Between the Devil and Three Seas

[Polesia]

Independence Square
Amstov
Trivodnia

A revolutionary mood filled the air, carried by the waves of hundreds of banners and chorus of a dozen protest songs. The din of political chanting, interrupted by the occasional firework or flare, could be heard throughout the streets of central Amstov, as thousands demonstrated in the main plaza, demanding the second election that had been promised to them.

It was an unprecedented moment in Trivodnian politics. Marches had been taking place for over a week now, with a permanent camp set up in Independence Square. TV crews from across the world could seen on the edges, as the rest of the globe wondered if poor, little Trivodnia, only ever an artificial barrier between a Red Kadikistan and the Polesian Sea, would survive or collapse.

In a rare show of unity, the country's main opposition parties had agreed to boycott the National Assembly, after the Supreme Court blocked a fresh round of voting, allowing the ruling Social Democratic Alliance to return to power. But the public mood had changed dramatically over the course of the Christmas Crisis, as the anti-Semitic outbursts from Crotobaltislavonia and elsewhere galvanised a sense of Jewish pride, while Krasnislavian nationalism hardened in response. If an election was to take place now, it would be either the Jewish People's Party or the Krasnislavian National Party forming an administration instead.

"Soc Dems out!" Was the main cry that could be heard but inside the main institutions of power - the Chancellery, National Assembly, Presidency and Supreme Court - it was falling on deaf ears.

 

[Polesia]

The Chancellery
Amstov
Trivodnia

"Do you hear the people sing?" Vladimir Pinski asked with a wry smile as he entered.

"I didn't have you down as a man of culture," Alexander Kahnemann shot back, not turning to face the External Affairs minister.

"What can I say? I like musicals," Pinski said, his hands gliding over the large table that sat in the middle of the room.

A large security cordon kept protesters away from the Chancellery - an imposing neo-Gothic palace that stood right in the heart of Amstov - but on a quiet moment you could still hear the chanting from Independence Square, where thousands had amassed to try and force a second election - and keep Kahnemann and Pinski out of power.

"Well we both know how that play ends," muttered Kahnemann darkly as be continued to stare out the window, to a sharp snort from the minister.

"Indeed we do," replied Pinski.

An awkward silence followed.

"So I hear you're going to the Supreme Court to see if we can treat the boycott as a 'mass abstention' and go ahead a form a government anyway," Pinski restarted. "As foreign minister I'd-"

"You're not a minister yet," Kahnemann snapped.

"Nor are you Chancellor," Pinski cautioned to a curt tut. "Anyway as I was about to say, what will our friends in Trier and Chagny say? About Trivodnia being an effective one-party state? You saw how quick Eiffelland was to criticise the President-"

"At this point I don't think they care, nobody cares about Trivodnia anymore. Besides I think from their statement it was quite clear they thought the election result should be respected," Kahnemann cut across the minister again, still not facing him.

"We will see if we take our seats then-" Pinski said, heading to the door.

"When. When we take our seats."

"Yes, Chancellor, when," Pinski finished sardonically, slamming the door behind him.

 

[Polesia]

Kretyn
Trivodnia

Uladzimir Sannikov tried not to smirk as he was led out of the Krasnislavian National Party headquarters in handcuffs. A large crowd had gathered outside, even on a foul Spring day like this, booing and hissing as balaclava-clad members of the National Watch dragged the KNP leader and a few others towards the black vans waiting for them. Officers from Kretyn City Police Department tried desperately to push back the pack of news-hungry journalists shoving cameras and microphones in front of Sannikov, yelling question after question at him in an attempt capture the right photograph and quote that would best sum up the latest drama in the tragedy that was Trivodnian politics.

The Supreme Prosecutor had played right into the KNP's hands by issuing arrest warrants for the independence working group. For the party's already riled up supporters, the latest move by Amstov would be tantamount to a declaration of war. The KNP may have publicly appealed for calm, but the leadership knew there would be riots by midnight.

Still desperately trying to suppress a smile, Sannikov stopped to address the media.

"I-"

A swift yank on his handcuffs and Sannikov was on the floor, tumbling down the steps.

Another victory then.

Supreme Prosecutor
Amstov
Trivodnia

"NonononoNOOOO!"

Anatoly Belusov started flapping wildly as he watched the footage of the National Watchman throw Uladzimir Sannikov to the ground.

"FuckfuckfuckfuckFuck!"

The young spokesman tried quickly to light a cigarette, his shaky hands stopping the first few attempts. After a number of fails, he eventually succeeded, taking a sharp deep breath before coughing. Too much smoke and not enough air.

"Anatoly! Wunderkind of the Supreme Prosecutor's communications department. How are we?"

The booming question came from Igor Dukelsky, Anatoly's boss and mentor. Igor asked with a genuine smile on his face, always enjoying the torment of his protégé. Anatoly's continued coughing meant he was unable to answer.

"Ah," Igor continued, turning his attention to the TV screen, "another fabulous job by our boys in black."

"Why did they floor him?" Anatoly asked weakly, having only just recovered.

"The National Watch are not known for their delicacy, Anatoly. You will have covered up enough misconduct investigations to know that yourself," Igor said, again with a satisfied smile.

"Why not use local police?"

"The police commissioner was quite clear the last thing his force needed was to be seen locking up the KNP. Besides constitutional crimes are a national matter, and therefore a matter for the National Watch. Again, something you should know, especially as a trainee lawyer, though I suppose you did fail-"

"Alright, Igor, alright," Anatoly had regained his composure now, "I suppose I will be giving a statement on this too?"

The Krasnislavian had first announced the arrest warrants. Better optics, as the director of communications, a Jew, put it.

