miles out, and they could see the gleaming white sails even though the skimmer behind them was still too small to spot with the naked eye.

“Are we expecting anyone else?” Groven asked, trying to remember if someone was missing.

“Just one more,” William said simply.

The ship closed in quickly, and in a few moments they spotted a second set of sails flying close escort. William smiled slightly, recognizing the symbolism as much as anything else in the action.

Good man, Brennan.

The larger ship sailed straight in, using the second-level winds to power her approach, and closed the distance in minutes. As she spun out her lines, dropping the vessel down and slowing her progress, people got a glimpse of the colors flying behind her.

The black banner with the crossed blaster and Armati made William snort with amusement, but it was the golden banner that flew above it that caught everyone’s attention.

“Scourwind colors,” Groven whispered beside him.

The field marshal turned to glare at William. “You found them!”

“I did.”

The Andros Pak settled into a stable hover over the assembled loyalist forces, and William had to appreciate the skill of the handler who was keeping the big ship in place by sail manipulation alone. After several long moments, the corsair slowly dropped into a cleared slot below them and settled easily into place on her skids.

The old Fire Naga, however, kept aloft like a snarling angel watching over its charge. Against the massed forces arrayed around it, the Naga wouldn’t last more than a few passing moments, but somehow that made it all the more impressive.

Finally, after the Andros had struck its sails and been secured, the Naga too lowered in a show of precision flying that matched the larger ship nearly perfectly.

Very good, Lydia, Brennan. Show them all that you belong here. William had done his part in raising the twins, and while he’d considered them to be brats like everyone else, he always knew they had the potential for more. Now he just needed them to prove it.

“Shall we greet her Imperial Highness?”

William half turned to Kennissey, then nodded as the baron rose to his full height.

“Yes,” he said finally, “I believe that we shall.”

Lydia took a deep breath as the boarding plank was dropped from the open top deck of the Andros and the armed men and women of the crew filed off in strict order, lining up on the ground below in two ranks. She was dressed in a modified version of the standard uniform used on board, mostly just a utilitarian two-piece that served to protect the wearer more than making any fashion statement, but it seemed right and fitting.

It had been altered just a bit, including some fine tailoring to make it fit her better than most. She also had the Scourwind colors over her right shoulder, matched off against her brother’s blaster in a cross-draw rig off her left hip.

With her hair braided back impeccably, she didn’t know if she looked like an empress, but she certainly hoped that she didn’t appear to be a child. If she were to do this, she wanted to do it right .

“It’s time.”

Lydia nodded gratefully to Mira as the Cadrewoman took up a position a half step behind her left side. She knew that Mira had chosen that position with forethought, just in case Lydia had to draw her blaster. The weapon would fill Lydia’s right fist, leaving her left flank more open, so the Cadrewoman had selected the shield bearer’s position.

How many of those watching will recognize that? Lydia wondered idly as she stepped up onto the plank and began the seemingly interminable march down to the ground.

In the distance she spotted the Fire Naga waggle its stubby wings in salute, and she nodded back to her brother. Behind Mira and herself, Mik and Dusk walked in similar dress as the rest of the crew, eyes wide as they looked at the sea of military uniforms that awaited them.

She didn’t blame them.

Lydia had grown up in the palace and had only rarely seen this many legion personnel in one place with her own eyes. Generally there were limits on how many legions could be present within a single day’s travel of the palace, ostensibly to prevent just what had happened.

She set her jaw as she reached the bottom of the plank and stepped out onto the hard ground. Her eyes immediately sought out and found William, but he shook his head slightly as she walked toward him and flicked his eyes to the left.

Lydia followed the gesture and recognized the man at William’s side, adjusting her course.

“Lord Baron Kennissey, I am most pleased to see you here.”

The baron bowed from the waist. “Your Highness, as always, I am your servant.”

“My family and I owe you gratitude,” she said firmly, eyes drifting back to William and then to the man on his right. She didn’t know him, but his rank was clear. “Field marshal.”

“Groven, Your Highness,” he filled in, bowing deeper than the baron had.

Lydia looked out over the shoulders of the men standing before her, to the men, women, and equipment lining the ground as far as she could see.

“You have done well, field marshal,” she said, “better than I might have hoped.”

“Thank you, Your Highness.”

Lydia smiled then, focusing on William finally. “Cadreman Everett, I …” She hesitated, and then her smile turned a little sad. “We are most pleased to see you alive. Our brother trusted you with his life.”