Глава 11

Feist makes his way to a pipeline entrance.

He's done his survey. Somewhere along this passage is a connection to Sudean.

But now on the verge of setting foot inside it, he has doubts after all.

He wasn't kidding Patto. He's thought over every difficulty he might potentially face.

Critically, though, and what he never said, was that he didn't have a plan for every problem.

Granny wasn't wrong, after all. He's just a smith. He has a head that passes for smart, and relatively hardworking.

These two things ensured he could muddle through life fine in Londinium's peaceful years, but there's no telling if they'll save his life right under the Sarkaz's noses.

Tommy was right. If only those massive, hulking metal lads were still around.

He's all grown up, and still he's never seen a Steam Knight before.

Bang. Clang. Bang.

With the factory ceiling so high, and the hatches so small, the view of the sky can't help being miniscule from within.

Its ever-changing shades cast a like projection down into the factory. Never-changing is the sound of the assembly line, one hunk of metal striking another—

As well as the sight of old Granny, standing at its side.

Think it's dull, don't you?

Hold onto your hammer and spanner tight.

If you really want to do something, you've got to persevere.

You strike once, and you get nothing more than a hunk of beaten metal.

You strike again and again, and you can make steam armor.

You strike again and again, and then your child, and your children's children carry on striking—

And we've got Londinium.

Should he head back?

Should he go in?

He has no idea.

From far away comes the sound of a Sarkaz bugle, and Feist follows that sound.

Atop every factory in Londinium stands a flag.

That flag stands for Victoria.

Not once since this factory's founding has that ever changed.

But that, as of today, <i>has</i> changed.

Sign here, Ms. Catherine.

Without hesitation, Catherine, upon the document that embodies transferal of factory authority, signs a practiced signature.

And now, the final changing of the flag.

Go.

Yes, sir.

Stay, Ms. Catherine.

Be what it may, you are currently witnessing history.

Sir, can I light a smoke?

By all means.

Sir, just as you've heard of me, I've heard about you too.

Oh?

Gaul.

Yes... My father was a Gaulish loyalist, that's no secret.

If you're querying me how I feel at this moment, Ms. Catherine...

An instant of joy that there was no blood shed throughout this procedure, but outside of that, my heart is filled with nothing but sorrow.

Not far away, Sarkaz soldiers ferry over the flag that stands for them.

Meanwhile, an additional two Sarkaz prepare to lower the current one.

Catherine can see the happiness on their faces.

And beyond them, a resplendent sunset glow.

Catherine knows. It all signifies the dark isn't long away.

Feist turns his head, and from this position, he just so happens to be able to see the factory's flagpole towering high.

He stands there, and watches as Victoria's flag descends, foot by foot.

A moment later, foot by foot, the flag of the Sarkaz rises.

As if nothing's changed at all.

He takes a deep breath, and sets foot into the pipeline.

It's pitch dark within. Apprehensively, he sets off, for the direction of Sudean he recalls.

All of Londinium's munitions factories have now completed the handover, and on this day, they have exchanged Victorian flags for those of the Sarkaz.

They flutter in the breeze.

2:55 P.M. \ Overcast

Londinium

Lady Golding, at last, you're back!

Did I make it in time?

Of course. You've rehearsed this play for well over a year, and this is the first time the children are performing the whole thing. We couldn't possibly start the show without you.

I must find myself a good seat, then.

Children, are you ready?

Ready!

Let's begin, then.

Lights—

Act 1 —————— Scene 1

Good morning, sir! There is a look of concern on your face. Is something worrying you?

The horn of victory has blown atop the walls for three days and nights, but why do I feel uneasy?

Has our great general not returned triumphant? Praise his bravery and fearlessness!

Bravery? Fearlessness? Perhaps. But you did not see the light in his eyes when he returned? When he gazed upon the crown, he was like a condorwing circling above a limping meatbeast.

Greed can send the most kindhearted man straight to hell.

And the masses will forever believe he reaped only what he had sown.

These are our terms, Miss Allerdale.

You need certain... 'goods' transported into Londinium, and this is nothing like what we usually carry. Both the quantity and the weight... are highly unusual.

I shan't ask what it is you need transported and why you need them brought into the city, but you must know that the risk we will carry for transporting them is immense.

And I'm certain you know there are not many men out there who can do this for you.

The Sarkaz keep a close eye on all ports of entry. Should they learn of this under-the-table deal, not one of us will leave Londinium alive.

Even if your background and the greed of your friends watching your back are enough to keep your lifestyle in Central Londinium as is, I'm afraid they won't help with this affair.

If you want this deal to go through, you must put something worth the risk on the table.

Thank you for agreeing to meet with me, Mr. Bader. I will consider your proposal.

Time waits for no one. You must make your decision soon.

Their asking price is high.

We've discussed this situation. The Royal Mint is in Sarkaz hands. News of this must've already spread throughout the entire country via the Magna bankers.

Merchant smugglers are worried that the payment they earn will be worthless by this time next month. Naturally, they demand a method of payment that will keep its value in the long term.

You intend to accept his terms?

Mr. Bader was right. 'Time waits for no one.'

We have at most five more days to prepare. If we are to ambush the Defense Forces' command tower, we need to bring more weapons into the city.

But... what they demand is very dear to you.

Hah.

But this is the position we are in, Clovisia.

This is the position <i>I</i> am in.

How would you figure what it means to me?

I'm afraid...

No, I can say this for sure. Your speculations are all wrong.

Do you think of me simply as the magnificent Duke of Cumberland?

You likely weren't even born yet, but I...

I saw them hang Victoria's magnificent Lion King in the palace gardens with my own two eyes.

My name is Cumberland, and everyone knows Cumberland was His Majesty's most faithful friend.

Do you think the reason I stand here in front of you completely unharmed is because the bigwigs in Parliament had mercy on me?