"Nah," Igor replied with a wave of a hand, "leave it to Yulia Whats-her-face at the Watch to deal with. We've done our bit."

 

[Polesia]

Mikhail Luchenok complex
Kretyn
Trivodnia

The acrid smell of burning rubber and plastics could be smelled for miles, carried by the billowing black smoke that flowed from flaming bins and cars surrounding one of Trivodnia's most notorious public housing estates.

Built in the early 1930s, the Mikhail Luchenok complex soon became world renowned as an exemplar of modernist architecture. But by the 1950s it had become a slum, as the cheap construction materials used soon started to crumble away and properly managing the building proved prohibitively expensive. Overcrowding, drugs and gangs blighted the estate, as did political violence, with the neighbourhood becoming a hotbed of Krasnislavian nationalism - ironic given it was named after the first Trivodnian president.

News of the Krasnislavian National Party's leader being arrested soon arrived, and by nighttime the place was a warzone. Knowing the city police, backed by up the feared National Watch Special Battalions, would soon arrive, barricades were erected at the main entrances, guarded by men armed with anything they could find - knives, crowbars, table legs - while Krasnislavian banners - red, black and white for republicans, red, black and gold for royalists - flew freely from people's balconies. Those with criminal connections had firearms stashed away, but openly brandishing a gun was a surefire way of being shot and killed by the authorities, no questions asked.

***​

Kapitan Arkadi Smirin surveyed the scene before him. Rubbish was strewn across the street and vehicles overturned, as a mob of masked youths hurled rocks, bottles and whatever they could find at Arkadi and his men. They were standing far enough away that most items missed their target, but a few would come close enough that a warning shot would be fired in return, aimed way above the heads of those rioting. No deaths, in the word of the Polkovnik.

"Kapitan Smirin this is local command, sitrep request over," cackled Arkadi's radio.

"Local command this is Kapitan Smirin, unknown number of unidentifiable assailants blocking Unity Boulevard over," Arkadi replied, as a Molotov cocktail smashed just metres away from him.

A short pause.

"Kapitan you have permission to engage, over."

"Local support? Over."

"City police engaged elsewhere over."

Arkadi chuckled. Cowards.

Turning his attention away from the crowd of in front of him, he signalled for the converted IFV, armed with a water cannon rather than a machine gun, to come forward. The row of Watchmen, covered head to toe in riot gear, quickly parted to allow the vehicle through. Another gesture from Arkadi, and a high powered stream of H²O was sprayed liberally at the blockade.

"Watchmen, advance!"

As soon as Arkadi gave the battle cry, the clapping of a hundred shields could be heard, followed by the stomping of boots.

It was going to be a long night for all.

 

[Gunnland]

Villa Atil on the Polesian
75km SE of Amstov
Trivodnia

Ironic: a powerful conspiracy of Jews and capital, which vulgar Gunnishmen imagined, assembled here clan chief at its head. When the Wilsons stormed MacLeish castle in '45, they found all kinds of Judaica; rumors were that the MacLeishes sheltered Jews. That the MacLeishes believed themselves to be Jews was too far-fetched even to become the stuff of rumor. Robin, a nubile blonde, was absently rubbing one of the MacLeish's shoulders, his favorite of a dozen ladies that doubled as swim team and harem. Lady Beth Cawdor-MacLeish, who wore a mannequin mask over a terribly burned face, seemed not to mind these scandalous attentions. That the MacLeishes believed themselves to be religious at all was far-fetched enough.

Whether or not Moisei Carlebach recognized Duncan MacLeish as a 'real Jew' was unimportant. They shared the political goal of all 'real Jews.' Everyone knew that the chief's brothers Alastair, Donald, and Gregor awaited death in the Empire. What nobody realized is that drug smuggling was a minor concern of the MacLeish's global business empire. Why risk noble blood to move heroin? No; the MacLeishes were in the business of arming Jews in the Holy Land. Kilts and Gunnish accents were perfect cover. Usually. In a black turtleneck and slacks, Duncan was an aging man seeking to look 'sporty.' Duncan looked out over the sparkling blue Polesian, a hand to his close-cropped white beard. He thought not of Jerusalem, but another lost homeland. The dispossessed 'Lord of the Isles' was thinking of Oa and Mar, the two rocks rising out of the fog in the straits between Gunnland and Scania. Then his mind snapped back to the seaside villa he named for the capital of Bulan, qaghan of the Khazars.

"This crisis is an opportunity, Moisei. The volkische Juden will lose the shtetl and remember Zion." He didn't understand Moisei's caution. Let them arrest Sannikov! Let there be civil war! Duncan, for all his money and power, was a man without a home. He dared not return to Gunnland, or to his seaside compound south of Bremen. There were discussions about moving Lloyd & MacLeish's corporate headquarters to Dulwich or Hammersmith. He liked the Engellexians, who appreciated noble birth and dignified bearing; how different they were from the cabal of young hypocrites who ran his own country, who kept the Gunnish people ignorant and superstitious like children, forbade a free press and free commerce, and kept his countrymen sheltered from the rest of the world like indigenous people on a reservation, or like animals in a zoo. Duncan thought of himself as a simple man with simple desires: he wanted a home, and freedom.

 

[Polesia]

Villa Atil on the Polesian
75km SE of

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Moisei Carlebach sat uncomfortably as the head of Clan MacLeish rambled at him. It was a wide ranging rant, covering the politics of his home country Gunnland through to his business plans in Engellex via myths of missing Jewish tribes, until finally reaching the situation in Trivodnia.

"This crisis is an opportunity, Moisei. The volkische Juden will lose the shtetl and remember Zion."

