his grandfather has stripped away from them. Now, with the chancellor's betrayal and subsequent death, the king intended to strip those privileges and powers away from them again.
Not immediately. He had many more pressing matters to attend to first. But it was now clear to him that his grandfather had been right after all. The great man who had founded their line in Sweden had understood something that Gustav Adolf himself had had to learn the hard way-a smart dynasty bases itself on the populace, not on the nobility.
There had been another change in Kristina since he'd seen her last. This one more subtle but just as unmistakable. The girl was simply more cheerful than she'd been before. More at ease in her father's presence, less anxious, less needful of being the constant center of attention. Yet no less affectionate.
Caroline Platzer deserved much of the credit for that transformation, he knew-and silently patted himself on the back for having ignored the complaints about the American woman from the princess' other ladies in waiting. She had become something in the way of a surrogate mother for the girl, in the way the world's very best governesses could manage.
But there was another influence at work also, which the emperor did not miss either.
Prince Ulrik of Denmark. A young man with depths that Gustav Adolf had only half-seen before. To name just one: the dynasty's position in the newly-formed Union of Kalmar had also grown stronger. And that was well- nigh amazing. Had anyone told Gustav Adolf what was about to happen on the eve of the Battle of Lake Bledno, he would have sworn King Christian of Denmark would take advantage of the crisis to destroy the Union.
Yet, he hadn't. Gustav Adolf was quite sure that was mostly because of Ulrik. Not even so much because of his direct influence on his father but simply because of his existence. His nature, as it were. A drunk he might be, and given to grandiosity, but Christian IV was also exceedingly intelligent. On some level he must have realized that any actions he took against the Union of Kalmar would only damage his son's prospects-which were far greater than his own.
Even royal fathers are sometimes capable of putting their children's welfare first.
As Gustav Adolf would now have to do himself. He'd had another seizure on the barge, halfway through his voyage here-and this one had not been triggered off by any rage. It had come completely as a surprise to everyone, even Dr. Nichols. The lesson from the experience, which the American medician had drummed home at tedious length, was that the emperor had to accept the fact that he was now forced to operate within certain understood constraints. For how long? Quite possibly the rest of his life.
That meant he needed to develop surrogates. Men he trusted-but they also had to be men with enormous talents.
A rare combination, that. He'd thought he'd found it once before with Axel Oxenstierna. Being fair-to himself as well as his former chancellor-that productive relationship has lasted for a quarter of a century and might well have lasted for another, had Gustav Adolf not been struck down at Lake Bledno. Oxenstierna was hardly the first man to succumb to great temptation. Had the temptation never arisen, he probably would have remained faithful to his dying day.
Now, the emperor needed to find a replacement for Oxenstierna. And by great good fortune, he thought he'd found three: a son, a cousin and a brother of sorts. Perhaps the Lutheran pastors were correct and God did favor Sweden. It was tempting to think so, certainly. But temptation was ever Satan's favored tool.
Gustav Adolf had already had one long private talk with Ulrik since his arrival in Magdeburg. Two things had come out of it; one specific, one general.
The specific result had been that he'd decided to accept Ulrik's judgment that there had been something hidden in the murder of his wife. Some dark scheme that lay behind it, quite different from the conclusions one might draw from the superficial evidence. So, he'd put Ulrik in charge of ferreting out the truth.
Or rather, overseeing the ferret-that Norwegian of his, whose mechanical talents were but a veneer over more ancient and grimmer skills.
The general result had been the first step in a long journey they would take together. A king needed an heir, and an emperor needed one even more. A male heir, if at all possible. Women could rule, and sometimes even effectively-witness the great English queen of the past century. But in the nature of things their position was always a bit tenuous. Far better if their reign could be buttressed by a consort who could double as a king-in-all- but-name.
So, as time passed, a son-in-law would eventually become a son. As close to it as possible, at any rate.
As for the cousin, Gustav Adolf's trust and confidence in Erik Haakanson Hand had proven to be fully justified.
That left the brother of sorts. In the long and often bloody history of monarchy, nothing posed so great a threat to a king as his brothers-yet, at times, could be his greatest strength.
The first outcome was by far the most likely, of course. The Ottomans had made a veritable heathen cult of imperial fratricide. But you didn't need to venture into exotic lands to find the same phenomenon. Next door in France, Monsieur Gaston had been plotting ceaselessly for years against his brother Louis XIII, the rightful king. And while the plots of the newly crowned Fernando I in the Netherlands against his brother Philip III of Spain were not-yet, at least-of such deadly intent, they had still ripped Philip's realm in half.
Still, it wasn't always so. In his long struggle to retain his throne during the English civil wars of the fifteenth century, Edward IV's staunchest supporter had been his brother Richard, the duke of Gloucester. (His other brother George, however, betrayed him as royal brothers more commonly did.) It was true that after Edward's death his brother Richard was accused of having murdered the two legitimate heirs in order to take the throne himself. But Gustav Adolf was skeptical of that claim, given that it was advanced by the man who had overthrown Richard himself.
Even if the tale were true, however, it simply reinforced the lesson. More than anything, a crippled king needed men close to the throne he could rely upon-but not so close that they could succeed to the throne themselves. Princes, as it were, forever barred from becoming kings in their own name.
One other thing was obvious. Gustav Adolf and Mike Stearns would no doubt clash until one or the other fell into his grave. But there were very few men in the world he now trusted as much. His daughter might very well owe her life to the man. She certainly owed him her inheritance. Without Stearns, there would be no United States of Europe. And when the crisis came, he had placed its survival above any ambitions of his own.
Few kings in history had had more faithful brothers. Precious few.
By their nature, of course, princes worthy of the name had goals and demands of their own. It was just silly to think otherwise. But so long as they could be trusted, acceptable solutions could always be found.
So. Once more, it was time to negotiate. The Golden King would struggle again with the Prince of Germany. With him, certainly, but…not exactly against him. It would almost be a like a family reunion. In a manner of speaking.
Chapter 55
The United States of Europe All of the major newspapers in the country and many of the smaller ones came out with the story the next morning. It didn't matter what day of the week they normally published. It didn't matter whether they were morning papers or evening papers. Even if the edition was just a one-page special edition, nothing more than a glorified leaflet, they all published something.
The headline varied from city to city and province to province, but the gist was essentially the same: the prince arrives in magdeburg summoned to the palace by the emperor Darmstadt, Province of the Main After everyone on the city council finished reading the news report, the major cleared his throat.
'We'll just have to wait and see what happens.'
The militia commander shook his head. 'We're fucked is what's going to happen.'
One of the city council members made a face. 'You can't say that for sure, Gerlach.'
'You watch,' said the militia commander. 'The emperor will be putty in the Prince's hands. He'll cave in across the board.'
Nobody said anything. In their heart of hearts, they were pretty sure he was right. Augsburg, one of the
