Field Of Dishonor

She looked at the Queen, and Elizabeth smiled wryly.

"I was going to introduce Ariel, but it seems he's already introduced himself." Her tone was so droll Honor's lips twitched, and much of her uncertainty fell away. The Queen released her hand and turned to Henke.

"Well, well! If it isn't Cousin Mike!"

"Your Majesty." Henke shook hands in turn—much more naturally than her captain had, Honor noted—and Elizabeth shook her head again.

"So formal, Captain Henke?"

"I—" Henke began, then paused. "What did you say?" she demanded after a moment, and the Queen chuckled.

"I said 'Captain', Mike. You are familiar with the rank?"

"Well, of course I am, but—" Henke bit off what she'd started to say, and the Queen laughed aloud at her expression and looked at Honor.

"I can only put Mike's flattering deference down to your influence, Dame Honor. I seem to recall at least one occasion on which she kicked me in the shin. Both shins, in fact."

"Only after you dumped sand down my swimsuit," Henke said. "Wet sand. And I seem to recall Mother sending us both to bed without supper. Which," she added, "was grossly unfair, since you were the one who'd started it!"

Honor managed—barely—not to quail at her exec's astringent tone. Mike might be the oldest daughter of a cadet branch of the royal family, and Honor had always envied her comfortable assurance with the most loftily born of aristocrats, but this—!

"Ah, but I was a guest!" Honor relaxed as the Queen gri

"Sure it was. But don't go changing subjects on me. What's this 'Captain Henke' business?"

"Sit down, both of you." The Queen pointed at a couch and waited until they had obeyed. Nimitz swarmed down into Honor's lap as soon as she was seated, and Ariel flowed down into the Queen's lap with equal alacrity.

"Good," she said, then nodded to the woman in the second armchair. "I don't believe either of you have met Baroness Morncreek?' she asked.

Honor looked at the woman who'd replaced Sir Edward Janacek as First Lord of the Admiralty and castigated herself for not having recognized her before. The totally unexpected informality of the occasion offered a fair excuse, but she should have known who Morncreek was without being prodded. She realized the others were awaiting her reply and gave herself a mental shake.

"No, Your Majesty. I'm afraid I've never had the privilege."

"I hope you still think it's a 'privilege' when we're done, Captain." There was a wry, almost bitter note in the Queen's voice, but it vanished so quickly Honor wasn't certain she'd actually heard it. "At any rate, Mike," Elizabeth went on, "I think I'll let Lady Morncreek explain. Francine?"

"Of course, Your Majesty," Morncreek murmured, then turned to Henke. "Despite Her Majesty's somewhat unconventional and premature way of expressing herself, Commander Henke, she's essentially correct. As of this afternoon, you're a junior-grade captain." Henke's jaw dropped, and Morncreek smiled. "In addition, you'll be receiving formal orders detailing you as commanding officer of Her Majesty's light cruiser Agni within the week. Congratulations, Captain."

Henke stared at her, then wheeled to her cousin.

"Was this your idea, Beth?" she demanded almost accusingly, but the Queen shook her head.

"Blame Dame Honor, not me, Mike. I know how you hate trading on the family name, but Lady Morncreek tells me it's customary to promote the executive officer of a captain who distinguishes herself in action. Of course, if it really bothers you, I can probably get them to take it back."

"Don't you dare!"

"I thought you'd feel that way," the Queen murmured. "Once it was explained there was no wicked and unworthy nepotism involved, of course."

Henke gave her a quelling glance, then looked back at Morncreek.

"Thank you, Milady," she said in a much more serious voice.

"You're welcome, Captain."

"And now, Dame Honor, it's your turn," the Queen said, and Honor straightened. "We'll take care of the formalities—including the award of a richly deserved thank you—later in the Blue Hall, but I've decided to appoint you to the rank of Colonel of Marines, as well."

Honor's eyes widened in surprise as great as Henke's. Appointment as a colonel of Marines was a way for the Crown to show special approval of a captain too junior for promotion to flag rank, and very few officers ever received the honor. It wouldn't change her actual authority in any way, but she would receive a colonel's salary in addition to her regular pay, and the appointment was an unequivocal indication of royal favor.

"Thank you, Your Majesty," she managed, and the Queen shook her head.

"Don't thank me, Dame Honor," she said in an entirely serious voice. "If any officer ever deserved it, you do."

Honors face heated, and she made a small, uncomfortable gesture. Elizabeth only nodded as if she'd expected no other reaction, for which Honor was grateful, but then she leaned back in her chair with a sigh.

"And now that we've given you the good news, ladies, it's time to consider some a little less pleasant, " she said. Honor felt Henke stiffen on the couch beside her, and Nimitz raised his head in her lap. The Queen said nothing else for a few seconds, then shrugged.

"How much do you know about the situation in the Lords, Dame Honor?"

"Very little, Your Majesty." Honor knew her tone was guarded and wished it weren't. The Queen raised her eyebrows, and Honor stifled a shrug of her own. "We've only been in-system about fourteen hours, Your Majesty, and I'm afraid I'm not much of a student of politics. To be perfectly honest, I don't like them very much."

"Hard to blame you, in light of your experiences," the Queen said. "And I'm afraid what's going on right now won't make you any fonder of them. Unfortunately, you're squarely in the middle of a major political crisis, and I need you to understand exactly what's happening."

"I'm in the middle of a crisis, Ma'am?" Honor blurted, and the Queen nodded.

"You are. Through no fault of your own, I hasten to add, but you are. Let me explain."

Elizabeth crossed her legs and stroked Ariel's spine with a frown. "The problem, Dame Honor, is that the House of Lords has chosen to irritate me immensely. At the moment, the Opposition parties have united in a solid front against the Centrists and Crown Loyalists, which leaves Duke Cromarty short of a working majority in the upper chamber. Which, in turn, means our entire military policy is frozen until he can beg, borrow, or steal the votes to regain control. I'm sure I don't have to tell you what that means in terms of fighting the war?"

"No, Your Majesty. " Honor was stu

"I need that majority restored, Dame Honor. I need it badly. At the moment, the Peeps are in wild disarray, but that won't last, and I can't do a thing about it as long as the Opposition blocks a formal declaration of war. And I'm very much afraid rumors of Lord Young's court-martial are already having an impact on their resistance. "

Honor leaned back against the couch cushions, and puzzlement and the begi

"Too many members of the Opposition dislike you, Captain," the Queen said quietly. "It's not your fault. Your service has been exemplary—more than that, it's been outstanding, and I suspect you're even more popular in the Commons than you are unpopular in the Lords. In fact, you're something of a hero to the population in general, but your very success has embarrassed the Opposition's leadership. You underscored their mistakes and made them look stupid in Basilisk, and as for what happened in Yeltsin—"