Imperial Masquerade (The Two Moons of Rehnor, Book 11)

by J. Naomi Ay

  “You have more to fear than this,” Rekah cried, and in an uncharacteristically violent gesture, he seized the bowl from the table, flinging it upon the hearth. It crashed and broke into shards, sending the porridge raining down upon the floor, as well as the wall, and the boy’s unprotected head.

  The boy did not flinch, nor even waver his gaze. His eyes shone with that odd lightness, which Tuman had seen earlier that morning. His lip curled back slightly to reveal a set of brilliant white, but fang-like teeth as a small growl erupted from the child’s throat.

  “He is false. False, I tell you,” Rekah raged. “Cast him out or better you should kill him. Although, little good that would do for he should only return in another’s place. My cousin’s departure has left the door open for great evil to pass through.”

  “Father, you are truly out of your head.” Tuman grew angry despite the old man’s obvious agitation. “Go home and rest. I think you must have partaken of too much Barkuti last night, and it is still affecting your senses.”

  “Indeed, I have not slept one wink this past night for my mind was too wrought over this boy, and no, I took neither Barkuti nor any drink to alter my thoughts.”

  “There is nothing to fear,” Tuman insisted, and returning his father’s cloak and boots, forcefully pushed him to the door. “You are imagining things. You are dreaming. What you fear shall not come to pass. I shall return to the Temple this evening to continue the holiday preparations. You may join me there, and together we shall pray. All will be resolved, and this lost child shall be welcomed into a new home.”

  Rekah had grown weary. If he were younger, he would have slayed the child himself. Now, he had not the strength to fight his son, let alone the evil that lurked around them.

  “Perhaps, I shall sooner die,” he replied, slipping on his boots and cloak. “When I am gone, you shall say I was correct. You shall regret your harsh condemnation of me, and beg for forgiveness. Unfortunately, I shan’t be about to grant you pardon.” With this, he stepped out on the porch, nodding his head emphatically for Tuman to see.

  Tuman didn’t respond although a small smile teased his lips. There was no point in arguing with the old man as both his age and obstinacy increased with the passage of time.

  “I shall ring Mother Seesi and advise her to put you to bed.” Tuman knew his threat was empty and unnecessary for Seesi knew full well how to deal with stubborn Rekah. “Come, Arsan. I have for you a fresh glass of goat milk.”

  So confident Tuman was in his father’s misconception that he failed to notice the clues before his eyes. The boy objected to the milk with a wild shaking of his head and from the floor, he leapt for the door.

  Tuman didn’t worry. In fact, he encouraged the boy to go out, to explore the village and return later for lunch. Then, Tuman went about his tasks, his studying and his prayer, never minding the time nor the darkness until it set.

  When the boy returned later with fresh scratches upon his face, Tuman assumed he had been playing in the forest. He didn’t think on it again, until a knock sounded upon his door. Abruptly, Tuman woke, as did the child on the couch.

  “Heathen!” Lehot screamed, pointing his finger at the boy. “Brother, you must rid this demon from our midst.”

  “Why?” Tuman objected, as the lad once again cowered by the wall. “Have you been speaking with our father and listening to his madness?”

  “No, I have not,” Tuman’s younger half-brother declared. “I have seen with my own eyes this evil child. I watched from afar as he came upon my pen and then, changed into a beast in nary a blink.”

  “That’s ridiculous,” Tuman scoffed. “You, like our father, have gone insane. How could a small child be anything more than what he is?”

  “I watched it. I witnessed what was done, and I am here to tell you, our father speaks the truth. If you harbor this child and do not throw him out, I shall go to the Village Council and declare you unfit. Then, you shall wander the forest by his side.”

  In the old days, Tuman might have hit his brother. He could have slammed him against the wall, and pinned his neck. Tuman may have threatened his life, or simply left him bereft of a few teeth. Now, Tuman was calm although inside, his emotions raced.

  “How dare you accuse this child of what, I fail to understand. It is not his fault to have been abandoned in the forest. If he has gone into your animal pen, tell me what then did he do? Perhaps, he wished only to find comfort in the familiar creatures.”

