A Knight of Ghosts and Shadows by Poul Anderson. Chapter 1, 2

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Broader features, curved nose, full mouth, crow’s-wing locks recalled

Persis d’Io as she had been when she and Flandry said farewell on a

planet now destroyed, he not knowing she bore his child. The tan of

strange suns, the lines creased by squinting into strange weathers, had

not altogether gone from Hazeltine in the six weeks since he reached

Terra. But his unsophisticated ways meant only that he had spent his

life on the fringes of the Empire. He had caroused with a gusto to match

his father’s. He had shown the same taste in speech–

(“–an itchy position for me, my own admiral looking for a nice lethal

job he could order me to do,” Flandry reminisced. “Fenross hated my

guts. He didn’t like the rest of me very much, either. I saw I’d better

produce a stratagem, and fast.”

(“Did you?” Hazeltine inquired.

(“Of course. You see me here, don’t you? It’s practically a sine qua non

of a field agent staying alive, that he be able to outthink not just the

opposition, but his superiors.”

(“No doubt you were inspired by the fact that ‘stratagem’ spelled

backwards is ‘megatarts.’ The prospect of counting your loose women by

millions should give plenty of incentive.”

(Flandry stared. “Now I’m certain you’re my bairn! Though to be frank,

that awesomely pleasant notion escaped me. Instead, having developed my

scheme, I confronted a rather ghastly idea which has haunted me ever

afterward: that maybe there’s no one alive more intelligent than I.”)

–and yet, and yet, an underlying earnestness always remained with him.

Perhaps he had that from his mother: that, and pride. She’d let the

infant beneath her heart live, abandoned her titled official lover,

resumed her birthname, gone from Terra to Sassania and started anew as a

dancer, at last married reasonably well, but kept young Dominic by her

till he enlisted. Never had she sent word back from her frontier home,

not when Flandry well-nigh singlehanded put down the barbarians of

Scotha and was knighted for it, not when Flandry well-nigh singlehanded

rescued the new Emperor’s favorite granddaughter and headed off a

provincial rebellion and was summoned Home to be rewarded. Nor had her

son, who always knew his father’s name, called on him until lately, when

far enough along in his own career that nepotism could not be thought

necessary.

Thus Dominic Hazeltine refused the offer of merry chitchat and said in

his burred un-Terran version of Anglic, “Well, if you’ve been taking

what amounts to a long vacation, the more reason why you wouldn’t have

kept trace of developments. Maybe his Majesty simply hasn’t been

bothering you about them, and has been quite concerned himself for quite

some while. Regardless, I’ve been yonder and I know.”

Flandry dropped the remnant of his cigarette in an ash-taker. “You wound

my vanity, which is no mean accomplishment,” he replied. “Remember, for

three or four years earlier–between the time I came to his notice and

the time we could figure he was planted on the throne too firmly to have

a great chance of being uprooted–I was one of his several right hands.

Field and staff work both, specializing in the problem of making the

marches decide they’d really rather keep Hans for their Emperor than

revolt all over again. Do you think, if he sees fresh trouble where I

can help, he won’t consult me? Or do you think, because I’ve been

utilizing a little of the hedonism I fought so hard to preserve, I’ve

lost interest in my old circuits? No, I’ve followed the news, and an

occasional secret report.”

He stirred, tossed off his drink, and added, “Besides, you claim the

Gospodar of Dennitza is our latest problem child. But you’ve also said

you were working Sector Arcturus: almost diametrically opposite, and

well inside those vaguenesses we are pleased to call the borders of the

Empire. Tell me, then–you’ve been almighty unspecific about your

operations, and I supposed that was because you were under security, and

didn’t pry–tell me, as far as you’re allowed, what does the space

around Arcturus have to do with Dennitza? With anything in the Taurian

Sector?”

“I stayed mum because I didn’t want to spoil this occasion,” Hazeltine

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