Bloodrush (The Scarlet Star Trilogy Book 1) by Ben Galley Page A

election will cause havoc so deep into his term. An Empire with so many wars to fight does not need such distraction at its heart. Yet there is no precedent.’
    Politics was a game Dizali had learnt to play very well indeed. ‘The party is as much elected as its Prime Lord. There are some who say the power should pass down the party line, to keep the peace.’
    More shuffling ensued. Something loomed close against the curtain. Dizali heard the queen breathing. ‘And what do you say, High Lord?’
    The hidden smile was allowed to flourish, ever so slightly. ‘I say, as Second Lord, that such a solution is in the best interests of the party. And as there is no precedent, the royal word is law in this instance.’
    ‘As it has been since the first dawn,’ rumbled the queen.
    ‘If I may make bolder, my Queen, such royal words might also deal with the Bulldog’s vast estate. I take it your Majesty would prefer to keep it out of the reach of prying hands. Hands that are not as loyal as others,’ Dizali said.
    Victorious paused to breathe and rattle some more. ‘The opposition needs no further fuel for ambition or argument. The Bulldog’s boy is to be brought under our wing. I shall leave it in your capable hands.’
    Dizali bowed as low as his spine would allow. ‘My eternal praise, Queen Victorious.’
    A part of the shadow moved then, and though Dizali knew not what part it was, or if it even had a name, he got its meaning. He made a hasty, yet respectful retreat, and hurried back to meet Gavisham at the summit of the stairs. His smile had slipped the moment he had stepped through the doors. Now a firm, tight line had replaced it, accompanied by a hard glint in the man’s eye.
    ‘How’d it go, Milord?’
    ‘Well,’ hissed Dizali, as he clattered down the steps, Gavisham in tow.
    ‘What’s the plan, then?’
    Dizali stabbed at the air as he reeled off each command. ‘It’s time to set the wheels in motion. Prepare the papers. I want the Hark boy, Tonmerion, watched like a hawk. I want reports too, every week. If he sneezes, I want to know of it. Send a wiregram to our good friend and ally. He will know what to do. Understand?’
    ‘Clear as a bell.’
    ‘Then get to it,’ Dizali growled. ‘I have work of my own to do.’

Chapter V
    LILAIN
    ‘These creatures are strange. I’ve never come so close before, not to these ones, with their castles and their slaves and their money. They exude it, flaunt it. The ladies are draped in it. The lords drink it down by the glass, or roll it up and smoke it. It’s as if their status depends on how fast they can spend their money.
    If I weren’t running for my life I would stick around a while longer, and teach them a lesson in frugality.’
    6th May, 1867
    S teel and iron, that was all that could be heard. Not the chuffing of the colossal engine, not the grating crunch of black shovels on coal, not even the chuckling, or the whispering, or the heated debates of the other passengers. Just iron. Just steel. They battled one another continuously—each creak and bang and thud trying to outdo the next. The clear winner were the wheels, of course, and the sturdy tracks they rolled against continuously.
    Merion felt every rivet, every scratch, every little crunch and squeak. It was an incessant clattering that had been hammered into the very bones of his body. He prayed for water and coal stops. He prayed for towns and stray cows. Hell, he even prayed for women tied to the tracks, as he had seen in penny dreadfuls. Anything to quieten the wheels for just a moment, and let him hear the wind, or the trees, or the piercing whistle of the engine, to know there was something else beyond the cacophony.
    Days had become knitted together and formed a week. Merion had spent the sunlight hours with his face pressed up against the window, watching every mile roll past. He took in every inch of his new home. No matter how sure he was that he had seen every sight the Kingdom of America