  “Comfort? Comfort indeed with his teeth and claws. This beast only pretends to be a child. In truth, he was sent by Satan or his minions for a purpose I cannot understand, and obviously, neither do you.”

  “What proof have you of this?”

  “I have his head.” Lehot raised his hand to display the severed goat’s head, which he held by a single horn. “I saw him slay this beast with his claw. Go back to your book, Tuman, and find the words which warn of the one who comes falsely in the Champion’s stead. Even I, who am not so well educated as you, can recall the verse which speaks of he who kills the lamb and goat in offering.”

  Chapter 9

  Rent had just concluded the last meeting of the day when his brother rang.

  “Just a minute,” he snapped as a few stragglers slowly shuffled out of the board room.

  “Me?” Nancy asked, following him into the adjacent office, her tablet and everything else at the ready.

  “No. Thanks.” Sitting down at his desk, Rent immediately pulled up the financial report on his vid. He didn't notice as Nancy's face fell, and her red-lipsticked mouth pouted while she waited by the door for him to notice her.

  Nancy stood, the six-inch pencil thin heels of her fashionable, strappy sandals and her narrow, short skirt not nearly as uncomfortable as they looked. Then, she cleared her throat quietly, brushed her hair out of her eyes and picked out a tiny poppy seed from her lunch bagel which had inadvertently gotten stuck between her teeth. It wasn't until she actually sneezed quite loudly that Rent finally looked up from his numbers and realized she was still there.

  "Did you need something?" He asked, hardly giving her a glance and indicating with a slight nod of his head the tissue box on the credenza.

  "No. No. I guess I don't need anything and neither do you." Nancy shrugged and forced a little laugh that sounded flat as it echoed across the immense office.

  She glanced outside at the dull, gray sky, the dull gray ocean off in the distance, the dull gray buildings surrounding them, and the evening lights that were just now beginning to illuminate the dull, gray city of New Mishnah.

  "No, I don't need anything," Rent confirmed as if there had been any doubt. "Wait. Actually, I do."

  For a moment, Nancy's heart gave a tiny, little leap until she saw him reach behind his desk for the mug on the sideboard.

  "Rootbeer," they both said in unison, prompting Nancy to force an awkward chuckle again, although Rent didn't. He was already refocused on his numbers.

  Upon filling the mug with the requisite drink, Nancy returned it to the corner of the desk, and waited another half second in the event he wished for something more.

  He didn't. Instead, her boss grunted slightly, before he mumbling, “What in the hell was wrong with this picture.”

  Nancy, of course, had no clue what was wrong with that picture or any other. Numbers of any sort had never been her thing. She was very good at calendars and could take intelligent messages. She also looked awesome in her tight skirt, and even tighter blouse.

  Unfortunately, in the three months that she had worked for Rent, his interest in her never went beyond what and who was scheduled next, and would she kindly run down to the cafeteria to pick up a sandwich for his lunch.

  Nancy wasn't entirely sure why this was the case. Never before in her five years as a secretary at SdK Corporation was she so visibly ignored. Despite her best efforts, which included perfumes, hair styles, and daily whitened teeth, there seemed to be nothing she could do to attract any interest fr
om Rent, save throw herself upon his lap and demand he ravish her.

  "Your brother?" Nancy prodded, wisely deciding that a plummet into his lap might get her fired.

  "What?"

  "His Imperial Highness? Prince Shika? You still have him on hold?"

  "Oh, yeah, Steve," Rent replied, as if he just recalled either who his brother was, or that he had been waiting patiently for Rent’s attention for at least ten minutes. "Tell him I'll call him right back."

  Nancy hesitated. Telling the Imperial Prince Shika that the Imperial Prince Revak would ring him later might get her yelled at by one, or the both of them. Hanging up on the Imperial Prince Shika or forcing the Imperial Prince Revak to accept the call might get her fired, or even worse.

  As technically, neither one had seniority over the other, this type of situation inevitably ended up in a stalemate. Nancy was put in the unenviable position of having to negotiate between the two, something she was also not very good at.

