The Art of the Impossible

In particular, K’mpec had come to realize the value of Imperial Intelligence. K’mpec had gone from implacable enemy to I.I.’s greatest advocate on the High Council in a mere two years.

A servant opened the door for Lorgh and K’mpec silently, leading them into the sitting room. It was a massive space, with grand double-door entrances (most propped open) to every other room on the ground floor, as well as a staircase leading to the second level. Each piece of furniture sat next to a pedestal on which statuary rested; the walls were hung with weaponry, primarily from the Third Dynasty, and an especially fine tapestry that took up the entire south wall, rendering Kahless and Lukara at Qam-Chee. Lorgh recognized the work of Danqo, an artist renowned for sewing tapestries from the fur of animals he killed with his bare hands—though Lorgh knew that he had become sufficiently renowned that he now had a massive estate where he bred the animals, which were mostly killed by assistants hired for the purpose. Still, only the richest Houses had Danqo’s work.

Lorgh noted that one item was missing from its usual place on the wall, but the roar of a small child answered that question in short order, as a six-year-old boy ran through the sitting room, wielding the House bat’lethlike a champion as he chased some invisible enemy. Lorgh could see traces of the boy’s grandfather in the child’s face: the old general’s eyes and hard-lipped mouth had been passed down.

That, and the deep voice. “You will die, traitor!” he bellowed to no one in particular as he ran into the next room without even acknowledging the two new adults in the house.

“Worf! Get back here!” That was the boy’s nurse, Kahlest. Lorgh looked over to see her ru

Kahlest was a beautiful woman with lustrous black hair. Her fierce face was lined with the frustrated fury that only a misbehaving child could inspire. Lorgh looked over and saw the lascivious look in his comrade’s eyes. K’mpec had made no secret of his desire for Worf’s nursemaid.

Upon seeing them, Kahlest stopped short, and stood in a more respectful posture. “Sirs. I was not aware that you had arrived.”

“We just did,” K’mpec said. “It is verygood to see you again.”

Smiling, Kahlest said, “I’m sure it is. I must chase down Worf before he kills himself or his younger brother.”

“Of course,” Lorgh said.

The servant who had let them in had already disappeared, and moments later, Mogh and Kaasin came in from yet another entryway. Mogh favored them with a rare smile. “Welcome, my friends, welcome. It is good to see you both. You will, of course, stay for a meal?”

Lorgh could hear both of K’mpec’s stomachs rumble at the prospect. “As if we would turn such an offer down.”

Soon they were all seated around the dining hall table—Mogh, Kaasin, Kahlest, Worf, and even the newborn, Kurn. It had taken Kahlest several minutes to pry the family bat’lethout of Worf’s hands. She placed the heirloom—which had been part of the House of Mogh for nine generations—back in its place on the sitting-room wall, then rejoined them in the dining hall.

Almost as big as the sitting room, the hall had two more Danqo pieces on opposite walls. The kitchen staff brought in plate after plate of mouth-watering dishes, from rokegblood pie—which Worf devoured eagerly—to the best heart of targLorgh had ever tasted.

They spoke of many things, most of them revolving around the infant who spent most of the meal throwing his food around. He’ll be at home in a Defense Force vessel’s mess hall,Lorgh thought with amusement.

“Kurn is a difficult child, but a strong one,” Kaasin said as she elegantly placed a handful of gaghinto her mouth. A mok’baramaster, Kaasin had already regained her fighting form despite being only a month removed from birth giving. Some women took years, but one did not become a mok’baramaster by allowing such trivialities to interfere with being in the best possible fighting condition.

“Which is why he will be coming with us to Khitomer,” Mogh said proudly.

At that, Lorgh and K’mpec exchanged a quick look. “That may not be wise,” Lorgh finally said.

Mogh frowned. “Why not?” he asked in as dangerous a tone as Lorgh had ever heard him use to a superior.

K’mpec growled slightly, reminding Mogh of his place. Then he explained: “Your assignment to Khitomer is notwhat it appears to be. We dorequire you to supervise the upgrades to the Defense Force installation, as your official orders state.”

“However,” Lorgh added, “anyone could do that. What we need from you relates to the conversation we had on the Pu’Bekhthree years ago.”

“Romulans.” Mogh almost sneered the word.

“What would the Romulans want with Khitomer?” Kaasin asked. “It is merely a research outpost.”

“The Romulans place value on symbolism, in particular names and places. Khitomer was the site of the treaty between the Federation and the Empire. The Romulans’ attack on Narendra III served to strengthen that treaty. We believe a Romulan agent has been sent there to sabotage the outpost and weaken the alliance.”

“How?” Kaasin asked.

K’mpec smiled grimly. “If we knew that, we would not need to send you.”

Shaking her head, Kaasin started wolfing down more gagh.“Why would the Romulans care? Have they not been our allies also, now that Praetor Narviat is in power?”

Kurn chose that moment to throw his entire plate of diced rachtacross the room. One of the servants silently moved to clean it up.

“Kurn!” Kaasin yelled. “You are forbidden all food for a day. Kahlest, take him away.”

The nurse obeyed immediately, gathering the infant in her arms and taking him out of the dining hall. Kurn rewarded this by spitting on her dress, which Kahlest ignored.

“Quite a woman, your nurse,” K’mpec said with a large smile.

“You haven’t answered my question,” Kaasin said tartly.

Mogh then finally spoke again. “Romulans are not to be trusted. After Praxis, they wormed their way into Klingon Houses like Kreel picking over the remains of our slaughtered enemies.”

“Yes,” K’mpec said, a serious look returning to his face after his rather weak attempt to distract Kaasin and Mogh with his pursuit of Kahlest. Unless,Lorgh thought with amusement, it wasn’t an attempt and he really is that smitten with her.

K’mpec continued. “While Narviat has remained committed to keeping us as allies, it is unlikely that the entire Senate agrees with this position—nor the entire military. Not to mention those aristocrats who lent support to some of our people after Praxis. The ties between the empires may not be high—but they are deep.”

Lorgh swallowed the last of his targheart. “Your job, Mogh, will be to find the tie that is on Khitomer and sever it.”

Mogh nodded. “It will be dangerous.” He looked at his mate. “Perhaps you and the children should remain here.”

“I have already accepted the position on Khitomer, my love,” Kaasin said in an iron voice.

“Position?” Lorgh asked. He did not know about this.

“A mok’barainstructor,” Kaasin said, fixing her gray eyes on Lorgh, her tone losing none of its hardness. “I have given my word to the outpost commander that I will serve this function. I will notgo back on my word because my mate feels the need to treat me with the same delicacy that he treats his precious tapestries.”

“I want to go too, Father!” Worf bellowed suddenly. Lorgh smiled, hearing his grandfather in the child. But young Worf had much more energy than the old general, whom life had so thoroughly beaten down by the time Lorgh met him. “I will help you seek out the Romulan traitor and kill him where he stands!”

“No,” Mogh said.

“I am old enough to wield a bat’leth!I can fight!”