Pollus seemed to take the answer for the truth, though he was still undoubtedly concerned about his sons possibly trying to overthrow him. He faced Prince Karl once more. “The child in her belly is your first, is it not?”
“Yes.” Karl seemed to relax a little. Mari was still hurt, but even if she was scarred, all he cared about was that the child survived.
The emperor nodded in understanding. “The first son a man fathers is a blessing.”
The emperor’s face turned into a snarl, as he reared back, and swiped the dark matter all the way through Mari’s neck. Her head tumbled to the floor of the laboratory, and rolled over to Theo’s feet. She hadn’t had time to even scream. Theo began to hyperventilate. Karl dropped to his knees, and placed his hands on the protruding stomach of Mari’s headless corpse. He was shaking. Blood pooled around his knees and soaked into his uniform.
Pollus put the glass orb and the tongs away. He ever so slowly removed his gloves, tugging on one fingertip at a time. Hanging them up, the emperor crossed back to Mari’s body. He used the tip of his boot to nudge her stomach a few times. “Since losing your mother wasn’t enough to teach you a lesson, perhaps this loss will remind you of your place. Pity. If she’d been carrying a girl, I might have let her live, but none of the princes are allowed to father sons until I am dead. Your child was dead the moment he was conceived. You just didn’t know it yet. Now, stand up. I have other matters that need my attention. It appears the rebellion that you professed to have been quashed is still amassing power. We need to put an end to it. And Karl, if I even hear a rumor that you have stepped out of line again, it won’t be a concubine whose blood is spilled on the floor.”
Showdown
The Relissarium Wars Space Opera Series, Book 11
One
Theo’s eyes were wide. His jaw fell open. Somewhere in the distance, he could hear someone screaming. It took him a moment to realize the sound was coming from him. The bonds restraining him in place were taut against his limbs. The straps bit into his skin hard enough to break the skin.
A green face appeared in front of Theo. After quickly checking to make sure the coast was clear, Jaedo stepped between him and Mari, trying to calm Theo down. Theo strained to look around the Josti. As terrible as it was to see Mari there, it was even more horrible to be denied being able to see her. “Move out of the way! Move! I can save her. I can save her!”
Jaedo pinned Theo down with two of his arms, before using his other two to start undoing the straps. “Hold still! I’m trying to get you free. Stop moving.”
As soon as the last strap was undone, Theo rushed to Mari’s side. His hands shook, as he picked up her head, and placed it near her neck. Her eyes were still open, staring into the void of death. There was no light in her eyes. Theo smoothed out her hair. “It’s okay, Mari. It’s going to be okay.” His trembling hands caressed the sides of her neck. He focused on healing her. His mind scrambled to remember the way the veins needed to flow, the way the muscles wrapped, the way the bones and airway needed to connect. Theo watched as her skin slowly started to knit back together. “That’s it! Come on. You don’t die like this. I’ve seen the future. You don’t die here. It’s going to be okay.”
Jaedo walked over, and placed one hand on Theo’s shoulder. “…Theo…”
A deranged smile lit up Theo’s face, as he turned to Jaedo. “It’s working! Look! I healed her. She’s going to be okay.”
“Theo…”
Turning back and staring at Mari’s face, Theo’s smile slowly faded. His eyes frantically searched her for any sign of life: a twitch, a shallow breath, the flutter of an eyelid, anything. “Why isn’t she breathing? I healed her! She should be breathing by now!”
Jaedo squeezed the hand that was resting on Theo’s shoulder. “Theo, she’s gone.”
“No. She can’t be! I’ve seen her in the future. She doesn’t die here.”
The Josti tried to be gentle with his words. “Any future you saw was not set in stone. The future is fluid and changing. Here and now, she is dead. There’s nothing you can do for her.”
Anger flared up inside of Theo like a blue flame. He lashed out. “I’ve already lost her once! I’ve already grieved her death once! I can’t go through that pain again. It almost destroyed me. I can’t let her down like this again. I refuse!”
