of fruit and vegetables. “Menu for approval!”
Maud stared at the arrangement. “Take out all of kavla – the tachi are
allergic. Make sure the honey doesn’t contain any kavla either.” She
waved her fingers at the tablet, scrolling through the
pictures. “No. None of these make any sense. The tikk igi dishes need
to have a pattern. You can’t just put a bunch of pretty fruit randomly on
a platter. There must be a progression of taste or color, ideally both. A
circular arrangement would start with sour fruit on the edge and then
progressively get sweeter toward the center. Or, you start with purple
berries and work your way through a spectrum to yellows. This is a
haphazard mess. Take this back, bring me an updated menu.”
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He took the tablet and broke into a sprint.
“The chairs are not adjustable!” Lisoun reported.
“Get me a station engineer.” Maud looked at the crowd. “Next!”
Konstana thrust herself into Maud’s view. They hadn’t seen each other
since the Communal. The red-haired knight’s arm didn’t show any signs
of ever being broken.
“I’m your security chief,” she said.
She had a security chief. “How many people do we have?”
“Three squads, sixty knights total, but they are only letting me take six.
They expect me to secure thirty-eight aliens with six vampires.”
Maud raised her eyebrows. “Is that a problem?”
Konstana scoffed. “Of course not. But I do need to know how they are
getting to the station. Are we transporting them or are they transporting
themselves? And if they are transporting themselves, are we going to let
them dock or are they shuttling over via their shuttles or via ours?”
“What does Sergeant-at-Arms say?”
“He said to ask you.”
Thank you, Lord Soren. “Get battle station security chief on the line and
figure out if a non-regulation shuttle can even dock there. Let me know
what you find out.”
Lisoun pushed her way into the circle. She grasped Maud’s arm and half
-guided, half-propelled her behind a podium next to her desk where a
large screen presented her with a tough looking female vampire standing
in a large hall. The smooth black floor split, a glossy onyx contraption
spiraled out of it and unfolded into a round table ringed by eight sojourn
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style chairs. The chairs were big, rectangular, and blocky. The worst-case
scenario.
“How wide are those chair backs at the seat?” Maud asked.
“Twenty lots,” the engineer reported, which her implant helpfully
converted into twenty-eight inches. Right.
“I need you to cut a hole in the back of the chair at the seat level, twenty-
four inches wide and eight inches tall.”
The engineer stared at her, incredulous. “You want me to deface the an-
alloy chairs?”
“Yes.” She glanced at Lisoun. “I need the sitting chart?”
A diagram popped out on side screen. Oh Universe, what in the world…
“This is wrong,” she told Lisoun. “We cannot put the royal in the back of
the hall.”
“Lord Soren said…”
“Go back to Lord Soren and ask him if he would like to have a war with
the Tachi Protectorate. Lady Dil’ki is not just a scientist, she is a member
of the royal house. She and the Nuan Cee have to be seated in the
front. This needs to be reworked.”
Lisoun took off.
“These chairs are a marvel of function and durability,” the engineer
growled. “The an-alloy is nearly indestructible.”
“I have…” she checked her personal unit. “Thirty-eight aliens, of which
twenty-two are too small to sit in these chairs and the others have
vestigial appendages which prevent them from sitting at all.”
“These chairs were never designed for aliens!”
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“Well, now they have to accommodate some, so find a way to destruct
indestructible chairs. I will send over an updated sitting chart. Every
chair marked tachi must have a hole. Every chair marked lees must be
adjusted for a being of three to four feet in height.”
The engineer bared her fangs. “On whose authority?”
“On my authority. I’m the Maven. Look at it as a challenge.”
The engineer opened her mouth.
Maud loaded steel into her voice. “When these aliens go off into the
Galaxy, they will praise House Krahr’s hospitality instead of telling the
Universe that the elite of vampire engineering couldn’t solve a trivial
problem of the appropriate seating. We will not embarrass
ourselves. Have I made myself clear?”
“Yes, my lady.”
“I see you are settling into your role,” a familiar voice said.
Maud raised her head from the screen. “Lord Erast?”
The Scribe nodded at her and passed her a tablet. “The Preceptor would
like you to make the necessary edits. She wishes to deliver the
document to the parties in question as soon as possible.”
Maud raised the tablet. A green spark of the scanner flashed at her. The
contents were locked to her. The screen flared into life.
Mutual Cooperation Pact.
The following Articles are to outline the involvement and voluntary
participation of Clan Nuan and Tachi Protectorate…
Oh no. “This won’t work.”
“What’s wrong with it?” the Scribe asked.
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“It says involvement.”
“Involvement is a perfectly good word.”
