by Mark Eller
A third voice broke in. "Nefra promised us it would resolve this problem. I'll accept that the assassin you set on Turner failed. It's done and over with. Time to move on. I know you have one or two extras in your contingent. Use them."
A murmuring too low for Aaron to hear followed until,"What?" said a male voice. "Dead?"
"Turner seems to have anticipated everything," Curfras complained. "All three are dead."
Another voice spoke up. "Hardly accidental."
"Nothing with the Turners is accidental," yet another female voice said. "The Turners are a sneaky lot. One of my people lost her fingers in this suite to somebody none of us saw. I thought we had the bitch on the ropes, but she turned everything around. She's a small thing, but tougher than she looks."
Curfras cut in. "Let's just admit mistakes have been made. Some of us have tried and failed. Some us waited for others to settle matters."
"Is your cut aimed me?" The woman's voice was tightly controlled.
"It isn't a cut at anybody. " Curfras snapped. "I'm just saying some people are reluctant to get their fingers bloody. Nefra is done with this matter. We've taken our shot and got burned. It's now up to the rest of you."
"We represent seven countries," the single male voice said. "Surely there's something we can do. Is killing Turner essential? Wouldn't killing Klein do just as well?"
"Can't be done with the resources on hand," Curfras said. "My people looked into it before they died on me. Klein is too well guarded. As the new emperor, Turner will be just as difficult to reach once the Chins get their hands on him. Our only hope is for one of you to kill him before he reaches them."
"If we can find him. " There was the sound of shifting bodies, followed by a low murmur of voices. Aaron heard a few brief clinks of glass on glass and another low voice spoke.
"Yes, thank you. Could you connect me with your vintner?"
"It's a rare wine," the second female answered. "No, I can't. I also can't guess at how we'll catch Turner before he reaches the Chins. He has a confusing way of disappearing and reappearing. I say we don't make a move until Clack makes his play. We can plan better after observing the outcome."
"We can always declare our own war," somebody observed. "The Chins are little more than a mob. Three strategic strikes into their territories will set them back."
"There is one left," Curfras said quietly. "There is one who wasn't part of our embassy who I haven't heard from yet."
A moment of silence passed, during which Zisst released a low moan.
The silence stretched on. "Somebody is in my room."
Aaron quickly turned from the door.
"Daddy," Autumn whispered. Zisst stirred in her arms.
Waving Autumn to silence, Aaron pictured a small clearing among the Chin tents and transferred them there just as the doorknob started to turn.
Patton staggered when they arrived, but Missy's shoulder provided him support. His face was tight with fatigue, but not one protest made it past his lips.
"Where were we, and what were you listening to?" Patton asked.
Aaron scowled. "My bedroom, only the suite seems to have been given over to the Nefrans. Apparently, the assassin Melna and I fought worked for them. Somebody else has been playing tag with the other Nefran assassins."
He gave Kim a piercing look. A small smile played about the corners of her mouth.
"Why would they want to kill you way back then?" Patton asked. "Nobody knew what Klein wanted at the time."
Aaron started walking toward the main Chin encampment, taking care to walk slowly so Patton could keep up. "Nobody knew for sure," he answered over his shoulder,"but enough people had an idea of what Klein wanted to propose, and they knew he wanted me to make the proposal since-since--hell, I don't know. I don't even know why the Nefran's felt that was reason enough to have me killed. If I wasn't here, Klein would have tapped some other sucker for the job."
Making a gesture to capture their attention, Kim cleared her throat. "I think this league is only a ploy."
"Excuse me."
"Someone inside the Chin encampment wanted you dead so they approached the Nefrans with false information, causing the Nefrans to set an assassin on you."
"Johnston always hated me," Aaron mused as they dodged around a tent stake. It was close to midnight, but a few fires still burned. "He might have had a hand in it. " Then again Clack didn't seem to like him either, and it was more than the duel with Johnston. Aaron barely remembered Clack from Field's Everlasting Life Militia compound. If it was Clack, then why?