“We need to go. We have to get out of here. Theo, she’s dead, but we aren’t. We can still escape.”
Cradling Mari in his arms, Theo jerked his shoulder of out of Jaedo’s grip. “I’m not leaving her. I have to keep trying. I gave up on her last time, and she was still alive. She was here the whole time, and I failed her. How can I do that again? How can you ask me to abandon her now? I just have to keep trying.”
Jaedo clenched his jaw. “If we stay here, they’ll kill us, too!”
“Then go!” Theo pointed to the door. His eyes flashed dangerously, daring Jaedo to try and make him move.
The Josti stood up straight, so that his form towered over Theo. “I will, because I know that the living can still be saved. You say that you can’t leave this woman here because you failed her in the past, but ask yourself this: while you waste your time mourning a corpse, what’s happening to Cierra?” Jaedo gave him a pointed look, and then turned on his heel. He marched resolutely out of the lab. Jaedo set off alone, to try and find her. Someone had to pull the team together, and with Theo a wreck, and Cierra being held captive somewhere, that duty fell to Jaedo.
Theo heard the Josti’s footsteps fade. He bowed his head over Mari. Tears streamed down his cheeks, and dripped off of his chin, falling to rest in her blood-matted hair. “I’m so sorry, Mari. You never deserved this. We may not have had a perfect life together, but you were a good woman. You took care of our children, you took care of me, and when you needed me, I wasn’t there.” Theo’s sorrow switched to anger. He looked, unfocused, at the wall. “Batumah, why did you take her from me again? Why give me the ability to heal others if I can’t even save her? Answer me! Bring her back! If I can’t save the people that matter to me, then what’s the point? Tell me that! Why should I be your chosen Hulaki, if you can’t even give me this? She doesn’t deserve this! Where are you, when your people need you? Where are you now, huh? Show yourself, you coward!”
Theo sat there in the sticky pool of his wife’s drying blood. Her body was clutched to his chest. Theo’s breaths were ragged with heartbreak. The sounds of his words rang in the air. He waited for a moment, nerves on edge, but the only answer was the hollow echo of his own voice.
Two
Makram marched down the hall of the palace. Two enhanced lasana blades swung by his side. He could feel the power coursing through them. The training grounds weren’t too far away, now. Soon, he would be able to truly unleash them, and see what they were capable of. A smirk twisted his lips up at the corners. The sounds of heavy boots moving at a brisk clip made his head swivel.
Pollus eyed his younger son warily. “A man with two blades is not a man who intends to shake hands.”
Prince Makramis bowed to his father. He placed the hilts of both blades in one hand, and pressed his fist to his chest. “Father, I was on my way to the training grounds. The smiths made a new type of blade, and I volunteered to test it for them.”
The emperor raised one eyebrow. Theo’s words about his sons attempting to stage a coup were only one of the many worries he was juggling. Karl had been clipped down to size a few moments ago. Perhaps it was time to find a way to do the same for Makramis. “How helpful of you. What a fine example of princely duty.”
Makram deepened his bow. “I do what I can for the empire.”
From the corner of his eye, the emperor saw Karl stiffen, as his brother received praise. Pollus could sense the tension between them. He could use that. “Karl, why don’t you go with your brother?”
Karl glanced at his father. His eyes were still filled with pain, reeling from the loss of his unborn child. “Sir?”
The e
mperor tilted his chin higher. “Maybe you could learn something about being a good son. Yes, the two of you will go to the training grounds together, and Karl, remember what will happen if you get out of line again.” Pollus let a thinly veiled smile linger on his lips. His comment would rile Karl up even more, and Makramis would soon be caught in the crosshairs of Karl’s pent-up anger. “Now, I have something, that I need to test, too. Trust me boys, mine will be much more fun.” He left. His cloak billowed behind him, as he walked briskly away from them.
Makram carefully handed one of the modified lasana blades to his older brother. “Don’t touch the blade. You’ll regret it if you do.”
