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

"So," said Londo, "what positions are we missing, then?"

"All the details are in my report," Durano said. "Myself, as Minister of Intelligence. Your nephew for Security, and the…. ahem, the Minister here for the Court. Vitari for the Interior. Lord-General Marrago, of course, is the Minister of War as well as Commander-in-Chief of the Army. We do not yet have a Minister for Transportation, Culture, Agriculture, Resource Procurement or a Head of the Diplomatic Corps." He paused and looked down, a most uncharacteristic gesture. "And there is the post of…. First Minister."

"There will be no post of First Minister yet," Londo said firmly. "If I am to be Emperor, then I will operate in the way I see fit. All of you here, as well as Marrago, I trust as I trust no other. A First Minister is not needed at present.

"As for the others…. Vir Cotto will be the Head of the Diplomatic Corps. He has…. certain skills and contacts that will be very useful. And as for Resource Procurement…. I do think my dear wife Timov will be perfect for the role."

"Oh dear," whispered the Minister. Londo smiled.

Durano, to his credit, recognised that protest would not be the wisest of options. "A fine choice, Majesty. If a little…. unconventional, not to say controversial."

"There you have it, Durano. You have just hit upon two of the best reasons for appointing her. The other vacant positions can be filled later. They can be used as convenient…. incentives to those whose support we need.

"And now…. matters for the future. The Centarum must be reformed as soon as possible, and the Emergency Measures passed at the beginning of the year phased out. We need order and effective communications across the planet as well as to the rest of the Republic. Engineers and technicians are looking at the damage done to the main signal relay satellites. What caused the damage…. is a concern for another time.

"We also need these…. Shadow Criers dealt with, and soon. And there is the matter of posting Ambassadors to the major powers. We need to let the galaxy know we are returning to strength again, and we need to end this war with the Narns. Quickly. We will soon, I fear, have even greater problems on our hands.

"Minister Cotto will oversee the establishment of embassies to the Resistance Government of Humanity, the United Alliance at Kazomi Seven and the remains of the Minbari Federation. At a later date, appointments to the rest of the former League worlds will be possible, but they can wait. Negotiations with the Narns must be our first objective.

"And the army…. well, that is a matter for the Lord-General, and for my nephew here."

"Ah, yes," spoke up Durano. "Majesty…. where is the Lord-General?"

"Attending to something," was the only reply. "Attending to something…. very important."

* * *

Victory!

Sonovar threw his arms wide and laughed, revelling in the glory of the moment. It was over, and the entire mission had been a success. Not a thing had gone wrong. He had been a warrior in too many campaigns not to recognise the rarity of that.

The Government of Tarolin 2 had been punished for their treason, a message of defiance had been sent to the traitor Sinoval, the Tak'cha had proved their combat worthiness and Kozorr…. his laugh faded. Yes, Kozorr. A success there also, but only a beginning.

He was alone on the bridge of his ship, the flagship of the new warrior caste revival. A true warrior caste, a return to the old days of glory and honour and a worthy war, days that had been taken away from them by the weakness of the priestlings and the treachery of those like Sinoval.

He was alone. None of his colleagues, those who had been a part of Kalain's Grey Council, would come here with him. They had all requested other duties, other responsibilities. They were cowards, all of them, unable to see the rightness of his cause, and that disappointed him. Sinoval, for all his wrongs, at least had followers who would obey him unto death.

Such as Kozorr.

Sonovar suddenly felt very lonely. Every leader needed someone to confide in, with whom to share the moments of weakness and indecision. Every great leader had doubts and fears, it was only natural. Any man who claimed to be truly fearless was either a liar or a madman. And yet Sonovar had no one. He was beginning to understand why Sinoval kept such a pathetic worker as Kats around him. He could explain to her all his doubts in the knowledge that she was too weak to act on them.

Sonovar had no one like that.

There was no sound of his coming, no rustle of his robe or rasping of his breathing. Sonovar was a trained warrior, his every sense honed to its utmost degree, and yet the being who had once been Forell managed yet again to sneak up on him.

"You look fatigued, my lord," he said. "Are you well?"

"I am…. fine," he muttered. He was beginning to develop a headache actually, but he was not going to admit that to this loathsome creature. Every leader needed someone to confide in, true, but that someone was definitely not Forell.

"You have not taken your medicine these last few days, lord. It is for your own health." Something from Forell stank, and Sonovar could see he was carrying that ridiculous antique goblet. Inside it was a thick, dark red liquid.

His 'medicine'.

"I needed to concentrate on the mission," he explained. "That stuff makes me…. sluggish. I don't like it."

"Medicine is not meant to be liked, my lord. You should take it. It does you good."

"I do not need to…." He stopped, and wondered why he was explaining himself in such an apologetic manner. He did not have to justify himself like this! Forell moved forward, taking this pause as an invitation to continue. He held the goblet with the foul medicine up before Sonovar, who gagged.

The warrior brought his arm up, knocking Forell back. The goblet tipped up and the medicine fell over Forell's already stained and worn robe. There was a hissing noise. "You are not my nursemaid, Forell! How many times must I explain that to you?"

"My apologies, my lord," he replied, sounding distinctly unapologetic. "I tripped and spilt your medicine. I will prepare a fresh batch, and bring it to you personally."

Sonovar readied an angry retort, but he stopped and nodded. His throat was feeling very dry, and his headache was worsening. Say what you liked about that concoction, he did feel better afterwards. Well, a bit better.

"Yes," he ordered. "Do that. I will be in my chambers shortly. I have something to check on first."

Without waiting for a reply he stormed from the chamber, and so missed the expression on Forell's face. Truly though, he would not have cared if he had seen it. His senses might have been heightened through years of training and meditation, but in many ways Sonovar was terribly, terribly blind.

He made his way through the corridors and hallways of the ship, and everyone he met turned aside, shrinking away from his furious gaze. He could not explain the reason for his anger, but he did know it would have to be vented in some way. There was one thing he could use to divert it elsewhere. A symbol of his greatest triumph to date, and his greatest challenge to come.