The Shadows of God - J. Gregory Keyes [133]
“I spoke more simply,” Oglethorpe said. “Gunpowder and bayonets work as well as they ever did, and are still terrible things. But the carnage they wreak is of a small sort compared to the arms we wielded in this battle. We are protected from ourselves, as well as from the malakim.”
“But who knows whether the laws of nature that rule now will allow even more terrible ones?” Thomas Nairne said.
“There is that possibility,” Ben replied, “though we can be optimistic that we have learned our lesson.”
“Unless the laws that govern Man's nature have changed, I rather doubt that,” Philippe replied, “but I will try to be optimistic with the rest of you.”
“We shall see it put to the test,” Oglethorpe said. “The Pretender still sits on his throne in Charles Town, and Russia is surely in chaos. There is still work to do.”
“But surely we can rest,” Philippe said. “Your men are welcome to stay here and grow strong, and from what I understand, the Pretender's throne is an unsteady one. Without his underwater boats and flying ships and mechanical men, things will go harder for him.”
“No doubt,” Oglethorpe said. “But I, for one, cannot rest long. Azilia needs all of her sons, and I will soon return.”
“Apalachee the same,” Don Pedro replied. “But we have conquered the forces of Satan, my friends, and after that all things are easy.”
“And you, Mr. Franklin?”
Ben considered that. “I have a new world to explore,” he said. “Natural laws have changed, but they cannot have changed much. The Earth still spins about the Sun, fire still burns in the hearth. I note with interest that when my gravity-repelling devices ceased to function in the Swedenborgian airships, still those ships merely glided to the ground. There is much to explore here. But it will all be worthless if we do not learn to behave better. General Oglethorpe is correct in that. I would see the world free of tyranny. I would see peace. I will work toward that first, and to the unity of our allied nations.”
“A toast to peace,” Nairne proclaimed, and again they filled their glasses and drank. That was the end of the cognac.
Philippe regarded the empty bottle dolefully. “We might say that that was what remained of old France,” he said softly. “I think, now, that we need a new one. Not a new bottle, but a new France. Mr. Franklin, you said you wished to rid the world of tyranny. I wonder if you would be interested in ridding France of her king?”
“What do you mean, Your Majesty?”
“Even when I was the duke of Orléans, I had sympathy for the republican qualities of England. The crown has never sat easily on my head, and with the passing of Charles and Peter, all of the great old monarchies are dead. Yes, the Chinese still have their emperor and the Turks their sultan, but it is best to admit that the age of kings is past, I think. I should like to design a better system of government, but as my late wife was wont to point out, I am not a brilliant man. I shall need help.”
“I should be honored to help,” Ben replied. “But this is an unknown country for us all. We should proceed with caution.”
“Ha!” Oglethorpe replied. “It was not caution that won us the day here. We must be bold. We must declare our intentions.”
“I'm glad to hear you say that,” Ben replied. “For it is just that about which I've asked Monsieur Voltaire to speak to us a few days hence.” He rose. “And now, gentlemen, if you will excuse me, I wish to see my wife.”
The soldiers settled Adrienne's sedan chair on the bluff by the sea and then retreated a few yards to chatter and smoke their pipes. Crecy regarded the sun-bright waters with her.
“What was it all for, Veronique?” Adrienne asked, watching the sea birds wheel. “Nicolas, Hercule, my son—what did they give their lives for?”
“Why—for all this,” Crecy replied, sweeping one hand to the horizon.
Adrienne rubbed her cold, stonelike