Deathstalker 05 - Deathstalker Destiny

Robert. "Hell; I even paid for your funeral!"
    "I know," said Finlay. "I was there. Watching, from a safe distance. Nice ceremony, I thought. Not much of a crowd, but more than I deserved. Good of you to take care of things, Robert."
    Robert Campbell shrugged uncomfortably. "We were Family. You'd have done the same for me."
    "Yes," said Finlay. "That's why I'm here, now. It's only right that someone from the old Family should be your best man."
    He put out a hand again, but Robert ignored it, pulling Finlay forward into an embrace.
    "Oh shit," said Adrienne feelingly, as the two men separated and stood back.
    "Does this mean I'm still married to you, you bastard?"
    Finlay grinned. "Probably not. Finlay Campbell is dead and laid to rest in his Family crypt, and I'm just as happy to leave it that way. I have a new life now, without all the… complications from my old one. Let the dead rest in peace. I've only revealed my identity to you so that Robert would know he had proper Family support on his big day." He nodded to Robert. "You've come a long way. Done well. The old Family would have been proud of you."
    "You could come back," said Robert. "Once I'm King, I'm sure I could get you a Pardon for Gregor's murder. And you have far more right to be the Campbell than I ever had."
    "I never wanted it," said Finlay. "Let Finlay Campbell rest in peace. I never liked him much anyway."
    "Finally, we have something in common," said Adrienne, and everyone laughed. "I take it Evangeline knows about this?"
    "Of course. Who do you think arranged for me to become the Unknown Clone?" He hefted the leather mask in his hand. "I seem to have spent most of my life hiding behind one bloody mask or another. One more is no big deal. At least this one stands for something that matters." He grinned at Robert. "You and Constance have lots of kids. We need to rebuild the Clan."
    And then he put his mask back on, and the Unknown Clone bowed once, respectfully, to Robert, before leaving the private room. Robert shook his head slowly, and Adrienne sat back onto her chair.
    "Well," she said heavily. "This is turning out to be quite a day, isn't it? I wonder who else is going to come back from the dead?"
    "Just as long as it isn't Owen Deathstalker," said Robert. "That really would throw the cat among the politicians." He sighed, and then looked at Baxter, who was still staring at the door Finlay had closed behind him. "Is something wrong, Baxter? You seem a little… preoccupied."
    "Oh no, sir. It's just… I never met Finlay Campbell before. I was a great fan of his, when he fought in the Arenas as the Masked Gladiator. I have all the holo documentaries on him, and I know all the statistics of his career by heart. I just wish I could have worked up enough courage to ask for his autograph."
    "I'll ask him later," said Robert. "But you'd better be very quiet about how you got it. I have to say, I was surprised as hell when news of his other identity emerged after his death. I knew him mostly as a clothes horse and grand master of fashion."
    "Finlay as best man," said Adrienne. "Now that really is a contradiction in terms…"
    In yet another private room off the floor of the House, Constance Wolfe sat alone. She'd been surrounded by people all morning, fussing over her dress and flowers and appearance, until their voices blended into one unbearable nag, but eventually they'd done all they could, and she sent them all away. She needed time alone, time to think, and reflect. She sat on a straight-backed chair, perfectly made-up, hair piled on top of her head, wearing the most delightful and expensive wedding dress that anyone had ever seen. Various committees had tried to impose various styles of dress on her, while all the main designers on Golgotha threatened to cut their wrists if she didn't choose them, but Constance had refused the bribes and ignored the pressures and produced her own design.
    She knew what suited her best. And she needed to feel she was in charge of at least some part of the ceremony. She didn't bother looking at the mirror on the wall. She looked very beautiful, and she knew it, but that didn't comfort her.
    She had a lot to think about.
    The room seemed so much larger with only her in it. The blessed quiet was a balm to her nerves, and she was determined to be calm and serene by the time the ceremony finally started. One of the happy couple had to be, and she doubted very much it was going to be Robert. The poor dear was