Eric Flint - 1634 - The Baltic War

He moved over to the table and held up the royal document. "If you strip away the flowery language which is but a patina over a truly impressive list of dire consequences should the culprit-that's you, Lieutenant Cantrell-fail to make good on his crimes, what this amounts to is something any humble farmer back home could have said. With a shotgun in his hand. 'Marry my girl-betroth her, in this instance, the customs being different-or I'll blow your fucking head off.' That's pretty much the gist of it."

"But-can he do that, sir? I mean…" Eddie's shoulders sagged a bit. "I mean, jeepers, we won the war, not him."

"So? Have no illusions, Lieutenant. I can probably manage to spare you the worst of these consequences-by the way, did you really show him how to use a diving suit to-"

"Hell, no! Uh, sir."

"Well, that's a bit of a relief. But, as I was saying, I can almost certainly manage to get you executed in a reasonably civil manner. I think I even have a good chance of getting Gustav Adolf to insist on a mere exile to somewhere… oh, incredibly unpleasant. They have a lot of medieval fortresses around here, you know. Lock a man up, throw away the key, and let him fight it out with the rats. Probably in Norway, whose rats are famous."

Eddie was staring at him. "But…"

"But what? Do you suffer from the delusion that Gustav Adolf would intercede on your behalf? Right at the point where he's finally reached an agreement with Christian that Prince Ulrik will betroth his own daughter Kristina? Thereby-that was a shrewd move, as you'd expect-taking most of the sting out of Denmark being forced into a new Union of Kalmar. Now, Christian can console himself with the knowledge that at least his grandchild will continue to rule his kingdom-as well as Sweden and Norway and Iceland and Finland, for that matter. In the middle of all this, do you think the emperor is going to risk upsetting the deal because a junior naval officer is a complete dunce?"

"He did?"

Simpson frowned. "Did what?"

Eddie shook his head. "Sorry, sir. I was talking about Ulrik. Did he agree to marry-uh, betroth-Princess Kristina?"

"Well, of course he did. Why in the world wouldn't he? Even leaving aside the fact that every child of royalty-in the line of succession or not, it really doesn't matter-knows perfectly well that they'll wind up marrying someone for reasons of state, in this case it's an incredibly advantageous match for him."

"But-but-"

"But what? But his bride-to-be is only seven years old? But he only met her for the first time this morning? For God's sake, Eddie, the Ring of Fire was three years ago. Has it only just registered on you that we're in the seventeenth century?"

For whatever reason, it was that last remark by Simpson that cleared the whole thing up for Eddie. Not that there was any reason for the admiral to be so sarcastic!

Especially since he was wrong, anyway. Looking back on it all, Eddie could now see that it hadn't been set up from the beginning. What had actually drawn Anne Cathrine and him together in the beginning was that when he first encountered her she was being set up to marry a rich merchant, whom she disliked intensely. Eddie had helped her scheme her way out of the match-or so he thought. With hindsight, he could now see that that was when her father had gotten the idea of matching her with him instead.

And… yes, of course Anne Cathrine would have agreed. By then, at the very least, Eddie was sure she'd come to be quite fond of him. Far more so than she could realistically expect with any alternative prospect. You could call it "calculated," if you wanted to cast it in the worst possible light. Or "unromantic," if you wanted a milder term. But both terms were just stupid. She was what she was, that's all. And he thought she was the most terrific girl he'd ever met, and by that same country mile.

He was still puzzled by something, though. "But why me, sir? I mean, like you said, I'm just a junior naval officer-and in an enemy's service, at that."

"You need to be more precise. You are an American junior naval officer. One of that relative handful of people who have managed to turn Europe upside down in three years. From King Christian's standpoint, as the old saying gets paraphrased, he loses a daughter but gains a son who is not only a technical wizard but one of proven courage and determination, to boot. Might be a very handy fellow to have around, in the family business."

Eddie winced. "Uh, sir, I need to tell you that regardless of what the Danes may have told you I didn't actually ram the Outlaw into that ship. Not on purpose, I mean. It all just happened by accident after we got shot up and Larry and Bjorn got killed."

Simpson smiled. "I never thought you had, myself. But it takes nothing away from the courage you displayed at Wismar, Lieutenant. For which-quite properly-you were awarded the Navy Cross. Nor does it take anything away from the rest of it. From King Christian's viewpoint, since his oldest daughter isn't in the line of succession, she's not available for a major political match anyway. So why not marry her off to a young American officer, especially one with a great deal of technical knowledge? There are a lot fewer of those around these days than noblemen or rich merchants."

"But we're enemies."

"Not any more-and don't think for a moment that Christian didn't have this possible outcome in mind. The war's over and now we're… you can't even say 'allies,' exactly. Well, you could from the standpoint of the emperor of the USE, but from the standpoint of the king of Sweden-we've got a dual monarchy here, never forget, and we're about to get a triple one-Denmark now belongs to him. As for Christian IV, he's now the greatest prince in the Union of Kalmar, second only to Gustav Adolf himself-and that, only for one generation. That being the case, the clear and certain duty of the ruler of the Union is to see to the suitable punishment of that scoundrel who beguiled and seduced and dishonored and debauched-oh, it's a long, long list, in those charges-the innocent and childlike daughter of his Number One Man."

The admiral's gaze was still piercing, but more like that of a weirdo Owl God now, instead of a hawk. Of course, owls were still raptors, so fat lot of good that did Eddie.

"But-but-we were enemies. When it happened, I mean. Sir." His voice rose a little. "And that's not what happened anyway! I did not 'beguile' and 'seduce'-more like she did me, is the truth of it-and-and-okay, she's only fifteen years old-fifteen and five-sixths-but-well, okay, I won't say she's not pretty innocent-at least of anything that I care about-but-"

"You're babbling, Lieutenant."

Eddie shut his mouth. Then he took a deep breath and reminded himself of what was actually important. His eyes got a little teary.

"I love Anne Cathrine, sir. Whatever she thinks, and I don't really think she's as conniving as you do. Just… a seventeenth-century sort of girl. The point is, I've got no problem betrothing her. Uh… I mean, if that's what she wants, too."

To his astonishment, the admiral grinned. The first honest-to-God real grin Eddie had ever seen on Simpson's face.

"What a relief," said the admiral. "My lieutenant's two brain cells finally rubbed together."

He stepped forward, and once again placed his hand on Eddie's shoulder. "Are you sure, Eddie? I'm not going to force you into anything like this." His eyes seemed strangely intent. "Neither is Mike Stearns. If you don't want to do it… Well. Let's just say there are alternatives."

Eddie took a deep breath-not in order to think, simply in order to steady his nerves. Then he laughed softly. "The truth is, sir, I've spent most of the past few months trying to figure out any way I could get involved-really involved, I mean-with Anne Cathrine. I just figured it was hopeless-and now here it's being handed to me on a plate. Oh, yeah, I'm sure. Don't have any doubt about it at all."