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resources, I admitted.
Ah . . . you have considerable expertise there. But it is a pity you could
not also teach the same with regard to military science. You were a most
distinguished pilot, and someone should teach those who will lead that
excellence in the military cannot be based on technology alone, no matter how
advanced and how fantastic. Nor can it be based merely on economics or body
counts. He laughed. I wander. Perhaps we should have that drink or tea
someday and compare stories.
I'd look forward to that.
The marshal slipped away, past two men in formal dress I'd never seen before.
Until later, Johan. Dietre offered a French hug. I almost didn't feel the
envelope slipped inside my jacket until after he had stepped away. Take care
of your wife. None of us would wish to lose her.
Thank you. I will.
With a brisk nod, he stepped away, and I turned toward Llysette. He is very
taken with your singing. He was also at the Salt Palace concert.
Colonel Sudwerth, carrying a clear drink of some sort, untouched, appeared,
with his jovial smile in place. You move in interesting circles, Minister
Eschbach. Did you know that man he calls himself Fontaine now is the head of
New French espionage in St. Petersburg?
Behind him, Commander Madley watched, holding a drink of his own, also
untouched.
I can't say that I did. That was true enough. I laughed. We only talked
about the concert, but I appreciate the warning, and I'll certainly be on my
guard if I run across him again.
Try to be on your guard before you run into him. He's an especially nasty
type, I've been told.
I knew that already, but I just smiled. I'll be very careful.
Sudwerth gave me a perfunctory nod and headed toward someone in a Russian
uniform. I don't think I'd ever seen a place where so many men wore uniforms.
Abruptly, Drummond Kent appeared at my elbow, accompanied by Hamilton
Tavoian.
You are both invited to meet the tzar and tzarina . . . they will see you in
their box.
So we followed Deputy Minister Kent and a pair of tall guards in uniforms to
the doorway to the imperial box, guarded by yet another set of guards.
Tzar Alexander IV was tall, a good two or three inches taller than I was, but
balding. He stood on one side of the box, flanked by the icy-blonde tzarina.
Please . . . He gestured, and we stepped forward, but I lagged a bit so that
Llysette was the one in front. It was her night and her concert.
You are not Russian, but you sang those songs like a Russian and an angel,
and that is why all in the theatre wept. The tzar offered Llysette a warm
smile. Always, you will be welcome in St. Petersburg and Russia.
Llysette bowed. Merci, votre majesté.
No . . . we owe you thanks, and we always will. He looked at me and smiled,
an expression somewhere between bemusement and courtesy. Your wife sings like
an angel, but I understand you're like the seraph who protects her.
I do what I can, your majesty. I suspected he deserved some more exalted
title, but since no one had briefed me on that, I couldn't offer it. I doubt
anyone really expected we would meet the tzar personally, or, if they did,
they wanted me to botch it. Wouldn't any loving and devoted husband?
He laughed. Minister Eschbach, you amuse me. Would that you were Russian, but
we can do little enough of that in these days.
I'm glad to have brought you that amusement, your majesty. I inclined my
head slightly, a head upon which he wished to bestow some honor or which he
wished to remove, or both.
In these days, the profession of autocracy is fraught with danger. We can, of
course, be more forthcoming in culture than in commerce and government. He
turned and murmured a few words to the icy figure of the tzarina.
She smiled, and the momentary warmth was almost like frost shattering off a
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statue in brilliant sunlight.
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