Deathstalker Honor (15 page)

His private life was another matter entirely.

“Looking good, Toby,” said Hazel cheerfully, poking a playful finger into his more than ample stomach. “Lost a few pounds, have we? ”

“ I wish,” said Toby. “Ever since I allowed myself to be promoted to management, I spend most of my time sitting behind a desk instead of getting out in the field where I belong.”

“Leave it out,” said Flynn calmly. “You used to spend all your time in the field whingeing and grousing about all the comforts you were missing.”

Toby glared at him. “Straight speaking like that is why you’re still a cameraman, while I am now management. And don’t contradict me again in public or I’ll have someone in accounting take a really close look at your expense claims for last year.”

“ Bully,” said Flynn.

“You’re looking very smart, Toby,” Owen said quickly before they could fall into their usual bickering. “Right on the cutting edge of fashion.”

“Don’t you start,” said Toby. “ I know what I look like. Why do you think I always wore fatigues in the past? Every time I wear something good, I look like I stole it.”

“So what’s management doing here?” said Hazel. “Parliament planning something special, is it? Something perhaps we ought to know about? ”

“Right,” said Owen. “What do you know that we don’t? ”

“Volumes,” said Toby airily. “But for once I’m as much in the dark as you. I’m really only here because I felt a desperate need to get out in the real world for a while. I’ve been feeling really bored just lately, to tell you the truth. It’s all so different these days. My work with Flynn during the rebellion has already been hailed as classic material, and at any given time it’s a safe bet that somewhere some station is still running it. The public can’t get enough of it. The royalties are coming in faster than even I can spend them. So much money that even the company accountants can’t hide it all. Flynn and I need never work again if we don’t want to. But . . .”

“ Yeah? ” said Hazel.

“But we’re too young to retire,” said Flynn. “I wouldn’t know what to do with myself.”

“Right,” said Toby. “And I can’t help being haunted by the horrible suspicion that perhaps I’ve already done my life’s best work. That everything I do from now on is bound to be second best. That’s a hell of a thing to feel at my age. I need a real story, something I can get my teeth into. Something that
matters
.”

“We are rebuilding a whole Empire pretty much from the ground up,” said Owen. “Our whole political and social structure is changing day by day. I can’t believe you can’t find a story worth covering.”

“Oh, there’s no shortage of
news
. History in the making and all that. But it’s all so bloody worthy and open and honest and
dull
. Where’s the fun in that? Where’s the drama? Even the villains are second-rate nowadays.”

“ No,” said Owen. “ I wouldn’t say that. Valentine Wolfe is still out there somewhere.”

“Ah, yes,” said Toby. “I’d heard you’d had another run-in with him. I’m looking forward to hearing your report on that. At least you two are still around, making waves. Everyone else has pretty much disappeared. Jack Random is too busy playing politics to get into any real trouble, and Ruby Journey rarely leaves her house these days. Though word has it they may be making an appearance here today. Maybe they’ve heard something. God, I’ve got some great footage of the four of you in action during the rebellion, stuff that never saw the light of day. Maybe when we’re all safely dead . . .”

“ Yeah,” said Hazel. “Maybe. But until then I think some secrets should stay hidden. People don’t need to know everything that went on.”

There was a certain amount of shared nodding. Nobody mentioned the fake Young Jack Random, who’d turned out to be a cyborg working for the rogue AIs of Shub, but they all knew they were thinking of the moment when Flynn’s camera had caught the machine’s unmasking. And there were other, darker, secrets too. The rebellion hadn’t been nearly as straightforward as most people thought.

“So,” said Toby briskly, breaking the awkward moment, “have either of you thought anymore about my offer to make official documentaries of your lives? You don’t have to worry about the writing; we have people for that. Just talk into a recorder, and we’ll arrange the material and dig up footage to go with it. We can fake some linking material to cover the areas you don’t want to talk about. All you’ll have to do is narrate over the final footage. Easy money. Get it while it’s going; who knows how much longer people are going to stay interested in you? ”

“The sooner everyone loses interest in us, the better,” said Hazel. “ No biographies, Toby. We have little enough privacy as it is. Besides, most of my life story isn’t suitable for a mass audience anyway.”