They fully entered the Chin encampment, passing by two Chins who stood guard. The two glanced at Aaron, stamped their heels, and stepped aside. Almost immediately, Aaron's group encountered a woman who staggered between two tents. Upon seeing them, she stopped to proffer Aaron a skin flask.
"Drink?" Between her heavy accent and drunken condition, Aaron barely understood her. He started to wave her away, but changed his mind.
"I want to see the emperor. Do you know where he is?"
Peering at his face, she shrugged. "You emperor."
"Klein. Helmet Klein. Do you know where he is?"
She took another pull on her skin and made a vague gesture. "Gone. Going."
"Aaron."
Aaron turned. At first he didn't know who spoke, but then Samuel Aybarra moved out of the darkness. The black man looked older than when Aaron had seen him just a few days earlier. His shoulders were stooped, and the spring was gone from his step.
"Where's Melna," Aaron demanded.
Aybarra shook his head. "We'll talk about that later. We've been waiting for you."
"I know Helmet named me his successor," Aaron said. "I want to see my wife. Where's Melna?
"She's here, asleep. Her father is here, too. Melna moved into Helmet's old tent. Her father has one of the side alcoves. How did you learn about the abdication?"
Aaron motioned toward Heralda. "She told me. " He took a moment to enjoy Aybarra's puzzlement. He decided not to try explaining a woman who was either a half insane psychic or in personal contact with God. "It doesn't need to be explained. If Melna is safe, then I want to see Helmet."
Aybarra nodded. "It's late, but he asked to see you when you showed up."
"Asked?" Seldom during their long and sporadic relationship had Helmet ever requested Aaron do anything. He ordered.
"You're the emperor," Aybarra reminded him. "He's only a dying man. I doubt he has a week left."
"No," Aaron whispered, but the look in Aybarra's eyes told him the truth. "Take me to him."
"As your Highness commands. " Aybarra's tone was only half-mocking.
* * *
Helmet slept in a small tent set in an area separate from the rest of the Chin encampment. Aaron felt saddened by the tent's low peek and narrow sides. Helmet deserved better than this. He deserved a palace.
Waving a hand for the others to stay behind, Aaron accepted a candle, lifted the tent flap, and bent to enter through the opening.
Helmet lay on a cot. His wife, Mu Lei, sat on the floor beside him. Her eyes fastened on Aaron with suspicion. She held a knife in her hand, but when recognition entered her expression the knife sagged down to the floor. She rose smoothly from her bed, an indistinct form. Approaching Aaron, Mu Lei touched his face with two fingers.
"He waits for you," she said, and then pushed past the tent flap, leaving Aaron alone with his friend.
Other than the cot, the tent was empty of furnishings. Helmet Klein's gaunt face, bore deep lines, and his eyes were sunken. Looking at the man, Aaron realized this was the face he had seen all along these past weeks, only its condition had been masked by an inner fire.
Falling to one knee, Aaron touched Helmet on his shoulder while holding the candle high with his other hand. After a moment, he touched Helmet again, only harder. Still no response. It was only then he remembered Helmet was paralyzed. A brush against Klein's cheek woke his friend.
"Helmet," Aaron said.
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"I know," Klein replied weakly. "People look different when they're dying. Hello, Aaron. I hope you don't hate me too much."
"Why?" Aaron asked. He frowned, and then shook his head because he wasn't sure what he asked.
"Because I'm no longer emperor," Klein said. "There's no room in Chin for people who can't travel on their own. They'll carry someone for a short time if the problem is a healing wound, but anything permanent means the person is left behind with her weapons nearby. Chins are wanderers, Aaron. They travel without horses."
"But you were emperor."
"I was emperor," Klein agreed. "Now I'm just an old man waiting to die. I'd have died in the next couple of years anyway. This saves time."
"Helmet."
"Don't look at me that way. I've lived like this for more than nine years. Nine years during which I've been hauled from one place to another while scheming to hold this thing together. I can't do it anymore. I'm tired. It's your job now, and I'm sorry for giving it to you."
"But I don't want it," Aaron protested. He ran his fingers along the side of Klein's graying hair. "If you love me, take this burden away. You called me your son."
