Destruction and Rebirth
July SY153
My fortnightly strategy briefing is something I endure, rather than enjoy. It's undeniably useful for my various military and security advisors to keep me up to date with the course of the war, and any other issues of potential importance, and at least I have enough of a grip on strategy to understand most of it, but it doesn't stop it usually being a long morning. After all, it's been a long war.
The briefing on July 9th was no exception, although we'd at least made some positive progress over the last couple of months. For a start, we had recently reconquered one of the last three worlds we had lost to the Black Friday offensive (the other ten having fallen slowly over the intervening years), although as always with these things, nothing is ever as easy as it seems. Specifically, that particular world - Nevers - was now suffering from a Wehrwolf infestation. By which I don't mean fur, teeth and silver bullets, but rather sabotage groups left behind to cause trouble as the enemy retreated (or in the case of Nevers, fled with their tails between their legs).
William reported that there had been another Wehrwolf attack on one of the groups we had sent to the Shadow to survey what resources had been left over after nearly eighty years of occupation, and that he was dispatching a group of specialists to see if they could deal with that problem once and for all. It seemed to make sense. While a small group could cover less ground, on the upside the right group could be basically self-sufficient, and their attention wouldn't be diverted by anything except the mission at hand. At least theoretically. Oh boy did I fail to realise just how that was going to work out.
Of course, Nevers wasn't the only world where we had an active military presence, and William, O'Connor and Francis all had various issues and strategies to add to the meeting. Andrew, back in town and attending for the first time since the working to exclude the Machine at the end of May, seemed unusually reticent, though, apart from when he was giving his general report. As if he had something else on his mind. And Gray, for Gray, was positively quiet. Much as I love my son and respect my friend, I was left with the nagging feeling that they were up to something, and that if I asked, they'd regale me with the credo of plausible deniability.
Briefly, I wondered if it had anything to do with the fact that the previous Sunday, at my regular meeting with brother Rupert, he had seemed edgier than normal, and more than usually petulant. Of course, the fall of Nevers would probably have caused that on its own, given how important it had been to the Reich economy since it had fallen into their hands in '75. But if I didn't know better, I'd have said he was worried, and I'd had an inexplicable sense of unease since we'd met.
We adjourned at lunchtime, slightly to my relief, and the others headed off about their business. Claire was out on Karstadt for the day, waving the flag now that things were getting back to normal there after the Machine's attempts at troublemaking earlier in the year. In the meantime, I was scheduled for a trip to Riversend, accompanying the respective commanders of the Naval Base and the Garrison on a tour of inspection, followed by a reception that evening during which medals would be awarded. So once the meeting had adjourned, I grabbed a quick lunch and made ready to be on my best behaviour for the rest of the day.
The day passed pretty smoothly, but for some reason it was more of a relief than normal when Claire and I finally settled down for a quiet nightcap and discussed the day, as we often do when there isn't a crisis. The old married couple thing, I suppose. However, I was bothered by that sense of unease, which if anything seemed to be getting stronger. Maybe I'd just been overworking over the last few months, what with the Machine problems, sorting out Stefan, and so on.
I tried to brush it off, and we eventually turned in around midnight. I'm not sure how much later it was when the nightmare started. When it hit, though, it did it with the force of a pile driver. From what had previously been an unexciting dream about day to day thises and that's, mostly involving military inspections and ceremonies, my dream self suddenly couldn't breathe, almost as if it was drowning. And then I was hit by pain and all around me turned red with blood and fire. Burning. Searing heat. Screaming.
I snapped awake, in a cold sweat and shaking. I didn't' think I was screaming, but I supposed I must have cried out, at least somewhat, as Claire awoke almost simultaneously.
"What is it, love?" she said, her face a picture of concern, as she placed a comforting hand on my shoulder.
"I have no idea," I answered, quietly, realising that unease was now out and out fear, and that I was still shaking, "but whatever it is, it's bad, and it's still happening."
"I understand," she replied, with a slight nod, "is there anything I can do?"
"I don't think so. But I won't know for sure until I've figured it out. But if there is..."
"Of course."
I pulled myself vertical and then sat on the edge of the bed for a moment, still shaking. Once I felt strong enough to stand, I quickly dressed and headed for my favourite chair in the drawing room of the suite. I made myself comfortable and settled down to figure out what the hell was going on, hoping to Hell that Rupert hadn't done something stupid. From the feel of whatever it was, he was about the only other person who could have got that kind of reaction out of me.
I had barely started concentrating when I felt an incoming Trump call. I considered ignoring it, but it felt unusually strong and unusually urgent, and when I checked my caller it was my brother. I opened the link, wishing I was surprised it was him.
"I need your help, Robert. Now. Bring the Sable Jewel."
"What's wrong?" I asked. He looked terrible, and his face was grey with pain.
"Later," he answered tersely, "right now, I haven't got time to argue."
"Give me a minute to fetch it and I'll call you back."
"For fuck's sake, Robert. This is no time to be coy about where you keep the bloody thing. You can always hide it again later. Please..."
I'd never seen him in this mood before - inches away from blind panic and desperation in his tone - so somewhat against my better judgement, but mindful that this was almost certainly related to whatever my nightmare had been about, I concentrated on my link to the aforementioned bauble and brought it to me from where I keep it concealed, then offered him my hand.
As I stepped through, my first thought was that he'd suckered me into a trap. It was like stepping into void. The location, if that's the right word, felt to be in Reich space, only a couple of Veils from one of their Broken Patterns if I didn't miss my guess. But beyond that, I could see nothing, apart from the tiny area on which we were standing, which felt so strongly that it was part of my brother that he had to have either stabilised it, or built it from scratch. All around was darkness, lit only by a faint red glow, and uncomfortably hot winds where whipping around us with the force of a hurricane. The closest equivalents I could bring to mind were having watched Roland destroy a world using Primal Chaos and, even more worryingly, when James and I had tried to protect Murray when the storm wave from the destruction of Borealis had hit.
I was almost knocked back, but my brother caught me before I could fall, and I noticed that unusually, he had partially shifted to give himself some stability. Given the forces howling around us, it seemed like a bloody good idea, and so I did likewise.
"Help me," he said, urgently, "we have to calm this and quickly. Currently we've lost five Shadows, and if we're not careful, it's going to be more. I've tried, but the tools I have available to me aren't sufficient."
I brief wondered if he was talking about the so-called 'jewel of creation', whatever that meant, which Andrew had assured me he had got from somewhere. My son had gone ballistic when he'd heard about it (and incidentally shot the person who had given it to Rupert, albeit non-fatally, thus showing considerable restraint for Andrew), and was prophesying doom and destruction, but I was reasonably confident that whatever my brother had acquired, it wouldn't have the power within Sable that the actual Sable Jewel had, unless by some hideous twist of fate he'd got his hands on the one I had used to build Sable in the first place. Equally, he could just have been referring to his own inherent abilities, which while similar to mine, aren't as tried and tested.
