The Sword and the Plough (28 page)

Lars’s face cracked wide in a grin. “That’s
telling them!” he murmured into Jeremiah’s ear.

Jeremiah nodded and grinned. “I’d love to
know what they’re thinking,” he said. “They must be wondering what
hit
them
.”

The communicator came on again and a new
voice spoke. But the tone was hardly warmer than the first.

“Voice-print confirmed. This is Captain
Willoughby here, Lady Caroline. Please explain your business and
your presence aboard the unauthorized vessel.”

“
Unauthorised, be damned!” Caroline’s voice
roared unladylike into the mouthpiece. “The
Stellar
Gypsy
is travelling
under
my
authority and for the queen’s eyes and ears
only.”

The young woman scowled. “By the planets,”
she exclaimed hotly. “It strikes me that the Royal Space Force goes
about its business more like a bunch of pirates than officers of
the queen.” At this, Lars and Jeremiah grinned gleefully at each
other. “From what I’ve seen,” Caroline continued relentlessly, “we
stand more chance of being shot to pieces by trigger happy officers
of the queen’s fleet than any foe.
And
, as I don’t intend for us to run that
risk again, I demand that you leave whatever you should have been
doing and act instead as our escort to Royal Fleet
Headquarters.”

The warship did not answer straight away, and
Lars could almost feel the disquiet on the warship’s bridge as her
captain puzzled over what response to make.

On the one hand, he had the voice-print of
Lady Caroline Tudor, first cousin to the queen, and on the other,
no doubt, a report from his computer’s shipping record stating that
the ship,
Stellar Gypsy
, was not registered at any port –
did not
exist
.

At length, the communicator hummed back into
life.

“Captain Willoughby here again, ma’am. I
shall have to contact Royal Fleet Headquarters for
authorisation.”

“Then do it!” The young woman snapped back.
“And be quick about it. This has top priority.”

Jeremiah chuckled. “Needs help to make up his
mind.”

The wait this time was brief.

“
Ah! Captain Willoughby here again, ma’am.
The admiral’s flagship acknowledges. The
Defiant
will lead you in. Please follow
me.”

Joel 3:10 (New King James Version of the
Bible)

Two soldiers in the queen’s red escorted Lars
into a small alcove of comfortable chairs at the far end of a large
chamber. The chamber had a high ceiling of dark timber trusses,
like the inverted frames of some ancient sea-going galley. The
timbered walls were lined with rank upon rank of shields bearing
the crests of the aristocratic houses of the realm; a blur of rich
colours to Lars’s sweeping glance.

At the other end of the chamber, under a
canopy of rich velvet the colour of grapes, was
The Most
Royal Throne of All the Planets
– a tall wooden chair of obvious antiquity with elaborately
carved arms and back. High on the wall behind the chair was the
royal coat of arms; a golden lion rampart on a field of six
gold-edged tetragons – red, green, white, black, yellow and blue –
the colours of the six planets of the Commonwealth.

* * *

“Lars!” The voice was rich and warm. “We have
heard much from our good cousin, the Lady Caroline, and are well
pleased.”

The figure from so many portraits come to
life had suddenly appeared before him, the swish of her gold silk
gown the only sound. A jewelled tiara crested a tumble of shiny
dark hair. Her figure was willowy, the curve of her alabaster neck,
long and slender. Her skin was that of a young woman, though Lars
realised the queen must be well in her forties. Caroline, now
arrayed in a gown of blue, stood in close attendance. Lars was
suddenly aware of the striking family resemblance between the two
women. But it was hardly surprising, given they were, after all,
first cousins born of a close-knit aristocracy. They were too,
without doubt, the most beautiful women he had ever
seen.

Lars
gazed into the queen’s smiling and bewitching hazel eyes
and felt their all-knowing scrutiny. Then, with a sudden rush of
blood to his face, he realised he had been staring open mouthed at
his monarch, the queen of 14 billion people, like an ignorant farm
boy. He dropped to one knee and kissed the bejewelled
fingers.