Moisei had to suppress an eye roll. For as much as the Homeland Union relied on the generosity and enthusiasm of its Gentile supporters, their impatience over the lack of a Jewish state was a constant irritant. They forget how long it took to for their own nations to come into being.

"There will be no civil war, Duncan, and if there was, we both know why it would not end with what we both want," Moisei replied, vaguely gesturing East. The Homeland Union leader knew without a doubt a disintegrating Trivodnia would soon be swallowed up Kadikistan, giving Ivar a foothold on the Polesian coastline, and now with Crotobaltislavonia firmly under the the boot, a direct route into the heart of Gallo-Germania too.

The MacLeish chieftain harrumphed, before launching into another tirade, his gaze cast across the still waves of the Polesian. Blue water thinking, smirked Moisei, as he too looked off into the horizon.

The truth was the characterisations of the Jews in the Gunnish press and elsewhere as money-men and 'rootless cosmopolitans' were not far off, from Moisei's experience of his own people anyway. He remembered tales from his father on trying to build New Ararat - one of the first Zionist settlements outside the Holy Land - and how quickly Jews from all corners of the world fled back to the comfort and security of their old lives and identities, unable to cope with the challenges facing them, be that the local Krasnislavian population, the Trivodnian government or even simply learning Hebrew.

Clan MacLeish had been an early sponsor of New Ararat, its clansmen frequently visiting the town with wild claims of a family tree that had its roots in ancient Israel. In fact, Clan MacLeish had been one of the first proponents of a Jewish state in the Three Seas region. During the Trivodnian war for independence, MacLeish tartan could be found alongside the Star of David and menorah in the Zionist ranks, as Gunnish 'Israelites' fought alongside the real sons of Abraham.

 

[Gunnland]

"The Fishbowl"
40km S of Bremen
Eiffelland

Mamma mia. Big sunglasses, long legs, everything; décolleté that showed a long thin red scar on her sternum and disappeared... The doughfaced attorney did not want to be caught staring. Adelaide's high heels stepped delicately over long black hoses and scuba tanks on the bottom of the drained swimming pool. Imagine her swimming her half-nude in this thing, hooked up to one of those hoses. Padraig Smith felt a twinge of tightness between his fat thighs, and quickly dismissed the fantasy. The last time the enormous lawyer had been in the Fishbowl he was interrogating Duncan MacLeish about the kidnapping of Princess -- now Queen -- Julian.* Now it was surrounded by red and white tape reading POLIZEIABSPERRUNG and a few Eiffellandian police officers smoking cigarettes and looking out over the Long Sea. A nice assignment.

Robert Gunn walked through an opening cut into the glass wall of what was once a human fish tank. He was wearing 'international costume,' a business suit with a wide blue-and-green tartan scarf. So was Padraig, except instead of Gunn colors he wore the garish red-yellow-green Buchanan tartan, cut a little more amply to conceal some of his massive girth. "Look at this, Trick." Robert was holding a kiaf between a thumb and a forefinger, a puzzled expression on his face. "There's a mezuzah on the door to the study." Smith shrugged. "Maybe one of his accountants was making itself at home... I wonder what old King Neptune was up to in here." He kicked one of the scuba tanks and shuddered.

The trip was a boondoggle. Robert had no real interest in the Eiffellandian seizure of some of Duncan MacLeish's private assets. But he wanted to give all appearances to Trier and the Empire that the Gunnish government was committed to the international prosecution of drug crimes. More importantly, he thought that Queen Julian might be distracted away from making trouble in Jydermark-Østveg if she saw the opportunity to strike the MacLeish.** Though it might be more dangerous to go after the MacLeish. Pipe bombs in Gøternhaven aren't going to start a Gunnish civil war... And it was a chance to get a read on his old thrael, Adelaide. How was she influencing Julian? Adelaide had enjoyed rocketing the Borschel 986 down the ten-lane freeway between Weissenfels and Bremen. The tall brunette was flirty and fun, but seemed to avoid any discussion of Julian. To take a kind of petty revenge, Robert had made her bring the car around to see his former student Magdalena, who had recently taken a post at the Staatsuniversität Bremen. "My best assistant in a long time..."

Robert shrugged at Padraig. "Sardanapalus's swimming palace, huh?" He kicked a scuba tank, which went clanging along the empty pool bottom. "You'll have to tell me tales of his lechery over beers..." He saw his reflection in Adelaide's sunglasses. "She can sit in the backseat."

*

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**

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[Polesia]

Villa Atil on the Polesian
75km SE of

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President Meier Lauterpacht thanked the National Watchmen guarding the villa as he left. Duncan MacLeish had insisted on using his own men for security, but President Lauterpacht insisted otherwise. Ostensibly it was a gesture of goodwill for Clan MacLeish's generosity towards Trivodnia, but the real reason was the Free State's leader didn't want armed Gunnish clansmen roaming around. His country had enough problems as it is, the last thing it needed was for Gunnland's internal conflicts spilling over here as well.

"To the palace please," Meier asked the driver gently as he entered the unmarked, blacked out vehicle. The engine purred into action, and the Trivodnian head of state was off, a legion of bodyguards following behind him.

The President would like to pretend he didn't normally spend time with well known arms and drug smugglers, but the Trivodnian National Assembly was full of them, or at least those who had connections to them. What was worse about Duncan MacLeish was that he was also linked to the Zionist terrorism that had blighted Free State for decades. But the enemy of my enemy is my friend, as the bloodsoaked saying went, and with Trivodnia and Clan MacLeish both in the cross hairs of Windhaven, the two would stay friends - for now.

