The Guns of Empire Read Online Free Page A

instructions.”
    That brought a faint smile to Raesinia’s lips. Her Head of Household was asjumpy as a startled cat, unhappy at how hastily the conference had been assembled and how little time she’d been given to secure the site. Though, truth be told, Raesinia wasn’t sure any amount of time would have been enough for Sothe to feel comfortable. It had been almost six months since their clash with the Penitent Damned, but the attack of the supernatural assassins had clearly left a deep impression. Sothe opened every door as though she expected to find a murderous Black Priest behind it.
    The carriage drew to a halt, and a few moments later Raesinia heard the second vehicle draw up behind it. Booted feet crunched on the gravel, and there was a rap at the door.
    â€œYour Majesty?” Barely said from outside. “We’re ready.”
    Raesinia glanced at Sothe and got a slight nod. She stood, hardly needing to duck to fit through the doorway, and stepped out.
    At least wartime was good for banishing some of the more ridiculous formality of the royal court. Raesinia wore a sober dress of black and gray, with a sash in Vordanai blue providing the only splash of color. She’d impressed upon her dressmakers that it wouldn’t do to have the queen going around in some gaudy confection while Vordanai soldiers were risking their lives at the front. Sothe, coming behind her, was dressed even more severely, in a long, dark skirt that Raesinia assumed provided plenty of space for concealed weapons. As an ex-Concordat assassin, Sothe never went unarmed.
    Her guards formed a loose ring around the carriage. She’d restored the old Grenadier Guards to their traditional position of protecting the person of the monarch, but insisted on adding a few of Colonel Ihernglass’ Girls’ Own to her security detail. The Grenadier Guards
looked
handsome, with their tailored uniforms, polished caps, and colorful sashes, but they hadn’t been very effective the last time it had come to a fight.
    The two women Ihernglass had left her, in contrast, had been part of the group that had rescued her from Maurisk and Ionkovo during the last throes of the previous year’s fighting. Corporal Barley was universally known as “Barely,” the joke being that with her slight stature she was barely there at all. She was a canny soldier, though, and a deadly fighter. Her companion, the mute Joanna, was a foot taller and built like a blacksmith. Raesinia had a good deal more faith in these veterans—and Sothe’s diligence—than in the spit-and-polish men of the Guards.
    More local armsmen stood at the entrance to the hotel. A bowing footman led the way inside, Raesinia and Sothe at the center of a column of smart blueuniforms. They wound their way through the lobby, drawing bows and stares from the curious staff, and toward the ballroom. Sothe accepted a scrap of paper from a hurrying messenger, glanced at it, and bent close to Raesinia’s ear.
    â€œEveryone’s here, except for Janus. Apparently there’s been a delay on the road.”
    Raesinia frowned. They’d deliberately tried to arrive after the First Consul, just to make the relative hierarchy clear to the foreign guests.
Did he anticipate that? Is this a message?
Or, of course, a cart-horse could have thrown a shoe.
    â€œThere’s more.” Sothe grimaced. “Orlanko is here.”
    â€œWhat?”
Raesinia hissed.
    Orlanko, the infamous Last Duke, had been the head of the Concordat secret police and had tried to seize power after her father’s death. His coup had been thwarted with Janus’ help, but the man himself had fled the country after his final attempt to turn the army against Raesinia had failed.
    â€œAs a guest of the Borelgai. The king’s given him shelter.” Sothe lowered her voice even further. “Do you want me to put together a squad to arrest him?”
    Damnation.
Satisfying