The Ashes of Worlds - Kevin J. Anderson [51]
Viewed on the close-up screen, Rory seemed to be counting to himself, and when he lowered his hands at the appropriate moment, the discharge vanished, as if at his command, leaving the crowd in awed silence.
After the deputy blinked the afterburn from his eyes, he expected to see towers devastated, fires blazing on the rooftops. But he quickly realized that no actual damage had been done. Not only had King Rory called down the lightning, but he had protected them all. Perfect.
“Well-grounded lightning rods placed beforehand,” Basil explained. “They should be removed before anyone thinks to look around. See to that, please.”
Cain nodded, more uneasy than awestruck.
Basil surveyed the stunned crowd, looking very satisfied. “That should keep those annoying anti-Hansa protesters quiet for a while. Have there been any further incidents?”
Cain struggled to bring his thoughts back to the present. “Always, Mr. Chairman. The resistance groups are becoming more organized.”
“Then find them.”
Kulu and Andropolis were on their feet, congratulating each other. “God has certainly shown his will tonight,” Andropolis said with a satisfied sigh. “Who could question it?”
* * *
34
King Peter
When Celli delivered Nira’s announcement on Theroc, Peter turned pale. “King Rory? It can’t be.”
Estarra glanced at him, sharing his confusion and uneasiness. Peter knew that the Queen understood, although no one else did — except for Basil. Damn him! This was a lower blow than he could have expected, even from the unstable Chairman.
Rory . . . How could he possibly still be alive?
First Nira said the Chairman had kidnapped the Mage-Imperator and tried to force him to renounce his alliance with the Confederation, torturing him with isolation to break him. And now he had hauled out Rory . . . long-dead, sweet Rory. It was not possible.
“Oh, Basil is an evil bastard,” he said. “Describe it to me again, Celli. Every minute. And describe the young man.”
Surprised by his reaction, the green priest repeated Nira’s message, and Peter nodded slowly to himself, feeling sick inside. “Excuse me. I need some time alone. Estarra and I have to talk.”
The Queen was already on her feet, and Peter followed her into their temporary quarters. When they were alone, he rested his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands. “Everyone else thinks that was just a political announcement, finally putting a replacement king on the throne, but Basil knew it was vastly more personal to me. He intended to twist the knife. It’s his way of threatening me.”
Sitting down, Estarra cradled little Reynald in her arms and leaned back so that she could nurse the baby. “You think it’s really your brother? Could it be a trick?”
Peter tried to work it out in his mind. His whole family had been killed almost ten years ago when their apartment building exploded — the result of sabotage conducted by Hansa henchmen to clear away all connections to Peter/Raymond. They wanted no one who could challenge his identity with any sort of genetic proof.
And now King Rory could not be a coincidence. Basil had made that perfectly clear by insisting that Nira send the message.
Estarra tried to sound sensible. “The very idea that your little brother could still be alive, held out of sight all these years, is absurd.”
Peter drew a deep breath. “And yet if anyone could be so insidious, it’d be Basil.”
“But if he really had a secret weapon to keep you in line, why would he wait until now? You could just denounce this new King Rory — explain that he must be a complete fake. That would take away whatever hold the Chairman thinks he has over you.”
Peter shook his head. “If I chose that course of action, I would be forced to denounce my own rule. I’d have to admit I’m just a street kid given a makeover and thrust into this position. Whether Rory’s my brother or not, I’m as much a fake as he is.” He paced around the