“Then this is deeply mysterious,” Pezzini said. “We must have something in common that interests him.”
“You know Castle Krossington and its bureaucracy. I have contacts in General Wardian and potentially with the Westminster Assembly through my family.”
Again, they crouched in silence for some time, thinking.
“Are you going to accept his offer?” Pezzini’s tone was naturally so flat that Lawrence could not guess the spay’s mood.
“Yes.”
“I cannot even contemplate accepting an offer from such a deplorable character.”
“Take the offer and escape later. It will be far easier to escape from the ultramarines than from this place,” Lawrence said.
“Actually, there you are wrong. I would have to take an oath of loyalty. I would have to follow orders. Once one commits an atrocity, the guilt is inside and can never be effaced.”
“It’s a matter of definitions, Big Lil. One man’s atrocity is all in a day’s work for someone else.”
“That is a most flippant thing to say. I sense, however, that it reveals much about your past. I assume you were a glory top killer?”
“Yup. All in the line of duty, Big Lil. You led a nice, safe life at Castle Krossington because top killers like me did the dirty work.”
He half-expected Pezzini simply to get up and walk off back to the Square.
“Tell me, Big Stak, what is your real name?
“Lawrence Aldingford.”
“Ah!” For once, Pezzini expressed a genuine emotion. Lawrence grunted at him to keep his bloody voice down. “Well that is very interesting. Is Donald Aldingford a relation?”
“He’s my elder brother.”
“There is a facial likeness, although you are a battle-scarred thug, while he is quite the gentleman about town. Tom Krossington certainly values him... In fact I would not be surprised if your brother Donald has succeeded me as appointed regent.”
“What’s that?”
“If Tom Krossington drops dead, the appointed regent moderates the Land Council in Haslemere until the members cease their back-stabbing and elect a new head of clan. The appointed regent must be beyond corruption, the epitome of bureaucratic propriety.”
Despite their dangerous situation squatting in the dark amid the vicious marsh savages, perhaps already scanned by SMS London with night glasses, Lawrence had to slam a hand over his mouth to catch a bark of laughter. No one could have bettered such a perfect caricature of unctuous brother Donald.
Pezzini continued thinking out loud.
“I suspect a scenario is unfolding that alarms The Captain. If your brother has succeeded me—and I cannot think of anyone else TK would ask—then he will sit on the Household Cabinet and learn there is something called the Value System that pays rent of twelve thousand Troy ounces of gold per month into the Krossington treasury. He could enquire what happens in this Value System. Or, suppose TK has learned he is dying of cancer? In that case, it is only a matter of time before a new Krossington will be in control. These are great risks that could lead to the Value System being shut. It would appear that we are to be The Captain’s insurance. We are to be hostages.”
Lawrence had listened to all this with rising astonishment. Right here beside him was a man—at any rate, the spayed remainder of a man—who knew everything there was to know. Pezzini had sat in the Household Cabinet of the Krossington clan. He had worked inside the deepest cell of sovereign privacy.
“You’re a stunning catch for The Captain and no mistake,” Lawrence said. “So why did TK send you here?”
“Because he believes this is a safe dustbin. The Captain is hardly going to shout to the world about his Value System, whereas TK could sweep this place away with his marines. That is known as an asymmetric relationship. What TK does not know is that Donald Aldingford’s brother is also in the Value System. That is the leverage The Captain can use. However, The Captain does not know you and I are on intimate terms. That is our leverage. Do you follow me?”
“Not really—I have not spent my life third-guessing the machinations of my rivals.” On reflection, he might have saved his life had he done precisely that.
“Evidently not.”
“In what way are we hostages?”
“Your case is obvious. Imagine that TK nominates Donald as appointed regent. That would not be popular as Donald is an outsider and a commoner. Let us say TK is incapacitated and Donald takes the chair of the Household Cabinet and starts to ask awkward questions. Rumours start to spread through the clubs of the Central Enclave that Donald’s brother is an ultramarine in good standing and a member of the Ultramarine Guild. You appear with The Captain in London society to prove the rumours true. The clan would never tolerate an appointed regent with a brother in the ultramarines. They would kill your brother. I would describe you as The Captain’s 75mm gun; his Long 75.”
“And what’s your calibre?”
“I would destroy the clan. I am The Captain’s 155mm—full Naclaski load. You see, for a sovereign cabinet official to return from the Nameless Gone as an ultramarine would broadcast prime comedy to the public realm. In effect, it would reveal the Krossingtons had permitted escape of their dearest secrets to the ultramarines, the piss of the Earth. The National Party would spread it through the industrial asylums, town society would chatter it through every club, travelling players would act it to the guffaws of every market square of Britain. The Westminster Assembly would never forgive the Krossingtons for having turned their caste into a laughing stock. They would vote to seize the Lands of Krossington and discharge the whole clan to the public drains as surplus flow. Within a day, General Wardian would be enforcing the order and the Lands of Krossington would cease to exist. As for the Value System, its survival would be a matter of negotiation between The Captain and his new landlord. I suspect most sovereigns would appreciate a rent bonus of twelve thousand ounces per month.”
“I follow you, up
