Part 22 (2/2)

Cortin swallowed, hard. How could she refuse such an offer, whether she believed it justified or not? She looked at Odeon, almost desperately, but saw no help there; he looked both smug and as pleased as she thought she ought to be, so she turned her attention back to Bradford. Worse, this fit in with what she'd experienced--and preferred not to think about--while she'd been under Sis' drugs. ”The catch?”

”We're hoping you don't think there is one--or at least not one bad enough to stop you from accepting the position. As I said, there'll be less field work, but to balance that, you'll be able to flag any topic you want information on, and you'll be able to requisition any prisoner you want to question yourself. You'll also be asked to carry out the most difficult interrogations as well, and executions of the worst criminals. What do you say?”

”That it all sounds much too good to be true,” Cortin replied. Jumping from Captain to Colonel, the highest Enforcement rank, plus joining the Royal Household, access to any information or prisoners she wanted . . . it was hard to believe she could be offered all that, even with the reputation she now took pride in. And the vision, or hallucination, or whatever it had been that said this was going to happen. She sipped at her drink, a freshly-pressed cider. She did have to admit it was hard to refuse, though. ”What else?”

”The clincher, I hope,” Bradford said. ”A commander who can resist personal threats or promises is often vulnerable to the same pressures on his--or her, of course--people. So a reminder: your team will remain with you. If you're part of the Household, that means they'll be attached to it--members of the King's Own, reporting to you. Not as prestigious as being Household members, and it doesn't carry automatic promotion, but they'll also live near the Palace compound--in your Lodge, if they don't mind living in a building that also houses the High King's Inquisitor and a state-of-the-art interrogation suite.”

Not as overwhelming an offer as the one to herself, but Cortin nodded.

”You're right, Brad, that is the clincher. Even though you might not have needed it, if you'd given me time to think; I would've realized what the offer meant for them.”

”You accept, then.”

”Yes.”

”Good.” Bradford smiled. ”On His Majesty's behalf, then, as well as from me: Congratulations, Colonel Cortin.” He stood, raising his gla.s.s. ”Gentles, I give you Her Excellency Colonel Joan Cortin, the High King's Inquisitor.”

The others followed suit. Illyanov and Odeon exchanged glances, Odeon obviously trying to look solemn but spoiling the effect with a smile he couldn't hide. Illyanov raised an eyebrow, then nodded, and Odeon said, ”To Your Excellency's continued health and happiness.” The diners drank the formal toast, then sat back down, and Odeon dropped his attempt to look solemn. ”High King's Inquisitor--Joanie, you couldn't've asked for a better place to hunt those plaguers from!”

”No, I don't think I could,” Cortin agreed. ”It's still hard to believe I'd get tapped for it, though--talent or not, I don't have that much experience.” She paused long enough to eat some stuffed shrimp and take a drink of cider, then she went on. ”If there'd been a position like this earlier, I'd've expected it to go to someone like Brad or Ivan, with experience.”

”I do not know about Brad,” Illyanov said with a smile, ”but I am not qualified. I am immediately subject to Czar Nicholas, not to High King Mark. Since you express interest, however--I have been informed that I am under consideration for that position on St. Dmitri. I should like to teach you the advanced techniques we did not have time for earlier, but I should also like to return to my wife and children in New Moscow.

Despite the climate.”

”New Colorado's bad enough in the winter,” Cortin agreed. ”I'd like to go to your home world some day, on a.s.signment or leave--but I hope it's in summer!”

”It is far more pleasant then,” Illyanov said, chuckling. ”Should I get the position and require your a.s.sistance, I shall try to a.s.sure it is in summer. Should you go there at any time, however, I would like you to meet my family. You will like them, I think, especially Elena and the girls, but I must warn you: the boys, especially Pyotr, will beg you for war stories, and they can be most persistent.”

”I think I can handle that,” Cortin said, amused. ”You'll all be welcome at the Lodge, of course.” She turned to Bain. ”That goes for your brother's family, too, you know.”

”Thanks . . .” Bain said, hesitantly. ”But I'm not sure they'd be comfortable in the capital.”

”I'm not sure I'll be comfortable there,” Cortin said, then turned to Bradford. ”Brad, all any of us know about life in New Denver comes from the news and--if we read them, which I sometimes do for laughs--the society columns. What's it really like?”

”I don't want to disappoint you,” Bradford said, ”but most of the time it's actually quite ordinary. You'll wear dress uniform more often, you'll be expected to attend important Palace functions, and your team will act as bodyguards any time you leave the Compound; otherwise, except for taking orders only from His Majesty--no one else can do more than request--you should find things fairly normal.” He grinned.

”You'll find out, starting tomorrow . . . if Your Excellency cares to join Their Highnesses on the return flight.”

Cortin swallowed. That shouldn't have surprised her, but it did--a flight to New Denver with the Crown Prince and Princess wouldn't be unusual for a member of the Royal Household, and she would get used to it, she supposed. Right now, though, it was a shock. She brought herself under control and said, ”I'd be honored. Arrangements will have to be made, of course, to return our horses and pick up our personal gear. Oh, and we'll need proper insignia.”

”All taken care of,” Bradford said. ”We had plenty of time while you were under treatment.”

Cortin absorbed that, starting on her dessert. It sounded at first like Bradford or His Majesty had a.s.sumed, even before asking, that she would accept--and maybe they had, she couldn't know--but a little thought told her that wasn't necessarily the case. Bradford could carry all the insignia in a pocket, all of their personal gear wouldn't strain a single packhorse, and if she refused, they could all be returned to Middletown with only a slight loss of time. ”Thanks--that was kind of you.”

”Call it enlightened self-interest,” Bradford said. ”And I do have something to ask, when and if your primary duties permit.”

”Of course, if I'm able.”

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