“But I’m not going to just take it. If we—Montival—win this war, I promise here and now, and I’ll repeat it whenever anyone asks, that there will be real elections within six months. Not ‘if circumstances permit’ or ‘when the emergency is over’ because circumstances are never right and life is one fucking emergency after another. Six months, come flood, war or forest fire. And everyone can pick whoever the hell they please, every four or six years or whatever we decide. If it’s me, fine. And we can work out a real constitution, because the old one wasn’t made with this world in mind and most of the old States don’t exist anymore. Folks changed when the world Changed, too.”

“And if they tell you and your new friends to take a hike?”

Fred smiled grimly. “If the people—which includes women and refugees—want someone else, well, Hell, I can live with it. I won’t starve and I’m not afraid of working for a living, and neither is my wife . . . this is her, Virginia Thurston, by the way. She comes from southeast of us, east of the Rockies on the High Plains. The CUT ran her out of her home; they’re doing their job there too, and their job is being evil sons of bitches.”

Rudi cut in: “And sure, I’ll give Fred a job like that if you don’t want him.” He snapped his fingers. “There aren’t so many good men who are true to their word about that I’d want to waste one. Carry on; just making that clear.”

The speaker nodded at him and turned back to Fred: “But you want us to be part of a kingdom?”

Fred nodded crisply in turn. “Yes. The High Kingdom of Montival. My Dad wanted to put America back together. He was a great man, he made a country out of chaos and plague and people terrified they were going to die. A lot of you wouldn’t be here today if he hadn’t been that sort of man. Hell, I wouldn’t. He went back into Seattle to get my mom out when he came back from the scouting mission to Idaho and found things had gone to shit. But by the end of his life, he hadn’t even put all of Idaho back together. Part of Idaho, and a few chunks of what used to be Washington State and Nevada. He didn’t want to make war on ordinary people to do it, either. I know Rudi Mackenzie . . . High King Artos, the redhead on the horse over there. We went all the way to the Atlantic together. Some real strange shit came down.”

“Tell us!” someone said. “The way that witch . . . she’s his mom, right? The way she put us all to sleep . . . and held off that Seeker asshole . . .”