Storm Breaking

their own internal jockeying for power.

'You can't touch them, Melles,' Thayer warned in an echo of his own thoughts. 'If you try, they'll destroy you. They won't put up with that kind of threat, and they'll close ranks against you. Press it too far, and they'll call a coup against you. Not even your personal guard can protect you against an entire Company coming to kill you.'

'It's gone right down to the rank and file, you say?' he asked, his thoughts swirling as wildly as the snow outside.

Thayer nodded, and Melles cursed them all in his mind. He couldn't even order every General within reach of the capital to come to a meeting, seal the room, and kill them all at once. If he tried, the entire Army itself would rise up in revolt. It was only when the Generals were corrupt and hated by their men that you could get away with a tactic like that.

'We're only in trouble, we aren't defeated yet,' he said at last, as a few ideas began to form out of the chaos. 'They might have good communications, but I have better ones. I have a few more throws of the dice coming, and I can pick the dice.' He began to smile as he saw how he could completely subvert the entire problem.

Thayer regarded him curiously, and with a certain grudging admiration. 'Have you got something up your sleeve that you haven't told me about?'

He nodded. 'I'm not even going to try to deny their rumor, instead I'm going to give them something else entirely to think about. I always have more up my sleeve that I haven't told anyone about,' he replied smugly. 'And you should never underestimate the power of the clerical pen.'

'What you can't find, you can manufacture, hmm?' Thayer hazarded. 'Just what, exactly, do you have in mind? Are you going to give them a different enemy to concentrate on?'

Melles just laughed. 'I won't have to manufacture anything. With enough records to search, I can find just about anything I need, and you know yourself that this Empire creates enough paperwork to fill entire warehouses. Give me a few days and I can find all the right evidence to convince the Army that I'm the one they should be supporting, show them that having a so-called 'baby killer' on the throne is the least of the things they should be worrying about, and in the meantime, I can woo them.'

'Woo them? Like reluctant girls?' Thayer made a rude and suggestive noise, but Melles wasn't offended, now that he had the bit in his teeth.

'Wait and see,' he responded, plans already growing in the back of his mind that would probably astonish the older man. 'Just wait and see.'

Thayer was not convinced, but was certain enough of Melles' competence to be willing to buy him some time to work on the schemes that he promised. Thayer stood up, saying so in as many words.

'Just remember that I can't give you too much more time,' he warned. 'And it's going to take a great deal to overcome the way they feel about the baby incident. I'm still not certain you're taking that seriously enough.'

'Just remember what I told you about the common man and what he needs and wants,' Melles replied. 'Then remember that the Army is composed of those same common men—just with a little more training and a bit of discipline.'

'Hmm.' Thayer looked thoughtful at that, and took his leave. As soon as he was gone, Melles called in all five of his private secretaries.

They were all men, like his valet, of varied talents and some interesting training. All five of them were so nondescript that no one would ever notice them in a crowd. And all of them were adept at getting into even the most carefully guarded records, simply by knowing how to impersonate virtually any type of clerk in the Empire and how to forge anything but the Imperial Seal. When a clerk arrived with appropriate documentation and a request to see something, or even to carry it away, it took a hardier and more independent soul than existed in the Imperial Civil Service to challenge him.

'You—' he said, pointing to the first in line. 'I want you to go over the military pay records, find out all the units with pay in arrears, and who is in charge of their pay.' He pointed to the next two. 'You and you—go through the records of the units sent to take Hardorn. I want you to match up the requests for supplies and reinforcements with the orders issued to fill those requests. I also want the record of every request that was denied, and on whose authority.' He pointed to the last two. 'You two get access to Emperor Charliss' private papers, or at least the ones that are in the Archives. I want all the correspondence between Tremane and Charliss from the time he left for Hardorn to his last known message. Go!'

The five clerks departed, scattering like quail before the hunter. He didn't need to give them any further orders about how to get access to those papers; one of the reason that these men were no longer in the civil service was that they had initiative. Neither initiative nor creativity were rewarded in the Imperial Civil Service, and those with both often grew frustrated and looked for employment elsewhere.

Melles next called in his private treasurer.

'You get down to the Imperial Exchequer. I want to know how much out of the military budget can be spared in hard coin and how much in goods. Tell the Exchequer that I suspect the Army's pay has been bollixed up, and we may have to make good in a hurry if we don't want trouble on our hands.' He thought for a moment, and dredged up