The Trade of Queens Read Online Free PDF

that had threatened to kill him cured by Miriam’s magic medicine, he felt like a new man, albeit a somewhat breathless one upon whose heels middle age was treading. “Drowning in paperwork, of course, but aren’t we all? My staff are just about keeping on top of the routine stuff, but if anything out of the ordinary comes up they need their reins held.” Barely a square inch of Sir Adam’s desk was occupied, but that was one of the privileges of office: There was another, discreet servants’ door in the opposite wall, and behind it a pool of stenographers, typer operators, and clerks to meet his needs. “What can I do for you, citizen?”
    â€œIt’s the French business.” Sir Adam sounded morose. “I’ve asked Citizens Wolfe and Daly to join us in a few minutes.” Wolfe was the commissioner for foreign affairs, and Daly was the commissioner for the navy: both cabinet posts, like Burgeson’s own, and all three of them—not to mention Sir Adam—were clinging on to the bare backs of their respective commissariats for dear life. Nobody in the provisional government knew much about what they were supposed to be doing, with the questionable exception of the Security Committee, who were going about doing unto others as they had been done by with gusto and zeal. Luckily the revolutionary cadres were mostly used to living on their wits, and Sir Adam was setting a good example by ruthlessly culling officials from his secretariat who showed more proficiency in filling their wallets than their brains. “We can’t put them off for any longer.”
    â€œWhat are your thoughts on the scope of the problem?” Erasmus asked carefully.
    â€œWhat problem?” Sir Adam raised one gray eyebrow. “It’s an imperialist war of attrition and there’s nothing to be gained from continuing it. Especially as His Former Majesty emptied the coffers and mismanaged the economy to the point that we can’t afford to continue it. The question is not whether we sue for peace, it’s how—ah, John, Mark! So glad you could join us!”
    So am I, Erasmus thought as the two other commissioners exchanged greetings and took their seats. Being seen to proceed by consensus on matters of state was vital—at this point, to take after the king’s authoritarian style would be the quickest way imaginable to demoralize the rank and file. “Are we quorate?” he asked.
    â€œI believe so.” Wolfe, a short, balding fellow with a neat beard, twitched slightly, a nervous tic he’d come out of the mining camps with—Erasmus had had dealings with him before, in Boston and parts south. “Is this about the embassy?” he asked Sir Adam.
    â€œYes.” Sir Adam reached into a desk drawer and withdrew a slim envelope. “He insisted on delivering his preliminary list of demands to me, personally, ‘as acting head of state’ as he put it.” He made a moué of distaste. Wolfe grunted irritably as Sir Adam slid the envelope across the desk towards him. “I don’t want to preempt your considered opinion, but I don’t consider his demands to be acceptable.”
    Erasmus raised an eyebrow: Daly, the naval commissioner, looked startled, but Wolfe took the trespass on his turf in good form, and merely began reading. After a moment he shook his head. “No, no … you’re absolutely right. Impossible.” He put the paper down. “Why are you even considering it?”
    Sir Adam smiled with all the warmth of a glacier: “Because we need peace abroad . You know and I know that we cannot accept these terms, but neither can we afford to continue this war.”
    â€œMay I?” Erasmus reached for the letter as Sir Adam nodded.
    â€œBut the price they’re demanding—” Erasmus scanned quickly. After the usual salutations and diplomatic greetings, the letter was brusque and to the point.