  Ultimately, Nancy decided to ignore the call. She would pretend it had slipped her mind as she went about her very important tasks. She let herself out of her boss's offices, and slowly walked back the short hall to her own desk.

  Like a sentry, Nancy sat perched in front of the lifts. Once there, she reached in her desk, and withdrew her diamond dust nail file in order to repair her pale pink manicured nails. Glancing occasionally at her screen, Nancy noted it took another three full minutes until Prince Shika hung up. At that, she breathed a huge sigh of relief.

  When Nancy had first been offered this assignment, to be the secretary to the newly promoted President of SdK Corporation, she leapt at the chance. Her former boss was retiring, and he had been merely a vice president. It was a giant promotion for Nancy to work for the illustrious Imperial Prince.

  Of course, Nancy imagined the position would bring her more than just a new desk. She'd become the Imperial Prince's trusted companion. She'd be constantly at his beck and call, finishing his sentences before he got them out, anticipating his needs and getting them done.

  Inevitably, Rent would fall in love with her. They'd have a secret and somewhat illicit affair, after which he’d insist she marry him and move to the Imperial Palace. There, she would redecorate his bachelor pad apartment into a comfortable and stylish home where he would hurry to return to her every night.

  Nancy would look fabulous in traditional Mishnese gowns, the Empress's unused tiaras propped upon her head. When she had visits to make, she'd wear those same darling little suits with fashionable shoes and hats like the Empress had always done.

  Naturally, things hadn't worked out that way just yet. In fact, most of the time, Rent seemed to have difficulty recalling who Nancy was. He'd look up from whatever he was studying, his eyes unfocused and his jaw set, until something clicked, and he remembered she was his personal assistant. It was times like those, as Nancy looked into his face, that she clearly saw the resemblance to his father. Although Rent could obviously see, his gaze was steely eyed, and an icy chill seemed to waft off him. Nancy always felt like Rent could look right into her brain, and he wasn't very pleased with what he found there.

  The vid rang again, and again it was the Palace. Nancy put away her emery board and patted her hair. She set her lips in a professional, but attractive smile and then, answered.

  “Nancy.” The stern voice of Lord Kinar demanded. The last call had been placed by his under-secretary. The fact that Kinar himself was placing this new one just went to show how important it was. “His Imperial Highness requests to speak with His Imperial Brother.”

  “Yes, milord.” Nancy smiled and helplessly waved her hands, “But, His Imperial Highness, the Imperial Brother is very busy. He suggests that he will ring His Imperial Highness, His Imperial Brother again in five minutes or so of his time.”

  “That won’t do, Nancy,” Kinar stated, and then, lowering his voice, he dropped all of the official Noble Mishnese language.

  Kinar was really a nice guy, Nancy thought. They had to play this little game for a few minutes just in case either of the Imperial Princes overheard.

  "Shika is on a rampage and demanding to speak with Rent right now. Can't you go interrupt him and put him on the line?"

  "Four minutes," Nancy begged. "I'll see if I can make it three. All the directors just left, and things are bad."

  "Things are bad all over," Kinar agreed, wishing Senya would return.

  As smart as his sons were, they simply weren't HIM. Actually, they weren't even close to HIM. Granted, it wasn't really their fault that things had become so terrible. Nobody, not even Katie, could have done any better in these circumstances.

  For a while, primarily in the beginning, things had held together. Everyone had been in such a state of shock and denial that naturally, they made every effort to cooperate. The staff, the ministers, the councils, the governors of all the planets had worked hard to keep the Imperial Ship of State on course.

  Unfortunately, as time dragged on, the Imperial Ship had begun to list. Now, there was more water in the bilge than the pumps could evacuate, and if something didn't change, very quickly, they'd all be sunk.

  "Two minutes," Kinar relented. "Two and a half at the very most. I'll tell the Imperial Prince, his Imperial Brother is in the loo."

  "Thank you," Nancy cried and once again rose upon her pencil clad feet to return to her boss's office.

