1636_ The Saxon Uprising - Eric Flint [190]
Interesting. Among other things, it indicated that Wilhelm Wettin was going to take the high road, so to speak, rather than engage in maneuvers that might be tactically effective in the short run but would be deleterious in the long run. Perhaps he’d learned something from the whole experience.
“Very well. What do you want from me, then?”
“I want you to step down as leader of your party. I do not want you to run for prime minister again. Let someone else take your place. I want you to stay in the army.”
Mike hesitated. It was so tempting…
But, no. He’d be making that same mistake. Undoubtedly the oldest mistake in the political book and probably the most destructive. You always needed to think in the long term. Stabilizing and strengthening the new relationship that Gustav Adolf was seeking with him was more important than gaining a temporary advantage in negotiations.
“Ask for something else, Gustav. That one’s a freebie. Ah, ‘freebie’ means—”
“I know what it means.” The emperor cocked his head quizzically. “But I’m not sure I understand the term in this context.”
“I was not planning to run for prime minister anyway. I made that decision before I even got here. Since I arrived, I’ve spent several hours discussing it with my wife and several other close political associates. We’re all agreed it would be best if I didn’t run again.”
Clearly, the emperor had not anticipated that answer. He took a moment to finish his coffee.
“I am surprised,” he said, after setting down the cup. “You could win, you know. Quite easily, I think. Your popularity is at an all-time high in the nation.” He chuckled. “It’s that ‘Prince of Germany’ business.”
Mike shrugged. “Yes, I know—but that’s also the problem. I’ve become too…what’s the word? ‘Princely,’ I guess. I make too many people nervous, on the one hand. And on the other—which I think may be worse—I make too many other people too ambitious.”
“ ‘Too ambitious’? What do you mean?”
He gave Gustav Adolf a level stare. “You know perfectly damn well what I mean. A prime minister had a clearly delineated position within the law. Powerful, but limited. A prince…has no clear limits. He might be capable of anything. What produces fear in some quarters can produce delusions of grandeur in another. Well, not that, exactly. I’d have to be the one with delusions of grandeur, and while I have my faults, that’s just not one of them. But some of my supporters would get too…enthusiastic, let’s say.”
Neither one of them said anything for perhaps half a minute. Then Gustav Adolf sighed softly and slumped a bit in his chair.
“Thank you for that, Michael. Yes, that is exactly where my fears lay.” He took a slow, deep breath and let it out. “Who would you run then?”
“We haven’t decided yet. Either Strigel or Piazza. But since Ed isn’t here yet, we can’t make any final decision.”
The emperor smiled a bit crookedly. “My own preference would be your wife, actually. But I suppose that’s impractical.”
Mike’s smile was not crooked at all. “Leaving aside the fact that the Germanies are not ready for a Jewess as prime minister, Becky would have a fit if anyone proposed it. She doesn’t like being in the limelight.”
He finished his own coffee. “And it wouldn’t be a good idea anyway—although I agree with you that she’d be superb in the office. The problem is that prince business again. Too many people—both those overly fearful as well as those overly rambunctious—would assume that she was simply my surrogate.”
He shook his head. “No, it’s got to be either Matthias or Ed.”
“Of the two, my own recommendation would be Piazza.”
“Privately, I agree. I’m curious though, Gustav. What’s your reasoning?”
“Two factors