Meier hadn't told Duncan he'd let the Eiffellanders know the clan chief was hiding out in the Free State. Amstov and Trier were currently haggling over his future, with the Eiffellandian government wanting Duncan for his role in the kidnap of Princess Julian - something Meier knew for sure the Yiddish mafia had a role in. That coming out would be a national embarrassment, but if Trier offered the right price, or played hard ball and threatened to cut off all economic and military aid, then Duncan would soon find himself expendable.

 

[Rheinbund]

Restaurant Tempinska
Weissenfels, Eiffelland

Trier is the capital of Eiffelland, but the current Royal Family originates from Weissenfels. When King Lothar VII died in 1784, the Eiffellandian Crown went to his sister's son, who was the Duke of Sauerland and resided in Weissenfels. As a result, the Weissenfelser Stadtschloss and the Hofkirche in Weissenfels play an important role in the Eiffellandian constitution. At least once per month, the King resides in Weissenfels instead of Trier. Furthermore, members of the Royal House marry in the Hofkirche in Weissenfels, and the King of Eiffelland is crowned in Weissenfels as well. The Hofkirche, whose official name is Kathedrale Sankt Trinitatis, is also the episcopal church of the Bishop of Weissenfels.
The Weissenfelser Stadtschloss, the Hofkirche and the Zwinger (the orangery of the Weissenfelser Stadtschloss) are situated next to each other, and next to the opera building of Weissenfels, the Semperoper, around the Theaterplatz. But there is also another palace, next to the Weissenfelser Stadtschloss. This palace is called the Roggenbergpalais, and is connected with the Stadtschloss with a foot-bridge. There is also a footbridge between the Stadtschloss and the Hofkirche. The Semperoper was build in the 19th century in a neoclassistic style, the Stadtschloss is a mixture of renaissance and baroque, but the other three buildings are clearly baroque buildings.
The Roggenbergpalais was built in the 18th century for a countess, but nowadays it houses the five-star hotel Tempinska, with a luxurious restaurant that has some private rooms separated from the main room where people can discuss delicate matters while dining, and a luxurious café. The restaurant of this hotel was the place where Chancellor Von Seydewitz invited Robert Gunn for a dinner. He had rented one of the private rooms of the restaurant.

"Good evening Mr. Gunn," the Chancellor said when Robert Gunn was shown into the private room. "Welcome."

Both men seated themselves. The Chancellor ordered a dry white wine as a starter. Robert Gunn ordered one of the best Gunnish whiskies on the card. Tempinska appeared to have a large selection of the best Gunnish whiskies, next to a large selection of Caledonian whiskeys and of course a large selection of the best wines from all over the world.

During the dinner, Von Seydewitz started to talk. He didn't know how good Robert Gunn's German was, so he started in English. From his period as a businessman, he was used to Gunnish English, but his own English was Engellexian English.

"Mr. Gunn, I invited you here to discuss Duncan MacLeish. I know that Gunnland wants him, but you probably know that we want him as well. You want him for kidnapping Queen Julian, but we want him for his other criminal activities. As you know, we raided The Fishbowl near Bremen about three weeks ago to arrest him. Unfortunately, the man was gone. Meanwhile, we know where he is. Maybe you as well. We are negotiating about having him extradited. During these negotiations, it became clear that extraditing him to Gunnland is impossible. Therefore, I would like to ask you to leave Duncan MacLeish to us. We will serve as your instrument for revenge. Even without the kidnapping of Queen Julian, we have enough in our hands to have him sentenced to life imprisonment, i.e. to send him to the coal mines for the rest of his life."

 

[Gunnland]

Restaurant Tempinska
Weissenfels, Eiffelland

"Kommen Sie aus Bergenheim? Herr Professor Doktor Gunn, bitte." Robert's spoke with mock sharpness, but his eyes were playful and winking, telling Von Seydewitz that his Gunnish counterpart was not entirely offended. Here was the man who called His Majesty simply "King Albrecht," presuming to lecture the chancellor on points of formality, fully conscious of the irony.

There were many things Robert wanted to talk to the Eiffellandian chancellor about. Blaming Gunnland for Kadikistan's troop movements into Crotobaltislavonia, for one, even though the kingdom was only quietly permitting civilian supply lines. Julian's vendettas against Cardinal Stewart and Princess Rikke of Jydermark-Østveg, for two. It was unclear to Robert whether the Eiffellandian chancellor appreciated how difficult the Windhaven government's political position was, caught between a liberal queen, extreme right-wingers, and... but the subject now was Duncan MacLeish. Robert switched to English.

"To put an arrest warrant out for Duncan MacLeish would mean civil war in Gunnland. I had to stress this matter to Queen Julian. He is a billionaire captain of industry, he is powerful, and most importantly he is the thegn of an armigerous clan. The MacLeish doesn't have as many loyal warriors as I do." Robert smiled and pushed his thick black glasses up his nose. It was humorous, he knew, a university professor talking about loyal retainers. "If you arrest him, we shall have to make strongly worded diplomatic protests. But of course, you will be solving us many problems, and Queen Julian and I shall be very grateful. It will take the MacLeish by surprise. His heirs are rotting in a Pelasgian prison. To decapitate the MacLeishes would bring stability to our beleaguered country."

 

[Rheinbund]

Restaurant Tempinska
Weissenfels, Eiffelland

"A professor? Ach du Schande. I'm awfully sorry about that, Professor Gunn. Due to the important role in Gunnish politics you currently have, I had totally forgotten that you are a Professor. Please accept my apologies," Von Seydewitz said.

