Thucydides Trap by Melinda M. Snodgrass

Author:Melinda M. Snodgrass [Snodgrass, Melinda M.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781952825552
Publisher: Prince of Cats Literary Productions

Medical staff rushed into the grand hall and began working on the Admiral. The soldiers were pulling Christina to her feet. The rage that had twisted her face was gone. Now she looked lost, young and devastated.

“I didn’t mean to. I didn’t mean to. Why did he do that? I didn’t mean to. He deserves to die,” she sobbed.

Anselmo shook his head trying to sort out the various he’s in her the hysterical babble. Tracy was loaded onto a stretcher and rushed away. The young lieutenant commander and the Isanjo captain accompanying him. Talion was issuing orders to his security forces to take the woman into custody, and the head of Rohan’s security detail was indicating quite firmly that Lieutenant Flintoff was their problem and would remain with them.

Rohan and his valet were looking very grim as they went to join Boho whose confusion was evident on his face. Anselmo decided to see what the powerful and well connected were going to discuss and he drifted into their orbit. Oddly enough the Consort was echoing the distraught girl.

“Why did he do that?” Boho said. “We hate each other. I was going to challenge him. Kill him. Why would Belmanor do that?”

“Because he knows that we need you,” Rohan said. His voice had dropped several octaves and seemed to come rumbling from deep in his gut. “Without you, all of you there may be no hope for any of us.”

At another time Anselmo would have rolled his eyes and shrugged thinking this hyperbole. Sure, a civil war was never a good thing, but there was something in Rohan’s voice, and the valet’s stance that felt like he wasn’t talking about Talion’s little tinpot kingdom, but something much more deadly and dangerous. Something that had fuck all to do with their mission. A prickling ran down Anselmo’s spine as if ice spiders were nesting in his flesh. He shivered and started to back away. He didn’t want to know.

But Rohan spotted him before he could make his escape. “Oh, no. No, no, no. Thanks to your general idiocy we don’t have Belmanor for this meeting, so you can fill in.” At his valet’s incredulous look, the Prime Minister added, “He probably needs to hear this anyway. Like Tracy said, he’s the closest thing we have to a minister of propaganda. We’re going to need him.”

“Hey!” Anselmo cried.

“That was a compliment,” the old man growled. “Now come along.”

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