Still, this wasn't the moment for speculation. That could wait until we had got the problem under control. Instead, I held the Jewel in my hand, concentrated on it - inviting him to do the same - so we could form a link similar to the one we had during the Machine working, and then I set about looking at the damage to see what, if anything, could be done.
Primal Chaos crossed with a major Shadow storm was the best description that I could come up with, although there were energies in the maelstrom which reminded me uncomfortably of the Outside, and the ancient enemy we had recently defeated out there. And whatever it was, unlike the Borealis wave, which had been an external hit, this felt as if the world which had formerly been here had died from the inside, and was now unravelling the Shadows around it. Already there was a gap where multiple worlds had previously existed, and the edges of the Shadows surrounding it were beginning to tear.
"Thoughts?" he asked, mentally.
"We need to do this in two steps," I answered, "First, we need to contain the maelstrom, so it doesn't spread. Then we need to repair the damage."
"How?"
"Follow my lead," I replied, and started to work, my brother and I standing back to back at the centre of the storm.
Primarily, we needed to limit the amount of Shadow the maelstrom could obliterate: quarantine the destructive forces somehow. I concentrated on forming a shield from a combination of the Pattern and the Jewel's specific energies, and felt for the edges of the worlds which were beginning to fail, so we could use the shield to isolate them from the intact Shadows they bordered. This wasn't in any way helped by the fact that the damage was also extending beyond the usual material realm into the worlds of air and water.
Technically, the Sable universe actually comprises four different planes, if you will: the 'earth' Shadows keyed from Magica Superior, where Sable and the Reich operate; the 'air' worlds related to Argent; the 'water' Shadows formed from Azure; and the 'fire' realm, which was completely and utterly a law unto itself but seemed to underlie everything, almost like the burning heart of the whole. What made building the quarantine shield so difficult, was that the equivalent Shadows to those we had lost in our realm were also being damaged. So they, too, needed to be shielded to stop the contagion. Beside me, I could feel my brother taking note of this, and I wondered if, despite the fact that he and I share a lot of our abilities, he'd ever really considered how the four parts of our universe truly fitted together.
Building the shield was going to take time, and of course, the downside was that the destruction around the storm worsened as we worked. I could feel lives ending - and from his agitation had a good idea that Rupert could as well, given that we were in an area of his influence - but it was time for drastic measures, and I had to balance the lives lost on worlds which might already be beyond hope, against saving everyone in the Shadows beyond, his people and mine. I could feel my brother, silent but grimly determined, adding what raw power he could help me as I wove the shield and soon we had built an arcane firebreak.
Once that was in place, it was time to address the damage. I indicated for my brother to concentrate on holding the shield, and then set about trying to bring order out of the chaos at our feet. I stretched out my Pattern-enhanced awareness to feel for the edges of the destruction. Thankfully, while it felt like an area of Primal Chaos, technically there was no Logrus involved and so it wasn't going to precipitate a clash to use a sign of Order to try to heal the gaping wound in the universe. The question was, could I patch the damage more quickly than it expanded?
I set to work, first laying a network of Pattern over the damaged areas in the material universe, anchored some distance into the worlds which were still dying around us, and then began to expand the rock on which we were standing, forming matter using the Pattern network as a skeleton and the Jewel as a focus. I could feel the damage speeding towards the boundaries I had set, and drew harder on my brother's energy reserves and the Jewel itself to try to increase the rate at which I could lay down the new foundations. The niceties of making it a viable Shadow would have to wait until later. He didn't even argue as I drew from him, almost as if he trusted that I wouldn't take more than I needed.
Five years ago, he wouldn't have done that without an argument.
I won the race. Just. After what seemed like hours, but probably wasn't as long as that, the temporary patch was in place, and I could feel that the broken edges of the damaged Shadows were stable, although they would need to be solidified into genuine Shadow boundaries before there was absolutely no further threat. Still, at least there was now matter linking them, rather than void, albeit that it was little more than rock at this point, and the fire realm was once more contained.
Next, I then turned my attention to the damaged water worlds, as I figured they would be easier than the air-based ones to repair in the first instance, given that they are fundamentally material to start with. I concentrated, and slowly and carefully undertook a complete repair, rather than just installing a temporary patch like the one on which we were standing. Eventually I was confident that the breach in that plane was sealed and would hold, and that that area would suffer no further ill effects. By then I was feeling somewhat tired, and really wishing I could call it a night, but there was still more to be done.
With the water realms repaired, I began to consider the worlds deriving from Argent. However, as I began to feel for the edges which needed to be 'sewn together', I was surprised to find myself in contact with another mind which appeared to wish to help. I guessed it had to be either Cathal or his predecessor, Raibeart, the Shadow of myself who had ruled Argent in its early days. Still, whichever of them it was, both knew the workings of the air realms far better than I did, and having their knowledge to draw upon would make things easier. And in truth, I was glad of the assistance, as it would take some pressure off the energy Rupert and I were having to put into the project, even with the Jewel to draw on.
It took me a moment to identify the unfamiliar mind of Duke Raibeart, as he slipped smoothly into a working link with me, although I could detect considerable surprise when he realised that my brother was also part of the process. However, he didn't argue, instead merely feeding me the know-how of the workings of the sky realms, while I provided the creative energy to repair the damage. We worked quickly and carefully, and soon the gaping rent in those worlds was also gone. Once we were satisfied that we'd done a good job, Raibeart withdrew from the link without protest and with my thanks for helping me.
That left properly reinforcing and stabilising the patch in the material world on which Rupert and I were standing, and rebuilding the edges of the damaged worlds. And that was going to be delicate. After all, I was quite certain that my brother would want any of 'his' real estate to be replaced by Shadow-stuff based from the Wewelsburg Pattern, as it was in his territory, and yet it was so tempting to lay down a small bastion of Sable influence to try to effect a change there. However, given that we were still linked, and that if I tried anything he could do me considerable mental and physical damage, I decided not to be an idiot.
"Over to you, I think, brother," I commented to him, mentally.
"Really?" he asked, and I detected surprise from him that I would give him charge of the next stage.
"As you have pointed out yourself, this is your world. Although I suggest that before you do anything, we both consider drawing from the Jewel so we're up to finishing this."
He nodded his agreement, and we spent a few minutes replenishing at least some of our depleted energy directly from the Jewel and taking the opportunity to return to our standard human forms, and then he turned back to me.
"What do I do now?" he asked.
"Keep the Pattern to mind and focus on the Jewel. Then, first you need to make sure the edges of the damaged worlds have been sealed, and then you need to think how you want to mould the shell that's here," I replied, "however, I'd heartily recommend not trying to do anything rash like attempting to inscribe a Pattern, either whole or broken, just because you can."
