Темное, кривое зеркало. Том 3 : След на песке.

And the rift slowly, ever so slowly, begins to slip away from him.

* * *

Lyta Alexander screams and falls to the floor. Her strength is gone. Her will is gone. She can hear Kosh imploring her to continue, but she cannot move.

The Shadow ships come forward now….

* * *

They came to the Court, called by one they hated, or feared, or wanted to be close to. There had been a great deal of speculation on who would be the next Emperor, but the matter was by now resolved, at least in most minds. All the other viable candidates had been removed from contention.

Malachi was rumoured to be very ill, and in any case he had refused the honour when it was offered. He had done a magnificent job of holding everything together through such difficult times, and he would no doubt have a place in the new Government, but he was old and ill. Younger blood was called for. Jarno, a former First Minister, had overplayed his hand. In attacking the estate of a fellow noble he had become too dangerous for the Court. He was currently in hiding, evading charges of treason. Kiro, a popular choice among such of the old guard as had supported Refa, was dead. Marrago and Valo were both dead, or disgraced, or missing, or combinations of the three. Londo Mollari was a traitor and a regicide.

That left only one, and of course he had been the natural choice, everyone muttered to themselves. I've always said so. The blood of the old Emperor in him. Young blood. Enthusiastic. Just the type we need. Oh, those rumours are clearly false, base accusations. A young, vibrant leader, yes, just what we need to lead us into the next century (some eight years away, by the Centauri calender).

Cartagia listened to all this, and smiled knowingly. He knew perfectly well that they believed him to be a madman, and they were all secretly planning how to advance their own ambitions around him. Elrisia was receiving all manner of gifts, promises and favours.

Cartagia watched this little dance, and smiled to himself. Let Elrisia do as she wished, he did not care any more. There might have been a time he would have liked her at his side, but his plans had…. changed recently. Knowledge is power, as the Centauri say, and so Cartagia was the most powerful man in the Republic.

He even had a faint idea of what the old man Malachi had been up to. It hadn't taken too much working out, either. Everyone knew the one little detail they needed to work it out, they just…. pretended not to know. People did not apply themselves properly, that was the problem.

He considered calling a meeting with Malachi before this was all over. Tell the old man what he knew. No, let him suspect. Malachi had practically written the book on Courtly life after all. Better by far to let him suspect and wonder, than know.

Cartagia nodded and smiled at the nobles fawning at his feet. He spoke to each one briefly in turn. He accepted numerous offers from not entirely unattractive ladies, offers that he had no intention of following up. He made promises of promotion and recognition, and gave thanks for support.

And he waited patiently.

Elrisia was looking particularly beautiful. It must have taken her a great deal of effort. Not to mention time. And such a pity, it would all be wasted.

How was that Minbari doing? Cartagia hoped his timing had been accurate. It would be very embarrassing to have Lennier running around free before the festivities started.

Covered in blood, a guard half-ran, half-hobbled into view. "We are under attack," he gasped. "The Palace is…. is under attack!"

There was pandemonium. Cartagia smiled. Ah. About time.

* * *

"People of Tarolin Two! Hear my words, and thank me for your lives!"

Sonovar stood in his column of light, a deliberate replication of the Hall of the Grey Council, now long since despoiled and desecrated. He knew this would be broadcast all over the planet. His words would be heard. Whether they were understood or not, heeded or not…. well…. not even Valen had been perfect.

"You chose to side with one who has abandoned everything from our past. You have turned your backs on the Grey Council, on Valen's wisdom and laws, on centuries of tradition, and duty, and honour. Some of you did so through weakness, others through cowardice, others through fear. And some of you…. those who are now dead…. they did so because they shared in the sacrilege and the wrongs of Sinoval."

How long until Sinoval arrived? Not long, according to the probes. He had made the journey at a considerable pace. It was after all a very long way from Epsilon Eridani to the Tarolin system. The very outlying nature of the colony was what had saved it from the Earthers in the first place.

"I am a kind and benevolent leader. I have punished only those who acted deliberately in their wrongdoing. Those of you who were weak, or afraid, or cowardly…. You, I have let live, to reflect on your flaws. Remember me, and remember what brought me here. I am Sonovar, of the Night Walkers clan, and I will redeem my people in Valen's eyes…. before we can be ready to embrace him once more."

The signal stopped, and Sonovar stepped from the column of light. He felt the faintest tinge of a headache developing. The stress of the last few days, obviously.

Kats was on the surface now. What she was doing, he had no idea. As long as she lived to present her message to Sinoval, it hardly mattered. In many ways, he reflected, she herself was the message.

"You are finished here, my lord?"

Sonovar started and turned, an angry curse on his lips. Forell. He breathed out harshly. "Yes, I am finished. Put me through to the Ramde, and then we will be ready to leave. All the Tak'cha have been recalled from the planet?"

"Yes, lord. Are you well? You look…."

"You are not my nursemaid, Forell! Do not forget your place here!"

"Yes, lord. As you say, lord. It…. it has been a productive trip here, has it not, lord?"

"Yes," Sonovar said, reflecting. "A very productive trip."

* * *

Lord-General Marrago stood amidst the ruins of a dream, and pondered the future. Debts of loyalty had bound him his entire life: to friends, to those who served under him, to the young woman he had taken as his daughter. He did not even know if Lyndisty was still alive. Given the news coming in from the capital, it seemed doubtful.

He was listening silently as Durano relayed his information. The man had agents everywhere, a great many of them in the capital.

Durano, Virini and Timov had come to Gallia almost immediately after the city had been secured. Marrago would have much preferred it had they stayed in Selini. For all their respective eminence they were all civilians, and they could not understand the ways of warfare. He did, all too well.

Durano finished, and Marrago looked around at his companions. He had been able to work out much of what Durano had just told him. Marrago himself had only one real agent in the capital, but given Carn's current placing in affairs there, that was enough. In any case, all that was truly needed was a good mind, and Marrago had that. Unfortunately, so did Durano. And Timov and Virini for that matter….