The reports told her very little more than she already knew. She did find out from Jervis that Rallix had come from an orphanage, that his parents had died in a shipwreck when he was just an infant. He had managed to work himself through the prestigious Ferring Cross academy, and that had to have been no easy task. The academy was expensive, and the young boy would have had to work absolutely every moment not in school. It certainly explained his exceptional skills for one so young. Ferring Cross was a school that many nobles attended. Keritanima hadn't hired him because of his background, she had hired him because she could see that he would make her business successful.
It helped her get a better understanding of him, though, and that was important when she decided to finally stop putting it off and take him for her own. But that would have to be later. Right now, Rallix would be in danger if she made it known that she was interested in him. Not right now, but soon, very soon, Rallix would find his heart under siege.
And Keritanima played to win.
As had become the norm within the Hall of the Sun, the throne hall of the Wikuni kingdom, the Queen was attended by a large complement of Vendari warriors as she took her throne before the quiet court. Court was packed that day, the day after Keritanima spoke with Tarrin, because the Queen had summoned all the noble heads of all the noble houses. She also summoned Mayor Trent, her legal council, her advisors, bodyguards, and the heads of the seven major academies and colleges in the city. Shashka, the subject king of Vendaka, stood immediately before the dais and to the right, his head above Keritanima's eyes despite the fact that the throne was on a raised platform on the raised dais. He stood beside the Captain of the Guard, who had his men arrayed by the dais to keep a cushion of protection between the Queen and her subjects. The court was bowing or curtsying, holding their positions of deferrence as the young Queen of Wikuna seated herself on the throne.
The mood in the throne hall was of apprehension. The nobility--and everyone else, for that matter--knew that when Keritanima called so many people to court, she was about to make a major announcement. Lately, those major announcements were nightmares for the nobles. The nobles knew that she was aware of their attempts to stop her from changing the government, and most of them understood that this was going to be Keritanima's counterstroke to their resistance. Many of them were only there to see how far the Queen intended to take this game of chicken.
With Miranda on her left and Azakar on her right, with her Vendari bodyguards flanking them to create a wall of complete protection, Keritanima got comfortable on the massive throne of Wikuna. She nodded vaguely for the assembled court to rise, and then fingered the sceptre of station which was one of her symbols of authority absently. Then she put it on the arm of her throne and swept her gaze over the assembled court. Mayor Trent looked a bit amused, for she had talked to him the night before, and he knew what was about to happen.
He was the only Wikuni in the Hall who was smiling.
"You disappoint me," Keritanima began in a cold voice, a voice that made the noble leaders flinch visibly. Keritanima jumped to her feet, her purple Royal Robes flaring out before settling around her again. "I don't think you understand your situation!" she told them in a hot voice. "I am your Queen. I won this throne from my father with no help from any of you! My plans to alter the government to make it more efficient aren't dandle-chaff daydreams, my backwards noble cousins, and you know fully well what you're doing to put a stop to it. I'm sure you know that I know what's going on, and I'm tired of it."
She crossed her arms and let that sink in. "I'm pretty sure that most of you know that this audience is my reply to your resistance, and I won't disappoint you. What I don't think any of you understand is just how far I'll go. You may not like the idea of the Republic, but right here, right now, at this moment, you are not dealing with the Queen of that Republic. You are dealing with the Queen of the WikuniKingdom. If you won't accept the Constitution, if you want to continue playing these stupid political games, I'll be more than happy to take it to you on that level."
That made almost all the nobles take a step back. The Queen's ability to play on that level were well known now.
"If you don't want a Republic, I'll give you Tyranny!" Keritanima thundered at them.
More than one's knees began to shiver.
"If brute force is all you understand, then I'll give it to you," Keritanima seethed. "You want a Queen? You have one!" She sat back down. "I immediately decree that all plaits of Noble Law are repealed," she said, glaring at them. "Only the plaits of Common Law and Royal law are now binding. Nobles will not be granted any legal protection for their station. I also decree that from this day forward, no Noble House may carry a standing army greater than one hundreth of the quartered men of the standing Royal Army. Since I have ten thousand men quartered at the moment, then no Noble House may have a total force greater than one hundred men. I also decree that from this day forth, only the ships of the Royal Navy may be armed with cannons. All private noble ships must disarm immediately. I decree a freedom tax upon the property of all noble houses. Anyone leaving your private property, my nobles, will cost you a thousand gold falcons for them to use my streets. That includes the servants and commoners who work for you!"
There was stunned silence from the court, but Keritanima didn't give them a chance. "Do you like the new system, my nobles?" Keritanima asked scathingly. "Would you like to hear what I have prepared to decree tomorrow?"
"This is an outrage!" someone called from the court. "We are nobles! We are not chattel!"
"You are Wikuni!" Keritanima thundered. "Do you not understand that the only Wikuni above the law is me? Since you've convinced yourself that you're a step above what you really are, allow this decree to convince you otherwise! Effective immediately, I decree that all titles and lands granted by the Crown except my own are hereby taken back by the Crown! All of it! Every grain of sand, every blade of grass, every nail and board and brick, everything!"
