Deathstalker 03 - Deathstalker War

all directions, cared for by peasants who had done so for countless generations. They knew what they were doing; they didn't need any help or advice from their most recent Lord, any more than the animals did. They both knew their place and purpose in the Empire. Elsewhere in his demesne, other peasants were harvesting crops, tending to the land, preparing the landing pads at the only starport for the next ships to arrive. The transports brought in supplies for the people, and carried away crops and meat. Virimonde had been a food planet to the Empire for as long as records had been kept, supplying poor and rich alike with the staples of diet, and the occasional luxury. Nine-tenths of the planet was given over to food production of one kind or another, and the people who lived there would have it no other way. Virimonde might not have the upsets and excitements and glittering cities of other, richer planets, but still it was a calm and peaceful world, where a man could know purpose, the comforts of tradition, and joy of service to Humanity.
    They also made the Lord of Virimonde very, very rich. People might argue over territory and war over politics, but both sides still needed to eat, and Virimonde served all impartially. David Deathstalker looked down on his world, and was content. Billions upon billions of credit on the hoof, and all of it his. More money than he could spend in a lifetime. Though that wouldn't stop him trying.
    Kit moved in close behind him, playfully bumping the side of his flyer against David's, so that they both wobbled dangerously for a moment. "You've got that look on your face again, Deathstalker. That Lord of all I survey look. Soon you'll be busy all day reading reports and worrying over crop yields and export
    tariffs, with no time for the likes of me. A man old before his time."
    "Never!" said David cheerfully. "I employ other people to worry about such things for me. People like the Steward, bless his dour and dutiful heart. The man's about as much fun as a hailstorm in July, and he gets on my nerves something fierce, but he knows his job. And as long as he does, I don't have to.
    I just sign everything he puts in front of me, read every tenth one just to keep him honest, and leave it all to him. If I'd wanted to work hard, I wouldn't have been born an aristocrat. No, Kit, this place is one big cash cow, making me richer with every day that passes, and all I have to do is sit back and let it happen."
    "But what use are riches if you've nothing to spend them on?" countered Kit.
    "The few big cities they've got here aren't exactly dens of iniquity and vice, are they? Their idea of excitement is cheating in the horse trials. Just what are you planning to do with all these fields and forests?"
    "Enjoy them," said David. "Come on, Kit, we tried practically every amusement you could find on Golgotha, and none of them interested us for more than a few weeks at a time. We've gambled in illegal casinos with our lives wagered on the throw of a die, fought in the Arenas against all comers, rogered our way through the Houses of Joy till our backs gave out, and still we ended up bored, as often as not. That's how we got involved in the rebellion. No, we need time off, Kit.
    Simpler pursuits on a simpler world. I'm tired of civilization. Been there, done that, puked down my shirt and pissed on my boots. I like it here. Nothing to do but eat and drink and grow fat. Booze away the evenings and frolic with lusty peasant girls. Play catch-as-catch-can on flyers for a bit of excitement. I'm having a good time. Aren't you?"

    "Yes," said Kit. "Somewhat to my surprise, I am. And I haven't killed anyone for weeks. Amazing. Mind you, we were supposed to act here as agents for the underground, and we haven't sent in a report since we got here. Do you think we should?"
    "Certainly not," said David firmly. "That comes under the heading of work, which I have given up for Lent, Easter, Christmas, and any other holiday you can think of. A pox on the underground and Lionstone both. Here we are safe from all factions, and their impertinent demands. Whatever happens in the rebellion, no one's going to touch Virimonde. Whoever wins, they'll still need to eat. Though it must be said I quite liked being a rebel, with secret meetings, hidden agendas, and special passwords."
    "Right," said Kit. "I liked the passwords. I liked knowing things other people didn't. But even that got boring after a while. They would take it all