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Authors: J.L. Doty

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BOOK: The Thirteenth Man
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Add slapped him hard at that point, or maybe it was Ell. “All right. All right already. I do so swear. I do.”

“W
ake up, asshole.”

Something hit Charlie in the ribs hard. He groaned as they lifted him to his feet, cuffed his hands behind his back, and locked manacles on his ankles. The cuffs and the manacles were rusty metal, connected by a rusty chain. That brought back memories, and he realized they'd allowed the drugs to wear off. His guards roughed him up a little, bloodied his nose, split his lip and bruised a few ribs, but nothing serious. Then, surrounding him, they led him out of his cell, and he realized he was back on Turnlee, in the dungeons of the Almsburg Palace.

 

CHAPTER 14

THE THIRTEENTH MAN

L
ucius held court in a grand style. It was little different from the last time Charlie had been dragged before the throne in the great hall. Lucius sat upon his throne, with Goutain at his right hand calling the shots. But now all signs of the fighting were a thing of the past, all nine dukes sat in the ducal gallery, and Delilah, Martino, and Adan sat or stood in their proper places upon the dais.

The guards threw Charlie to his knees at the base of the steps below the throne, and slowly he raised his eyes to meet Delilah's. He silently mouthed the word “bitch,” and she cringed.

“So he still has some spirit,” Goutain said. He looked around the assembly. “We've done this before, but not everyone was properly present then, so I think it well worth doing again. Adsin, read the charges.” Apparently he'd dropped any pretense that Lucius still ruled.

Adsin stepped forward, opened a document, and read from it. It was the same list of charges: high treason, stationing armed troops on the grounds of the Almsburg Palace, violating Turnlee nearspace with armed vessels.

“I object,” Duke Rierma cried out, standing. “This proceeding is illegal.”

Charlie was as surprised as everyone else. Not surprised that Rierma would want to object, but Rierma was a practical man, and well knew that he could accomplish nothing by doing so. Charlie was a commoner, not granted the same protections as men such as Rierma.

It took several seconds to silence the crowd, then Lucius stood and spoke. “There's nothing illegal about this, old man. Since the crime was committed by the accused on my properties, I have unilateral authority to determine guilt or innocence, as well as the punishment that'll be meted out.” Lucius grinned at Rierma smugly and sat down.

Winston stepped out of the shadows behind Rierma, leaned forward, and whispered into the old man's ear. Charlie began to wonder if the wily old man didn't have a trick or two up his sleeve. “First,” Rierma said loudly. “You do not have unilateral authority over a duly consecrated Duke of the Realm.” That phrase sounded strangely familiar to Charlie. Rierma continued. “Capital guilt can only be decided by unanimous vote of the ducal council. Second, no crime was committed, since, by law, a duly consecrated Duke of the Realm has the right to bring whatever personal protection he deems necessary, including armed troops.”

Lucius rolled his eyes. “Come now, Rierma. I know you're quite old, but I hadn't realized your faculties had begun to diminish so.” The crowd responded with a background of suppressed laughter. “This common fool here before us is no Duke of the Realm.”

Rierma lifted a document, held it between thumb and forefinger, dangled it before them all, and got their attention. “His Grace, Charles, is a duly consecrated Duke of the Realm, having taken oath before god and the proper witnesses.”

Theode cried out, “He hasn't the right to inherit the de Maris ducal seat. He was never legitimized.”

Rierma turned slowly toward Theode. “I said nothing of the de Maris ducal seat. Cesare's will legitimized Charles, though without any rights to the de Maris seat or holdings. But he long ago purchased from His Majesty rights to another ducal seat, and the right to determine its inheritance.”

“Page,” Goutain shouted, pointing at the document dangling from Rierma's fingers. “Bring that here.”

A young page scurried across the hall, took the document from Rierma, and scurried back to Goutain, who snatched it angrily from the boy's hands. Goutain read it frantically, and a smile slowly appeared on his face. Then he threw back his head and roared with laughter.

Charlie looked up to Rierma. The old man grinned and said, “It could be worse, Charlie. You could be de Lunis.”

Goutain looked at Lucius. “Your Majesty,” he said, and with a grand flourish he bowed to Charlie. “I give you His Grace, Charles, Duke de Lunis.” Again he roared with laughter, and when he calmed down he cawed, “The thirteenth Duke de Lunis will fare no better now, for beneath the headsman's ax he'll lie, a frown upon his brow.”

