invaded from the north by the polar barbarians, this Army of Shadows the refugees speak of. Would you have us come to the shifties' aid too, send our redcoats outside of our borders to help protect the ancient enemy, compatriot?'
'Come to order, damsons and gentlemen, please,' yelled the speaker as the house descended into uproar.
'Carl by name, and Carlist by nature,' yelled a guardian from the Heartlander party.
The master whip's lictors slapped their coshes menacingly into their palms, trying to bring the frenzied politicians into line. Uncowed, the guardians hooted their rage and threw the remains of their lunch at the enforcers of the chamber's law. It usually paid to have a pocket stuffed with apple cores and half-eaten pies in parliament.
It was time for the First Guardian to play his trump card. 'There is a related matter which I have the grave duty of bringing to the attention of the house. Despite my honourable colleagues supposedly partaking of the many joys of the season's recess, you will no doubt be gratified to hear I already have a tray filled to the brim with complaints from the guardians assembled here today vigorously protesting against the grounding of the aerostat fleet of the merchant marine. The announcement that Admiralty House issued – that all airships had been grounded for maintenance checks following the crash of the RAN Amethyst due to engines clogged with the dust- ridden rain left in the wake of Ashby's Comet – was falsified by cabinet order. By my order.'
Now the house really descended into chaos. They had been lied to, the First Guardian dared do this to them, the elected representatives of the people! A guardian from the Roarer party vaulted the opposition rail and tried to strike Carl across the head with her cane; but the lictors were all over her with their clubs, a tattoo of brutality drummed across her body until the politician slumped into unconsciousness.
'Banned from sitting in the house for a week,' pronounced the speaker from his perch, as the body was dragged to the infirmary by two footmen.
Carl grimaced. It would take twice as long as that for her wounds to heal. He looked at the pensmen and illustrators scribbling frantically in the gallery above. By the Circle, they would have their fun with this day. His voice rose above the bedlam. 'My order was not issued lightly, but to avoid mass panic while parliament was being recalled. The RAN Amethyst was never grounded, it was posted missing. Along with sixteen airships of the merchant marine that disappeared in a single evening. Yesterday, as those of you who were in attendance at Goldhair Park will have noticed, dead circus performers rained down from the sky. I think it is safe to assume that they were not killed by a noxious cloud of vapours widely adrift from the Fire Sea as the penny sheets have been speculating.'
'You are saying these events are connected?' asked Hoggstone, the leader of the opposition's face returning to a more normal shade now he realized how deeply his beloved Kingdom of Jackals stood threatened. Hoggstone's Purist party members took his lead and fell quiet by his side.
'I don't believe in coincidences,' said Carl. 'The Catosian League has collapsed. The north of Quatershift has been invaded. Our airships are being plucked from the sky without a trace like pigeons devoured by hawks. The order of worldsingers is reporting a consistent failure of its most basic sorceries. It is as if our strength, the strength of our great people, is being slowly sapped away by a fever. And who can this state of affairs suit? We have always feared a foreign nation would one day threaten the Jackelians' sovereign rule over our proud skies. That day has now arrived, and while it may be advancing towards us from the north, I doubt if the Army of Shadows comes in the guise of any barbarian horde.'
'But polar barbarians have been sighted on the move by my own clipper captains,' a backbencher called out.
'No doubt fleeing south from the same forces that are occupying Catosia,' said Carl. 'It may be that the Army of Shadows are from one of the continents on the other side of the polar darks. Quadgan, possibly; a crossing over the ice pack passage is still possible this late in the year. What is certain, however, is that if we meekly await our fate within our borders, we cede a vital strategic advantage to the invaders. Our duty to the people is clear! We must act to preserve the kingdom, even if that means intervening in the affairs of our neighbours.'
'A twelve-month repeal of the Statute of Splendid Detachment,' boomed Hoggstone, waving a fist at the members of his own party. 'And I'll take a debating stick to the skull of any man-jack among you that dares to vote against it.'
'I thank the leader of the opposition for rising above narrow party interests. You should know I have already ordered the high fleet to be concentrated at Shadowclock,' said the First Guardian. 'While the Board of War is now mobilizing every regiment of the New Pattern Army, ready to receive our instructions.'
'That's the style, sir,' said Hoggstone. 'Taking a Jackelian merchantman by surprise on her bow is one thing; let's see how these sneaky damn foreign devils like a dozen squadrons of RAN frigates up 'em.'
Gripped by the moment, the mass assemblage of guardians howled their approval. The vote was a foregone conclusion now. Benjamin Carl looked at their faces. Contorted by rage. Haunted by fear. Shown their own weakness, where an hour before they had still laboured under the illusion that their nation was unassailable. Thinking the unthinkable. A foreign war, not a war of defence within the Kingdom of Jackals' acres, but a true war of aggression.
But a war against who? Who were the Army of Shadows?
Duncan Connor looked up from his bed, alerted by the smell of the commodore's seadrinker broth, which Molly was trying hard not to spill as she opened the door to the room.
'Your bruises are fading,' said Molly, putting the food down to take a good look at the sail rider they had pulled from his burning rig in their garden.
Duncan touched his lumpen cheeks. 'I think you're just trying to make me feel better.' He picked up that morning's copy of the Illustrated. 'Aye and thank you for all of this, I've stayed in worse hotels. Far worse, in fact.'
Molly pointed to the line drawing on the front of the newspaper. A portly Jackelian, the cartoonist's everyman, old John Gloater, standing on an outline of the realm and shaking a blunderbuss at a giant, sly-looking polar barbarian from the Army of Shadows while a mob of miniature politicians pushed and shoved the large- bellied yeoman across the border. ''Pon my word,' announced the speech bubble from the Jackelian's mouth, 'this splendid detachment is a right sharp business.'
'Interesting times,' said Molly.
'It seems our army commanders are showing a taste for original thinking the medal-heavy numpties singularly failed to demonstrate when I was in service in the regiments.'
'A soldier? I thought you might have been a jack cloudie,' said Molly. 'Your sail-rider chute…'
'From an old friend in the navy,' said Duncan. 'I served in the Corps of Rocketeers, until myself and the general staff over at House Guards had a wee philosophical difference of opinion over the development of the rocket as a weapon of war. A consideration for you, if you ever fall foul of a recruiting party – never put yourself on the side against tradition, tradition always wins out in the regiments.'
'I believe I'm a little too respectable to be press-ganged now,' said Molly. She didn't elaborate on how things might have gone for her a few years back, though.
'Broth again?'
Molly laid the bowl down on the bedside next to the travel case – the one he had woken up shouting for when he first regained consciousness. Did it hold his campaign medals? Something about Duncan's manner told Molly he would have pawned those off a long time ago. Anybody desperate enough to strap themselves to a rocket would have gone through a lot of trips to the pawnshop first. 'The commodore swears by it.'
'Aye well, you won't find me complaining. As I said yesterday, I'm afraid I'm rather between trades now that the army doesn't require my soldiering and the Circus of the Extreme has no doubt gone bankrupt.'
'You've not remembered any more about your sail jump?'
'Nothing you could make a penny sheet tale out of, I'm afraid, lassie. The force of the rocket launch concussed me during the ride up. And things happened awful fast after that. I remember seeing shapes moving in the clouds. Very big shapes. Then there was just waves of flaming pilots plummeting past me. A wall of fire above me that set my own sail rig ablaze.'
'Aerostats?' said Molly.
Duncan shook his head. 'I've flown on enough RAN airships as regimental steerage to recognize the hull of a