"Given how close we are to Saxony, even I know that would be a bad idea," he answered, although I couldn't tell if he was annoyed or amused at my suggestion, "there were five worlds here before."
"Don't do anything too complicated. Neither of us has the strength left to for that. Form one, and if the universe feels that the space here should be occupied by more than that, it will adapt. The trick is to give it somewhere to start."
"What about the souls of those who died here? Are they gone forever?"
"Do you care?" I asked, actually curious.
"They were my people," he answered, simply, his tone regretful, "and I felt them die."
His answer surprised me. Maybe he really was growing in spirit and conscience?
"That becomes a two-stage process," I answered, "first collecting the souls, then recreating their bodies. And you would have to trust me to bring them back."
"Why?"
"Because there are some aspects to the Creator/Counterpart relationship that are set in stone," I answered, "and one of those is that only the Creator can mess with the souls of the people of either part of the universe on this kind of scale."
"I would beg to differ," he began to argue.
"Rupert, trust me on this one," I answered, albeit without much hope that he'd listen, "yes, I know you likely experiment with such things on some level in whatever the Hell it is you and your people do at the Wewelsburg. But that is far from the same thing. What I'm talking about is far more fundamental."
"Forgive me if I don't take you at your word."
"That's your prerogative, but it doesn't change the facts."
"Is there any chance that any of them will return without your intervention?"
"Some will. Maybe many, given that I suspect a catastrophe like this will cause more to reincarnate than usual. But there's no guarantee, and they certainly wouldn't come back as the people they were before. It's up to you. Rely on me, or rely on the vagaries of the universe."
He thought about it quite seriously, for longer than I would have liked, before I felt a mental shake of the head.
"You would only impose yourself on them. If I leave it to the universe, at least a quarter of it is sympathetic to my view of things, and hopefully more than that here. So I choose the latter."
I sighed, regretting his choice, but understanding it from his point of view: it was probably natural for him to believe that my motives would be as impure as I suspect his would have been had the situation been reversed.
"As you wish. I suggest you start building. It's just that unlike Sanguine, this time you're doing it in your head, rather than inscribing a physical design."
He nodded, and I felt him begin to work, forming actual substance out of the basic building block we had laid down to seal the edges of the damaged world, and form proper Shadow borders. Once that was done, and I confirmed that we were now looking at discrete worlds, the bent his concentration to the replacement Shadow base on which we were standing, and started linking it to both the universe in general, and the Wewelsburg Pattern in specific.
He obviously wasn't going to risk the possibility that I had imposed anything of my values on the place.
And as he worked, I felt growing discomfort as his ideas and desires were given form: the inherent nature of his vision and what made him tick were so fundamentally at odds with my own, whatever our conscious feelings towards each other, that I really never would be comfortable with them. Moreover, while he seemed to be creating something more diverse than just an Aryan super-Shadow, I had a nagging feeling that at the root of his generosity was some kind of anthropological experiment.
I had to fight against my instincts to stop him and seize control of what he was doing, something that I hope he was unaware of, given how engrossed he was in what he was doing, and felt myself become more and more on edge as he proceeded. However, I could also feel the lives he was creating coming into being. The structures where they would live. The food they would eat. Although the tech level felt lower than I might have expected. And beside me, his distress at the deaths he had felt began to ease as some of those that had passed returned to new bodies, and I couldn't deny the relief I felt as new life returned to the world.
After a while - I can still do this faster than him, it would seem, which is probably to the good - he stopped and I felt him relax.
"Is it done?" he asked, quietly, and as I turned to face him, he looked more exhausted than I had ever seen him. I extended my own senses, and confirmed that a fully functional Shadow now rested in the place where previously there had been destruction and void, even if I didn't like the nature of the bandage.
"It is."
"Thank you, Robert," he answered, looking straight at me, "that was...educational. I still wish I truly understood why you know so much more about such things than I do."
I shrugged.
"Creator/Counterpart, Rupert," I replied, my tone neutral, my sense of unease unabated, "the inherent nature of the universe. And I think you owe me an explanation for what we just fixed."
"You won't like it," he answered, "and we aren't finished here. There is one last thing I require from you."
"You require..." I repeated, and I could hear annoyance in my tone, "I've just saved your butt, and you 'require' more..."
"You saved OUR butts, Mein Bruder," he replied, "this would have affected both of our lands. And you have to bear partial responsibility for the crisis we've just averted."
I looked at him in disbelief, , while he continued without batting an eyelid.
"There was a soul here. I would like it returned. I would like that person restored."
"Anyone I know?" I asked, suspiciously.
"As it happens, yes," he replied, and from the superior way he said it, I knew I wasn't going to like this.
"Go on."
"Your granddaughter...Silke von Halle."
"You have to be kidding?"
"No, Robert," he said quietly, his expression deadly serious, "I'm not."
"You want me to restore one of the Black Knights?"
"I'm still one down on the day, and it wasn't her time," he replied.
It took me a moment to process what he'd said, and then I realised what it was that Gray and Andrew had been failing to mention in the Security Briefing.
"Who was the other?"
"Johan Hartwin," he answered, "your people took him from the world that was here before. Rensburg. I said you weren't going to like this."
"My people couldn't have caused the carnage we've just repaired..." I replied, hoping to God I was right and suddenly afraid that I wasn't.
"Restore Silke to me, and I'll tell you what I know."
"You're going to bloody well tell me what you know anyway, brother dear," I answered, hotly, and I felt him stagger back as my building anger hit him through the Jewel link we were still sharing. I cursed the fact that I had stupidly forgotten to break that link and rectified the oversight. However, I wasn't fast enough to do it before he had reacted to the perceived attack on my part by grabbing me around the throat with his arm, obviously ready to either break my neck or throttle me.
I froze.
"An unprovoked attack is beneath you, brother," he said, quietly.
"It was unintended," I answered, staying stock still and hoping that he could read me well enough to know that I was telling the truth.
"Really?" he replied, obviously unconvinced. The arm didn't budge.
"Really," I answered, trying to let the anger drain out of me, and sounding tired even to my own ears.
"Give Silke back to me as a sign of your good faith, and we talk further," he replied, loosening his grip.
"Why the concern? Is it just because she's one of your Knights?"
"I have my reasons," he answered, "and in truth, I would have thought you would want to help one of your kindred. You've done it in the past. And you owe it to me."
"Why?" I asked, turning to face him.
"Because your people did cause this, however much you'd like to believe otherwise, and I believe I can prove that, even if my evidence wont' stand up in court. Your restoration of Silke will at least be some slight recompense for that."
I knew he wasn't going to back down from the demand, and I sighed.
"You do realise that the same applies as did with the other souls here. That if I do this, you will have to trust that I will act in your best interests. And that given the nature of how this is done, she may well not be the same afterwards, if the restoration works at all...and it isn't guaranteed, and becomes less likely with the passing of time."
