A Call to Insurrection by David Weber

Author:David Weber [Weber, David]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Science Fiction, Space Opera, Military, Action & Adventure
ISBN: 9781982125899
Amazon: 1982125896
Publisher: Baen
Published: 2022-02-02T06:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Baronesse Marija Shenoa had known Emperor Andrew for most of his life. She’d started out as his nursemaid, moved from there into the role of guardian and companion, and somehow ended up as one of his most trusted advisors. Along the way she’d seen him happy, sad, frightened, grouchy, and every other mental and emotional state a child, teenager, and young adult could go through.

But sitting a meter to Andrew’s left, close to him but not officially seated at the conference table in SMS Friedrich der Grosse’s flag briefing room, it occurred to her that until today she’d never seen his eyes blazing with such an icy, deadly anger.

Of course, it wasn’t like he was the only one.

“Majestät, this cannot be allowed to stand!” Kanzlerin Wilhelmine Heilbronn, Markgräfin von Schwarzer Flügel, snarled. Her green eyes swept the table, her army uniform in stark contrast with the naval and civilian garb worn by everyone else.

In contrast, but hardly out of place. Schwarzer Flügel had been one of Gustav Anderman’s most reliable army officers since long before he settled down to empire and crown. Along the way she’d been named not only senior ground commander, but also commander of his elite Black Wing assault infantry. Now, well into her seventies, she’d taken on the additional role of kanzlerin, head of the Empire’s government.

Many faced with that mix of age and responsibility would have found themselves softening. Not Schwarzer Flügel. Indeed, as far as Marija could tell, the effect had been to simply wear away the surface layers, leaving nothing but the underlying granite.

“It won’t be, Markgräfin von Schwarzer Flügel,” Andrew replied from the head of table. His tone was milder than his kanzlerin’s and the fire in his eyes not quite so visible. Some at the table, Marija reflected, might even miss that fire completely.

And that would be a mistake.

There were people in the Empire—many people, in fact—who believed Andrew Anderman to be a pale imitation of his father. On one level such a comparison was not only justified but inevitable. Men of Gustav Anderman’s stature were rare, and the shadows they cast over history were long and broad. Expecting anyone to measure up to such a standard was unreasonable, particularly when the person in question was only twenty-three T-years old.

Andrew had graduated from the Interstellare Kriegsakademie barely a year and a half ago and was still, technically at least, a mere leutnant in the Andermani Army. There’d been far too little time for him to build a reputation of his own, far less a reputation that could possibly rival Gustav Anderman’s.

The men and women seated around the conference table knew him better than most, of course. They knew he was a quiet man, and also knew that his relative absence from the public eye hadn’t been merely personality or misanthropy, but also part of Gustav’s strategy of keeping potential assassins looking in a different direction.

Still, even Andrew’s closest advisors and governmental leaders didn’t know him as well as Marija did. And none of the traitors and rebels on Tomlinson knew him at all.

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