Karl took the hilt of the sword. He noticed a silvery, cobweb like design spanning the length of the sword. Stretching his free hand over the dark blade, Karl felt his skin start to sizzle and burn even at the range of a few inches. He quickly pulled his palm away. “What did they do to it?”
Continuing on their path to the training grounds, Makram filled him in on the blade’s new properties. “They found a way to add little veins of dark matter through the blade without it shattering the blade or exploding. Relissarium is such a stable mineral on a molecular level, that it can keep its integrity if only a little bit of dark matter is used. It took them a while to find the right ratio. Too much dark matter, and the blade melts. Too little, and there’s no point.”
“How many do they have so far?”
“Only these two. The smiths wanted to have them tested before they invested more resources in something that might not work well. Relissarium and dark matter are both so rare that using them efficiently is a high priority. If they do what they are supposed to, I’ll have an unassailable advantage over the Yasta and the Carbonari.”
Karl’s attention snagged on Makram’s use of pronoun. “You mean we will have an advantage.”
“That’s what I said.”
Tightening his grip on the hilt, Karl corrected him. “No, you said ‘I’ll.’ Don’t be getting any ideas that you’ll be taking the throne, little brother. The people need to be ruled by an emperor who can act instead of just talk. You don’t have the constitution for it.”
Makram scoffed at him. “The hell I don’t. Who was the one that thought to put in the facial recognition software at the armories? If it wasn’t for me, we wouldn’t have two of the Carbonari here.”
That response was exactly what Karl was talking about. The two of them thought on very different levels. “If I had been the one undercover with them, they’d have already been dead. Let’s not forget, I was the one who ran the Yasta matriarch through with a blade. If it had been up to you, she would still be breathing. That’s the difference between us, Makram. I take action. You waste time trying to make friends and worrying about being liked. I don’t need the approval of others to know my worth. I don’t need my daddy to hold my hand and tell me I’m a good little boy.”
The doors to the training grounds were guarded by imperial soldiers. They quickly pulled open the heavy doors as the two princes approached. They walked inside. Makram ran his tongue across his teeth. “Maybe it’s not a waste of time. Think of it this way. Right now, who is father more likely to support as a successor? I mean, he did send you with me so you could learn something about being a good son.”
Karl snapped at the insult. He brought up his blade in a sweeping motion. Makram was ready for it. He blocked, and dodged to the side. The two of them circled one another, teeth bared. Karl’s hatred and anger was unleashed through his sword. Blow after blow rained down on Makram. It was all Makram could do to keep the larger man’s blade from connecting with him. Each strike sent up sparks. The sound of the enhanced blades clashing echoed around the coliseum style training grounds.
A snarl curled Karl’s lip. “Who would you rather have on your throne? A boy who can’t hold his own in combat, or a man who brought down the top five Yasta monasteries?”
“If you had just waited until the festival, the Carbonari would have acted, and we wouldn’t have been forced to show our hand! Your impatience blew our cover too soon!”
“Ha!” Karl laughed, while bringing down another powerful blow. “You’d have still been stuck in that dungeon if I hadn’t come along to clean up your mess. If you can’t even complete one mission, how do you think you can rule an entire empire?” The edge of his blade pressed against Makram’s shoulder.
Makram cried out in pain, and quickly freed himself from Karl’s attack. The dark matter left a bubbling burn on his skin. “How do you expect to lead an empire if you can’t even relate to your subjects,” Karl continued. “Your reign would only be secured as long as the people feared you.”
Karl tossed his blade from one hand to the other. “Ruling in fear seems to have worked pretty well for our father. Why wouldn’t it work for me? What do you plan to do, have the people follow you out of respect? How much do you think they’d respect you, if they knew you turned on the people who once thought you were their friend and teammate? How much do you think they’d trust you after that?”
Letting out a roar, Makram charged his older brother. “I did what I had to do to get the Carbonari!”
A malicious gleam sparkled in Karl’s eyes. “Oh, really? Is that why you were kissing that cyborg when no one else was around? That’s right. I saw your little video diary stored in that data sphere. You’re weak, and if you think the emperor would support any of his sons succeeding him while he’s still breathing, then not only are you weak, but you’re an idiot as well. You can’t even hold your own in a sparring match.”