Some of the crowd echoed Goutain's laughter, but without enthusiasm, and an uneasy silence descended as Charlie climbed slowly to his feet. Looking at Goutain and Lucius, he could think of only one thing to say. “But should the headsman miss his prey, the thirteenth man will rise. And rule the headsman's ax one day, no limit to his prize.”

Goutain frowned at that.

L
ucius objected vehemently, maintaining that Charlie wasn't a properly consecrated Duke of the Realm. Gaida protested with such venom that drops of spittle flew from her mouth as she ranted, and Theode threw an absolute tantrum. Charlie simply stood in the middle of the great hall stunned beyond belief. What had Cesare done to him?

Rierma testified that he had reviewed all of the documents several days ago, and had had more than sufficient time to verify their authenticity. Paul testified that Charlie had been duly consecrated. Lucius was forced to admit that, yes, more than four decades ago he had sold to Cesare all rights to the de Lunis ducal seat. Rierma had finally proposed that they remand His Grace, Charles, Duke de Lunis, temporarily into his custody while Lucius and the Nine reviewed the documentation and determined to their own satisfaction if the inheritance of the de Lunis ducal seat was legitimate. For once, the Nine stood as one, and over Lucius's objections, it was done.

They retired to Rierma's suites in the palace—­Rierma, Charlie, Winston, Paul, Add, Ell, and Rierma's personal guard. Charlie's first concern was Add and Ell. “You're property of House de Maris. Are you fugitives? Do we need to hide you?”

Winston said, “No, Your Grace. They're no longer property of House de Maris. Your father, in his will, stipulated that upon his death, if Arthur, for any reason, did not inherit the de Maris ducal seat, then Add'mar'die and Ell'mar'kit become the property of House de Lunis.”

“We are yours, little brother,” Add said.

Charlie asked Winston, “I own them?”

“Yes, Your Grace.”

“I don't like owning ­people,” Charlie said. “I don't like slavery. In front of all these witnesses here, I grant them their freedom immediately.” For the first time in his life he saw Add's eyes widen with surprise. “Winston, can you draw up the paperwork: unconditionally free, with all the rights of full citizenship.”

“As you wish, Your Grace.”

“What about Roacka?”

Add said, “He disappeared shortly after Cesare's death and hasn't been seen since.”

Rierma issued orders to his guard captain. “Put your ­people on full alert. Under the circumstances I expect several assassination attempts aimed at both myself and His Grace, Charles.” Then Rierma spun and pointed at Charlie's wrists. “And we have a Duke of the Realm manacled in Syndonese irons. Get those vile things off him immediately.” Rierma's guard brought in a nuclear torch and started working on Charlie's manacles.

“Why did the Nine stand together on this?” Charlie asked. “Nadama would just as soon have my head.”

Rierma poured drinks for them all. “Because, Charles my boy, they didn't stand together. They each voted in their own interest. If all of the documentation is proper and correct, and you are legitimately a Duke of the Realm, then however they allow Lucius and Goutain to treat you, they set a precedent that they themselves can be treated in the same fashion. If Lucius or Goutain take any illegal action against you, it'll unite the Nine as they've never been before. The result would be a bloody war that would cost all sides dearly, including Goutain. This unanimity of self-­preservation is the only thing that's holding the Realm together at this moment.”

“And is all of the documentation proper and correct?”

“It certainly appears so.” Rierma looked to Winston for confirmation.

Ever proper, Winston nodded a bow to Rierma, then turned to Charlie. “Your Grace, your father legitimately purchased the rights to the de Lunis ducal seat before you and Arthur were born. At the time, I don't think he knew exactly what he was going to do with such a valueless property; he was frequently opportunistic that way. Then after Theode was born, he asked me to prepare the proper legal framework for a number of contingencies. One of those was that in the event of his inability to occupy the de Maris ducal seat, and if Arthur, for any reason, could not then immediately occupy the seat himself, I was to initiate a sequence of events that would place you upon the de Lunis ducal seat. I've had most of your life to make sure that this inheritance will be ironclad. And I've made certain that if the Nine don't support it, they'll emasculate themselves. Give them a day or two, and they'll see that.”

“Well, now,” Rierma said, “they can no longer call us the Nine. I suppose they'll call us the Ten.”