“I can quite believe that,” said Owen. “Let us change the subject rapidly. How’s your life, Toby? Doing anything interesting? ”

“Him?” Flynn sniffed loudly. “He doesn’t have a life outside of his work. First in, last out, and takes work home with him. Typical management. I work the union-approved hours only, and once I clock out, I don’t even think about work again till I clock on in the morning. You should have stayed a working grunt like me, boss. Far less pressure.”

“ You never did have any ambition,” said Toby.

“Damn right, and proud of it. Ambition just gets you into trouble, and takes over your life. Which is why you have bags under your eyes and incipient ulcers, and I have a wonderful new lover in my life.” Flynn beamed at Owen and Hazel. “ You really must come around and meet him sometime. His name’s Clarence, Clarence DuBois. Works as a researcher for the MP John Avon, one of the few marginally honest Members in Parliament. My Clarence does all the real work, of course, so Avon can look good on the floor of the House, but that’s the way of the world for you. He’s very handsome and a marvelous cook. The things he can do with a fresh joint and a few vegetables. Trouble is, he has size-twelve feet, and you wouldn’t believe the problems we’ve been having trying to find stiletto heels that will fit him.”

“ Love seems to agree with you,” said Hazel. “ It’s made you positively chatty.”

“Don’t I know it,” said Toby. “I’ve been hearing about bloody Clarence for weeks.” He grinned maliciously at Owen and Hazel. “And how are you two lovebirds getting on, hmm? ”

“ If you find out, let me know,” said Owen.

“We’re taking things day by day,” said Hazel firmly. “How about you, Toby? Anyone special on the horizon? ”

“I have been considering a Clan marriage just lately,” Toby admitted reluctantly. “On the grounds that I’m not getting any younger, and my Family’s been putting the pressure on about where the next generation of the Family’s going to come from. With Uncle Gregor forced into hiding, Grace an avowed old maid, and Evangeline disowning the Family, the line pretty much ends with me. But who’d marry a Shreck? Thanks to dear Uncle Gregor and his appalling ways, the Family name has become mud in all the circles that matter.”

“Now, now, none of that, boss,” Flynn said firmly. “You’re Toby the troubador, rich and famous journalist of note, not just a Shreck. Work is all very well, but in the end there’s no substitute for getting out and meeting a nice girl. Or boy. Or whatever.”

Owen was so busy watching Toby glow bright red with embarrassment that he didn’t notice the approaching young aristo till the man was practically on top of him. Hazel noticed. It took a lot to distract Hazel. She tapped Owen surreptitiously on the arm with one hand, while the other fell to the gun on her hip. Owen turned unhurriedly and stopped the approaching aristo in his tracks with a steady gaze and a raised eyebrow. The young man bowed formally, keeping his hand well away from the sword at his side. He was dressed well but unimaginively, his long metallic hair already out of fashion. His blandly handsome face was studiously unreadable.

“Sir Deathstalker, my apologies for imposing on you, but there is someone nearby desires to make your acquaintance.”

“Then that makes him pretty much unique in this company,” Owen said easily. “Who might this someone be? ”

“It is the lady Constance Wolfe. She wishes to speak with you urgently, on a matter of some importance to you both. May I lead you to her?”

Hazel frowned. “Constance Wolfe? Don’t think I know her. What relation is she to Valentine?”

“Technically speaking, she’s his mother,” said Owen, letting the aristo wait. “She married Valentine’s father, Jacob, late in his life. With Valentine on the run, Daniel missing, and Stephanie discredited, Constance runs Clan Wolfe these days. I’ve never met the woman; can’t think what we might have in common. Still, I’d better go see what she wants. Never know when you might learn something useful.”

“Watch your back,” said Hazel. “She’s still a Wolfe.”

Owen grinned, nodded goodbye to Toby and Flynn, and allowed the increasingly impatient young aristo to lead him through the crowd to where Constance Wolfe stood waiting. As always she was surrounded by male admirers, from the highest in Society to the merely very rich. Constance had only just entered her twenties but was already a breathtaking beauty, on a world noted for its beautiful women. She was tall and blond, with the body and grace of a goddess, but for all the cheerful chatter around her, her perfect face remained cool and unresponsive, her occasional smile merely a matter of form. She looked up as Owen approached, and he thought for a moment he saw something very like relief in her deep blue eyes as she made her excuses to her admirers and drifted forward to meet him.