Makram’s lips were a thin, vindictive line. “Did you ever find out what happened to Hojae, your little mole in my team?” Makram twirled his blade. “You know, I didn’t recognize him at first. It took me much longer to figure out who he was than I would like to admit. He was your slave boy when you were younger, wasn’t he?”
Karl’s face was like stone, trying not to give away any emotions. The Josti was the one person that he truly cared about. They’d had much more than just a servant and master relationship. Hojae was the only one that Karl trusted enough to send undercover to spy on his bother. The two of them had chosen the alias of Hojae together, before the Josti had gone joined Makram’s team in the Carbonari. A memory rose to the surface of his mind at the mention of Hojae. The most vivid recollection of his former servant that Karl had, was from the day his mother had been executed by the emperor. That was the day that he and Hojae had become practically inseparable. Back then, the Josti had gone by the name Perdurabo. For a moment, Makram and the training ground faded from Karl’s vision, and his mind was transported to another place and time.
A young Karl sat by himself in the courtyard. A Josti child sat beside him. Even though it was a sunny day, the young prince’s face was full of sadness. His eyes were red from crying. “I’m never going to see my mom again. I don’t have any family now.”
Tiny Perdurabo was swinging his legs off of the small outcropping of stone they were sitting on. “You have family. You still have your father and all your brothers.”
Karl wiped his runny nose on the back of his sleeve. “It’s not the same. They don’t care about me. I’m just another number to them.”
The little Josti smiled brightly. “Well, then I’ll be your family.”
“Huh?”
Perdurabo nodded quickly. “Yeah! I can be your family. Families take care of each other, don’t they? I already do your chores and everything, so we’re already practically family in that way, anyway.”
Karl smiled, touched by his servant boy’s words. “I think you’re my best friend.”
The heartwarming moment was shattered when a younger Makram waltzed up, and started taunting them. “Ew, gross! Do you smell that? It smells like gutter trash!”
Karl stood up. “Hey, leave him alone! He’s my friend!”
Makram laughed harshly at them. “Ha! Princes don’t have friends. You better be careful, or one day father will decide you’re more like a serv
ant than a prince. I bet he’ll kick you out before you even learn how to use a sword!”
Karl was jerked back to the present. Makram was smiling cruelly, making the light dance off his blade by tilting it slowly from side to side. “His name was different then, wasn’t it? Perdi? Perdur?”
“His name is Perdurabo.”
“I think you mean ‘was.’ I was the one that bested him. I watched his body plummet into the water, and I saw the orange blood swirl around him. Maybe you should have taught him to fight better.” Makram reared his arm back. He was about to drive the enhanced lasana blade towards his brother’s chest. Before he could do so, two guards rushed into the training grounds. Makram stopped mid stroke.
Karl recognized one of the men as one of his soldiers. “What is it?” He quickly pushed his anger down. There would be time to avenge Perdurabo after he, Karl, had become emperor. The second guard that entered the training grounds was under Makram’s command. Karl kept a watchful eye on them both.
The first guard paused to catch his breath. “There was news about the fleet around Relisse.”
Makram lowered his blade. He addressed his soldier. “Sanders, what happened?”
Sanders bowed to his prince. “They were attacked. Most of the ships have been destroyed. We have reason to believe that the Yasta have taken control of the mine.”
Karl refrained from running the officer through with his blade. “How could you let that happen? There were two carriers filled with fighters! The Yasta are in shambles after the monastery attacks. There’s no way they should have been able to take over a lemonade stand, let alone a mining operation protected by the imperial fleet!”
Makram puffed up his chest. “Leave us. Await further instructions.”
The two men bowed to the princes before turning and leaving the training grounds. Karl hurled his blade towards the side of the arena, off to his right. It embedded itself in the stone, halfway up to the hilt. “It wasn’t supposed to happen like that. We need that Relissarium.”
The Relissarium Wars Omnibus Page 59
