Free The Revolution Trade (Merchant Princes Omnibus 3) by Stross Charles Page B

hostilities. He’d risen to dominate the Clan’s external security apparat, modernizing it and turning it into the glue that bound the new settlement
together. The hammer of the council, his combination of force and guile had cowed the hotheads and brought the wily to his table. But he was just one man – now paralyzed on one side and
barely conscious, lonely and adrift in what might be his deathbed.
    ‘We’re holding out,’ she said quietly, touching his immobile left hand, hoping against hope for a reaction. ‘Earl Fredryck’s observers report that the federal
presence at the doppelgänger site is continuing, but all our people made it across ahead of the siege. We have plenty of ammunition. The monarchists dropped the culvert from the river, and
attempted to poison the well, but the osmotic purifier is working. Earl Riordan reports that the pretender’s army is encamped athwart the valley just downriver of the bend, ’tween here
and Wergatsfurt. The scouts are already preparing a route for us through New Britain, once Riordan’s men have manufactured a sufficiency of knot-work badges.’
    The duke made an odd noise in the back of his throat, something between a cluck and a gurgle. Olga leaned close, trying to discern words. His eyes rolled, agitated: ‘Guh-uh . .
.’
    ‘Fear not, we have prepared for you.’ A fireman’s carry and a hike in the dark – then, if he survived the one-kilometer haul, a stealthy transit back to the American
side, land of neurological wards and intensive care facilities, where a private ambulance would be waiting to whisk him to a hospital bed. ‘The body of the force will return, taking the
Pervert’s army in the rear if he’s still encamped. And should he occupy the palace, we have a warm welcome prepared for him.’
    Olga was of the opinion that it was better to beg forgiveness than to ask permission; and in any event, the warm welcome in question was one with a short expiry date – shorter than ever,
now that she’d learned what that thrice-cursed bastard idiot Matthias had told the DEA, or whoever they were. And what Otto had been doing was the icing on a very unpalatable cake. To his
credit, he’d actually
volunteered
the information. ‘Baron Henryk never put his faith in intangibles,’ he’d explained. ‘He wanted to
see
these mythical
nuclear weapons. He wanted to
own
them. He argued about it with the duke, but then the duke changed his mind – one suspects Matthias forged his signature on the letter – and so
the baron set me to oversee Matthias on organizing the theft. It was meant to be a harmless shell game, and additional leverage in council. Nobody had looked at them for more than eight years! How
were we to know Matthias would sell his story to the outlanders?’
    ‘Guh. Uh. Pa. Pat. Uh.’ He was clearly trying to say something. Alerted, Olga leaned closer.
    ‘Please, I ask you, try to speak slowly. Is it a person?’
    ‘Uh!’
    ‘Patricia?’ It was the obvious name: his half sister, mother of Helge, the wayward wildcat orphan and loose cannon who called herself Miriam.
    ‘Yuh.’
    ‘Oh! Good. Do you want to see her?’
That could be difficult
. Like most of the Clan’s elders who were familiar with American culture, she’d vanished into a deep
cover identity when the shit hit the fan, and trying to bring her over could draw attention to her.
    ‘Nuh.’
    ‘All right.’ Olga racked her mind for options. ‘Do you have a message for her? Or about her? Hang on, if it’s a message for her, blink once? About her, twice?’
    One blink.
    Olga sat up, heart hammering.
He’s still inside there
. A hot flush of relief washed over her: The idea that Angbard, Duke Lofstrom, had lost his mind had been too terrible to voice,
or even think. Paralyzed, deathly sick, but still the will to control went on . . . ‘Can you spell it out? One for no, two for yes?’
    Blink-blink.
    ‘Milady, he looks very weak to me – ’ The first-aider