“Come, come, you need not kneel in our
presence. Sit. Sit.” A creamy white hand waved him to a chair.

The queen took a chair, the gold silk
rustling like a fall of zephyr tossed autumn leaves. She sat, her
back straight, her hands folded neatly in her lap. Lars sat down
next to Caroline, across from the queen.

“Now, Lars, tell us your story and how you
came to fall foul of our traitor, Ferdinand.”

“Well, Your Majesty, my sister and I were
ploughing a new field outside of Vegar when we saw smoke…” Lars
began.

The queen nodded. She had toured the new
fields of the black rock planet, Lumai, the year before. She
resolved she would visit Trion too, when all this was over. It was
good for the people to see their queen.

Her Majesty listened quietly as Lars spoke,
her brows knitted together in concentration. Now and again, she
asked him questions and encouraged him to speak in further detail
of what he had seen and heard.

Lars did not tell her of Old Seth and his
son, or of Jeremiah and the
Stellar Gypsy
. He explained only that a royalist
underground had engineered the escape from Megran and arranged
their subsequent passage to Earth. If the queen noticed this lack
of particulars in his story, she did not question it, or press him
to elaborate further.

Elizabeth V, Queen of All the Planets, sat
silent for some minutes after Lars had finished speaking. Her gaze
remained focused on the young Trionian, but her mind appeared to be
elsewhere. Lars glanced across at Caroline, uncertain what next to
say or do.

“
So-o-o!” the queen murmured at last. “The
pieces come together at last –
Operation
Valkyrie!”

“Operation Valkyrie, Your Majesty?” Lars
queried.

The Queen of All the Planets smiled. “We
had but the
words
, Lars. You have put the flesh on them. Operation Valkyrie
appears to be the name Ferdinand has given his treason.

“
Oh, he has been clever, very clever. We
knew something of his ambition, of course, and our spies had long
since warned us of his growing strength. However, at no time did we
imagine the full extent of his treachery. Our patrols still report
nothing amiss. Communications with the other planets appear normal.
Trade and business continue as usual…” The queen shook her head
sadly. “Yes, he has been clever, very clever.”

The troubled brow crumpled and the queen’s
hazel eyes filled, and silver tears rolled in shiny trails down her
cheeks.

“
My heart weeps for our brave soldiers who
fought and died so courageously in our name; and it weeps, too, for
those valiant men and women, silent now, who were our eyes and
ears. They would not easily have given up their secrets. Oh yes,
Ferdinand has been very clever…”

The queen’s voice trailed away, and in the
silence, Lars became aware of an antique clock with ornate black
hands in a corner of the alcove; heard its ominous ticking away of
the minutes. Nine-forty-five: for a second or two, he could not
decide whether that meant night or day. Then he remembered.
The
Defiant’s
shuttle had taxied up to the Royal Space Military
disembarkation port at dawn, a dawn of soft greys and cold
whispering rain. It was the cold that he remembered the
most.

After a moment, the queen brushed away the
tears from her eyes.

Then she was standing, her head held high,
her hands spread wide. Elizabeth the person had gone; Elizabeth V,
Queen of All the Planets was speaking, her voice vibrant and
thrilling.

“We uphold and endorse the declaration of our
governors and the other members of our Commonwealth Council
imprisoned on Megran.”

She paused and Lars saw her look darken.
“Now we add
our
word. Ferdinand, Governor of Megran, in whom we had placed
our trust, is now our
enemy
– and, as such, outside our law – outside our
love. Reluctant though we are, we have no choice. We must draw our
sword from its scabbard where it has rested so long.”

All at once, the queen raised her hands
skyward as if calling upon the power of the heavens, and Lars saw
the hazel eyes light up as if a bright flame burned therein.

“
Hear us now,” she declared, her voice
ringing, “and be our witness. We, Elizabeth V, Queen of All the
Planets, do most solemnly vow and declare to avenge all those who
sacrificed their lives for us, and to record their names in glory
for all to know. And for those who suffered pain or privation –
recompense – each according to his loss, for they put their trust
in us and have just claim.

