Deathstalker 05 - Deathstalker Destiny

steady as he held the platter out to the Cardinal. Brendan took the cord and wrapped it loosely around their wrists, symbolically binding them together. Crow Jane of the Elves stepped forward then, cold and magisterial as the occasion demanded, to probe the minds of the bride and groom, as tradition demanded, and declare that both were exactly who they claimed to be. There was only the slightest pause as she did this, but to Robert it seemed to last forever. He lived again the terrible events that followed this part of the ceremony at his first wedding. For a moment he thought he might faint. The Unknown Clone saw him sway slightly on his feet, and grabbed Robert firmly but surreptitiously by the arm, steadying him.
    But all went well. Crow Jane proclaimed their true identities in a ringing voice, and Robert's quiet sigh of relief went unnoticed as the Cardinal raised his voice to declare them now man and wife. Robert kissed his bride, remembering at the very last moment to lift her veil first, and the whole audience cheered, in the House and across the Empire. Flynn was right there with his camera,
    getting it all. Two Members of Parliament, chosen strictly by lot, came forward with the two newly made crowns; simple golden frames encrusted with the Empire's most precious and radiant stones. Robert and Constance knelt before them, and were crowned at the hands of the people. The two crowns were lowered onto their head simultaneously, to demonstrate King and Queen were equal in power and status. The two constitutional monarchs rose to their feet, and smiled out over the people, and everyone cheered again, and again and again, as though they might never stop.

    Afterward the wedding banquet was a loud, noisy, and altogether more relaxed affair. There was no room for seats, so everyone just grabbed a plate and some cutlery, and provided for themselves. Robert and Constance made the rounds, smiling and shaking hands, and making sure everyone had enough to eat. There was the traditional cake, twelve tiers high, and enough champagne to float a medium-sized ship, and an apparently endless buffet table almost collapsing under the weight of delicacies from a hundred worlds. It took a while for Robert and Constance to get anywhere; everyone wanted to pay their compliments to the new King and Queen, and to be seen doing it on holo. Politics never takes a holiday. But still it was a time of happy chatter and loud laughter, with good humor and good fellowship for all.
    Or very nearly. Kit SummerIsle had been quietly following the Royal couple on their rounds, at a discreet distance, when he spotted a familiar but unexpected face in the crowd. He paused just long enough to be sure that Crow Jane and the Unknown Clone were watching over the King and Queen, and then he moved quietly through the press of bodies to intercept his chosen target. The man had a new name and title now, as Sir Sleyton du Bois, but that wasn't how Kit knew him.
    Sir Sleyton had once been the Steward of David Deathstalker's Standing on Virimonde. The Steward had been sworn to David's service, but instead had betrayed his master to the Lord High Dram's forces when they invaded Virimonde.
    Because of the Steward's betrayal, the castle Standing had fallen, and David died in Kit's arms. Kit had never forgotten that.
    He'd lost track of the Steward during the upheavals of the last days of the rebellion, but he never gave up the search. Eventually he discovered that Lionstone had rewarded the Steward with a new name and a minor title, but Kit was patient. He'd known a social climber like the Steward would be unable to miss the Royal wedding. And sure enough, here he was, bold as brass. The SummerIsle came to a sudden halt in front of the ex-Steward, and took a certain cold satisfaction in watching all the color drain out of the man's face.
    "Ah, Steward," he said calmly. "So good to see you again, after all this time."
    "You can't touch me," said Sir Sleyton du Bois. "I have a new life now.
    Aristocratic friends. Influence. Protection…"
    "I know who and what you are," said Kit SummerIsle. "I am now Warrior Prime to the Empire, charged by the King himself with hunting down and dealing with traitors. Come with me, traitor."
    He dropped an apparently friendly hand onto Sir Sleyton's shoulder, and his fingers dug harshly into an exposed nerve there. The ex-Steward grimaced, but made no move to resist as the SummerIsle steered him through the crowds and into the