The Government of Eiffelland was in a difficult position as well. On the one hand, the Kadikistani government falsely accusing the Trier Concord of igniting the Christmas Coup. On the other hand, the rest of the world calling the Trier Concord a lame duck for not intervening in Crotobaltislavonia while deliberately ignoring the fact that no Trier Concord country bordered Crotobaltislavonia so that the Trier Concord did not have the possibility to intervene without asking other countries for permission to send troops through their territories. Then the March on Trier basically destroyed the electoral position of the Christiandemocrats and Market Liberals. Currently the Christiandemocrats dominated the Staatstag with one-third of the seats, but the opinion polls forecast a reduction to one-fifth of the seats. It was even questionable if the CDV would remain the largest fraction. This did have consequences for how the Eiffellandian government was currently functioning. Normally the fact that Robert Gunn was a professor would not have escaped Von Seydewitz's mind.

"But if I understand you correctly, arresting Duncan MacLeish will solve two problems: It will stabilise Gunnland and it will inflict a major blow to drugs and humans trafficking. I completely understand that you will have to issue a diplomatic protest when we arrest him. Even if he is the thegn of an armigerous clan, he is a clan thegn. But arresting him will serve us both on the long term. Thank you for that.," Von Seydewitz said.

Of course the way the Kadikistani troops arrived in Crotobaltislavonia was a matter to Von Seydewitz as well, but it was already clear to him that whichever country let those troops pass did not completely voluntarily do so. This had happened. Now it was important that something like that would not happen again. Von Seydewitz knew that he had reacted in quite a harsh way, so he decided to let Gunn put up that issue on the table if he wanted to.

 

[Gunnland]

Restaurant Tempinska
Weissenfels, Eiffelland

"My intelligence suggests that the MacLeish will quit Trivodnia for Engellex in the coming weeks. I don't know if there are direct flights. But 15AR will send regular briefs via our foreign ministries."

Robert raised his eyebrows tellingly.

"There is another matter. Of course you know that we are consolidating a northern defense alliance with Geotri, so that Kadikistan won't be able to bully Elben again. So I won't bother troubling you about the fact you've run around critiquing Gunnland for allowing Kadikistani troops through, when you know well they went via the Elbener air bridge. I assume you have your reasons. We are not a popular regime, I'm sure, in your... tolerant society." Robert allowed himself to roll his eyes a little.

"The matter is actually about Queen Julian. Prince Ludwig was a good influence upon her, but it is probably best that their friendship cools off now. The problem is that her attendants are a group of radical young women who goad her to take action against the Church, against the Jutes, against the MacLeish, against our government. She needs some good political influences, people who will teach her patience and calm. And to cut the first head of Medusa off, I am going to need a temporary visa glitch for Adelaide MacLeod Elmert, so that she has to leave Eiffelland in the next two weeks for a short period."

Robert Gunn took a flash drive out of his sportcoat pocket and slid it across the table to the Eiffellandian chancellor.

 

[Polesia]

Presidential Palace
Amstov
Trivodnia

A newly reappointed External Affairs minister Vladimir Pinski stood opposite the President, an awkward silence filling the room. Pinski had been one of the louder critics of Lauterpacht's approach to Kadikistan during the Christmas Crisis, and cried presidential overreach when he promised a more active role in foreign policy to keep the regional peace in the face of an increasingly hawkish Social Democratic Alliance. Now the two men would have to work together, with the President's attempt at a second election struck down by the Supreme Court, and the fringes of Gallo-Germania still a tinder box.

"You know Vladimir I was very much against another vote but as President I answer only to the Trivodnian people and they were very clear in-" Meier began, mumbling as he spoke, keen to avoid eye contact with Vladimir.

"History, Your Excellency," the Minister interrupted, his face stretched by a grin of fake politeness.

"They're teaching this in schools already?" The President joked half-heartedly, Vladimir obliging with a slight chortle.

A few moments passed.

"You invited me to discuss Eifdelland?"

"Oh yes of course." The last few months had taken their toll on the President, who was ageing - fast. Staffers quietly murmured about Meier's growing forgetfulness, but noone dared confront the man widely seen as having dragged Trivodnia back from the brink.

"Tier knows Duncan MacLeish is here and they want him."

"Oh."

The Gunnish clan chief was liked by neither man but both saw his potential use, and knew important he was to the Free State's economy, legal and illegal.

"And?"

"I'm delaying and for now the Eiffellanders offer carrots instead of sticks," the President sighed, "yet if they stamp their feet we'll have to give in."

"That might worry some other residents of the Polesian coast," sniggered Vladimir, referring to the countless other criminals who had a bolthole in Trivodnia, who liked the Free State's 'no questions asked' banking system and opaque land registry.

"Quite," Meier mourned, never not disappointed by the corruption of his home country.

Another pause.

"The other option is to gently encourage him to Engellex, where he also has commercial interests," Meier restarted, realising he'd lost himself again.

Vladimir grimaced. He couldn't decide what was worse: selling drugs and guns or literal human slaves.

 

[Rheinbund]

Restaurant Tempinska
Weissenfels, Eiffelland

“To Engellex, you say,” Von Seydewitz said. “It is a pity that they won’t fly over Eiffelland in that case; otherwise we could force the plane to land. But maybe I can arrange something with the Burgundians. Or we can try to turn Duncan MacLeish into the victim of an accident. I can tell you that the Staatsschutz is eager to let something happen to him. They are generally not friendly towards murderers of Staatsschutz agents, and generally not friendly towards people ordering such murders, either.”

Von Seydewitz took a sip of his wine. Then he continued. “We would definitely be happy about any information that 15AR has regarding Duncan MacLeish. Of course the Staatsschutz will return the favour.”

