Act 2 - Bargaining[]
With A Bared Sword[]
Chapter 33[]
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The Triad, Tharkad
Donegal March, Federated Commonwealth
16 May 3057
Victor rarely used the Archon’s personal chapel. But today he found it convenient.
Joshua Marik was dead. Despite the dedicated efforts of the medical team working at the secure ward in one of NAIS’ many hidden corners, the boy had slipped away two days before and the news had just reached the Archon-Prince.
The youth’s family could not mourn him, since Victor had denied them the knowledge of his fate. It seemed that the least he could do was light a candle and pray for a child taken too soon.
I’m sorry. He cast the weak words into the ether, as if Joshua could hear him now. I will tell them when I can. This too is a sacrifice of royalty, for the sake of sparing other children from war. I just need a little time. Six months, less if I can.
The letters were ready already. A series of messages to be sent over the course of two weeks, warning Kathy, Thomas and (on paper) Victor that the Captain-General's son was fading fast. The doctors who prepared them for Victor were among those who had cared for Joshua in his final days and their emotions bled through when the Steiner-Davion read them. In the end, not much had been changed, the dates were just blank.
It would be all but impossible for Thomas Marik to make it from Atreus to New Avalon in time if he tried, and the exact schedule of the decline could be nudged if necessary. The imposter might have been able to deceive the real boy’s father, but why take the chance? The stasis tube used for Melissa Steiner-Davion’s funeral had been repurposed and the real Joshua’s body would be ready.
Had his father ever felt like this? Victor wished he could ask him.
“Your highness,” an aide - not Galen, he was covering for Victor’s absence from the Archon’s office, managing the usual influx of reports - said politely. “You have a visitor.”
He sighed and then pushed himself to his feet. The Archon-Prince’s work was never done. “Who is it?”
“Duchess Aten, your highness.”
Victor sat down on the single pew and turned his head towards the side-door. “Send her in.” He could talk to her here, but after that he would need to get back to Galen.
Margaret Aten was almost two decades older than his mother would have been, but looking at the gray touching her hair reminded Victor that he was measuring her against someone who would never age any further. Melissa Steiner-Davion would always remain in her prime in his memory, but one day her children would be older than she had been.
“Your grace,” he said, “Please join me.”
She went to the altar first and genuflected before sitting on the pew next to him, just outside of arm’s reach. “I haven’t been here in a long time.”
“Visiting my mother?”
“Your grandmother.” The duchess leant back against the wooden back of the pew and looked over at the altar again. “I was about your age at the time.” She shook her head. “I spoke to Sarah. I gather you did as well.”
“It wasn’t an easy conversation,” he admitted, “I doubt yours was easier.”
“She asked you to spare Richard? How much of a fool did I raise?” Aten asked rhetorically.
“To a degree I can respect that. She asked nothing for herself.”
“She truly loves that bastard. More than she does her own family!”
Victor sighed. “I promised our people that there would be no deals. No pardons due to rank or family connections.”
“That was the right thing to do,” Aten agreed. “I also spoke to Hermione.”
Victor said nothing.
“My daughters are blind to their husband’s faults. That is my failure as a parent. What can they expect?”
He doubted that the youngest Aten was as innocent as their mother wished to believe. “The evidence strongly suggests that Sarah was a dupe. Unless there are any surprises, she will be stripped of her title and any succession rights. She was hardly the only person fooled by my cousins and while it cannot be without consequence… most of them will get a second chance.”
“And Hermione?” The mother was speaking, not the duchess.
“That’s less clear.”
“She never took up arms against you.”
Victor felt his eyes narrow and paused before speaking, taking a moment to avoid snapping. “She incited others to do so. Their blood, and that they spilled, is on her hands.”
“I trust then, that you will not object to my seeing that my daughters have the best legal defenses money can buy?”
“Not at all. Every family has the right to defend their own.” He would not object, because that would be politically problematic. But would Margaret Aten extend that fierce loyalty to the militias and volunteers who had fought for those who usurped her place on Skye? Victor doubted it. The three Steiners on trial would also have excellent legal teams, although it would be their personal fortunes that financed them. He had cut them off from the Steiner trust, both as beneficiaries and - in the case of Ryan - as a trustee.
Treason opened the death penalty as an option for the courts. High treason demanded it. And he doubted that anyone except Sarah Steiner believed he would exercise his rights as Archon-Prince to issue pardons or to mitigate the sentences given by the courts.
They should be glad he had no legal right to summarily sentence them. Victor himself had no idea what he would do if that was an option. The temptation would be powerful, he was sure.
“We will need to schedule your formal reinstatement,” he said. “Legally speaking, it will wait until after Sarah’s trial. I hope you understand that she is entirely unacceptable to me as duchess of Skye, even if the verdict allows her to retain some secondary titles.”
Aten’s eyes misted over slightly. “I understand that… but I do not plan to resume office as Duchess. I have failed there, at least as much as I have as a mother.”
“That’s hardly necessary,” Victor objected. She had been the victim of the coup, not its instigator. There was no need for Aten to do this. Was she trying to bargain with him?
She shook her head. “No, I believe that it is. My abdication was coerced, yes, but I would be returning with the baggage of failure. It is better for there to be a clean slate. My daughter Ilse is not tarred by failure or treason. And perhaps it is best for power to pass to your generation now.”
“And what would you do then?”
“I would hardly be going into poverty,” Aten said. “Charity work, perhaps. I never had the time to do as much as I wanted for the poor of Skye, and their needs will be greater now than ever in the aftermath of the Revolt.”
“I personally think you have done more, and would be able to do more, by directing the government of the March,” Victor told her reluctantly. “But the choice is yours.”