Deathstalker 07 - Deathstalker Return
mind was sharp and clear, and he was more than ready to remind his many enemies that aCampbell was never more dangerous than when he had nothing left to lose. But it would have to be done slowly, and subtly. He would have to continue to act confused and beaten down in public—especially when Finn and Anne were around—until he could prove to the people who mattered that he was his old self again and pick up some useful allies. The problem was, whom to trust? How deep had the rot gone? During his self-pitying seclusion, Finn had taken the opportunity to quietly replace all the King's people with new faces loyal only to the Durandal.Douglas 's guards, and even his servants, were gone; and a lot of people he'd considered his friends wouldn't even answer his calls anymore.Douglas had been very carefully isolated, so that even if he did recover from his fugue, he'd have no one to turn to.
But there were still a few people that even Finn couldn't corrupt. Emma Steel, for example, the Paragon from Mistworld who was now patrolling Logres. And maybe Stuart Lennox, Lewis's replacement Paragon from Virimonde. If onlyDouglas could work out a way to contact them privately.
And sometimes he still thought about Lewis and Jesamine. And wondered quietly if, since he'd been so wrong about so many other things, just maybe he might have been wrong about them too. He wanted to believe they'd never been traitors. He had loved them both, after all.
Next toDouglas , James had the biggest and most luxurious set of private chambers in the palace. Anne had provided them for him, by the simple expedient of kicking out the original occupants and defying them to do anything about it. The original owners had enough sense to see which way the wind was blowing, and left without making any fuss. They in turn kicked out someone lower in status than they, and took over their quarters. For the next few days, no one could move in the palace, because the corridors were full of people changing rooms. The order to house James in the palace had King Douglas's name on it, but everyone knew it really came from Anne—and by extension, Finn.
James didn't actually like his new quarters much. They were too big, too opulent, too overpowering. He wandered from room to room feeling lost and ill at ease, afraid to touch anything in case he broke it. His quarters were full of state-of-the-art tech that he didn't know how to work. He wasn't allowed any personal servants—they might learn something, and talk. James had a favorite chair, tucked away in one corner of his bedroom, in which he spent most of his time off. The problem was, these were quarters fit for a King, and James didn't want to be a King. The thought alone scared him. He was just as scared of being James Campbell, given all the expectations that came with the name. But he was even more frightened of Finn Durandal, so he kept all these thoughts strictly to himself. The only person he ever dared to say anything to was Anne, but although she was never too busy to smile and comfort him, she never really listened to anything he said.
James belonged to Finn and Anne. He knew that. They owned him, body and soul. He was their creation.
He was busy practicing sincere smiles in front of the parlor mirror when Finn arrived late one morning, bringing with him the clone representative Elijah du Katt. James started trembling the moment he saw du Katt. It was a terrible thing to meet one's own maker. James still had nightmares about some of the
invasive surgeries du Katt had put him through, on Finn's orders. But he didn't make any fuss when du Katt unpacked his diagnostics kit; he just took off his frilly shirt and stood waiting patiently. He didn't want to make Finn angry. Du Katt took his time with the diagnostics, checking James's readings carefully against the expected optimums. He finally sniffed a few times and started packing away his equipment.
James relaxed just a little, and quietly put his shirt back on as du Katt talked with Finn about him as though he weren't there.
"He's in excellant shape, Sir Durandal. No deviation from the original process. The most perfect clone I've ever produced."
"I should hope so, considering how much you and your people charged me to make him," said Finn.
"Ah," said du Katt, smiling and shrugging, "clones aren't cheap, especially when they're illegal, and you did want something special. With all the improvements I've built into this model, he's practically a
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