Owen bowed, and she curtsied, and then they stood for a moment looking at each other. Without turning her head, Constance dismissed her messenger with a brief wave of the hand. He bowed stiffly and moved reluctantly away to join the small army of admirers, who immediately began a quiet but animated discussion, while glaring openly at Owen. He chose to ignore them, knowing that would irritate them the most. Constance sighed.

“That was Percy Furey. He adores me, and I take advantage of it disgracefully. But then so many men have declared their undying love for me since my Jacob died that I find it hard to take any of them seriously. When you’re as rich and well appointed as I am, it’s amazing how adorable one becomes. I have only ever loved one man, my dear Jacob, and his death has not changed that. But a woman alone cannot hope to survive long in this changing Empire without powerful friends and supporters, so I let them cluster around me, and reward them with the occasional smile or encouraging nod. As long as they still think they have a chance with me, they’ll make my enemies theirs, and thus I have a certain amount of security, if not safety. I trust I don’t shock you with my frankness, sir Deathstalker?”

“ Not at all,” said Owen, charmed in spite of himself. “Such honesty is refreshing in this day and age. Perhaps you could continue the openness and explain precisely what I can do for you. I confess I’m not entirely sure what you might have in common with a man who’s sworn to kill your son.”

“Valentine? Kill the degenerate, with my blessings. He brings shame to the House of Wolfe and always has. I have reason to believe he murdered his own father.”

Owen raised an eyebrow. “ Now, that I hadn’t heard. Though I can’t say it surprises me. I’ve always considered Valentine capable of anything.”

“I am the Wolfe these days,” said Constance. “Even though I’m only a member of the Family by marriage. There is no one else. But it’s hard to be the head of a largely discredited Clan. My people are still loyal, as much to me personally as to the Family, but how long they will hold out in the face of ever increasing pressure and bribes I don’t know. I need your help, sir Deathstalker.”

“In what way?” said Owen. “You must know I’m not exactly popular among the powers that be. What influence I have is strictly limited. And if all you want is a bodyguard, allow me to point out that there are any number of excellent fighters looking for work now the rebellion’s over.”

“No, that isn’t what I want from you.” Constance frowned and shook her head slowly. “ This isn’t easy for me, sir Deathstalker, so please . . . make allowances for me, and permit me to approach this in my own way.”

“Of course. But please, call me Owen. I’ve never been much of a one for the formalities.”

Constance smiled briefly. “So I’ve heard. Very well. It will make things simpler. And you must call me Constance.” She turned away for a moment, composing her thoughts, and then turned back, her face quietly determined. “My life . . . has not gone the way I thought it would. You can understand that feeling, I’m sure. When I married Jacob Wolfe, I thought my life’s path was set out before me. I’d have children by Jacob, raise them for him, and walk by his side all my days. And then he was dead, murdered, and my new Family was rocked by one blow after another, and I . . . was left alone. I had to take charge of my own life, something I’d never done before, and had no training for. But it’s amazing what you can do when you have to. I learned by doing. And I grew up fast, because the alternatives were poverty or death, and quite possibly both. It made me stronger. It also made me hard, ruthless, and someone I’m not always sure I approve of. You see, Owen, we have a lot in common, after all. That’s why I want you to marry me.”

Owen stared at her. He was sure his mouth was hanging open, but he didn’t seem to be able to do anything about it. Whatever he’d been expecting when he strolled so casually over to join Constance, this sure as hell wasn’t it. The impulse to turn and run and lose himself in the crowd was almost overpowering, but he fought it down. Apart from shockingly bad manners, it wouldn’t do for word to get around that he ran from anything. He managed to force his mouth closed and swallowed hard.

“Why me?” he said finally, and just a little plaintively.

Constance shrugged. “It’s clear I must marry someone, and after much thought I’ve decided you are the best choice. We have much in common, we’re both of old, established bloodlines, and I need someone untouched by the evil and corruption that has swallowed up so much of our class. I need someone I can trust. My position as head of Clan Wolfe is . . . precarious, and with my Jacob gone, I see no reason to remain in a Family I no longer have any stake in. It wouldn’t be a love match, I know, but we both have a duty to marry well and continue our lines. We would make a strong alliance, Owen. You have made your Family name honorable again. I would be proud to be a Deathstalker.”