There was a stunned silence. Noble houses owned more than was granted to them by the Crown, but the ancestral homes of almost all of them were originally granted by the monarch.
"Now there are no nobles!" Keritanima snapped at them. "Now face the truth, that your money and your lands and your titles are yours because I allow you to have them!"
There was a sudden commotion, as everyone started screaming and yelling at once. But it all ended immediately when the Vendari in the Hall took a single step forward and raised their weapons. The raw power of the mighty Vendari cowed almost all of them into immediate silence.
One noble stepped forward. Vora Plantan, the methodical female bear-Wikuni whom often served as a steadying influence on the nobility as a whole. She curtsied to the Queen with practiced ease, then gave the young fox Wikuni a penetrating look. "You have made your point, your Majesty," she said with a calm demeanor. "Surely you understand that carrying through with that decree will lead to war. A war that everyone in this room knows you will win. I am a practical woman, your Majesty. I have tried my hand, and found it to be lacking. I know when I'm on the losing side. Now is the time to salvage as much as I can out of a bad situation. I will support your new Constitution, if you will permit me to retain my title and granted lands."
Keritanima leaned back in her throne, silently sighing in relief. Good old Vora. She always could see to the heart of the matter.
"I'll accept your word that all these games will stop, Vora, but if I find out you made this promise and continue to resist me in any way, I'll crush you. Do we understand one another?"
"Perfectly, your Majesty," Vora said evenly.
"Fine. Then I exempt you from the decree. House Plantan will retain its titles and granted lands. Oh, yes, house Eram and House Mation are also exempted. Neither of them have tried to resist me, so they shouldn't be made to pay for the mistakes the rest of you have made."
One by one, the leaders of the nobles houses approached her and made the same offer. Retaining titles and lands
in exchange for the promise to stop resisting. Keritanima accepted them, one by one, making every noble leader say it publicly in court so that there would be no weaseling out of it. The most satisfying of them was when Sheba Zalan gave her stiff curtsy and pleaded to retain her house and titles. Keritanima made her sweat for a moment by pretending to consider the matter, but finally agreed.
When the last swore to her, she stood up again. "Don't even think that I believed a word of what you said," she said hotly to them. "Right now, a force of thirty thousand Vendari are on the way from Vendaka. Sashka has pledged his full support, and the Vendari will only obey the Crown. If you care to mouth your platitudes while buying muskets, go right again. I'll pit my forty thousand Vendari and the Royal Navy against everything you can hire. You will understand right here, right now, that you either embrace change, or be crushed under its heel. I'll continue with my plan, whether there are any nobles left to form a House of Lords or not." She looked over them coldly. "Understand one thing, my nobles. You are alone. The Vendari are behind me, and the commoners believe in the idea of a Republic. We can go on without you. You aren't needed anymore. You can either march with us into the future, or be destroyed. The choice is yours." She crossed her arms and swept a powerful gaze over them. "This audience is concluded. Get out!"
In total silence, the court withdrew. Keritanima went through the back entrance with her retinue and sashka, and only in the antechamber where the Queen donned her Royal robes did she blow out a sigh of relief. "That went as well as I expected," she told her friends. "I appreciate your aid, friend sashka."
"We are yours to command, your Majesty," he said mildly.
"Do you believe in what I'm doing?"
"This idea of a Republic is not our way, Majesty," sashka said calmly. "It is against our nature. So long as you do not impose it upon Vendaka, all will be well."
"But do you think it's a good idea for us?"
"I have read your papers. You have vision, Majesty. For the Wikuni, I believe it will be a good thing."
"Then that's all I needed to hear," she said to him with a gentle smile. "I trust your judgement, sashka."
"My judgement will ever be at your command, your Majesty."
"That comforts me in ways I don't think you can imagine, sashka," she said sincerely. "Now I can get things moving for real."
"Why the haste, your Majesty?" Sashka asked.
"I have a promise to keep, sashka," she replied seriously. "It's a matter of honor. I have to return to Sennadar as soon as possible."
"If it is a matter of honor, then your haste is understandable," he replied, his eyes approving. "But do not let the haste cloud your judgement. You cannot rush to Sennadar to save honor while losing it here."
"I'm aware of that, but I do need to hurry," she told him. "I want to be back in Suld inside four months. I think that's a realistic timetable."
"Workable," Miranda piped in. "Now that you've cowed the nobles, you just have to organize the government, and find someone to act in your stead while you're gone."
"I already know who that will be," she said. She turned to the massive Vendari ruler. "Would you do me the honor of serving in my place while I'm gone, sashka? If there's anyone in Wikuna I can trust, it's you. I have total confidence in your ability, and the nobles wet themselves at the sight of you."
"You honor me, your Majesty," the Vendari replied in a serious voice. "I am not worthy of the position, but if you wish it, I will do my best."
Miranda laughed brightly. "The nobles won't even think of trying to revolt while we're gone if sashka is serving as the Queen's regent," she told Azakar.
"That's only a small reason," Keritanima said. "Sashka knows Wikuna, and he knows what I'm trying to do. His ability to govern is more important than his ability to intimidate."
"But it doesn't hurt," Miranda added.