“We’re dealing with the lees. It’s like making a deal with…” the devil. She
grappled with her knowledge of ancient sagas, looking for a
reference. “Yarlas the Cunning.”
Lord Erast raised his eyebrows.
“If we leave any gap, any hint at alternative interpretation, they will drive
a spacecruiser through it. We have to make this super simple. Short clear
sentences. No ambiguity at all or we will end up explaining to Lady
Ilemina why the lees now own the station and half of the planet. This will
require an extensive edit.”
She stared at the gathering. Six vampires. If she could cull this to a
reasonable number, she could devote all of her attention to editing the
articles.
“Everyone with immediate need step forward. Everyone whose issues
can wait see me this evening.”
The six vampires in front of her took a step forward in unison.
It was going to be a long day.
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Chapter 17 Part 2
November 9, 2018 by Ilona 523 Comments
Maud stood in the middle of the Officer Hall and watched the entrance
ceremony unfold on a large screen. The banquet room, a large space
meant to accommodate five hundred diners, spread before her, an
expanse of smooth onyx-black floor punctuated by the rosettes of tables
and chairs made of the same glossy black. Crimson banners of House
Krahr stretched along the walls, the black cat-like predator on them
snarling to remind the gathering in whose house they were about to
dine.
The blast shields of the massive battle station were down, and the far
side of
the hall was all window, the universe glittering beyond, with the
turquoise and blue orb of the planet rising slowly to the right. A spray of
radiant stars winked from beyond, the Krahr Homeworld Fleet displayed
for the guests in a show of power and strength.
A dais had been raised in center, with the windows as the backdrop, and
in the middle of it a small vala tree spread its gnarled black branches, its
red leaves glowing against the cosmos, at once fragile and indomitable,
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a testament to the power of life that flourished given the slightest
chance.
Both Kozar and Serak were already seated, taking up the center swath of
the tables. The tachi, in the newly butchered chairs, and the lees were
also seated, the tachi on the left, and the lees on the right, with the heads
of both delegation near the dais. House Krahr would take the back rows
of the tables. If either Kozor of Serak recognized that they were being
boxed in, they could do nothing about it.
She had spoken to both factions about what to expect and offered
protective detail for the wedding. Both declined.
“But why won’t the Krahr simply say no?” Dil’ki had asked her as they
strolled through the Maven’s gardens. “It would avoid the loss of life.”
“It’s about face,” Nuan Cee had said, drawing his paw over his
muzzle. “One must never lose it.”
“It’s a challenge,” Maud had explained. “Kozor and Serak hope to
accomplish an incredible feat, worthy of the old sagas. The response
from the Krahr must be equally heroic. They will reject any number
advantage.”
“They truly believe themselves to be that good?” Dil’ki had asked.
“Yes,” Maud had told her.
The royal sat quietly now, clad in diaphanous veils and glowing jewelry
of her kind. Her warriors waited around her, all a saturated even
color. Despite what was coming, the tachi were at ease.
At the other side of the hall, Clan Nuan in their best gold and jewels, all
wearing the soft silky aprons chattered and giggled without a care in the
world.
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The Herald announced Ilemina and Otubar. The hosts entered the hall
last, according to tradition, and Ilemina and Otubar walked to their table,
Ilemina elegant in her ornate armor and Otubar stalking next to her like
a hulking krahr in a bad mood, while the Herald barked out their titles:
Supreme Predator, Killer, Destroyer, Marauder, Slayer…
Maud wished with all her heart that she could hug Helen again. She left
her on the planet. The battle station was no place for a child, especially
if things would proceed as expected. She had to do what she did best:
survive. Eliminate the threat and go back, to her daughter, her future
husband, and her new home.
Easier said than done.
Arland approached. She felt his presence rather than saw him and
turned. He towered above her in full syn-armor with a crimson cloak that
made him seem even more enormous. His blood mace rested on his
hip. He’d pulled his long blond hair from his face and secured it at the
nape of his neck, and his features looked carved from granite, his blue
eyes hard and cold. A Marshal in every sense of the word, meant to
inspire fear.
He held out his arm to her. “Ready, my love?”
“Yes.” She put her hand on his wrist, her fingers light as a feather.
They entered the long narrow hallway leading to the banquet hall,
moving in-step.
Ahead the microphone-enhanced voice of the Herald recited their titles,
booming through the room.
“Arland Rotburtar Lord Gabrian, 28th Heir of Krahr, Marshal of his House,
Bloodmace, Bone Crusher, Ravager of Nexus, Destroyer of the World
Killer, Kill count of two hundred and twenty-four.”