He immediately continued about Kadikistan. “For Gallogermania’s big neighbour, I am happy to hear that you also realise that Kadikistan is a menace. I would be very happy if the Trier Concord would cooperate with your military alliance with Geotri in order to face the Rurikgrad Pact. I also have to say that my outburst of a month ago was not related to trying to score through a lack of popularity of the Gunnish government here in Eiffelland. Actually, Gunnland is not really unpopular in Eiffelland. We generally realise that Gunnishmen are a different type of people than Eiffellandians. Indeed, we are very tolerant in certain matters, but we will never try to impose that tolerance upon other countries. And we value in Gunnland that it does not try to impose the Gunnish lifestyle upon Eiffelland.”

Von Seydewitz took a bite of his fried pork. Then he continued.

“My outburst was more related to frustration about the whole situation: On the one hand Chancellor Fuchs from Carinthia-Harkány who blamed us for not intervening in Crotobaltislavonia (and forgetting that Kadikistan had already created facts before we could intervene), on the other hand Kadikistan continuously accusing us for supporting Radek (which we did not do), and then the March on Trier, which is currently resulting in heavy electoral losses for my own party and the FDV while the Volksunion is gaining seats. And indeed, I was absolutely not happy about the fact that Kadikistani troops emerged in Crotobaltislavonia while both countries don’t share a border, because that meant that Kadikistan transported its troops through other countries. There are several stories about how this happened. One of them is indeed that Elben allowed the troops to pass in return for the release of Elbenese citizens (or maybe because Kadikistan threatened to invade the country); another one is that Kadikistan used the trade route between Milesia and Crotobaltislavonia through Gunnland. When that would be the case, I understand why Gunnland allows the trade between Milesia and Crotobaltislavonia passes over Gunnish soil, but it is needed that that trade is checked. Especially when a country like Kadikistan is involved. In any case, this has happened, and I think this did not happen as a result of voluntarily supporting Kadikistan but as a result of either having to give in on threats or being too trustful. From my point of view, there are no hard feelings towards Gunnland and Elben regarding this. What we need to do now, is find a way so that this does not happen again. We are willing to support in that.”

After having taken a sip of his water, he continued. “I don’t think that you have to be concerned about Prince Ludwig’s influence on Queen Julian. Indeed, Prince Ludwig is gay, but he is not an activist. He gives an example of a tolerant lifestyle, but he leaves the choice to follow that example or not. If he has an influence on Queen Julian, then rather a moderating one. Exactly Prince Ludwig could give an example of patience and calm. But I think that at least during the coming months he will have less contact with Queen Julian, due to romantic reasons. For giving a temporary visa glitch to Adelaide McLeod Elmert, I will arrange for that. Thank you for the memory stick. Could you please tell me what I will see on it?”

 

[Gunnland]

Restaurant Tempinska
Weissenfels, Eiffelland

"Miss Elmert was a former... associate of the MacLeish before she became a confidant of Her Majesty. And this..." Robert held up the USB drive. "...is a file on her that will throw sand in any fuss that Schloss Klippenstein wants to make about the visa glitch, as you have nicely called it. You may want to bring her in for a statement to build your human-trafficking case against Duncan. Just don't mention my name, if you want to get anything out of her."

Robert was more relaxed now. The tête-à-tête had been less tense than he might have expected. Von Seydewitz had made some strange accusations, but maybe the Eiffellandian reputation for level-headedness was well deserved. But maybe it's mad to be the sane man in a mad world, the professor-turned-clan chief thought.

"I am pleased to hear that anti-Gunnish sentiment is not running high in Eiffelland. I wish I could say the same about anti-Eiffellandian sentiment in Gunnland. Our people sense that the 'southerners' have gotten rich and abandoned them, that Windhaven and Eschenbach are the last men standing in defense of Christian civilization, in defense of the ancient faith and its teachings." Robert waved his hand. "I know it's all more complicated than that, but it puts my friends and me in a difficult position politically. We must be vigilant about the communist threat without appearing to sing Trier's tune. So it will be best to keep our relations warm but informal. The sooner Queen Julian realizes this is how the game must be played, the more likely she will have a long reign, and a long life."

 

[Rheinbund]

Von Seydewitz's face set. Not because of what the Professor told about Gunnish sentiments towards Eiffelland, but because of Miss Elmert being a former associate of the MacLeish. He considered that a security problem. How could the Gunnish let somebody who was in the MacLeish clanonce, exactly the clan that orchestrated Queen Julian's kidnapping, and exactly the enemy clan of Clan Gunn, come so close to Queen Julian? OK, maybe Miss Elmert regretted that she ever cooperated with the MacLeish, but then give her a job somewhere else! It seemed like Clan Gunn could learn a lot from the Eiffellandians regarding security. But that was something Von Seydewitz wouldn't say.

"A former associate of the MacLeish," he said. "How certain can we be that this lady is a former associate of the MacLeish? Wouldn't it be better if she is permanently removed from Schloss Klippenstein and gets a job somewhere else? Anyway, thank you for this memory stick. We will use it effectively, both for strengthening the case against Duncan MacLeish, and for revoking Miss Elmert's visa. If you wish, we can revoke it for an indefinite period of time instead of a few months or a couple of weeks. To be very honest, I would prefer to get this lady out of Schloss Klippenstein already tonight. I don't like the idea of a regicide on Eiffellandian soil."

Then he took a sip of his water, before he continued talking.

"I understand the Gunnish sentiments regarding Eiffelland, from a Gunnish point of view. The funny thing is, that the vast majority of the Eiffellandians still believe in God. Therefore, many Catholic traditions are still very important in Eiffelland. We only interpret certain teachings from the Bible in a more liberal way, and indeed we deviate from Catholics in other countries to a large extent with respect to that. Luckily, we realise that. Therefore, we will never impose our interpretations of the Bible to people from other countries, and it is understandable to us that people from Gunnland and Elben look at us with some suspicion. I totally agree with you that the Gunnish government must not seem to be Eiffelland's lapdog. To be honest, I consider it close to impossible that a Gunnishman will ever become someone's lapdog, but that's another story. Let's indeed keep our relations warm and informal."