He waited, suspicion on his features, for me to continue.
"To rejoin body and soul, I have to put part of my own life-force into it and into her. The question is, are you willing to accept that, to bring her back."
He looked at me, and then did the last thing I expected. He smiled.
"I would rather she lived."
"You're sure?" I asked, close to incredulous, "that's unlike you."
"What? To care about someone else?" he answered, levelly, the smile fading almost as quickly as it had appeared, "I have a family now."
"And I could understand you feeling like this about one of them. But Silke von Halle? You've never struck me as the kind of commander who would care that deeply about his generals."
He looked at me, narrowing his eyes in anger.
"Don't presume to judge me, Mein Bruder," he hissed, "you do not know me as well as you think you do."
"You would rather she lived, whatever form that takes. Even if she is no longer linked to the Black Pattern?"
"That is so surprising to you after what happened with Stefan?"
"And what's to stop you doing the same to her once she has returned...if she returns...that you did to Andrew? Use her in your ceremonies and sacrifice her for another Black Friday?"
"By the gods, Robert," he answered, his tone frustrated more than anything else, "stop being so fucking obtuse. Before I met Frida, Silke, Dominik and their siblings were the closest thing I had to a family. I watch out for my own. I have no intention of sacrificing her, bleeding her dry, or otherwise abusing her. I love her like a daughter."
As far as I could tell, he was telling the truth, however odd the words sounded coming from his lips, so in the end I shrugged.
"Alright. But it isn't something I can do from here," I replied, "we need to go to the Primal Pattern."
"Why?" he answered, sounding tired and short tempered at another hurdle being put in his way.
"Because that's where I've done this from before," I said, mostly telling the truth, "and she has walked the Primal Pattern..."
"Not recently."
"No, but all of them are linked closely enough that it will work from the most recent time it saw her, so it should be able to rebuild her physical form and memories, once we've been to fetch the soul from the Halls of Waiting...and always presuming she hasn't moved on. Souls do not stay in the Halls forever."
"Why can't you do it at the Wewelsburg Pattern," he asked
"Because I have no intention of putting myself into your power that thoroughly, thank you very much," I retorted, "these are the only circumstances under which I'm going to do this."
"Sobeit," he answered, quietly, and I nodded, slightly surprised at his acquiescence, but not arguing it.
"Then lets go, and quickly. However tempting - and advisable - sleep is right now, if we wait until we've rested she may be gone."
I concentrated on the Pattern and jumped us to the Primal Chamber, drawing energy from the Jewel once more for the transport, as well as to give myself enough of a boost to get through the process I was planning to undertake again, albeit dreading how I would feel as I came down from the power high in the morning. I just wished fishing for souls wasn't so exhausting, although practise makes things easier, and I had done something this specific once before.
"Am I allowed to join you in the Halls?" my brother asked.
"The only living being I know who has been up there is me," I replied, "so I have no idea if you can, any feelings of my own on the subject aside. But if you'd like to take the risk..."
He considered for a moment, and then nodded. It seemed an uncharacteristic risk for him to take, but uncharacteristic seemed to be his watchword today, and at least it would mean he couldn't put a dagger in my heart while I was helpless, although I suspect Anglia would have made short work of him if he'd tried.
"I know her better than you do, Robert," he answered, then added, obviously beginning to feel a little fed up of having to ask the question, "what do I have to do?"
"You need to take astral form - that's the way we will need to travel up there. Then, once we have the soul...if we get the soul...we return to the physical plane. I then walk the Pattern, linked to Silke and hopefully the Pattern will rebuild a body for her, as otherwise she would be completely non-corporeal: effectively we'd be making a ghost, and one who wouldn't be too happy with either of us for dragging her back here."
"It doesn't sound too difficult," if anything, sounding a little blasé.
"Oh, you'd be surprised what could go wrong," I replied, "for example, last time I did this, I at least had the body of the person I was restoring as a template. This time I'm relying on the Pattern remembering her. Although on the bright side, the fact that I treated her after Andreas attacked her means I have encountered her DNA."
"Perhaps I should walk it to re-form her. I know her far better than you do."
"It wouldn't work. Her spirit will be bound to me until such time as it has a vessel to return to."
"You have an answer for everything, Mein Bruder," he commented, obviously dissatisfied.
"And so he should have when you are here, Dark One," came a rumbling voice, as Anglia padded out of the Shadows, stepping neatly between myself and my brother, and adding hopefully, "Robert, my offer from last time you brought him here still stands."
Rupert's face fell, and he sighed loudly, muttering under his breath "Outstanding."
I chuckled, which didn't help my brother's general demeanour, then turned back to Anglia.
"I'm sure he'll be fine. I'm doing something for him, and he'd be a fool to do anything to interfere," I answered, "however, if I'm wrong...then feel free to rip his throat out."
"As you wish," he answered, and I could tell that he was almost wishing he could have the opportunity. Hopefully, though, he wouldn't do anything rash.
I sat myself down on the floor, near the beginning of the Pattern, and gestured for my brother to do the same. I noted with amusement that Anglia then lay down beside us, stretched out to his full and considerable size, jaws within easy reach of my brother.
"You may even be able to help," I commented to him, "you remember many years ago, what I did for my son?"
"You un-passed him."
"Indeed. And I need to do the same again. This time for a...friend of my brother's here. Perhaps you can seek inside yourself to find her pattern."
"Who is she?"
"Her name is Silke, and she is one of the few who has walked all the Patterns. Indeed, she is the only woman who has, besides Emily and Alison. If you can identify her within you, then it will make stage two of this much easier."
He pondered a moment, head resting on his paws while he thought, and then turned his huge golden eyes towards us and regarded us.
"She is the Dark One's creature. Why would you want her to return?"
"That is a very long story. But will you do it?"
He glanced at Rupert, made a great show of licking his lips, and then rumbled his agreement.
"I will do what I can."
"Thank you. And now..." I turned by to my brother who obviously wanted this to be over. I suspect he trusted the panther not at all "go into trance, and we astrally project."
"At last," he said, and did as I had bid. I followed his lead, and soon our astral forms were heading towards the Halls of Waiting. Rupert's form surprised me, though. I had imagined some kind of Norse knight, black armour emblazoned with runes, or perhaps that his astral body would be clad in some stylised version of his SS uniform, but instead he was dressed as I had first seen him in Argent: in simple black trousers and a grey shirt. The only difference was that the astral equivalent of the battle axe in his office at Panenske Brezany was over his back.
It was also noticeable that his appearance was also a lot closer to mine than normal, more like the version of myself I had seen the night Brand first showed me my Counterpart and asked me if I could live with him. It made me wonder if deep down, this was truly what my brother looked like, and whether the face he wore every day was in part a mask to stress independence from me. I also noted with interest that the scar on my brother's cheek, from Andrew's blade, was also reflected in his astral features, as if it really had scarred his soul.