  "What is it now?" Rent snapped, staring at the build status report on the screen above his head. Below him, on the desktop, was the financial statement for the Aerospace Research and Development Unit, which was nearly four billion dollars over budget for the fiscal year.

  "Your Imperial Brother," Nancy called hesitantly from the door. She had stuck her head in only slightly, fearing that steely blue gaze and the imagined imposition on the thoughts in her head. "Lord Kinar says there is something important he wishes to discuss."

  "Everything is overly important to him." Rent clutched at his own aching head, a gesture that softened his appearance and gave Nancy hope that there might still be a spot of tenderness in the overstressed and overworked Imperial Prince's soul.

  Before she had worked for him, or even known him for that matter, the women around the office said that Rent was a somewhat humble and unimposing guy. Although he had looked exactly like the Imperial Prince, and used the quite obvious pseudonym Golden, no one could believe that Rent was actually who he was.

  "You'll love him," everyone had told Nancy. "He's such a doll, an overgrown puppy. Of all the Imperial Family to work for, Rent is definitely the best."

  Now, Nancy watched as he reached into his desk drawer and extracted a bottle of migraine pills. Swallowing two with a healthy dose of Rootbeer, she waited for an indication as to whether or not he would take the call.

  "Give me a minute," he finally grumbled, tearing up a sheet of paper that lay on the desk before him.

  "Yes, Sir," Nancy replied and quickly shut the door.

  "Fuck him," Rent declared, reaching for the next contract from the stack on his sideboard. As he briefly scanned it, noting the highlighted changes from the last version, he considered how his life had so quickly changed.

  Two years ago, he was a student engineer and today, he was running the entire company. Granted nepotism had a little bit to do with it. When your father owned the whole damn thing, it helped to put you in the queue for promotion.

  However, to be fair, Rent had also discovered that he had a bit of brains. After the unfortunate explosion of a brand new Intergalactic 878 outside of Spacebase 41-B, Rent had almost single-handedly diagnosed and re-engineered the flawed component design of the engine intake and exhausting systems.

  While the repair was instituted in all operating spacecraft, SdK suffered a tremendous financial loss. Orders were cancelled right and left, and the families of the victims sued from billions of dollars, which forced then president, Jim Mattson into resignation as the sacrificial lamb.

  Jim had also just inherited the Duchy of
Kalika-Hahr, so as it turned out, the new duke had plenty of other business on his plate. He gladly packed up his office, and when asked whom he might recommend as a replacement, Rent de Kudisha was named as the obvious successor.

  Now, Rent was dealing with engineering issues, financial reports, and departments that were understaffed. Sales were down, and costs were high, layoffs were announced and the employees were threatening to strike. No matter which way he turned, he was greeted with terrible news.

  On top of all that, Steve was bothering him about Imperial Business.

  "Fuck it, Steve!" Rent swore, scrawling his name on the bottom of the contract, and finally, clicking on the vid to accept his brother's call. "I thought we agreed that you would handle the Empire while I deal with SdK."

  "Fuck you, Rent," Steve snapped back. "I need your help. The Imperial Council is arguing about every damn thing. Lumineria II is declaring war against Lumineria III. The Altarians want to secede, and the Talasians are refusing to pay their tithe. The Cascadians are insisting you marry their princess while the Centipedeans are insisting that both of us marry some of theirs.”

  "That's it?"

  "What do you mean that's it? Isn't that enough or do you want to hear more issues? I’ve got plenty. Two of our Imperial SpaceNavy StarShips have been grounded for operation faults. We had an engine fire on the Queen of Altaris, and the Lydia Kalila was damaged by a massive asteroid. The KdK and Queen of Rozari are already in dry dock for scheduled retrofit which means the SpaceNavy is now down to two working ships. On top of that, this whole damn Palace is falling apart. Rodents have overcome the basements and the seawall has been breached in the southern quarter. Everything has gone to hell, and that's just the start."

  "That's enough." Rent threw up his hands and waved his brother away. "Seriously, Steve, I can't deal with this shit right now."

  "Well, you're going to have to," Steve yelled. "I'm ordering you back to the Palace. There's a meeting of the Imperial Council tonight, and you need to be here."