 

[Gunnland]

Restaurant Tempinska
Weissenfels, Eiffelland

Robert waved his hand and laughed at the chancellor's alarm. But the pauses in his lightly accented speech suggested that he was measuring every word carefully. "No, Miss Elmert was never a... how to put this... voluntary associate of the MacLeish. We have reason to believe that..." The Gunn paused, then thought it best not to reveal that Julian's mother, Queen Deoiridh was still alive and living with the MacLeish under the name 'Lady Beth Cameron Cawdor.' At some level of Eiffellandian intelligence, they probably knew this. Reveal too much, and he would end up hinting that King Joachas also survived that 2015 plane crash. And that Robert Gunn himself had been the one to plant Adelaide Elmert with 'Lady Cawdor.' Things got complicated quickly.

"Anyway, Adelaide quit the employ of the MacLeish and his disfigured consort in an acrimonious manner. Queen Julian rescued her, in a way. Julian sees her little band of young ladies at Schloss Klippenstein as survivors of the Gunnish patriarchy, I realize. And to some extent this is true. But it leads her to deal a bit... unrealistically with our government. I think if I can have a word with Adelaide, this will help."

 

[Rheinbund]

Restaurant Tempinska
Weissenfels, Eiffelland

The Staatsschutz did know that there was something fishy with the plane crash that killed King Josias. They didn't know for sure that Lady Beth Cameron Cawdor was in fact Queen Deoiridh though. They had seen the similarities between Lady Cawdor and Queen Deoiridh, and they had some suspicions, quite a lot of suspicions in fact, but they were not certain about this. Chancellor Von Seydewitz was never informed about these suspicions.
It never came to the mind of the Staatsschutz agents that King Josias was still alive, either. Indeed, the Queen-Dowager had told in the hospital that King Josias was still alive, but Dr. McAllister, her psychiatrist, considered that a delusion instead of a reflection of the truth. After the Queen-Dowager recovered, she never mentioned this again. Neither Dr. McAllister nor Dr. Habil. Von Bernrode thought of reporting this to the Staatsschutz or the police.

"OK, it is a relief that Miss Elmert is not a threat to the Queen," Von Seydewitz said. "Then indeed the problem remains that Queen Julian wants to reform too much too fast, and that she doesn't realise that she has to convince the people of the necessity of her reforms first. But if she and the people she surrounds herself with consider themselves survivors of the Gunnish patriarchy, as you phrase it, I can understand that they are a bit radical." He took a pause to think. Then he continued.

"I think it would be best if Eiffelland considers Queen Julian's wish to reform as much as possible as soon as possible and the wish of a large part of Gunnish society to keep things as they are an internal matter of the Kingdom of Gunnland. It will not help Queen Julian's cause if we officially choose a side, whichever that side will be. And then indeed maybe it would be better if the friendship of Prince Ludwig and Queen Julian cools down a bit. Queen Julian's cause will not be helped if she has cordial relations with somebody the world knows to be gay."

He took a bite of his mashed potatoes. Then he continued.

"Do you want me to wait with initiating visa problems for Miss Elmert until we know the outcome of your word with her?"

He took a sip of his water before he continued.

"There is one other matter I would like to discuss. What is your opinion regarding the Queen's attempts to put her little brother on the Throne of Jydermark-Østveg? Officially Eiffelland considers this an internal matter for Gunnland and Jydermark-Østveg, but unofficially I don't think it is a wise move. Prince Joachas is only five years old. He is a child. Of course there will be a regent who will take over his responsibilities until he can reign himself, but even then you shouldn't make a child King of a country of which a large group of its inhabitants don't want him to be the King. Apart from that, Queen Julian's move mainly caused instability in Jydermark-Østveg."

 

[Gunnland]

Restaurant Tempinska
Weissenfels, Eiffelland

"I leave tomorrow for Hallein, Matthias. A visa glitch will allow me to have a word with Miss Elmert about her influence on Queen Julian, and it will make her think twice about pinning her hopes on Eiffellandian pressure to liberalize Gunnland. She will either conclude it is a simple error, or a complex error owing to her former association with Lloyd and MacLeish General Maritime Group."

Robert Gunn swirled the golden liquid. It was the Glenwillie special export blended whisky, Alexander Gunn's, distributed in Eiffelland but not in Gunnland. The waiter had been surprised to hear a Gunnish accent make the order. A little soulless, but not bad tasting. Robert wanted to try the Ardmar blend, Silas Keith's, but couldn't bring himself to order a Keith whisky. So instead he had ordered a second, then a third whisky. Too mild, he thought after a while, realizing that he was unable to get the smell of smoke and peat on his wet mustache. But the spirit had done its work. Robert's confidence -- some said the overconfidence of a man who imagined himself to be a philosopher-king manipulating the politics of Gunnland like a chessboard -- was on full display: predicting Adelaide's decision tree into the future, calling his noble host by his first name, even presuming to read Von Seydewitz's mind: "While I am not much of a drinker myself, I must remember these Gunnish fellows have a higher alcohol tolerance..." But when Jydermark-Østveg came up he looked grave. He took off his horn-rimmed glasses and rubbed deep- and close-set eyes.

"It's one thing for them to fuck each other with icicles or whatever they do up there, but 'nemo me impune lacessit.' You can't dispossess Clan Gunn of what is rightfully ours and not expect consequences. As clan chief, I have tens of thousands of young men who would rather live by the sword than work with the lathe, who since they are children dream of covering themselves in glory by killing Keiths and dying for clan and queen. These idiotic Jute women are stirring up a bees' nest in Gunnland and won't even answer our diplomatic cables to negotiate a solution!"

