Deathstalker 06 - Deathstalker Legacy

almost in shock, and then shut down his screen. Tim had given up on him. His oldest, truest fan. Lewis hadn't thought it would be possible to feel more alone, more isolated and abandoned; but in this as in so many other things, he had been wrong. He got up and slowly walked back to his chair. His legs were unsteady, and he all but collapsed into the chair as he sat down again. Was it just the riot? Or could word about him and Jes already be circulating? No; it couldn't be that. Even a hint of such gossip would have had his place surrounded by journalists by now, baying for a statement. Could Douglas have simply put out the word that Lewis was now officially persona non grata?
    It wouldn't have been like Douglas, but then, he'd never been betrayed so badly before. But no; again that kind of rift between two such important people would have been meat and drink to the gossip shows. So why had Tim abandoned him?
    His comm implant chimed in his ear, and Lewis sat up sharply as Douglas's voice came to him on his personal channel. Douglas sounded as calm and authoritative as always, but somehow . . . impersonal.
    "Hello, Lewis. Sorry to bother you, but I have a job that needs doing."
    "Hello, Douglas. Don't worry; you didn't interrupt anything important. What can I do for you?"
    "I need you to go over to the Court, and check on how preparations for the Wedding are going. They're way behind schedule, and I can't get a straight answer out of anybody as to why. I can't spare the time to go over and yell at them myself, so I want you to do it for me. Feel free to kick whatever arses you consider necessary, to get them up to speed again. Talk to you later, Lewis. Bye."
    And that was it. Lewis chewed the words over slowly, not sure he liked the taste, or what it signified.
    His first thought was that this was just makework, something to keep him busy. And a safe distance away from the House, and Douglas ... and Jesamine. Anyone could have coped with such a simple problem.
    Hell, Anne could have sorted it out on her lunch hour. And asking him to ensure that the Royal Wedding ran smoothly could be seen as rubbing his nose in it ... Except that that would have been petty. Douglas was many things, but petty had never been one of them. So, was there something ... important, significant, happening at the Court right now that Douglas needed Lewis to investigate? Something Douglas couldn't afford to notice officially? Some threat, some dispute, some underhandedness that Douglas couldn't discuss openly? God knew there were enough groups and individuals who'd seize on any chance of disrupting the Wedding. Lewis remembered the suicide bomber at the House, considered how much damage a transmutation bomb could do at the Wedding, and shuddered despite himself. Only one way to find out what was going on at Court: go and see. So he went.
    He was actually feeling pretty good by the time he got to Court. Good to be doing something again, something that mattered. The Court itself was full of people running back and forth on urgent errands, all of them apparently far too busy to stop and talk with him. Lewis strolled slowly around the great hall, getting the feel of things, looking and listening and saying nothing, while everyone else gave him plenty of room without actually acknowledging his presence or very existence. It soon became clear to him that while there was a lot of shouting and waving of arms going on, not to mention a hell of a lot of bad language, nothing much was actually getting done, because no one could agree on what needed doing first. Everyone had their own agenda and deadline, and no one was prepared to back down for anyone else. Projects were left unfinished or only half done because some other section leader would come along and commandeer the workforce for their own half-done or unfinished project. Lewis sighed, metaphorically rolled his sleeves up, and got stuck in.
    When in doubt, go to the top. Lewis searched out each section leader in turn, and talked politely and earnestly. When that didn't work, he grabbed two handfuls of their shirtfronts, slammed them up against the nearest wall, and glared at them till they whimpered. He explained how much better it would be for everyone if they stopped arguing and fighting with each other and started to behave in a civilized and cooperative manner, and everyone he talked to nodded eagerly, and didn't stop nodding until he took his hand off his swordhilt. Or, in extreme cases, their