cutting dead everyone else with glorious scorn. Though his movements seemed random, he was in fact quartering the chamber with military precision, making sure he saw everyone who mattered and marking their face and position in his memory. It was important to know who had come to court, and who had not, or sent a holo in their place. Knowledge was everything in the cut and thrust politics of Lionstone's court. The Campbell approved, when he thought about it. A certain genteel savagery helped to weed out the weak and the timid.
His gaze suddenly lightened as it fell upon a familiar but uncommon face, and he strode briskly through the crowd, giving people just enough time to get out of his way if they were quick.
"Summerlsle, my dear fellow," he said finally, an unusual warmth forcing its way past his usual growl. "A pleasure to see you, as always. What brings you to court?"
Lord Roderik Summerlsle bowed formally in return. Against the current fashion, he showed his true age in his lined face and thick white hair, though his back
was still straight and he held his head high. The Summerlsle disapproved of the current court almost as much as it disapproved of him, and he was rarely seen in public. He dressed in the formal style of the previous Emperor, even though it was forbidden, and kept dangerous company. No one ever said anything. The Summerlsle had been a master duelist in his day, and no one was at all sure that day was over. He smiled at the Campbell almost reluctantly and took the proffered hand.
"Campbell, looking as disreputable as ever, I see. Still in favor? Of course, silly question. It's been years since I last found it necessary to attend court, but some things never change. Virtue still goes unrewarded, and the scum still rises to the top."
Campbell grinned. "You never did approve of me, Summerlsle. Lucky we're friends, or we'd have killed each other years ago."
"Oh, I doubt it," said the Summerlsle solemnly. "You were never that good with a sword."
Campbell produced a sudden bark of laughter, and people who'd been edging closer to eavesdrop quickly moved away again. It was said by many and believed by most that the Campbell's sense of humor was more dangerous than his rage. Campbell and Summerlsle had been rivals since they were born, and down the long years had been surprised to find it was easier to like an enemy they admired than an ally who had to be supported for Family reasons. The Vogue and the honest man, friends despite themselves, bound as tightly as only opposites can be. Campbell fixed Summerlsle with a thoughtful stare and moved a little closer.
"What does bring you here, after all these years? I thought you'd decided politics were for the lower orders, like myself."
"My opinion of this court has not changed one iota. You are the living proof, Campbell. How many better men have you trampled underfoot to reach your present position?"
"I stopped counting. It was starting to make me big-headed."
Summerlsle shook his head slowly. "You are everything I despise in this court, and I am everything you've sought to stamp out in your long career of murder and double-dealing. What do we have in common?"
Campbell let fly with his sudden bark of laughter again. "Dead enemies, mostly.
We've survived because we've outlived everyone who tried to kill us. We've seen Emperors come and go, and the Empire spread a hundredfold. Political parties rise and fall, businesses bloom and wither, but we go on, matchless and unstoppable. Who else could we talk to, who've seen what we've seen, fought as we have fought? Personally, I like you because you don't take any shit from anyone. Especially me. As for you, you value the truth where you hear it, even if you don't like what it's telling you. You know where you are with me, Rod."
Summerlsle smiled briefly. "You always did talk too much, Crawford. How are your sons?"
"A pain in the ass, as always. All married off at last and producing grandchildren, but otherwise
His gaze suddenly lightened as it fell upon a familiar but uncommon face, and he strode briskly through the crowd, giving people just enough time to get out of his way if they were quick.
"Summerlsle, my dear fellow," he said finally, an unusual warmth forcing its way past his usual growl. "A pleasure to see you, as always. What brings you to court?"
Lord Roderik Summerlsle bowed formally in return. Against the current fashion, he showed his true age in his lined face and thick white hair, though his back
was still straight and he held his head high. The Summerlsle disapproved of the current court almost as much as it disapproved of him, and he was rarely seen in public. He dressed in the formal style of the previous Emperor, even though it was forbidden, and kept dangerous company. No one ever said anything. The Summerlsle had been a master duelist in his day, and no one was at all sure that day was over. He smiled at the Campbell almost reluctantly and took the proffered hand.
"Campbell, looking as disreputable as ever, I see. Still in favor? Of course, silly question. It's been years since I last found it necessary to attend court, but some things never change. Virtue still goes unrewarded, and the scum still rises to the top."
Campbell grinned. "You never did approve of me, Summerlsle. Lucky we're friends, or we'd have killed each other years ago."
"Oh, I doubt it," said the Summerlsle solemnly. "You were never that good with a sword."
Campbell produced a sudden bark of laughter, and people who'd been edging closer to eavesdrop quickly moved away again. It was said by many and believed by most that the Campbell's sense of humor was more dangerous than his rage. Campbell and Summerlsle had been rivals since they were born, and down the long years had been surprised to find it was easier to like an enemy they admired than an ally who had to be supported for Family reasons. The Vogue and the honest man, friends despite themselves, bound as tightly as only opposites can be. Campbell fixed Summerlsle with a thoughtful stare and moved a little closer.
"What does bring you here, after all these years? I thought you'd decided politics were for the lower orders, like myself."
"My opinion of this court has not changed one iota. You are the living proof, Campbell. How many better men have you trampled underfoot to reach your present position?"
"I stopped counting. It was starting to make me big-headed."
Summerlsle shook his head slowly. "You are everything I despise in this court, and I am everything you've sought to stamp out in your long career of murder and double-dealing. What do we have in common?"
Campbell let fly with his sudden bark of laughter again. "Dead enemies, mostly.
We've survived because we've outlived everyone who tried to kill us. We've seen Emperors come and go, and the Empire spread a hundredfold. Political parties rise and fall, businesses bloom and wither, but we go on, matchless and unstoppable. Who else could we talk to, who've seen what we've seen, fought as we have fought? Personally, I like you because you don't take any shit from anyone. Especially me. As for you, you value the truth where you hear it, even if you don't like what it's telling you. You know where you are with me, Rod."
Summerlsle smiled briefly. "You always did talk too much, Crawford. How are your sons?"
"A pain in the ass, as always. All married off at last and producing grandchildren, but otherwise
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