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

He found himself at the door he wanted. At his orders four guards were posted there at all times, with another two at each end of the corridor. All were armed, and all were among his best warriors. Two of them were Tak'cha, and they attended to their duties with a diligence that not even the most loyal Minbari warrior could muster.

"How is he?" he asked.

"The same, lord," replied one of the guards. A Minbari warrior. Star Riders clan. A long heritage. A proud ancestry. A fine service record. A true warrior in every sense of the word.

"Open the door. I wish to see him."

"Your will, lord."

Sonovar drew in a deep breath and stepped through the doorway. The guards remained outside. They knew who was within, but not the circumstances of the prisoner's fate. They did not seek to question either. That was not their place.

He was there, seated in silent meditation. He looked up and then scowled, turning his gaze back to the floor. Sonovar was impressed. There was a one-way mirror. He could not be seen from within the room, and yet the prisoner had noticed his arrival anyway.

Yes,Sonovar thought as he looked at Kozorr. Y es. I chose right after all. He will be my greatest challenge…. and my greatest weapon.

* * *

It was a fine room. Luxurious, comfortable, warm. Tapestries from poor, dead Camulodo adorned the walls. Carpets woven on distant worlds were beneath his feet. Minbari pottery stared at him from every direction. There were the finest books ready for him to read; fiction, both romantic and epic, poetry, histories, and accounts of military campaigns. His food was prepared personally by the finest cooks remaining in the palace, and the brivare he drank was the most priceless of vintages available.

And yet, the former Lord-General Valo thought acidly, a golden cage is a cage nonetheless.

He knew what fate awaited him. He had known ever since he had been forced to surrender to that bastard Marrago. Death by execution. Execution in the manner of a commoner, as well. His head to be cut from his body and placed on a pike on Traitors' Row. The fate, not for a traitor to his Republic, but for one who had reached too far, and fallen just short.

He could, with a little more luck, have been sitting on the throne now, strengthening the Republic, beating back the Narns, claiming lost territories and pressing forward to the stars. Instead he was trapped in a gilded cell, waiting for death.

Such was the hand he had been dealt, but he had always believed that the Gods helped the strong, the brave, and the resourceful. He had tried, because it was more than anyone else would. He had shown the weaklings of the Court his strength and that…. and that was almost worth it all. Lead by example, and he would teach them by example even in his death.

The door opened, and Valo looked up from his seat. He had made an arrogant pledge to remain standing all the while he was here, but the injury in his side had plagued him too much for that, and he had been forced to sit. At least he sat on the floor, and not on the soft couch.

Two men stepped inside, both wearing the uniform of the Palace Guard. They made a formal salute and ushered in a new figure, one Valo recognised instantly. The guards left, and closed the door behind them. There was the sound of a bolt sliding shut.

"Marrago," he said. "I'm surprised. I thought you'd be wearing a new uniform, one tricked out with gold and jewels and all sorts of medals."

"I'm not a vain man, Valo," came the reply. "You know that. And I have not been promoted, merely returned to my former position. I am once again Lord-General of the Armies of the Centauri Republic. It is nice, is it not, to have an Emperor who appreciates the talents of those who serve him?"

"Mollari is a fool," Valo snapped back. "And you know it. He'll be dead before the century's out, and you'll all be dead with him."

"I doubt that very much. But in any case, Valo, you have no right to comment on the political actions of this new Government. I am here to attend to the matter of your death."

"Ah." He smiled. "I've been waiting for this. How is it to be, hmm? My head on a pike? A silken rope around my neck, perhaps? Or nothing so…. quick?"

"The manner of your death…. depends on you. Perhaps you can serve the Republic better through your death than you have done with your recent actions."

"I don't understand."

"There is a great deal of confusion about what has happened here these last few days. Very few people are able to state clearly and exactly who did what, and why. Those who could are either dead, like Prince Cartagia and First Minister Malachi, or loyal to Emperor Mollari. What happened…. is for us to decide."

"And what did happen?"

"The Court was attacked…. by the group of terrorists known as the Shadow Criers. They were funded by aliens…. possibly the Narns, or maybe not. That has not been decided yet. They managed somehow to influence certain leaders in the military, to make their attack easier. First Minister Malachi was grievously wounded in the attack, and succumbed to his injuries. Prince Cartagia bravely gave his life defending the First Minister. Emperor Mollari and myself managed to gather together the military, draw on our forces, and drive the Shadow Criers away.

"Naturally, the Emperor will want to hunt down and destroy these…. terrorists."

Valo laughed. "Have you become a courtier, Marrago? I always knew they could take dung and make it smell of perfume, but I never thought you'd sink so low."

"Oh…. most of it wasn't my idea, I'll admit. Still…. it is a sound plan. We need unity now, and revealing to the galaxy that our nobility has been busily killing one another…. would give away too much, and risk exposing our weakness."

"So…. where do I fit in?"

"As I said…. that depends on you. After this conversation is over, I will leave this room. I will return after your next meal, and when I do, I will find either…. a dead hero, who bravely and courageously fought the Shadow Criers, concealing the full extent of his wounds until it was too late, or…. a living traitor, who cowardly betrayed his Court to these evildoers and fought against his own Government.

"The choice is yours."

"And how is this…. how are you going to manage this?"

"Your next meal will be a very tasty recipe involving spoo in…. some form or another. I know next to nothing about cooking. What I do know is that the spoo will contain a considerable quantity of Paromide powder. Odourless, tasteless, colourless…."

"And one of our Republic's deadliest poisons," Valo finished. "So…. I am to be given an easy way out, am I?" He turned away, looking at the tapestry on the wall behind him. It depicted the fourth Emperor's glorious victory over the rebels at Immolan.