To my own surprise, I had manifested slightly differently to normal. Often I either seem much younger, and am dressed in the white robes of a postulant knight, or I am more my current age, wearing the sapphire robes of the tradition I share with Adam, depending on my purpose on the Astral Plane. But this time, like my brother, I looked much as I had the first time we had met. The universe really did have a strange sense of humour. And below us, stretching back to earth, I could see the twin silver strands of our lifelines, although I was slightly alarmed to see that they almost seemed intertwined at places.
I pulled myself out of my reverie and guided us towards where I knew the Halls of Waiting to be. We approached the area in front of the doors, and I thought myself to ground. At least it wasn't as busy here as it had been the last time I had visited. I approached the door, Rupert beside me, and gestured to gain entrance. However, unusually there seemed to be a pause before they eventually swung open. Once it did, though, it seemed as usual, and we were looking at the humanoid bundles of light waiting for Judgement. There seemed more of them than sometimes, albeit not as many as after the Murray wave, so obviously Rupert hadn't brought all of those he had lost back from the brink.
"Is something wrong?" my brother whispered, sounding...awed, if anything, at what he was seeing.
"I'm not sure," I replied, "I don't normally come here with company."
I stepped over the threshold, my brother beside me, and almost immediately we were surrounded by Clerks. Unusually, they seemed wary, and I saw a messenger sent deeper into the Halls from the door. A short while later we were joined by Athanasius, the Chief Clerk, who bowed before me.
"My Lord."
Rupert said nothing, but I saw him raise an eyebrow in surprise. I had no intention of explaining things.
"My Lord, why do you bring the Dark One with you?"
"He has lost one dear to him, and I have offered to help with her restoration."
"But his wife...she is well. She is not due here for many years to come..."
"Not my wife, but one I think of as a daughter," Rupert interrupted, meeting Athanasius's gaze, "her name is Silke von Halle."
"Dark One, she may have been Silke von Halle in life, but there is no guarantee that she maintains that identity here."
"Nevertheless, will you let us look for her?" I asked him.
"You may look, Lord. The Dark One may not enter any further. He has no right to be here. His soul will never come here. He may not pass. None but you may see the fates within."
I looked at Rupert and saw resignation on his face.
"Go, Robert. Find her. I will...wait."
"I'll try not to be too long."
With that, I headed inside, Athanasius falling into step beside me.
"I hope he won't harm them," I commented, referring to the Clerks.
"He would find any attempt to do so...unpleasant," came the reply, "you are the Keeper of Souls, Lord. You are allowed to be here. His position is precarious."
I didn't even want to think about what he meant, although I suspected that if my brother decided to cause trouble, the Clerks would be quite capable of cutting his lifeline, and while he would probably take some of them with him, if his astral form had the same facility with that axe as his physical one, there was only one of him and many of them.
"Lord, the one you seek is this way," he commented, quietly gestured off in a certain direction.
"You can tell so easily?"
"There is a flavour to certain souls. Ones we have only seen very few of since we began our service in the Halls. And yet today, two of them have come to us. One man. One woman. The Dark One indicated that the one he sought was a woman. Therefore, yes, I know which soul he wants."
"So. 'She may have been Silke von Halle in life, but there is no guarantee that she maintains that identity here'..."
To my surprise, he chuckled. "Why let him think he knows everything? He is merely the Dark One."
"Indeed," I answered, with a smile, "Lead on."
"Of course, Lord."
He led me towards an area of the Halls where I don't believe I had ever been before, and what was noticeable to me was that as we entered that particular area, many of the souls waiting for passage were...tainted for want of a better description, albeit some were 'older' than others. And over to one side, about to be gathered by one of the Clerks were a pair which were exceedingly distinctive. One was roughly male formed, although it seemed black and twisted, as if it had been burned in a fire, and even from this distance the miasma of old sins was apparent radiating from it. The very feel of it made me queasy: which is no mean feat in astral form.
The other was still recognisably Silke von Halle and she looked mad as Hell. I could see that her soul shared some of the taint of her companion, but she was nothing like as far gone. But then, she had been a full Black Knight for less than two years, whereas Hartwin - I assumed it was Hartwin - had held the rank since before Black Friday, if Andrew was to be believed. And in that I had no reason doubt him on that particular subject.
Unlike the previous time when I had come here, and the soul I had sought had seemed tired and ready to move on, she most obviously wasn't, and as we approached her, what passed for her eyes met mine. I didn't even need to bring her into focus. She did that herself as she saw me, and behind her eyes I could see that her memories were still keen, as if she was fighting to keep them, rather than being willing to let them, and herself fade. Her form of address caught me off guard.
"Grandfather?"
Athanasius seemed a little surprised as well, but he covered it quickly.
"I will leave you, My Lord. When you are ready to leave, have one of the Clerks call me, and I will escort you back to where the Dark One is waiting."
"Thank you, Athanasius," I replied, and he retreated, leaving me with Silke and way closer to the former Johan Hartwin than I would have liked. Strangely, I got the impression that she felt similarly, and without a word, we moved away. I could feel him regarding me balefully as we did.
"Why are you here, grandfather?" she asked, quietly.
"I'm seeking you."
"Why would you care?"
"I'm doing a favour for your boss," I replied.
"You came here for me, on the Master's behalf?"
I shrugged. "Go figure."
"Then I thank you. But surely nothing can be done..."
"If you're willing to trust me, I can bring you home."
"Me...trust you..." she replied, quietly, "and yet, I feel that perhaps I can. Faith in you was one of the last things I remember before everything went black."
I looked at her, surprised.
"I was not alone, grandfather. The vampire was there, but he dissipated into the maelstrom. However, as he did, I felt his trust that you would look for him. And his love for a woman I did not know."
I thought about asking which vampire, but I realised I didn't need to. I also knew that there was no point looking for him in the Halls. Later, I would have time to investigate what she had said...and allow for the possibility that I would be mourning a friend...but for now I put that aside to concentrate on the job at hand.
"What must I do?" she asked.
"Come with me," I replied.
"I'm not sure I can..."
"That's why I'm here to guide you," I answered, and I made contact with her shade, reinforcing it by separating a part of my lifeline and binding it around her. She 'watched' in obvious fascination.
Then I started moving in the direction I thought the door was, only to see the spirit that had been Hartwin break away from where it had been waiting, with a howl of rage. I threw up a shield, calling on the powers of Light as I did so, and as the shade slammed into it, there were sparks and it was pushed back. I could feel power going out of me in a way I hadn't experienced before, and hoped to Heaven that I wasn't compromising myself by doing it. Then, before it could renew its attack, Clerks had appeared seemingly out of nowhere, and it was restrained in what looked like a net of light. But the attack had left me shaking and nauseous. It's rare I ever come into contact with something that blatantly evil. Even Rupert seems positively good by comparison.
