Free The Szuiltan Alliance (The Szuiltan Trilogy) by Neil Davies Page A

should have consulted me first."
    He paused, just giving Loadra enough time to fully understand what had been said but not enough to gather his obvious anger.
    "What can we do to minimise the effect of this? You are an intelligent man, Loadra, and my advisor on all matters spiritual. What would you suggest?"
    At the reminder of his duties, Loadra controlled his rage. There would be enough time for that later. The Controller had sought his advice and he was honour-bound to offer a considered and, above all, professional opinion.
    "If you feel that your long term plan is threatened," even now he avoided the word treaty, "then you should contact the Aksian Leader to explain the circumstances before he retaliates on the biased reports from his own people."
    "Sound advice Loadra, thank you."
    And I must also put you in your place , he thought, publicly re-affirm my authority without obvious insult.
    "Bring this Lieutenant Lichfield to me. I wish to speak to him."
     
    Martin Lichfield sat unmoving and solemn in the dark confines of the cruiser's brig. It had been several hours since he had returned from the mission and the Trailbreaker had made her report. His arrest had been swift and public as they stripped him of his weapons and marched him to his cell.
    The penalty for mutiny was death.
    It angered him to think that he should die out here, now, on the verge of an end to all hostilities, without ever seeing Sharon again. Angered him and saddened him. But he sat still and emotionless, a soldier of calm discipline, refusing to give his captors the satisfaction of seeing him break down. Perhaps they expected him to plead for mercy? To beg forgiveness? They would be disappointed.
    Even now, as he faced execution, he did not regret his actions. He was sick of the killing, the mindless genocide that the war had become.
    After the girl died under the brutal onslaught of the Trailbreaker's weapon he had stood silently to one side, watching as the equipment was destroyed, the bodies plundered for trophies. Where was the nobility in this? How could any religion sanction such actions? And yet, whatever the original cause of the war, it was religion that continually fuelled the hatred and distrust, a religion whose priests would preach love to all and then bless the soldiers as they went out to commit murder. Both Earth and Aks worshipped the same god, Larn, the official religion of the galaxy, and yet they destroyed each other over religious differences. Innocent people had been gunned down in the streets of Earth cities because their ancestry led to Aks and they had been raised in the Aksian Larnian faith. Where was the sense? Where was this mythical love to all?
    All his life Martin had followed the Larnian faith as it had been taught to him, chanting the prayers, believing the stories, reading the scriptures, but now he felt as though a veil of half-truths and outright lies had been torn away from his mind. One awful, bloody moment of revelation. He had doubts, questions, uncertainties. He felt liberated.
    It was a feeling he would take with him to his execution. He almost laughed at the absurdity of it all.
    The door to the brig slid open with a sharp susurration of air that twisted a cold knot of fear in his stomach. He stood to face the man sweeping into his cell. The wild mane of hair was unmistakable, as was the gleam of fanaticism in the eyes.
    Loadra, the High Priest of Larn
    "You will come with me."
    The voice was flat, but Martin could feel the hatred behind it. To this man he had committed the worst sin of all. He had refused to kill the enemy.
    "I’m entitled to a trial." Martin's voice shook as he spoke, but he was determined that he would not simply accept whatever they imposed upon him. He had rights, even in the military, even given the seriousness of his crime.
    A thin smile split the High Priest's face, a humourless, bitter smile.
    "This is not your execution, sinner though you are. The Controller himself wishes to