"No, it does not," Keritanima agreed with a smile.
She took off her crown and set it on a cushion with the sceptre, sighing in relief. That was the last obstacle. With the nobles under control, she would soon be on her way back to Sennadar, back to her brother and sister. She had three months to prepare Wikuna for her departure. Three months.
It wouldn't be short enough for her.
Heat.
Burning sun, burning sand, burning rocks. Tarrin had never known such heat. It hammered into his body, it beat the energy out of him, it boiled him in his own fur. His Were body was well suited to dealing with heat, but it began to tire him after only half a day of exposure to the powerful sun and baking ambient heat of the Desert of Swirling Sands.
Tarrin huddled inside his leather cloak, using it to shield him from the merciless sun, which hung like a ball of molten bronze in the sky, a disc of pure fire that burned at him. Its light was so bright that it reflected painfully off the sand and gravel, bright even under the protection of the tinted visor Sarraya had made, and every step burned the sand's intense heat into the pads on his feet. He was sweating profusely within the cloak, but he knew that it would be ten times worse if the sun was directly striking him. Sweat made his still-short hair wet to the touch, bleeding out the black dye that Sarraya had used to darken his hair. His skin had lost its dark color, but his face was nearly as dark now from exposure to the sun, darkening in response to exposure to the blasting sunlight of the desert. If anything, now he understood why the Selani had brown skin. It had been burned into them to the point where it had become an inherited trait.
Crossing the desert in the heat of the day hadn't been his first choice, but he was too close to the edge of the desert to suit him. The sandstorm that sent him scrambling for cover the night before ended as quickly as it began, and just as mysteriously, making him wonder if the Selani goddess really did create the storm to drive Anayi out of the desert. It had howled deafeningly for about five hours, and then it stopped. Tarrin had spent the rest of the night sleeping, and when he awoke in the morning, he realized that he was entirely too close to the escarpment to make him feel comfortable. So he had set out in the morning sunrise to put distance between him and the ki'zadun. The morning had been cold, at first, but he expected that. He'd heard many of Allia's tales about the desert, so he knew what to expect. He moved quickly in the morning, and slowed more and more as the sun rose and started baking the land. It wasn't even noon yet, and already it was nearly unbearable. He knew that he had to stop soon, to find shade and rest during the hottest part of the day, and then start again in the afternoon. That wasn't the Selani way, but then again, the Selani were born and raised in the desert, and were acclimated to the heat.
He would adjust. If his Were body was good for anything, it was adaption to new environments. His system would get used to the heat, his body would adapt to the environment, and his regeneration would protect him from things like sunburn or heat stroke. Dehydration was his primary concern, so he made sure to drink water often. He'd get used to the heat and not sweat as much, but he had to keep water inside him until that happened.
"Now...now I understand why the Selani are so fierce," Sarraya panted under his hood, hiding from the heat. Her voice was listless. "Anything that can live in this must be all but indestructible."
"I thought you'd been to the desert before," Tarrin noted.
"It was winter then, it's not as hot in the winter," she replied. "And I visited the northern marches of the desert. This is the southern marches."
"It makes a difference?"
"Entirely," she panted.
The sense of relief he felt from getting here didn't quite overcome his sense of trepidation. Now he was safe from those seeking the Book, but he just traded them in for beasts that were after him as a meal. He'd already seen some tracks. Tracks at least as large as his own feet, three-toed, and with divots at the ends of the toes that told him the toes sported some wicked claws. The way it looked, it was a pack of them, and judging by the size of the feet, they had to be at least Tarrin's size, if not larger. And if they weren't bad enough, he'd seen t
wo Selani markers. The Selani owned the desert, and they killed invaders. He wouldn't be able to hide from them forever, but he hoped to get well into the desert before meeting up with any of them. Add to that the challenges of surviving in such a hostile land, and it made for a relatively unpleasant experience.
But he couldn't deny the stark beauty of the land. That morning, after leaving the little cave in the side of a rock spire, he had to stop and marvel at how the light struck the many stone spires dotting the wasteland, at the different colors that banded them as they rose towards the heavens, reds and browns and yellows and even greens and blues. The sun illuminated the scene in brillant reds as it rose, like fire sweeping across the desert, causing the stone to change colors as the sun rose from the horizon. It was breathtaking. He never knew unworked stone could look so beautiful. There was an elegance to it, a simple beauty, as if the wind had taken up a paintbrush and left its mark upon the spires. A little climbing told him that it was the stone itself that was colored, which was even more amazing. Never before had Tarrin seen green sandstone, but yet here it was.
Blowing out his breath, Tarrin stopped. He had to stop often to drink, but stopping made him feel like he was standing on a campfire. He dug his feet into the sand, sinking them down past the heat to the cooler sand beneath, and let his fur insulate him from the hot sand pressing up against his ankles. He knelt down and spread the cloak out around him, shielding the sand from the sun so it would cool and take some bite off the inferno hitting him in the face while he rested. He pulled the waterskin off his belt and shook it, then uncapped it carefully with his claws and emptied it of its contents. The water was hot, but it soothed a parched throat, and sent a minor surge of energy through him.
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