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Maud caught their reflection in the polished walls. In it a strange woman
glided next to Arland, wearing black armor and carrying a blood sword,
a narrow crimson sash of the Maven wrapped around her left shoulder,
crossing over her collar bone and draping over her right shoulder to trail
behind her to the floor. She was graceful and strong, and walked next to
a vampire prince like she belonged there.
A giddy, electric anticipation surged through her. They were walking to
a fight. Finally, an end to all the pressure. One way or the other, it would
be decided. Her lips threatened to curve into a smile, and she forced an
arrogant cold mask over her face. Today she was Cinderella and her
sword would be her glass slipper.
“Matilda Rose, Lady and Heir of Demille, Maven of House Krahr.”
The hallway ended, and they strode into the banquet hall. The entirety
of the room was watching them.
“Maud the Red, the Sariv, the Learned One.”
They were approaching the table where Onda and Seveline sat. Both
women were staring daggers at her.
“Kill count of sixty and eight.”
A muscle in Seveline’s face jerked. That’s right, precious. I’m coming for
you.
Arland led her to their table, directly behind the one occupied by the
parents of the bride and groom. The two couples had arrived just this
morning for the happy occasion.
She took her seat, keeping her face flat. Behind them, the Herald was
announcing the next guest.
“Alvina Karat Lady Renadra, Captain of Krahr…”
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Maud sipped the light mint drink and watched the hall fill. Two hundred
of the Kozor and Serak, all elite fighters, thirty-seven aliens, and two
hundred of Krahr, not counting the staff. The hall would have held more,
but Ilemina sneered at the thought of pursuing a number advantage. This
wasn’t just about winning. This was about winning against the
odds. Every moment of this wedding was recorded.
Twelve vampire women entered the hall, moving in a column two
abreast. Each wore a long white robe with a hood and carried a vala tree
branch decorated with bells and golden thread. A low chant rose from
their lips, a melodious song that floated through the chamber. Beautiful
and timeless, it reached deep into one’s soul and found that vulnerable
place hidden within. It wrapped around Maud and suddenly she missed
her parents, Dina, Klaus, and Helen. She wanted to gather them all to
her and hold on, because life was short and fleeting.
The procession split just short of entering the dais, the women moving
along the main floor to encircle the dais, holding their branches straight
up, as if guarding the boundary of the platform.
Twelve vampire knights entered the chamber, out of armor and dressed
in plain black tunics, matching black pants, and wearing tall black
boots. Each carried a simple black blade. A second chant rose from the
men, joining the song of the women, deepening the melody, like a twin
vine growing around the first. The song was everywhere now, echoing
from the walls, reverberating back on itself and Maud breathed it in.
The second column split in two and the men took position between the
women, each with their blade straight down, its point resting on
the
floor.
The song changed, gaining strength and speed.
A Battle Chaplain entered the chamber. He was tall, his skin grey with a
slight blue tint. A mane of black hair shot through with grey fell on his
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shoulders in dozens of long braids. His vestments the color of flesh blood
were split into ribbons, each about eight inches wide, and as he strode
forward, they moved and shifted like robes of some mystic mage. He
carried an ornate spear, draped with a red cord and decorated with
golden bells. Two glowing yellow orbs about the size of a large orange
dangled from it,
The song erupted, suddenly full of joy and triumph.
Behind the Chaplain, the bride and groom strode in unison, both out of
armor. The bride’s gown swept the floor, long, diaphanous, and
white. The groom wore an ornate silver doublet over darker pants and
soft boots. They had removed all jewelry. Their hair hung loose, brushed
back from their faces.
It was one of the few rare moments the vampires permitted themselves
to be vulnerable in public. Maud hadn’t fully grasped the significance of
it during her own wedding but now she understood. You came to the
altar as you were, hiding nothing from your future spouse.
Arland reached over and squeezed her hand. She smiled at him.
The Chaplain ascended the dais. The couple followed and the three of
them took their places in front of the vala tree. The Chaplain raised the
spear and touched its end to the floor.
The chant died.
The Chaplain opened his mouth.
An alarm blared through the chamber.
A screen opened in the middle of the wall, showing a male vampire
knight on the bridge of the battle station.
Arland rose to his feet. “Report.”
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“We are showing multiple unidentified craft entering the system,” the
knight said, his voice calm. “We are under attack.”
Chapter 17 Part 1
November 5, 2018 by Ilona
Maud followed Arland into the HQ of House Krahr. The large room
churned with activity. Desks and displays sprouted from the floor, each
station a focal point for the House Krahr elite, and between them a dozen
Innkeeper Chronicles 3.5: Sweep of the Blade Page 26