“
From this day, all that Ferdinand owns,
all that he
is
,
is forfeit to the Crown, and his only future in our realm is death…
And our sentence is the hangman’s rope, the death of a common
criminal or pirate, for
he
is no more than they.”

The queen stood for a moment, her fierce
stare fixed firmly on some distant place while the air about seemed
alive, electric with the reverberations of her voice. Lars found
himself holding his breath.

When she spoke again, the queen’s eyes had
lost their fire. Elizabeth the warrior had gone.

“
We are grateful for your timely warning,
Lars – Caroline. Even as we speak, the message goes out to our
fleet to arm and prepare for war.

“From what you have said, it is probable that
Ferdinand does not yet know his treachery is revealed. Is that
correct?” She looked hopefully at Lars, then at her cousin.

Lars nodded. “I think so, Your Majesty,” he
said.

“Yes, Your Highness,” Caroline confirmed.
“Major Waterman believed Ferdinand would begin his attack
immediately if once he suspected his plans were compromised.”

The queen nodded. “Yes, that would seem
likely. Ferdinand would still retain most of his advantage if he
struck quickly enough.” She glanced round, holding out her hands
palms uppermost, as if testing for rain, and smiled. “And since we
are still intact, it would seem he is as yet unaware the two of you
have escaped his net.” She clapped her hands together. “Good!”

The queen now sat down again, and arranged
her gold gown about her. Her eyes were alive with hope and
anticipation.

“And now, Lars,” she said, her red lips wide
in the warmest of smiles, “we understand you have some strategy
that may help us thwart the traitor’s treachery.”

“It’s just an idea really, Your Majesty,”
Lars muttered, suddenly unsure of his plan in her presence. “It
might not be of any use…”

“Let us be the judge of that, Lars,” the
queen replied, her gaze impassioned. “Let us be the judge.”

Lars took a deep breath. “Well, Your Majesty,
the main problem as I understand it, is that Ferdinand has
collected up all the weapons on each of the conquered planets. As a
result, the local inhabitants have nothing to fight with to start a
rebellion. Therefore, as long as this situation remains Ferdinand
can hold the planets with a minimum of manpower and utilise their
resources against you.

“
Then there’s the hostage situation as
well. The locals can’t be expected to mount a rescue with their
bare hands…
But
…
with a weapon, everything changes…”

Lars broke off suddenly, concerned his
thoughts might appear muddled.

“I’m sorry, Your Majesty. I don’t know if
this is making much sense.”

The queen fluttered a hand toward him.
“Please carry on, Lars. You mentioned a weapon.”

“Yes, Your Majesty, there is a weapon on my
farm and every other black rock farm on Trion, Lumai and Theti too,
and maybe other planets as well, I guess.”

“Go on, we are listening,” the queen said,
her gaze intent. “A weapon you say? What weapon?”

Lars hesitated. “A plough, Your Majesty.”

“A plough?” A disappointed frown appeared on
the queen’s brow.

“Yes, Your Majesty. We break up the lava
surface with a plough that fires a laser beam at the black
rock.”

“Ah-h-h,” the queen breathed. “And?”

“Well, it has the power of a weapon, Your
Majesty…”

The queen’s hand fluttered impatiently again.
“Yes, Lars, go on.”

“
I realise it will take a host of military
planners. I mean, it will have to be a simultaneous counter attack
on the four conquered planets – maybe even on Megran too.” The
words now came in a rush. “And transforming the plough won’t be
easy. The share will have to be set up on a tripod mount to fire
from the cockpit, sights and trigger mechanisms fabricated –
armour… And it will all have to be done quickly and in secret. The
people will have to be organised. Oh, and I know my idea is all
very woolly… and
dangerous
… and…I…” Lars stopped. The words had run
out.

The queen stared at him, her face
expressionless. Lars felt his heart sink. He looked away. He
studied the royal coat of arms above the throne at the far end of
the chamber, the golden lion rampart, the six tetragons of
colour…