Deathstalker 01 - Deathstalker

said Owen, beside her. "I wouldn't want to get within ten feet of Ruby Journey without a chair and a whip."
    "Always knew you aristos were into the kinky stuff," said Ruby. "I'd offer you a drink, but I've only got the one bottle."
    "I'll join you," said Hazel. "I could use a drink of something even halfway decent."
    "Ah, yes," said Random. "You always did have a weakness for drink, as I recall."
    Hazel looked at him. "You recall? I wasn't aware we'd met before."
    "It was some time ago, on Mistworld. Someone recognized me and invited me to dinner. And I went because I was hungry. You were working for my host as a ladies' maid. They were short of staff, and they pressed you into service at the dinner table."
    Ruby's head came up, and she looked at Hazel with a slow grin spreading across
    her face. "You were a ladies' maid. Hazel?"
    "How the hell would you remember me?" said Hazel, glaring at Random.
    "I have an excellent memory for faces. Besides, you spilled most of a bottle of rather good port over me. Ruined the last good pair of trousers I had."
    "You were a ladies' maid?" said Ruby.
    Hazel scowled. "I said I was sorry."
    "No, you didn't. You said—
    "Never mind what I said!"
    "You brought it up."
    "You were a ladies' maid?" said Ruby.
    "Sure," said Random. "She looked very pretty in the uniform, too."
    "I'll bet," said Ruby.
    "If any of you tell anyone else, I'll kill you," said Hazel.
    "I believe her," said Owen.
    "Don't worry, sweetie," said Ruby, still grinning. "Your secret is safe with us."
    "There's something I wanted to ask you, Random," said Hazel in the manner of someone determined to change the subject. "Owen and I were talking about some of the campaigns you fought in. You led rebellions that covered entire worlds, commanded whole armies. Even had your own attack fleet, at one time. What I want to know is where did all the money come from? Wars are expensive. Men, supplies, guns. Who funded all those armies and attack ships? I never heard you were independently wealthy. So who paid the bills?"
    "Men of good will," said Jack Random. "Mostly. The rest came from anywhere I could raise it. There were always people around with an interest in seeing authority toppled, or at least challenged. Political groups, persecuted
    religions, businessmen who stood to make a profit from war. Young nobles who couldn't wait to inherit, or who were looking for a little excitement. There were always factions jostling for position within the Empire, ready to sell each other out for a moment's advantage. I learned not to ask too many questions.
    "After all, as I told myself on more than one occasion, lesser evils are better than greater ones. And I could always lead another rebellion against the new people in power, if necessary. There was never any shortage of courageous, idealistic young cannon fodder in those days.
    "Never any shortage of loot, either. I took what I had to in order to do what I had to. And if sometimes I had to deal with scum, or place my trust in men of evil, well, there was already too much blood on my hands for me to ever be innocent again." He smiled at Owen. "You're looking quite shocked, Deathstalker.
    Sorry, I seem to be just one disappointment after another for you, but that's life. My life, anyway. And now, if you'll excuse me, I think I'll take a little walk; limber up the old muscles before we have to go dirtside. Play nicely, now."
    He left the kitchen without looking back. He'd said all he felt like saying. No doubt they'd talk about him while he was gone, but they'd have done that anyway, and he preferred not to be around when they did it. He made himself be patient until he was well out of their way, and then he stopped and produced a battered silver flask from an inner pocket. He unscrewed the cap with steady fingers, raised the flask to his mouth and took a good swallow of the bland, almost tasteless liquid. He might not be able to handle booze anymore, but he'd be no use at all without an occasional jolt of the good stuff. He looked at the silver flask and sighed quietly. There was a time he'd thought battle drugs were just
    for cowards and fools, but time had taught him differently. Sometimes it seemed the only courage he had left came out of that flask. And he did so want to be a legend again, if only for his new friends' sake. They'd been through so much already, and faced so much more. They needed a legend. Jack Random sighed, raised the flask to his mouth, and then lowered it again