Klein's chuckle was dry and thin, but that didn't stop him from laughing.
"Hell, boy," he finally managed. "That was only an excuse to land this job on you. You get the job because you don't want it, and because you've built your own empire without killing anyone. You not only built it, you held it together a damn sight better than I held my own. Yours has a solid foundation. I saddled you with this job because I care more for what I built than I care for you. " He laughed again, quieter this time, more gently. "Gods, what I wouldn't give for a glass of water. Throat's parched, but these things's happen when they stop feeding you."
"I love you," Aaron whispered. "You were my father."
Klein's frown became almost a sneer. "Don't be a fool. Do you really believe I didn't know what they did to you? I knew about the operations. It's the way the world runs. We do what needs doing to get the job done."
Klein's voice was matter of fact, but his eyes were evasive. A muscle twitched in his cheek.
"Enough of that," he continued. "We need to talk about the empire. First, trust Aybarra. He doesn't have the ambition and drive to covet your job. Clack does. He was almost manageable when he thought he was the heir apparent, but now you'll have to kill him. Do it, Aaron. If you don't, he'll splinter his group of discontents off, and then you'll have war for the next twenty years. Kill him in a way that won't give the separatists an excuse to rebel. Make it look honest or like an accident."
Aaron listened carefully through the night. Helmet wasn't always lucid. Sometimes his voice died away, and his eyes drifted shut, only to open half an hour later. He sometimes repeated himself, and he once called Aaron by the name of Danny.
But overall, Helmet's report was complete. Morning light peeked past the tent flap by the time he was satisfied Aaron knew enough for a start. The rest, Helmet said, would come from Aybarra and a few other advisors.
"I'm afraid of dying," Helmet finished,"but I can't go on like this. Take care of my people."
"Isn't there--" Aaron began.
"There's nobody," Helmet answered.
Nodding, Aaron lifted the tent flap. His legs ached from kneeling all night. His back had a knot in it pulling him to the side.
"Goodbye, Helmet."
"Aaron. " The voice was weaker than it had been the entire night. "I do love you, boy. I do."
"I know," Aaron answered and left. Heralda and Aybarra waited outside. Heralda took the tent flap from his hand and entered.
* * *
Melna and Autumn seemed to be getting along just fine when Aaron finally ran across them. Autumn laughed while Melna held something out to her. The laughter did Aaron's soul good, for Autumn was not the same girl Aaron remembered leaving back in Jutland. She often wore a haunted look, and there was something fragile in the way she interacted with the people around her. She seemed wary and skittish. Aaron wasn't sure if the cause was her ordeal or because Autumn Turner wore a Talent Stone that sometimes let her catch glimpses of a future she didn't want to see.
Her visions wouldn't last long. He had no problem with his daughter owning a Stone, but there were limits. For one thing, he had no intention of dealing with a teenager's wild moods for the next thirty or forty years.
Standing in the background, he watched his wife and daughter. At least twenty Chins also ate. Their demeanor was in direct contrast to their appearance. Their moods appeared light, but their faces spoke of loss. These people had nothing but the promise of hard and short lives, and yet they took what was given and enjoyed what they had.
When he looked at his wife, Aaron knew some of his previous antipathy still existed. She was a quandary who had been forced on him. Despite Missy's efforts, not all his anger toward her was gone. Still, the lesson had not been forgotten.
Melna had played a game with Clack and Johnston, but so far as he knew, she stopped sooner than Aaron stopped with Missy, and so what if she hadn't. She was only nineteen. Yes, the rules were different for men and women on this man-starved world. Nobody else would fault Aaron for desiring another woman, but Aaron faulted himself. Honor demanded he be faithful to his wife. With time, Melna would learn this about him and perhaps reciprocate.
Melna mocked screamed as Zisst leaped to the table. Zisst's prancing seemed arthritically slow. Aaron frowned with concern. Zisst shouldn't have been brought along, but Autumn had insisted. Aaron had not the heart to tell her no. Then again, Zisst seemed to be enjoying itself.
When Melna saw him, her laughter stilled. Aaron's frown changed into a smile as he made his way toward her. He twisted past two groups of Chins along the way. Both groups rose from their seats, nodded respectfully, and sat down.