"My apologies, My Lord," said Athanasius, moving into position beside me, "that one knows where it is bound, and it does not wish to go there. Are you alright?"
"I will be," I answered, centring and getting a grip on myself. Then I glanced at the shade under my protection, and noticed that where the shavings of my life cord had touched the taint in her soul, it seemed diluted. Was it because I had called on the Light to defend us from Hartwin?
"Is that what will happen to me?" she asked, quietly, looking with abject horror as what had been Hartwin was dragged away screaming in fury by the Clerks.
"We must not say," Athanasius answered looking at her, compassion in his eyes, "it is not our place."
"But I'd imagine the possibility is there," I commented, mildly, and I could feel her disgust.
"I should show you to the doorway, My Lord," Athanasius said, tactfully, and I fell into step as he led the way.
My brother was waiting anxiously, and I saw his face lighten as I came into view...although I imagine it was because he recognised the shade with me, rather than because he was pleased to see me.
"M...Master," she said, almost shyly.
"Silke," he replied, gently, then looked at me.
"You have found her...what of Johan?"
"He is too far gone," I answered, my tone level, "and even were he not, I agreed to save my kin, not your archivist. We should leave."
Strangely, he didn't argue.
I turned to the Chief Clerk and thanked him for his assistance, and then we stepped outside and the doors swung silently closed behind us. Then I gathered Silke's form to me, and we began the descent to where our corporeal bodies were waiting. Once there, we snapped back inside them, although I consciously maintained the cord which was supporting my granddaughter, and we came back to consciousness. Thankfully, we were both in one piece - Anglia had decided not to snack on Rupert in our absence - and got to our feet.
"What happens now?" my brother asked.
"I walk, and hopefully Anglia here will do the rest. You, stay here."
"As you wish," came the response, although he sounded resentful and resigned at being left out again. I led Silke to the start of the Pattern and began to walk gently, pushing her in front of me while leaving part of my mind concentrating on the silver strands of life that were keeping her together.
I walked the familiar Sign, watching out for potential trouble, but her desire to live burned surprisingly strongly, and I found that unlike before, I did not need to reinforce the life force I was offering her. She was trying to do that herself. In the centre, a body formed as we walked, and I could feel her striving to reach it. Her strength of will was impressive, and I also found myself experiencing her memories as we moved towards the centre.
Her birth. Growing up Lebensborn, and fighting to be treated equal to the boys of her class, especially against one in particular - one she identified as Rudolf Lange. Studying at university - Anthropology - before joining the Waffen-SS and going to their mage college. A desire to study and return to more academic pursuits. Her transfer to the Ahnenerbe and Rupert's gentle but persistent campaign to bring her to his way of thinking, initiating her into the ways of the occult, and her assistance at devising the rituals for Wewelsburg. A man she truly loved but lost to death - the final key that locked her into my brother's net.
Her appointment some years later as head of the Ahnenerbe. Her welcome into the Order of the Knights of the SS, initially as a Companion. Her feelings for Dominik Gerlinde, initially as a potential lover and then much later, on learning their sibling relationship, the way that changed to more sisterly feelings. And as we pierced the final Veil, I saw in perfect recall, the details of the night she was truly initiated as a Black Knight, and the life she took to bind her to Rupert's innermost group. I had never known the particular mechanism he used, and there it was, clear as day, burned into my own memories. And yet, I thought I felt disgust at her own actions through the link we shared, and wondered if perhaps there was hope for her.
As we took the last few steps, her final memories were of a Shadow I didn't recognise, and an Ahnenerbe dig, although given that she couldn't possibly have walked a Pattern between those events and now, unless she'd somehow linked with the Pattern of her mind - she was good enough with the Pattern to do that - I wondered if she was somehow consciously sharing them with me. Either way, I could see as she realised something was wrong as Francesco materialised before her, and they began a duel arcane, during which she had, indeed, called on the Sign of Order. Then a huge explosion which rent that world. Her soul was stripped from her body as she failed to get away in time, but as she died, I could feel her make arcane contact with my friend, and see his utmost faith that whatever had just happened, I would somehow find a way to fix it. Then he assumed mist form and was blown away by the maelstrom. I couldn't help wondering if that would count as the True Death, although technically his spine wouldn't have been broken: I would have to check with Roger, or possibly Rebecca von Kleist.
Then I was back in the Pattern room and stepping into the centre of the Sign. The shade I was escorting seemed almost solid, and the body lying at the centre was more insubstantial than I had expected. However, as she recognised what it was, she seemed keen to be united with it. I carefully unwound the links to me and helped her project into the form on the ground, and as we did, the very act of doing so seemed to make it become more substantial. Then I shaved off a few last threads of my own being and wove them into hers, and after a few minutes she coughed and began to breathe.
She opened her eyes, although she didn't seem too startled to see me, and I offered her my hand. She took it, and then I helped her to her feet. Then, very much to my surprise, she embraced me.
"Thank you, grandfather."
"You should thank your Reichsführer, Silke. He was the driving force."
"But you were the one who did the work," she said, quietly. She gave me a quick kiss on the cheek and released her hold, and then we jumped back to where Rupert was waiting, Anglia a little behind him, watchful. My brother didn't look entirely pleased - although I don't think he could have heard what she had said - but as we arrived beside him, his expression lightened, and he did seem genuinely happy to see her. She snapped a sharp salute, and then moved to stand beside him.
"Robert, you look exhausted," he commented.
"You don't look so great yourself, brother," I answered, "but, you still owe me an explanation."
"I do. We should leave here, however. I'm a little tired of the bloody panther breathing down my neck."
I crossed to Anglia, crouched down in front of him, my hand ruffling the fur at his neck, and thanked him for his help. In reply, he rumbled a last purr, then put his weight back on his haunches and leapt over my head, disappearing just before his teeth would have made contact with Rupert's back. Then I stood and crossed to my brother and Silke, touched them, and jumped us upstairs to Millbank library.
We arrived in the library, and outside I could see the brilliant sunshine of a July day. I suppose we probably had been working long enough for the sun to have risen while we were busy, and Terra Magica is currently synced to Sable time.
"What is this place?" Silke asked, looking around, her eyes caught be the shelves of books.
"Millbank Manor," Rupert answered, "where Robert and I were born."
I thought he was possibly stretching a point as far as he was concerned, but I guess, after a fashion, it was accurate.
"Silke, why don't you take a look around the house and grounds. My brother and I need to speak."
"Of course, Master," she answered, and with a salute, headed out through the French doors into the gardens. Obviously Rupert's people were well versed in spotting when they'd been dismissed.
"She seems different," he commented, once she was out of sight.
