He turned his head and gave the colonel a very cheerful grin. “I think it has a nice ring to it, myself. Sharon, baroness of Bornholm.”
Ekstrom matched the grin. The large island of Bornholm was perhaps the single most strategic position in the southern Baltic. It was also Danish territory.
“Send the message, Colonel. One word will suffice. ‘Yes.’ ”
Still, Ekstrom hesitated. “Are you—” He steeled himself. He was the only royal adviser in Luebeck, after all. True, the king could speak to Torstensson over the radio. True again, Torstensson had advised the king to accept the terms. But Oxenstierna was absent and unreachable, and Ekstrom felt a certain responsibility to try his best to fill the great chancellor’s place.
“Kristina—perhaps—”
“Enough, Colonel. I say the answer is ‘yes,’ and I will not quibble. Besides . . .”
The king returned his gaze to the horizon. “Let the world think of her as a ‘hostage,’ if they will. I do not. And neither, I am quite certain, does Michael Stearns. I have studied the man, Colonel. Very carefully, these past two years. I do not believe—any longer, if I ever did—in predestination. That, too, is the message of the Ring of Fire. I do, on the other hand, believe in character.”
Slowly, and with what appeared to be great satisfaction, Gustav Adolf’s eyes scanned the entire vista. “This is a man who killed as few Spaniards as he could, at the Wartburg. Prevented his own people from unleashing poison into the world. Managed to reconcile his most bitter enemy, once the time came and that was possible. Such a man will not murder a child, simply for the sake of small political gains. He might be ruthless enough, but he is not that stupid. Because he understands that certain ends preclude certain means. Or victory becomes a meaningless word.”
Ekstrom thought upon it; and found himself agreeing.
“There is more,” the king continued. “A ‘hostage’ is also a pledge. And has not Michael Stearns made that same pledge, to the world? Pledged his wife to one nation, and his sister to yet another? There is no triumph without risk, Colonel Ekstrom. Never trust a man who thinks there is. Down that road you arrive at John George.”
The king’s lips peeled back in a smile which was barely distinguishable from a snarl. “The elector of Saxony, who is about to discover that he is no longer the greatest of Germany’s princes. And will soon enough discover—the stinking treacherous swine—that he is no prince at all. I remember all my wounds. Especially those in my back.”
He pushed himself away from the wall and gave Ekstrom a hearty slap on the shoulder. “Go now! Besides, think how thrilled Kristina will be at the news. She won’t mind at all, I can assure you of that.”
Ekstrom didn’t have to think upon that. “She’ll be jumping for joy,” he predicted, smiling himself. “As long as they let her keep a good horse.”
Chapter 52
Mary Simpson was relieved to see that Mike Stearns showed up for the soiree in the imperial palace properly dressed. True, he’d promised her he would, but . . .
There was at least a part of Mary Simpson left which was uncertain about the peculiar creature known as Mike Stearns. Who knew when the man might suddenly choose to present himself before Germany’s princes dressed as an uncouth barbarian?
But, he hadn’t. Properly dressed, indeed.
She examined him for a moment, as he stood in the archway after having been announced by the stentorian-voiced majordomo. It was not hard to do so, since Mary did not have a milling crowd swirling around to obscure her view of him. The whole room had grown still and silent the moment his entrance was announced.
There were perhaps three hundred people in the great hall. Most of the crowd consisted of the princes who had thrown themselves in with Hesse-Kassel’s Crown Loyalists, along with their wives and closest relatives. Perhaps two dozen people from Magdeburg’s new class of prominent manufacturers and merchants, looking somewhat uncomfortable and out of place in that glittering noble assemblage. A handful of top officers in Gustav’s army, led by General Torstensson, along with the three top officers of the U.S. Armed Forces—her husband the admiral, General Jackson and Colonel Wood. Sharon Nichols and her father James, who had just arrived this morning in Magdeburg. Veronica Dreeson, looking very uncomfortable and out of place.