Deathstalker 08 - Deathstalker Coda

Jesamine studied him worriedly. He was being very quiet. She wanted to help, but couldn’t see how. So much had happened to Lewis since he’d last been here, and he’d never been the easiest person to talk to when it came to personal things. He’d lost pretty much everything he ever cared for, except her. Lost his Family and his home, his Clan and his Standing. For a long time now he’d been running on anger and revenge and duty, and Jesamine had to wonder what would happen to Lewis when he no longer had those things to hold him together.
    The comm system suddenly came alive, breaking an uncomfortable silence. “This is Virimonde comm center. Welcome home, Sir Deathstalker. We always knew you’d come for us. Quite an impressive fleet you’ve picked up. Trust a Deathstalker to come home in style. I have been asked . . . to warn you, about the current condition of your Standing . . .”
    “Is it true?” Lewis said steadily. “Are they all dead?”
    “I’m afraid so, Sir Deathstalker.” The voice was quiet and respectful, but there was no give in it. “We did think a few minor cousins might have escaped, but now all the bodies have been identified, we’re sure no one was missing on the day. Everyone with the Clan name was killed. The Emperor’s creatures were very thorough. You are now the last of the direct line.”
    “No,” said Lewis. “There is another. Owen has returned.”
    “Then the rumors are true? He’s really back?”
    “Yes. He’s gone to face the Terror.”
    “We are living in a time of legends reborn. A deputation will meet you, Sir Deathstalker, on the grounds on the Standing.”
    “I don’t think I want to meet anyone, just yet,” said Lewis.
    “You’ll want to hear this. Clan Deathstalker continues. It is not gone. Virimonde comm center out.”
    “Well,” Jesamine said lightly, as the comm unit fell silent. “That was . . . enigmatic. What do you suppose they meant?”
    “I don’t know,” said Lewis. “I don’t care. I just want to go home.”
    He landed the pinnace on his Family landing pad, decorated with the Family crest, in the grounds of the ancient castle that had been home to Clan Deathstalker for so many generations. There wasn’t a lot left of the old strong-hold now. Jesamine followed Lewis nervously as he descended from the pinnace, strode across the landing pads, and then just stood looking at the smoke- and fire-blackened remains before him. All of the east wing had been blown away, leaving the interior rooms and corridors exposed to wind and rain. The courtyard walls were gone, and the front and west wing walls were pockmarked with jagged holes from disrupter fire. Even the roof had been punctured through repeatedly by energy weapons and explosions. Finn’s people had put a lot of effort into destroying the castle, but still most of it stood, defiant as ever.
    Jesamine took Lewis’s arm, trying to comfort him with her presence. “I never realized the place was so big, Lewis. It’s still . . . very impressive.”
    “I always believed I’d come back, someday,” said Lewis. “That when my time as a Paragon was done, I’d come home again, to lead my Family. We’d all sit around the open fire in the great hall, with the dogs lying around, and I’d tell them tales of the greatest city on the greatest world in the Empire. And now all that is gone, all that I really care about . . . is that my mother and my father are dead. I never got a chance to tell them all the things I’d done. The things I did, because I wanted them to be proud of me.”
    “They knew,” said Jesamine. “And of course they were proud of you. They were your parents.”
    “They’re gone, and I’m alone. I want my mum. I want my dad.”
    Jesamine took him in her arms, but he didn’t cry.
    They both looked round sharply at the sound of approaching ships in the sky. Lewis pushed Jesamine away, and his hands went to his weapons. Ships filled the sky, coming in from every direction. So many they blocked out the sun. Transport ships, cargo ships, small family ships. They landed one after another, filling and overflowing the landing pads and settling down where they could in the surrounding countryside. Hundreds of men and women disembarked and headed straight for what was left of the Deathstalker Standing. They saw Lewis and called out his name joyously, hooting and waving, and almost reluctantly he took his hand away from his gun. The crowds surged forward, chanting his name