The Time Roads

“Stop!” I said.

He stopped.

My knees felt watery. I placed both hands on his chest to steady myself. Fresh blood trickled over my eyes. More injuries made themselves known to me. Bruises. A myriad of cuts and scrapes, some of them inflicted by Aidrean Ó Deághaidh as he dragged me to safety. From a distance, I heard the muffled boom of a fourth explosion.

“They promised me war,” I whispered. “I should have listened.”

* * *

We met in my private chambers within the hour: I, Lord Ó Duinn, Lord Ó Cadhla, Commander Ábraham of the Queen’s Constabulary, and Lord Ó Breislin. My private physician hovered in the background. I had ordered him away, but he had refused, a measure of his concern. In the end, I allowed him to stay. My ministers might require his services if I could not cure my temper.

I drank down the concoction of opiates and strong coffee that he had prescribed, much against his will. Later, I might submit to his care, but not until I had dealt with this crisis. The opiates eased my throat, raw from the smoke and all the shouting I had not realized I had done.

“Arrest them all,” I said to Commander Ábraham. “The entire delegation.”

“On what charges?” Lord Ó Cadhla’s tone was deceptively mild.

“Treason and murder, of course.”

We had proof enough. Two planes destroyed, their crews torn into bits by the explosions. Another half dozen trampled in the ensuing panic.

(And yet, I remembered four explosions, not two. And Lord Ó Duinn lying dead in the wreckage.)

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A soft knock sounded at the door. Coilín Mac Liam rose from his station and admitted Aidrean Ó Deághaidh into the room.

“Your Majesty,” he said. “I have news to report.”

All my ministers fixed their attention on him as he took a chair, refusing a glass of whiskey and taking instead a tumbler of water. He had changed his clothes, but I caught the whiff of burning ashes about his person.

“What have you found?” I asked.

“A mountain of clues, but nothing conclusive.”

“How, not conclusive?” I said.

He held up hand. “Please, Your Majesty. Let me tell you what I know first. I’ve had but an hour to consult with the Constabulary and Lord Ó Duinn’s people. However, I can say the explosives are similar to those I’ve encountered among certain dissidents in Eastern Europe.”

He spoke with a particular emphasis that caught my attention at once. “Indeed? Then you have found a link between them?”

“Perhaps. Certain factions are known to work with each other. Before we make any assumptions, however, we must search for the motives behind today’s attack. Once we know those, we shall know if such a link exists.”

I leaned back in my chair. “So. Not our own Anglians?”

“Possibly. I cannot reason ahead of my information, Your Majesty.”

“Nor did I ask you to.”

“Not directly,” he said.

I sucked in a breath. All my ministers, including Lord Ó Cadhla, went still in expectation of my forthcoming rant. Ó Deághaidh himself regarded me with a remote expression that cloaked whatever he truly thought. The same he had used in times past, when I first ordered him away from Court to investigate the Awveline murders, when I sent him to Montenegro.

He has never betrayed me. Even though I have betrayed him.

I let the air trickle from my lungs. “So. Give me your advice, Commander. What would you do in this situation?”

All around me the tension eased. Aidrean smiled, but absently, as though he had expected the question. “If I were to suggest anything, Your Majesty, I would advise you to meet with the Anglian delegation once more, and let them know you cannot properly address their concerns at the present. However, invite them to appoint several of their number to remain at Court so you might informally continue the conversation. They cannot refuse you, not without losing their own political advantage. At the same time…”