Crown Of Fire by Kathy Tyers Read Free Book Online Page B

greet-ing."
    Glancing up, she spotted several miniaturized tri-D transcorders. Black velvette hoods shrouded them. Netaia's three newsnets would not carry this interview.
    Actually, that was a relief. She could speak freely.
    So could they, of course. . . .
    "Your Grace," she called, "Noble electors, I am grateful for the honor of your summons to be confirmed. I am ready to serve Netaia."
    Traditionally, that last line ran, I am ready to serve Netaia and the Powers that Rule. She expected whispers, and she wasn't disappointed.
    Muirnen Rogonin spread his hands. "Then let us invoke the presence of Strength, of Valor and Excellence ..."
    Now! "Before you do," she called, "I have to deliver a warning."
    It might not have been the most diplomatic way to get their attention, but it succeeded. Stunned faces glared down at her. Now she spotted Tel, sitting poised and expressionless. "Noble electors," she said, "the Netaian systems are in danger from inside as well as out in the Whorl."
    No one answered, and she wondered if these people would ever respect her, under any circumstances. Reminding herself she'd been trained as a soldier, not a diplomat, she plunged on. "On Thyrica," she said, "under a pseudonym, I enrolled at Soldane University. Federate analysts have amassed an enormous database from all twenty-three contemporary systems and several civilizations that fell during the Six-Alpha catastrophe. I have been working toward a degree in governmental analysis."
    Count Winton Stele, son of the Duke of Ishma—Dorning Stele had been one of her commanding officers at Veroh—cleared his throat. "What were your motives, Lady Firebird?" Count Winton managed to make her wastling title sound like an insult. "Your Academy education was in military science. We need the military now more than ever."
    She frowned up at his sallow face. "I enjoy learning, Count Winton. Federate society embraces many local governments. Each one has a slightly different structure, suited to its own culture."
    Bennett Drake, Duke of Kenhing, pressed to his feet. He resembled his brother Daithi, Carradee's husband, though Kenhing wasn't quite as tall. His hairline had the same widow's peak, and his face was almost as round.
    Kenhing was also one of the few electors who insisted on being called by his old-style title. When fully dressed, he usually wore a gold dagger on his belt. He wore it today. "Well answered, Lady Firebird," he called. "However, we are most concerned about the danger from this world they call Three Zed. Did Governor Danton show you the Codex simulation?"
    Surprised by Kenhing's compliment, Firebird felt her shoulders relax infinitesimally. See? she asked herself. Tel isn't the only elector with some humanity.
    "Yes, he did," she answered him. "Twenty-three other worlds are also desperate to find out where and when the Shuhr will attack again. Several Special Operations teams have been deployed to find out the Shuhr's intentions." Including this one —but she couldn't say so. Instead, she returned to her previous topic. "The movement of governments from feudalism to populism has been widely studied," she said. "When I discovered the topic, it intrigued me. The more I learned, the more I worried, because wherever that progression toward representative government has been delayed by force, the downfall of feudalism came by force."
    Without pausing, she recited the histories she'd studied: star systems bloodbathed by civil warfare, nations subdued by outside forces. . . that gave her a chance to tie the Shuhr threat back in. She used every storytelling skill she'd studied at Hesed House, trying to make those tales compelling, explaining how the Federacy's Regional command could not intervene in cases of internal conflict. She wished she could add music. Mere words didn't convey the terrorized heartbreak of decimated worlds.
    "Our people," she said, "appropriated Netaia's ancient mythology and made it a state religion. We adopted a strict caste