Conqueror

'However,' he went on, 'Governor Barholm has stated that any reversal of policy is premature.' Raj relaxed.

'Not until we've got the Brigaderos safely under his thumb,' Kaltin said with cold cynicism. 'Then he'll send in the Viral Cleansers.'

probability 96 % ±2 within five years of successful pacification, Center said, consequences-

I can imagine. 'We'll take the problems one at a time,' Raj said.

Muzzaf turned pages. 'The soldier's market will be held in the main square,' he went on. Troopers were generally expected to buy their own rations out of their pay when the army wasn't on the march, and an efficient market was important to morale and health. More armies had died from bad food and runny guts than all the bullets and sabers ever made. The markets Muzzaf supervised were generally very efficient. 'Bulk supplies are coming in with acceptable speed, since we pointed out that the Government receipts used to pay for them are exchangeable against taxes. In fact, a secondary market in receipts has arisen.'

Raj blinked in bewilderment, then waved aside the explanation. He'd abandoned attempts to understand that sort of thing when Kerpatik tried to tell him how you could make money by buying tobacco that hadn't been planted yet on land you didn't own and then selling it before it was harvested. Every word he'd said had been in Sponglish, but it might as well have been an Azanian witch doctor explaining the esoterica of his craft. The cobbler should stick to his last, and I to the sword, he thought.

'And I have coordinated the six-month receipts for your personal accounts with Lady Whitehall and your clerks.'

Raj accepted the paper, raised his brows at the total, and handed it back. For himself he'd as soon have just bought land with his share of the plunder; it was the traditional safe investment, even successful merchants always tried to buy an estate. Kerpatik had convinced him-convinced Suzette, actually-that it would be better to spread it out in part-shares of the new combined capital ventures all over the Civil Government. It certainly seemed to work, and was less trouble even than collecting rents. For that matter, he'd be content to live from his pay and the income from Hillchapel, the Whitehall estate in Descott. Wealth was a tool, occasionally useful but not central to his work.

'And the special equipment will arrive from Hayapalco within the month.'

'Good work, Muzzaf. My thanks.'

'Oh, and Kaltin,' Raj said.

They heeled their dogs out to follow the last infantry unit; the 7th Descott Rangers were bringing up the rear, and the troopers raised a baying cheer to see their Major and Raj fall in below their banner, a running war-hound over the numeral seven and the unit motto: Fwego Erst-Shoot First. The dogs joined in, a discordant but somehow musical belling.

'Suzette and I are having a small get-together tonight,' Raj went on. 'Provided we can get those imbeciles-' he nodded toward the fortress '-to stop showing how brave they are by shelling the slums. The usual thing, reassure the local grandees; we need them cooperative. I know you're busy, but why don't you drop by?'

Gruder looked over at him; the left side of the Companion's face was lined with parallel white scars, legacy of the Colonial pompom shell that had also scattered his younger brother's brains across his torso.

'I, ah, have-'

'A billet that just happens to contain a pretty young widow?' Kaltin Gruder was not nicknamed 'The Rooster' by his men for nothing.

Kaltin coughed into one hand. 'Grass widow, actually.'

'Leave her or bring her,' Raj said offhand. The Companion eyed him narrowly. 'Everyone will be there. Old friends, like Messer Reggiri.'

They were passing a lone Star Spirit priest, come out to bless the representatives of Holy Federation Church. Kaltin's sudden clamp of legs around the barrel of his dog made the animal skitter sideways in an arc that nearly smashed the unfortunate cleric against the wrought-iron grillwork of a courtyard door.

'Sorry, Reverend Father,' the Descotter cast over his shoulder, as his usual skills reasserted themselves and the mount went dancing back in a sidling arc to Raj's side.

'I don't need a new dog, or a slavegirl,' Gruder said. Kaltin had led the escort party that took Suzette to Reggiri's manor for a dinner-party Raj was too busy to attend. The officers in that escort had all been sent off with lavish gifts; it was notable that Kaltin Gruder had sold the dog immediately. Although he'd kept the girl, a redhead of Stalwart background named Mitchi.

'Oh, I somehow suspect Messer Reggiri will be giving us all gifts,' Raj said quietly.

The two Descotters met each other's eyes. After a moment, they began to smile.

* * *

'Why thank you, Cabot,' Suzette said, fanning herself and taking the glass of punch.

The ballroom was bright with oil lanterns and hot, despite the tall glass doors that stood open to the early summer night Couples swirled across the marble, bright gowns and jewels and uniforms glittering under the chandeliers. A band of steel drums, sitars and flutes filled the room with soft music; few of the revellers bothered to look up at the fortress on the bluffs, silhouetted against the great arc of Maxiluna. Suzette sang softly to the slow sweep of the music:

'If every man does all he can-

If every man be true

Then we shall paint the sky above

In Federation blue. .'

'Are those the words to that tune?' Cabot asked.

They were leaning on the railing just outside the windows, looking down over the city. There were fewer lights than usual, except the reddish glow of the fires that persisted long after the shelling had ceased in accordance with the twenty-four hour truce. The flames gave a brimstone tinge to the air, under the breeze coming in from the sea and the gardens of the Commander's palace.

'Very old words, but old songs are a hobby of mine,' Suzette said, leaning a little closer.

'Very true, too,' Cabot replied. He looked up at the fortress, and his strong young swordsman's hands closed on the fretted bronze and iron of the rail. 'If we'd all just work at it, that barb wouldn't be up there laughing at us.'

Suzette put a hand on his forearm. 'I rather think Colonel Courtet is feeling more inclined to gnash his teeth, at the moment, Cabot. Since this is his residence we're dancing in.'

The young man shook off his mood. 'Another dance?' he said.

She shook her head, laughing and tapping him on the shoulder with her fan. 'Do you want the other ladies to scratch my eyes out? Four quadrilles in a row with the Governor's nephew! Poor things, it's not often they get the chance to whirl in the arms of a handsome gallant from the capital, and here I'm monopolizing you.'

'Provincial frumps,' Cabot said, bowing over her hand 'Let them suffer-and make me happy.'

'Later, you scamp. Let an old woman have a chance to catch her breath.'

'Old!' he said breathlessly, tightening his grip on her hand 'You-you're as ageless and as beautiful as the Stars themselves.'

'Now you'll get me in trouble with the Church.'

Not to mention that at several years short of thirty it was early days to be calling her ageless.

'Nonsense; I'll proclaim a new dispensation from the Chair.'

Don't let your uncle hear you talking like that, she thought. He doesn't have much of a sense of humor.

'Later, Cabot. I really do need some rest and it's a sin for a dancer like you to be wasted even for an hour. I'll meet you later by the fountain.'

She watched him go, tapping her chin thoughtfully with the fan. 'Hello, Hadolfo,' she said, as Reggiri leaned against the railing in turn.

The black and silver of his jacket and breeches made a contrast with her white-on-white torofib silk and the platinum-and-diamond hairnet that drifted in veils of mesh around her bare shoulders. He had a weathered seaman's tan, and there were calluses on the hand that held hers as he made his bow.