"So would you be if you'd just been rebuilt body and soul," I replied, as I poured us both a large glass of The MacAllan, and handed one to him.
"I suppose time will tell if you've irrevocably corrupted her to the side of the Light," he answered, taking his glass.
"I probably wouldn't quite put it that way," I answered, "know this, though. If you do harm her in the way you used Andrew, I will know. Because I'll be keeping a careful eye on her."
"We've already discussed that, Robert," he answered, "and you've had my answer. It hasn't changed."
I shrugged, not sure whether to believe him, and then gestured for him to sit. For my part, it was all I could do not to fall asleep there and then, but I needed to hear my brother's explanation. I needed to know just what Andrew and Gray had cooked up, and whether it had led directly or indirectly to the mess we had just sorted out.
Rupert savoured the aroma of the whisky for a few moments, before taking a mouthful and then placing it on the table beside him.
"You promised me an explanation," I said, finally.
"And you shall have it," he replied, and he sat back and began to talk.
"The Shadow's name was Rensburg, and as a world, it dated from before the Inside existed. From when Sable was part of the Rest of Creation, and had collected other worlds to itself while its own Shadows were coming into existence. And while it was out there, a spaceship crashed there and damaged the fabric of that place. When you formed the Inside and brought it here, the world partly fractured. It became five smaller but connected Shadows, forming their own Royal Ways, and co-existing peacefully to the mutual benefit of all. The total population of those worlds was a little over three hundred and thirty million souls, albeit that only about nine million lived on Rensburg itself. Every single one of them died in the conflagration we fought to control, along with countless others from the worlds surrounding it, and I felt it happen."
"Not that it's perhaps any consolation, but I can sympathise with you," I said, quietly, "I know what that is like. It happened to me when Murray was hit by the wave and I knew that however hard I fought, I wasn't going to be able to stop it. But what I don't know, is what actually happened."
"I'm getting there," he answered, too tired to be argumentative about it, "I first became consciously aware of Rensburg and its brother Shadows about five years ago. Obviously, I knew they existed, but it wasn't until then that I realised how unusual their configuration was. So I asked Silke von Halle to put together an Ahnenerbe investigative team, to see what they could find. Of course, it wasn't a priority - merely curiosity - so fewer resources were put into it than into some of their other projects. Nevertheless, those worlds were slowly and methodically investigated, and about four months ago, the team identified the area of the Shadow which seemed to be the key to the configuration. However, there was nothing obvious on the surface at that location, even though their divinations had led to that specific spot, so an archaeological team was dispatched to start digging."
He paused, took another drink, and then continued.
"Progress seemed to be slow - the weather there was atrocious for that kind of work - so I asked Johan Hartwin to take over administering the dig, and with his guidance and encouragement, they began to unearth the ship. He gave me regular reports, and indicated that he was certain they were on the right track, as there seemed to be strange energies around the area. Then Johan was injured in a site accident and work stopped, and shortly afterwards, he began behaving somewhat irrationally. The concerns of Thomas Sievers, his second in command, finally reached me a couple of days ago, and I was in the process of sending an agent to investigate the problem - less easy than it was now young von Klieburg is assigned elsewhere - when I heard that the dig had been attacked, and Hartwin had been taken prisoner."
I listened in silence, occasionally sipping my whisky and waiting for him to continue.
"At that point, I decided it was time to take a personal interest. After all, I wasn't immediately certain if he had been taken because of what they had found, or for the reason that he was one of my Knights. Knowing your people, especially Graham and the Butcher, either option was equally possible. So Silke and myself went to Rensburg with reinforcements. And what did I find there, but a detachment of your White Guard, brother."
"You must be mistaken. White Guard wouldn't be used for an attack like that."
"Whether or not they were involved in the initial attack to seize an item of potential arcane value, the White Guard would most certainly be involved in securing afterwards. It is, after all, Sable's modus operandi to send them into such situations when you obtain an objective you think I personally might be interested in. And that is what the dig had found."
I considered the implications of this. The chain of command for the White Guard is exceedingly short: Lieutenant-General Simon Blake, its regimental commander; Gray; and me. And I knew I hadn't given that particular order. And on the back of an attack against a Black Knight...
"Naturally, my forces dispatched this incursion into our territory," my brother continued, his tone frighteningly cold for a moment, "and then I took a good look at the place, to try to get to the bottom of things myself, as my subordinates seemed to be having limited success. I undertook a magical investigation of the area - as you know, I have equal facility in such things to yourself - and discovered two things. First, Hartwin had been taken by a group of your agents...primarily, your Lord Protector, brother."
"Will was there?" I asked, incredulous. Will doesn't normally get involved in Andrew's and Gray's private plots: he's usually too busy elsewhere, and I'd say he was too sensible to go off half-cocked the way Andrew can under certain circumstances.
"He was the one who ultimately took Hartwin down. In addition, I recognised Commander Bond, as well as Major Blake - a close relation of the commander of the White Guard, I believe - and a young man of my knowledge named Johann Weissman.
And second...the bit that scared the Hell out of me...was that I identified the origin of the ship. Shadows, Robert. Remember them?"
"There was a Shadow ship Inside?"
"I thought that might get your attention. Yes. It wasn't of a configuration I was familiar with, which is why I didn't immediately recognise it for what it was, but once I investigated more thoroughly, everything about its physical composition, bio-control systems, etc confirmed my initial opinion. I left Silke in charge of the dig so that I could make preparations to neutralise and destroy the bloody thing safely. However, I didn't get back in time: Rudolf Lange brought something to my attention which needed immediate action, and by the time I had dealt with it, Rensburg was going to Hell in a hand basket and Silke was dead. Which is when I called you."
"You honestly want me to believe that you wouldn't have tried to use the technology in that ship for your own purposes? I know during the war you felt you were lagging behind on such things, especially with Sable's Torch class ships in the game."
"Brother," he answered, coldly, "you were there at the final fight in the Amazon. I bled to stop the ancient enemy gaining ascendancy. Do you truly think I would want to unleash anything to do with it here Inside?"
I looked him in the eyes as he spoke, and realised that even if he had never done it in his life before, there and then he was utterly serious and telling me the complete truth.
"Oh Christ," I said, quietly, draining my glass and watching as he did the same.
"This is the point where I begin speculating," he continued, as I poured us both a refill, "going from my guesses of relative time flows between Rensburg and Nevers. You know of Nevers, don't you, Robert?"
"It was mentioned recently, yes," I replied, trying not to let any of the turmoil I was feeling show in my face.
"Shortly after Hartwin was captured, an operation we were conducting on Nevers was broken. Their supplies were seized and all personnel were killed or captured. I was dealing with the fallout of that when Rensburg was destroyed. And reports from Nevers were that some of the same agents I identified as having been present at the dig site had been seen on Nevers, both before and after Hartwin was taken. My belief is that they took the explosives they had seized on Nevers, and then decided to destroy the find on Rensburg, in some misguided attempt to deny it to us."