Robert threw back the glass of whisky in a violent motion. It failed to burn down his esophagus adequately. He signaled the waiter for a ten-year Glenwillie. That will do it.

"I face a dilemma. My clan wants war, the young warriors are anxious that we have lost our edge. Our clan allies and don't want war; they think we are rich and vain, ready to fight for a liberal queen living in Eiffelland who wants the Gunns to be like the royal houses of Europe, occupying thrones of constitutional monarchies. The Gunnish liberals may love the queen, but have no appetite for war. So I tried to convince Queen Julian not to press the matter. The whole world is a hostile conspiracy in the eyes of our orphan queen. Gunnland will not declare war on Jydermark-Østveg. Even with our allies behind us, I doubt that we have the power-projection capability to inflict much damage. And with the looming threat from the East, we cannot afford to send men and materiel west."

The ten-year arrived. Robert pulled a pipe from his herringbone tweed jacket.

"Adelaide is my last hope of influencing Julian, so I need her in Windhaven. If things go on as they are now, I shall try to restrain the young death-seeking Gunn warriors. But some will disobey. I am an effete university professor, after all, what do I know of death and sacrifice? There will be what I believe you call terrorist incidents. I shall lack what you call the political capital to punish those supporting terrorism. Because of the close relations between Clan Gunn and the Windhaven government, we shall be called state-supporters of terrorism. Perhaps rightly so. It is easy to see how a real shooting war could result from that."

Robert leaned forward and spoke softly.

"So what I need you to do, Matthias, is put some serious fucking pressure on Gøternhaven to come to the table and negotiate with us. The Austwegians support him. Giving a six-year-old a purely ceremonial role in that frozen fucking snowglobe will prevent lives from being lost for stupid reasons. I had Steve Larkin suggest a marriage of the royal lines, Princess Rikke's regency, anything. They would like to pretend like this is a normal international dispute, but they don't realize I have to deal with a bunch of bloodthirsty maniacs, anxious at how the world is changing, all het up about the honor of their clan."

 

[Rheinbund]

My goodness, when I would drink that much whisky in such a high pace, I wouldn’t trust my senses any more, Von Seydewitz thought, completely in line with the Eiffellandian obsession to keep the situation under control and only take “responsible” risks. He had drunk only one glass of wine as company for the red meat. After that, he had switched to water.
He found himself in a difficult position. He completely understood Gunn’s position, but he would never be able to explain to the people of Eiffelland why he would support transporting a five‑year‑old boy to a country he has never seen and put him on the throne there. He knew that that was normal practice among Royal Families until the first half of the 20th century, but the world had changed. At least the part of the world Eiffelland was situated in. Robert Gunn had to deal with a part of the world that hadn’t changed (or had undergone only a very limited amount of change), but Von Seydewitz had to deal with a part of the world that had changed to a large extent since 1950. He would never be able to explain that the Gunnish claims to the throne of Jydermark-Østveg were legitimate. The Eiffellandian public opinion would favour rapidly changing the law so that “these idiotic Jute women” could accede to the throne.
Apart from that, the Chancellor considered the opinion in Jydermark-Østveg “too close to call”. Maybe the Austvegians favoured Prince Joachas, but what about the Jute? Putting Prince Joachas on the Throne of Jydermark-Østveg would satisfy the warriors of Clan Gunn, but was not a guarantee for peace.
A third problem was the public opinion of the outside world. How would Eiffelland taking a stance in the situation in Jydermark-Østveg be seen? As an attempt to meddle in the affairs of another country? As imperialism? Maybe the Jute were as fanatic as the Clan Gunn’s warriors, and then favouring Prince Joachas could lead to terrorist attacks in Eiffelland. Sending troops to Jydermark-Østveg was completely out of the question; that could theoretically lead to a war with Caledonia, and maybe also with Kadikistan that would love to take advantage of a militarily weakened Eiffelland or an Eiffelland that was militarily involved somewhere else.

“Professor Gunn, the situation in Jydermark-Østveg is too complex to promise our support here and now. I understand the problems you face. I also understand the legal claims to the Throne of Jydermark-Østveg that Prince Joachas has. But I myself govern a country filled with the same type of liberals that you are facing in Gunnland. Not even the PCL would favour Eiffelland supporting Prince Joachas in this matter,” Von Seydewitz said. He pronounced the abbreviation PCL [1] in the German way, so like “pay tsay el”.

He took a sip of his water, and continued.

“Maybe the Volksunion would support Prince Joachas, but I advice you to stay far away from that murderous far‑right scum. The only thing that withholds me from sending the members and voters of that party with blood lust and idiocies in its party programme to the coal mines is, that it would go against the principles behind the parliamentary democracy, so unfortunately I have to face those scumbags in the parliament and listen to the verbal drivel they excrete from time to time. Well, I did send the GEL [2] to the coal mines, and I’m proud of that.”

He took another sip of his water, and continued.

“But back to the topics at hand. Like I said, I cannot promise my support for Prince Joachas’s claim to the throne here and now. I have to think this over and discuss it with the King and the ministers. For the temporary visa glitch for Miss Elmert, I will arrange for it. She will be in Windhaven for the coming four weeks. Or longer if needed.”


OOC: Notes:

[1] PCL = Partei für das Christliche Leben. It stands for a very orthodox Christian life style. Cardinal Stewart and Cardinal Taft would favour this party, although the PCL is clearly not antisemitic, and clearly more humble than those two Cardinals.
[2] GEL = Gotisch‑Eiffelländische Liga, a violent far right extraparliamentary organisation that was dismantled three years ago.