Deathstalker 01 - Deathstalker

my expense, but not one of them would agree to support me in trying to get my niece back, no matter how I pleaded. They don't know how special to me she was, just like you, Evangeline. But I'll get her back somehow, and have my revenge on those who refused me."
    And as quickly as that, the clouds left his pudgy face, and he let go of her arm. It throbbed dully, aching from the fierce grip, but she didn't dare rub at it. It wasn't wise to distract him when he was in one of his good moods.
    "Still," he said, beaming widely, "I expect great things of this wedding. Dear Letitia makes a lovely bride, and Robert Campbell is supposed to be a fine, upstanding young man. I've never had much time for the Campbells, any of them, but it must be said they have good connections with interesting and important people. And with our two Houses united by this marriage, those connections should drop right into my lap. In return, all we have to do is watch their backs, and protect them from unexpected attacks, while they jockey for position over the mass-production contracts for the new stardrive. Some of whose revenues will undoubtedly end up flowing in my direction. Things are looking up,
    Evangeline. Soon I'll be able to give you all the splendid presents I always wanted to. You've been very patient with me, listening to all my promises and never complaining, but once our ship comes in, you shall want for nothing, my dear, nothing at all. And all I ask in return is that you love me. Is that so much to ask?"
    "No, Father."
    "Is it?"
    "No, Father," said Evangeline steadily. "You know I honor you as my father and show you all duty. My heart belongs to you."
    Gregor Shreck smiled at her fondly. "You look more like your dear mother every day."
    Evangeline was still trying to come up with a safe and neutral answer to that one when they were joined by James Kassar, the Vicar of the Church of Christ the Warrior. Tall and muscular and positively radiating physical superiority, the vicar looked very smart in his jet-black military surplice, and didn't he know it. The Empress had given the Church her official support when she ascended to the Iron Throne, and the Church in return supported her with all its vast political power. It had followers throughout the Empire and was now the nearest thing the Empire had to an official Church. It named her Warden of the Stations of the Cross, Soldier of All Souls, and Defender of the Faith, and put its military training schools at her disposal. In practice, this meant the Church of Christ the Warrior had supplanted all other religions, in public at least, and its influence reached everywhere. The Empress excused the Church all taxes, allowed it to tithe its people as it wished, and used its Jesuit elite commandos to stamp out traitors in her name. So no one argued with the Church much. Not in public.

    James Kassar was a rising name in the Church. He distinguished himself as a marine for several years, stamping out the Empire's enemies with unyielding determination, whatever the cost. He rose rapidly to major, and then heard the call and transferred to the Church, where he turned his zeal to locating and persecuting all those who opposed the one true Church. And if in his enthusiasm he sometimes strayed outside the law, or wiped out a few innocent bystanders along with the true targets, well, you can't make omelets, and all that. He was a rising star, so no one said anything.
    Or at least, no one who mattered. It was a great honor for the Campbells and the Shrecks that he had agreed to officiate at this wedding, and he made sure everyone knew it. Lord Gregor bowed courteously to him, and Evangeline bobbed a curtsey.
    "Good of you to honor us with your presence, Your Grace," said Gregor smoothly.
    I trust all is to your satisfaction?"
    "Then you trust wrong," said the Vicar sharply. "Never seen so many degenerates and parasites in one room before. A spell in the Services would put some backbone into them. Doubt half of them have seen the inside of a Church since they were christened. Or could recite the catechism of the Warrior, if pressed.
    But as long as the aristocracy still cuddles up to the Empress, long may she reign, they can afford to cock a snook at the Church. But that won't last forever."
    "Quite," said the Shreck. "May I offer you a glass of something?"
    "Never touch the stuff. The body is a temple and not to be defiled with noxious substances. I assume all the details for this wedding have been