"But straight explosives couldn't have caused the damage we just had to deal with," I pointed out.
"I accept that. The trouble was, they didn't take into account what they were blowing up, or even ask for assistance with identification: what the ship actually was, and what would happen when its power source, being completely alien to the Sable Universe, was destroyed. And as that ship was the centre of the instability, once energies not native to the Inside interacted with it, the result was utter destruction on multiple planes.
Congratulate them next time you see them, Robert. They've managed to kill more people in one fell swoop than Andrew has managed in eighty years of trying. And many of those people were just innocent civilians who had the misfortune to be on a world in my sphere of Shadow. Hell, given we were repairing damage in the sky and sea realms, they weren't even all mine."
"Can you prove it?" I asked, quietly, but deep down inside, I knew he had to be right. Because Francesco had been on Rensburg when it died.
I knew that from my granddaughter's memories. And while I couldn't believe my friend would have been involved in any form of intentional murder on the scale Rupert was suggesting, I couldn't deny that he had accompanied Bond, Blake and the others on missions in the past, often at Gray's behest. In addition, he also had a track record of going after the biggest threat, to give those he was working with cover and time to complete their mission. And the biggest threat on Rensburg, in his eyes, would have been Silke von Halle.
"I don't need to," he replied, his tone level, "you know I'm telling the truth. I can feel it. The one I'm surprised at is your Lord Protector. I would have expected him to know better. Andrew, yes, William...I'd say this wasn't his style. If nothing else, he is an honourable opponent."
"Assuming all of those who were on Rensburg initially, returned later," I countered, "while I can see Will agreeing to assist in capturing someone like Hartwin, he wouldn't be personally involved in a cleanup operation like the one on Nevers. Sure, he might order one, but then he'd leave his people to it, so that he can concentrate on the bigger picture. After all, the bigger picture is his job, not the micro details."
"Will you grant me the courtesy of letting me ask him?"
"Why should I?" I replied, trying to keep my tone neutral.
"It's natural to wish to know who to blame for a crime of this magnitude."
"A crime implies it was intentional," I argued, "I don't see how this can have been...and in fairness, even you have accepted that this was a tragic accident, rather than anything else."
"Why do you assume that?"
"Because you know that the people who were there couldn't have done this on purpose."
"Unless William was one of them..."
"Or Silke...she could equally have screwed up," I replied, but the comment was more Devil's Advocate than anything else, as I knew from her memories that she had had nothing to do it.
"Please, Robert," he asked, quietly, his tone conciliatory, and eventually I shrugged.
"Okay."
I brought Will's Trump to mind and gave him a call.
"Yes?"
"Will?"
"Hey, Dad." he answered, and then his light tone became more serious as the link focused, "shit, you look like Hell."
"Thanks," I answered, levelly, and offered him my hand, "join me."
"Sure. I need to talk to you about something anyway," he replied, and stepped through. "Millbank?" he said, glanced around, and then he saw my brother, "Reichsführer Delatz?"
He looked back at me, his expression serious and his stance suddenly tense. "I had a feeling you two were getting too cosy. What's going on?"
"I want you to answer a question for me, Lord Protector," Rupert answered.
"I don't believe I have to say anything to you, Herr Reichsführer," he replied, although his tone was at least more respectful than Andrew's would have been under the same circumstances.
"I would consider it a favour if you would do as I ask," my brother replied.
Will glanced at me, obviously surprised, a trace of suspicion in his green eyes, but I nodded, giving him the go-ahead, and after a moment's thought he turned back to Rupert and shrugged.
"Okay. Ask your question. I will answer as long it doesn't harm Sable to do so."
"Fair," came the reply, "it is this. Were you involved in the destruction of Rensburg?"
He looked genuinely surprised and shocked at the news, which came as a huge relief to me, and he shook his head.
"I have no idea what you're talking about."
"Do you deny you were there a little earlier?"
"The name doesn't ring a bell."
"Temperate rainforest. Ahnenerbe dig. Johan Hartwin," I supplied, quietly.
"Oh, that place," he replied, "yes, I was there."
"Why?" Rupert pressed.
"I'd say that's none of your damned business. But out of courtesy to my father...I was asked to assist in securing a prisoner."
"Did you set up the Rensburg operation?"
"I did not," came his reply.
"But those you assisted were there for Johan Hartwin?"
"They were. I helped them when asked, on the theory that if we actually wanted to learn anything from the prisoner, which seemed sensible, given that he was Reichsarchivist, there was no point handing him straight to big bro."
"Will," I asked, "did you know that Hartwin was dead?"
He shook his head. "He was alive when I handed him over. So unless he was taken out of custody and killed...What's this all about?"
"Rensburg was destroyed this evening. And we believe the group that grabbed Hartwin was responsible."
"I can't see how they can have been," he replied, obviously believing what he said, which I think Rupert also noted, "they wouldn't have had the ability."
"They blew up the vessel which was there," my brother offered.
"Oh the bloody idiots," he cursed, then turned to me, "believe me, Dad, I told them to go nowhere near that thing. It was evil. Hell, just looking at it freaked me out. I asked Gray if he could send some White Guard to keep an eye on it until I could talk to you about it...and this is the first chance I've had."
I glanced at Rupert, who nodded.
"Thank you for your honesty, Lord Protector," he said to my son, "and believe me when I tell you that I am relieved you were not involved in the destruction."
Then he downed the remains of his whisky and got to his feet, and as he did so, I did the same.
"I need to sleep, brother, as do you. So, I shall collect Silke and be gone. However, I trust you will both inform your people that I know who they are and what they have done, even if what happened was an unintended consequence of their actions. Also inform them that they are personae non gratae in the Reich and that if I catch them, their lives are forfeit. No trial. No niceties. They will be executed as criminals."
"I will tell them," I answered, although Will remained silent, obviously uncertain what to say.
"Until August 1st then, Robert," he said, finally. I felt him bring up a Trump, and Silke arrived a moment or two later. Then he concentrated on the Pattern, and was gone, leaving myself and Will alone in the library.
"Feel like explaining what you and Uncle Rupert were doing sharing a drink together here at the family home?" Will asked, looking at me suspiciously.
"Honestly? No. Not right now. Right now I feel like sleeping. But you have my word that I'll bring you up to speed once I don't feel dead on my feet. I'd like the full mission briefing of what happened on Nevers and with Hartwin, though."
"I expect I can arrange that," he answered, and I saw him cross to the bell pull and once the servant came, he ordered a beer. Then he sat down in the chair I had just vacated, obviously intending to wait right there until I answered his questions.
"I'll see you in a few hours," I said, finally.
"I'll be here," came his answer, and without further ado I transported myself upstairs to get some much needed sleep.