"Husband," Melna said carefully when he stood before her.
"Wife," Aaron answered, and then he wrapped her in his arms and kissed her. She kissed him back, but only for a moment before pulling away with a little shake of her head.
"The gesture is appreciated, but public affection is frowned upon by your subjects. " Her fingers rose to touch the scabbed over wound on his face. "Some might say you're not so handsome anymore. I won't forget you got this fighting for me. " She touched one finger gently to the side of his lips. "Have you stopped covering her kiss?"
"My reluctant subjects will have to get used to a lot of things," Aaron told her. "I'll kiss my wife when and where I want so long as she is willing."
"Oh," Melna said. "In that case."
She did more than kiss him. She drowned him in the sensation of Melna. Her hands pulled him in tight until his ribs creaked. Finished, she took a half step back, cocked her head to the side, and regarded him with sparkling eyes. Something in them playfully mocked. Something else looked deadly serious. "I told you I'm an exhibitionist."
"Go, Daddy," Autumn said approvingly.
A low murmuring from the Chins said not all of them had missed the byplay.
Melna carefully patted her hair. "Autumn dear, is my hair mussed?"
"It's fine," Autumn said after a brief inspection. "Not a hair out of place."
"Really, Aaron," Melna chided. "You must do better. When a woman is kissed, she expects to do a little self-repair."
A small flash of memory crossed Aaron's mind. Sarah had said something similar to him once. She told him to be less careful with his hands. Momentary guilt ran through him, but he pushed it aside. Sarah was the past. He had loved her, still loved her, but she was the past. It wasn't fair for Melna to compete with a dead woman.
Mock growling, Aaron grabbed her, and he wasn't careful with his hands. By the time he finished, her hair needed repair. His face burned. Melna glowed.
"I'm sure I shouldn't be watching this," Autumn commented.
Zisst purred.
Chapter 29
Later that morning, Aaron discovered he had a throne. As thrones went, his wasn't much. It was a high-backed,
hard seated chair with leather straps attached. The straps had been used to keep Helmet upright. It was a fine enough chair for a paralyzed man, but the Chins would have to do better if they expected to keep this emperor. The tie downs would have to go, or maybe he would transfer his office chair over. The chair was comfortable, and he was used to it.
"I am not complaining about being an empress," Melna said. "After all, it's every girl's dream. The problem is, husband dear, the empire you gave me. Are you aware your subjects walk everywhere? No horses. No taxi's. I'm a strong girl, but my legs are not up to the challenge."
"How do they herd cattle if they don't ride horses?" Autumn asked.
"They don't," Aybarra answered. "The cattle go where they want. The Chins just pick up camp and follow. Sometimes the herd gets too big and splits. When that happens, the tribe splits, too."
"Other arrangements will need to be made," Aaron assured his wife. "I don't plan on walking across half of creation. In fact, I'll divide my time between the tribes and civilization. I've a larger role to play than to tell them who to attack and how best to do it. If they want me for their emperor, they'll get used to a different way of being ruled."
Heralda entered the tent. Her gait was firm as she made her way toward them. Her Clan face was rigidly still, shifting momentarily toward surprise as her eyes flickered to the side. Moments later, her gaze fastened once more on Aaron.
"He is dead," she said upon reaching him.
"Helmet!"
"The One God did not deem him worthy of healing. Helmet Klein compromised his principles too many times in his quest for power. My God would not heal him, but He did take Helmet Klein to Her bosom so his soul could rest."
"I'll send a messenger to the conferences," Aybarra said quietly. "The Chin delegation won't attend for the next three days. Helmet Klein is dead. Long live the emperor."
* * *
There was no funeral. Instead, Helmet's body was raised on a bier in the center of the Chin compound and left there for two days, during which time, individual Chins stopped by to spend a few moments contemplating what Helmet Klein meant to them. Other dignitaries also arrived. Ambassadors from several countries came to stand before Helmet's body. Aaron wasn't fooled into thinking they paid his friend respect. Most only observed the expected forms.