Charlie looked at Winston, and for the first time saw an old man without hope. But then something flickered in Winston's eyes. “Your Grace,” he said, and dropped to one knee in front of Charlie. “At your father's death I'd have sworn my allegiance to Arthur. But Arthur is not consecrated so I cannot. And I'll not give my allegiance to that snake that now occupies the de Maris ducal seat. Will you accept my oath, Your Grace?”

Winston's question stunned Charlie into silence and he didn't know what to say. Rierma, standing behind them all, nodded silently to Charlie. Charlie spoke solemnly. “Of course.”

Winston bowed his head and placed his hand over his heart. “I, Winston, formerly sworn to His Grace, Cesare, of House de Maris, do solemnly swear before god and man that I give my allegiance to you, Charles, Duke de Lunis. I acknowledge you as lord of House de Lunis, and I swear to defend your rights as holder of all de Lunis properties and as master over its courts, and to abide by your judgments in all disputes.”

Charlie had seen the ancient formula spoken many times, had memorized that side of it so he could speak it before Cesare when he'd come of age. But he'd never thought to be on the receiving end, and while he had seen Cesare speak the proper response many times, he was going to have to fake it. He placed a hand on Winston's shoulder. “And I, Charles, the de Lunis, do solemnly swear before god and man to defend your rights and those of your household against all claims and incursions, and to render unto you just and honest decisions in any and all disputes, and to judge fairly as your sworn liege lord.” Rierma nodded his silent approval.

Charlie helped Winston to his feet. “Your Grace,” Winston protested. “This is not proper.”

Charlie laughed. “I doubt there is anyone in Almsburg who thinks there is a proper duke occupying the de Lunis ducal seat.”

Paul shook his head vehemently. “You're wrong in that, Your Grace. Besides us in this room, I think there are many here who feel the de Lunis seat is capably occupied. And to that end, I have this . . .” Paul handed Charlie a small package. “It's from your father, though I don't believe it's a gift. He entrusted it to me twenty years ago, with the rather cryptic instructions that I was to give it to ‘the de Lunis.' I tried to question him further since the seat was vacant, but he refused to say more than that I should keep it with me always, and wait until there was a de Lunis to accept it. He did say it was extremely valuable.”

Everyone looked on expectantly as Charlie opened the package. In it he found a small dagger, more decorative than functional, its handle studded with gems and precious stones. The blade wasn't even plast, merely steel, and its balance was poor. Charlie tossed it to Ell, who caught it deftly and flipped it in the air a few times. “I'd hate to have my life dependent upon this blade,” she said, confirming his suspicions. “Even the steel is of poor quality. Perhaps the jewels?” She handed it to Winston.

He looked at it carefully and shrugged. “I'm sorry, Your Grace. I'd guess the jewels are merely colored glass. Worthless.”

Paul took the blade from Winston. “If Cesare said it's valuable, then it's priceless in a way we don't understand.” He handed the blade to Charlie, then dropped to one knee. “I too would swear, Your Grace.”

After Paul, Add stepped forward. “I too would swear, little brother.”

Ell gave her a shove. “Now that he's a duke you can't call him ‘little brother' anymore.”

“Of course I can. He'll always be
little brother
. And I expect we'll continue his training. And I'll expect you not to pull any punches just because he's some duke, little sister.”

“Don't call me
little sister
. I'm the older one, by at least a minute.”

So the two breeds also swore their allegiance.

“Your Grace,” Winston said after they were done. “I personally think it's a rather auspicious beginning. However . . .” Winston paused, looking carefully at Charlie. He had seemed lost until sworn to Charlie. But now that he was a duke's man once more, properly sworn, with his place defined as it should be, he'd returned to being the familiar Winston that Charlie knew. He approached Charlie, reached out, and touched the collar of Charlie's tunic. “However, your attire is not appropriate for your new station.” Charlie looked down at his clothing, trampsie through and through: colorful, a bit flamboyant, but filthy, covered in the grime from a half-­dozen cells, several days of Charlie's sweat, and some of his blood too. Charlie wasn't sure what about it was more inappropriate, colorful and flamboyant, or torn and bloodstained. Winston looked at Rierma. “Your Grace, would it be possible to call in a tailor, one who could move rather swiftly?”

O
ver the next two days Rierma's guard thwarted four assassination attempts, all aimed at Charlie. “That's insulting,” Rierma shouted. “They don't consider me important enough to assassinate.”

BOOK: The Thirteenth Man
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