23
The city of Sarghad had gone mad. Dressed in cold-weather jackets, swarms of people gathered under the harsh overhead lights that kept the long night at bay, their breath making clouds of steam in the chill, Secondnight air. The cheers, the sight of the people waving, leaping, dancing in the streets, were broadcast on the huge visor that curved out from one wall of the palace Reception Hall. A convoy was making its way toward the Palace past the cheering throngs on streets lit bright as day. From a staff on the lead hovercraft in the convoy fluttered the black and red dragon flag of the Draconis Combine.
Grayson had dressed and hurried across to the Palace as soon as he heard the news. The Guards Colonel reporting the scene had sounded bouyant, almost jubilant, at the news that Kurita forces had arrived to save Trellwan from Hendrik of Oberon. Could these people possibly be so overjoyed at what was clearly an out-and-out invasion? The Combine was not known to be particularly charitable toward independent planets. Couldn't the Trells see the danger?
The Reception Hall was crowded with people, the wealthy and powerful of Sarghad and, no doubt, other cities of Trellwan as well. When the news of the ships' arrival had broken, the people had come straight to the Palace, little doubting that their future, and the future of the planet, would be settled here within the hour.
Grayson still wore his green and gold dress Guards uniform, the only one he had. He had to try to reach King Jeverid, though he knew it would not be easy. Jeverid was shielded from his people by a thick bureaucratic layer of secretaries and court functionaries that had accumulated around the royal office over the past several centuries.
At that moment, curtains on the hall's platform parted, but instead of the King, General Adel and various of his staff officers appeared there. With them was Lieutenant... no, CaptainNolem, flanked by richly adorned Royal Guards in full dress. Grayson scanned the crowd gathered around the platform. The Militia was conspicuous by its absence, and Varney was nowhere to be seen. Had he fallen so far from favor?
Grayson began working his way through the throng toward the stage, where the General and his officers stood before the empty throne. Where is Jeverid? he wondered, when suddenly his way was blocked by a pair of helmeted and armored Guards soldiers, carrying TK rifles. "Sorry, sir," one said. "You can't go through there."
Perhaps he could use the force of his uniform. "Stand aside, soldier! I am Lieutenant Carlyle of the First Lancers. I must see His Majesty!"
Doubt crossed the soldier's face. "I'm sorry, sir, but unless you have a pass signed by General Adel..."
"If I had a pass, I would have shown it to you! I tell you, I must see His Majesty! It's vitally important!"
The soldier hesitated, and Grayson thought for an instant that his bluff had worked. Then he could see the soldier resolving to do only as he was told. "I'm sorry, sir, but you'll have to go through proper channels."
"What's the problem here?" It was Adel, with Nolem close behind. The General swept cold eyes over Grayson. "What do YOU want?"
"General, sir! I must see His Majesty!"
"About what?"
"These Kuritists, sir, being welcomed like heroes. They're the enemy!"
Adel's brows beetled, a frown pulling at his face. He rubbed thoughtfully at his mustache with one finger.
"Enemy? I know of no declaration of war between Trellwan and the Draconis Combine. You overstep yourself, sir."
Somehow Grayson managed to control his thoughts, to steady himself and his speech. "General, I have reason to believe that this is all some kind of a plot."
Adel and Nolem both laughed. "So, it's plots now, is it?" Nolem seemed vastly amused. "We might have expected that from a Commonwealther, I suppose. Eh, General?"
"Ha! Indeed. Lord Ricol was particularly interested in what young Carlyle here might have to say."
Grayson's eyes opened wide. "This Duke Ricol knew about me? How?"
"Oh, he has ways, I'm sure. He said you might object to a Combine presence on Trellwan."
Object? Grayson could see in his mind the three-D map projection that his tutor, Ari, used to display the Cis-Peripheral sectors of Commonwealth space. The red dwarf Trell lay nearest — in astronomical terms — to stars ruled by Hendrik of Oberon and to other stars claimed by Kurita's Draconis Combine. The war, sometimes overt, sometimes covert, between the Combine and the Commonwealth, had dragged on for year after standard year. The whole purpose of Representative Vogel's Pact had been to free garrisons like Carlyle's Commandos for service against Kurita closer in toward the Inner Sphere. Hendrik was to have taken over the defense of Trellwan, and with it, defense of this entire sector against the predations of the Combine. The irony was that now Kurita was establishing himself here instead.
Trellwan would be nearly ideal as an advance base of operations against the Commonwealth. A fleet could base and refuel there, could strike deep at worlds of the Commonwealth that had never suffered Combine raids. They could strike even at the capital, at Tharkad itself.
"General," Grayson tried desperately to sound calm. These men were laughing at him! "Minister, Trellwan is so important to the security of the Commonwealth..."
"We're not interested in what is important or not important to the Commonwealth. You seem to forget, Carlyle, that this is our world, not yours."
"General, the Lancers... the Tenth Regiment is under your command now. You must realize that the Kuritists won't let you keep those Mechs.
Adel nodded agreeably. "Of course. I spoke at length with the Duke's representative just a short while ago, by visor. Trellwan will no longer need an independent 'Mech Lance. Company E of the Tenth guards Regiment is to be incorporated entirely into the personal forces of Duke Ricol. That is a singular honor, you must realize, youngster. I assumed the force would be disbanded, but when he heard of your success against the Oberon pirates, he decided the unit could be transferred to his own command."
"General, you can't let them do this!"
Adel seemed to lose patience. He gestured to Nolem, who snapped at one of the soldiers, "You. Take this man and put him under arrest"
"Sir! You're making a mistake!"
Nolem sneered. "We made a mistake the day we depended on the Commonwealthers for help! Take him away!"
As the soldiers were taking Grayson by the arms, a tall, heavy, black-bearded figure appeared at the top of the stairs. It must be Duke Ricol, Grayson thought. The man wore a uniform that was of a single piece from boots to gloves, entirely red except for the black trim and silver fastenings at waist, throat, and breast He bore on his left upper arm and shoulder the highly stylized shield cloak now stylish among worlds of the Inner Sphere. Red-trimmed with black and silver, the cloak curved from his shoulder around behind his head like the collar of a stiff-necked cape, and fastened to his right shoulder with silver chains that glittered in the light as he moved.
Behind him were his personal guards, also in red, but in uniforms and armor that looked far more military than their Duke's Finery. The butts of service auto pistols rode above holsters worn low on their hips, and their faces were masked by featureless, black plastic visors beneath their helmets.
Ricol spoke, hands on hips, his voice booming across the crowd, which stood in hushed expectation. "Do I have the honor of addressing the government of Trellwan?"
Adel saluted the Red Duke. "His Majesty has been detained, my Lord. He will be with us presently."