Steam rose high above the newly extinguished Lakehouse.
Out the back, Joel led his armada from the lawn, all still holding buckets.
On the porch, Ben and Ratapu leaned against the banister, Thatcher lay pale against the back door.
The top floor of the Lakehouse was almost completely gutted - the rear bedroom was entirely gone, Harreinas bedroom had suffered great damage - it no longer had a roof, the walls burnt down to the windowsill.
"Ben", Thatcher croaked weakly, "we didn't come here for a cozy catch-up - we're in need of help".
Ben turned to face her, leaving Ratapu to keep his gaze locked on the lake as he listened.
"That's where we come to blows, I'm afraid", Ben replied with a look of concern.
"Meaning what?", Ratapu turned to Ben and asked coldly.
"Those guys", Ben pointed to where Joel and his group had just been, "they're not my subjects - they won't put their weight behind me, or you, for that matter", Ben glanced between both Thatcher and Ratapu.
"Under the FPA-", Thatcher began before Ben cut her off.
"They all want out", he corrected himself, "well, a good majority of them want out. And it's not just the Armada, this is a nationwide sentiment. People don't want to give over what food they have in exchange for things they don't need".
"You're their leader, man, order them to serve you!", Ratapu barked aggressively.
"No, I'm not. I was the interim President of Rebury, but Joel made it incredibly clear to me while we spoke this morning that he and the Armada are headed out this morning to find replacement candidates. This election, Ms. Thatcher, is still full steam ahead", Ben spoke gravely.
"What are the chances that the next President will also be anti-FPA?", Thatcher asked sadly.
"My best estimate is that Rebury will pull out of the FPA by the end of the end of the year", Ben answered, "and then that will drag Eldore into-", Thatcher cut him off.
"Eldore?", she asked.
"He knew, Thatcher. He and Harreina have been seeing each other for the last year and a bit", Ben explained, "he has received instruction, from Harreina, to march on Rebury should Rebury retreat from the FPA".
"That'll respark the Southern Wars", Thatcher responded, mouth agape.
"Exactly", Ben nodded, "which neither we, nor Joel and the majority of the Armada want".
"Can't this Joel just stand as a candidate for President?", Ratapu asked, fingers steepled.
"No", Ben answered shaking his head, "the Rebrurian Constitution forbids Armada Members from sitting as President".
"So have him resign", Thatcher offered by way of an answer.
"It's not that simple - there need to be six months between resignation and campaign. We can't afford to wait that long".
"Effectively, we're fucked then", Thatcher retorted dryly, "because we've got Settled Folk knocking on Gossfordshires door, no way to get mass quantities of food north, no way of trapping the Settled in the south, and a trade agreement falling apart so rapidly that it'll spark a second war that's only just been calmed within the last two years".
"Yes", Ben nodded almost too enthusiastically.
"Jesus fucking Christ, Ben. You don't think you could've told us about Harriena before she died?", Thatcher tried to stand but collapsed under her own fatigue.
"You alright?", Ratapu asked.
"Fine", Thatcher waved him down, looking at Shultz and waiting for him to answer.
"I couldn't. She would've fired me if I breached her privacy".
"Well she could've at least contemplated how fucked we are now not having had the time to prepare for all of this", Thatcher hissed.
"She did contemplate it. The issue was that idiot Sirene opting to side with the candidates", Ben spat.
"And where is Sirene?", Thatcher asked coolly.
"Dead on the beaches of Motueka", Ben replied icily.
"What?".
"She got what she deserved", Ben shrugged nonchalantly.
"Okay", Thatcher scowled, "so what, then?".
"I think our best chance is to talk Eldore down, get him to remove his pledge to march on Rebury. That way, you've still only got one battlefront to consider, with a backup in Eldore should things go wrong. I mean, if he's not fighting here, the ZDF is free to back you up in Gossfordshire", Ben explained.
"Fuck that, we need both Rebury and Zedeylia to form a defensive line at the Southern Motuekan Border, expecting Zedeylia to do it alone is weak", Thatcher grumbled.
"Well, if you've got a better idea", Ben offered out.
"I do", Thatcher nodded, eyes wide as if she'd just had a eureka moment.
YOU ARE READING
The Toils (Book Two)
Historical Fiction"Magnus gave a brief thought to Thatcher, somewhere in the deep south, surely over the Cold Country border by now" Thatcher has a lot on her plate. The skies have grown black, the ground is shaking, crops are dying and aquifers are drying up. Her op...
