Against All Flags by John Ruch

Author:John Ruch [Ruch, John]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: UNKNOWN
Published: 2018-12-27T22:00:00+00:00

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Counsel Marcus Regulus lowered the silver telescope and tapped its eyepiece against his frown-bristled goatee. Outside the leaded-glass windows, the glitterfall swirled in the hypnotic spirals and brilliant spangles one might see while fighting in a trench of a barbarian battlefield with an enemy’s thumbs pressed into their eyes.

The chill, dusty room atop the Citadel’s tower was the last place he wanted to be in a city he was more than ready to leave, despite being its chief administrator on behalf of the Tetragate Palatinate. Or what was left of the Tetragate. The paladins now tampered with the very gods, and Sir Ulther had paid the ultimate price in a hideous and ignominious death from Cuteness that chroniclers were already busy sanitizing. The others squabbled amongst themselves now, but agreed that they were nonetheless achieving a great revolution, a coming of Order.

What Counsel Regulus saw from the tower did not look like Order to him.

The city sprawling before him, from the Nalustrine Hill to the Godsblood harbor, was caked in gold like a killing frost. It was beautiful, like a venomous snake’s skin, like the grain of a burl-wood sword grip in a murderer’s hand, like the sunset colors of a forest fire on the horizon at dusk. It was already the subject of operas, plays, tavern songs, tavern drinks, fashions, children’s toys. Now many of those who enjoyed it were suffocating beneath the drifts, bleeding in surgeries after being caught in whirlwinds. The glitter fell lightly, yet in a rain it did not tamp down, only rang and sang in grating cacophony; it came in with the whipping chaos of a blizzard, but one whose drifts and piles seemed able to resist the wind, to pause and think like a Check player…. Meanwhile, the city had been bolted shut, to keep citizens where they were, whether inside the walls or out, stuck with their varying fates.

Regulus shook his head. To him, Order had long meant protecting these people and their way of life, by means that were not always commendable, but effective. Now the paladins had a superior Order, and Regulus’s reward was a way out of its path. Even now, obscure magica was conjured back at the Curia to near instantly transport him safely to Argentum, where his family awaited him in comfort. Sir Heddon called it “temporary relocation of key personnel.” Regulus parted his lips with a smack of distaste and gave a habitual unnecessary tug to his silver-filigreed waistcoat, which was fitting looser these days as he lost his appetite.

As the ancient door creaked open, he realized he was hunching over the windowsill. He relaxed his shoulders and stood erect, but did not turn in greeting.

“Marcus,” said a voice still wavering from the climb up the stairs. “So now you have fallen to harbor command duty? The paladins running thin on willing employees?”

“Wilton. You’re only second in command yourself. Don’t overestimate the Thousand Leagues’ ability to keep you and your tongue out of Bastion.”

Regulus finally turned. Wilton Crain was spindly and crooked-smiled, like a smug spider.

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