Темное, кривое зеркало. Том 3 : След на песке

Sonovar took a quick step back and extended his pike. 'Fight me. Kill me, Kozorr, and I will let you go. I will let her go as well.'

'Minbari do not kill Minbari. You may have forgotten that, but I have not.'

'You were willing to kill Kalain to save your worker whore. Are you not ready to do the same now, to save her again?'

'Where is she?'

'Maybe she is on this ship, maybe she is with Sinoval, and maybe she is dead. Fight me, and I will tell you.'

'I have no interest in your lies!'

'Minbari do not lie. You said as much yourself.'

'You have lied to me, Sonovar. If you cannot keep that law, then how can I believe you will respect any of the others? You are no warrior. You are a killer.'

'Maybe I am. Maybe I am not. Fight me, Kozorr. Earn for yourself…. or for me…. a true warrior's death. Beyond the wild, impartial skies…. a true and glorious end. To die in battle, can there be any greater glory? Fight me.'

He lowered his pike, and stood silent.

'Dare you take the risk of letting me live? What if you kill me, Kozorr? Your…. Primarch Sinoval will be happy with you, will he not? And regardless, you will have ended a threat to his people. Or are you a coward? Has that worker bitch of yours sapped all your will? You were willing to die before! Why not now?'

Anger filling his eyes, Kozorr lifted his pike and sprang forward.

Sonovar smiled as he raised his own blade to block it.

* * *

A rope around the neck. A death for peasants, for farmers, for the lowest dregs of Centauri society. Certainly not a death Lord Jarno had ever expected for himself. He was after all a noble of the mighty Centauri Republic and as such he was entitled to certain…. privileges.

He stood at the window, looking out at the gallows in the square beneath his cell. His status brought him one advantage anyway; his last days would be spent in a luxurious palace room, rather than a dark and cold prison.

'You do not have to go through with this, Jarno,' said a voice from behind him. Normally, anyone who heard that voice would be expected to be honoured, to snap to attention, to answer and reply with all the respect due to the Emperor of the entire Republic, but if there was one advantage impending death conferred, it was the right to defy certain…. conventions.

'No, I know,' he said softly, not turning round. 'But it is…. the right thing to do. No noble of this Court has attacked the household of another in centuries…. until me. I saw what was happening in the Court and I did nothing, letting weakness swing me forward and back, never able to take any decisive action.

'No…. I am ready to die.'

'Yes,' replied the Emperor, 'I understand that. I do not agree with it, perhaps. Our new Government could benefit much from you, Jarno. A great deal.'

'I have nothing to offer, and my presence at your side would only alienate Kiro's followers. With my death you at least stand a chance of bringing them over to your side. Consider this…. my last service to the Republic.'

There was an exasperated tutting from behind him. Jarno still did not turn around. Partly this was because he did not want to see the face of someone who had been…. never a true friend, but always a respected peer. But also he could not take his eyes from the means of his execution. It was a truly sobering sight.

'Yes. I understand that, and I commend you for it, Jarno. But…. why like this? I could…. arrange for something to be placed in your food, or your drink. It would be quick and painless. You will drift away in your sleep, and you will be buried with all the status your rank deserves.'

Jarno was silent for a moment, speculating on the manner of Lord Valo's death. He had heard the story being disseminated, but he did not believe it for a moment. He knew the truth, and he wondered if Valo had been more…. accommodating than he was.

'No. I do not deserve such a quick death, or such a…. noble funeral. A rope around the neck at dawn, a pauper's pyre. Nothing more.'

'That is…. not fair…. You were misled and manipulated. We both know who is to blame.'

'I…. have no idea of whom you are speaking,' Jarno lied. He knew very well.

'Mariel. My dear, loving wife. The attack on Kiro was her idea, was it not? Come, Jarno. We both know the truth. Why do you defend her?'

'Defend her?' He laughed. A bitter laugh, with no genuine mirth. 'I am not defending her. She has…. she will pay for her actions in her own way, and I assure you, Majesty, I will escape far more easily than she will.'

'What are you talking about?'

'A prophecy…. A dying prophecy. One third of it has already come true. At dawn tomorrow, another third will have come to pass. Destiny will not allow Mariel to escape her part.' He paused and flicked his gaze to the ground, away from the gallows. He then turned to look briefly at his new Emperor. Londo looked…. tired. He could barely have been sleeping even before his inauguration.

'Where…. where is Mariel now?' Jarno asked tentatively.

'Under close guard…. for her personal safety of course,' Londo replied bitterly. 'I regret I can take no real action against her…. not so soon in my reign and not without constructive proof. As it is, I will send her to one of my outlying estates. Perhaps among the rebuilding projects at Camulodo. She will of course be under heavy armed guard all the time. For her own personal safety.

'It is preferable to the fate Timov would have in mind for her.'

Jarno smiled, and nodded. 'I…. thank you for coming to visit me, Majesty. I hope I can serve the Republic better in death than I did in life.'

Londo nodded, and then turned and left. His strange Minbari companion at the door waited for the Emperor to depart, and then stepped outside. There was the sound of a bolt sliding shut.

Jarno did not care. He had returned to gaze at his gallows, and his death.

* * *

I am not afraid. I've faced down ancient ships that screamed in my mind. I've stood against Minbari warships that wanted to destroy me. I've looked at aliens that made me want to run and hide in terror. I've looked into the eyes of my best friend, both of us knowing he'll never move again.

I've done all that…. and I've never been so scared in my entire life.

I will ask her. I will ask her.

Commander David Corwin sighed and leaned back against the wall. He had been planning this for a long time, but he had never been able to find the nerve before. It had been so easy just to put it off. But then, fighting a desperate, doomed struggle to defend Epsilon 3, he had realised just how close he had come to death, and had made a silent promise to ask her.

But now it was all in ashes. He had survived, yes, but why him? Michael was dead, the Captain would never move below his neck again. Bester had betrayed them all. Susan was…. here….

What right have I got to think of a future, when there are so many people who don't have one any longer?

But that was it, surely? There were so many who had lost their futures, and he hadn't. He had to recognise his good fortune, had to live for the moment of life he had gained by surviving the battle. He had to….

'Yes?' came the voice through the comm. 'Who is it?' She did not sound well. He supposed he couldn't blame her.

'It's me, Mary,' he replied. 'It's David.'

'Oh,' she said softly. 'Come in.'

The door opened and he entered, patting at his pocket to be sure the small box was still there. It was. It seemed so heavy.

Mary was seated on the couch, a book lying open at her feet. She rose as he entered, and he could see just how dreadful she looked. Her eyes were heavy, her face gaunt and haggard. She was still in her nightdress, which was rumpled and dirty.