“They really know how to rejoice,” said Zsurtul, pulling another face as his arm went around his wife’s waist. “I swear I had a hangover for two days!”
“This I have to see,” murmured Kezule, passing a hand across his face. “A Thanksgiving, there will have to be a celebration. The people must have a public celebration.”
“Of course,” said Zsurtul, relaxing finally. “We wouldn’t deprive our people of the chance to celebrate with us. We’ll have a coronation. Zhalmo will rule beside me as my queen. Perhaps you should start the preparations now, and order a new Royal Book to be made, too, for recording our marriage in. We’ll start a new dynasty as King and Queen, one of growth and replenishment for our world. Make sure our allies are invited, please. Toueesut tells me we should arrive in three weeks. I’d like the ceremony to be held two weeks after that.”
“That doesn’t leave us long to prepare, Majesty.”
“Exactly!” Zsurtul grinned. “I don’t want something weighed down with ceremonies. Something simple is fine. Get Conner involved on the religious side, he’ll make sure it’s what we’d be happy with. Oh, and I’ll need a crown for Zhalmo. Make it like mine, but much lighter. You know, the raptor’s head stretched out, the wings wrapped protectively around her head, but feminine looking.”
“I’m sure we can come up with something appropriate, Majesty,” said Kezule, once again inclining his head.
Prime Palace, evening
“Shaidan, do you go to the pool every night?” asked Kitra as she accepted the bowl of vegetables that the cub passed to her.
“Most nights,” Shaidan replied, spooning his stew into his mouth hungrily. “Gaylla comes with me sometimes.” I play with her when she does, he added mentally. “It’s not as much fun as going to the river, though.”
“We’ll have to arrange another outing there, then,” said Dzaka, picking up the water jug and refilling Gaylla’s glass.
“I’se really good at swimming now,” said Gaylla, carefully laying down her spoon and reaching for her glass of water with both hands.
Shaidan’s attention was instantly on her.
“Is not too heavy, Shaidan,” she said, placing it back on the table beside her and lowering her mouth to it for a noisy slurp. “See? Don’t have to even hold it!”
“Maybe not so full next time,” Kitra said quietly to her mate.
“Mmm,” said Dzaka, eyeing Gaylla’s tall glass.
“Shaidan’s teaching me diving,” said Gaylla, picking up her spoon again. “He frows fings to the bottom for us to get.”
“Only in the shallow water,” said Shaidan, turning his attention back to his food. “All the Brothers can swim, it’s part of their training.”
“It certainly is,” said Dzaka. “Just like the exercise and meditation classes you are already getting.”
“It’s boring,” said Shaylor. “I want to do real training.”
“You are getting real training,” said Kitra.
“All training depends on being able to follow orders, even if they are boring,” said Dzaka.
Vazih pulled a face. “But we know all the meditation stuff! All we do is keep practicing it over and over again.”
“Practice makes perfect,” said Kitra. “You’re doing exactly what you should be doing at your age.”
“But we aren’t, are we?” said Shaidan, looking up at her. “We know so much more than kitlings our age, even if you think of us as ten years old.”
“You’re doing what is appropriate for ten-year-olds,” said Kitra firmly, pushing her empty plate aside.
“No. At Stronghold, Uncle Dzaka was doing Warrior training before then.”
“You don’t know that for sure . . .”
“I do,” said Shaidan, reaching for his own glass of water. “I know because Father knew. Uncle Dzaka trained with the other younglings there. And Dhyshac is already doing proper Brotherhood training. I know everything Dhyshac knows.”
“Those were, and are, different circumstances,” said Dzaka firmly.
“You’re training, Aunty Kitra,” said Gaylla, licking the last of her stew off her spoon. “And you isn’t all grown up either!”
“Perhaps we can look at expanding your training,” said Dzaka, suppressing a smile. “Get you doing some of the things I did when I was ten. You’re still young and your bodies are still growing, so there are some things you shouldn’t do yet. I’ll speak to your training officer tomorrow, see what we can come up with.”
Don’t you dare smile at me, Dzaka Tallinu! sent Kitra.
I wouldn’t dream of it, he replied, straight faced.
“Learning to march around the barracks wasn’t what I was thinking about,” said Shaidan, leaning his elbows on the table and propping his chin up with his hands. “The Warrior Guild teaches everyone fighting when they’re cubs. It builds muscle memory as they grow older. And real muscles,” he added.
He watched Dzaka’s ears twitch slightly in an involuntary acknowledgment of the verbal hit. “We’ll see,” his uncle temporized. “Not everyone is a Warrior within the Brotherhood, Shaidan. Some, like me, prefer the priestly side.”
“You can still bless your enemies with weapons or fists,” Shaidan pointed out.
Caught taking a drink of water, Kitra began to cough, giving Dzaka the excuse of seeing to her.
“I will consider it,” he said firmly as he rescued his life-mate’s drink and began thumping her carefully on the back.
Gods, he is SO like my brother, Kusac! Kitra sent to Dzaka as her coughs subsided. Even down to the way he sits and looks at you so seriously!
After dinner, the younglings were allowed time to themselves which they could spend in any communal area on the high-security fourth floor. This included the library with its entertainment units as well as the books, the gym, the small enclosed garden, and the pool.
Swiftly, Shaidan headed for the library. He should have about an hour to himself, time enough for what he wanted to do. The others were playing in the nursery, making puzzles, and playing with the new board games that had been brought down from one of the Sholan ships up at the space orbital.
He’d found the latch for the hidden passage quite by accident while looking for more signs of the alien network he’d sensed in the pool room before his mother and father had left on their mission.
Slipping into the library, he closed the door behind him, going over to the fireplace. The wooden mantle and side pieces around the fireplace were carved into the likenesses of intertwined reptiles and their nests. The trigger spot was tiny, it was the carved claw of a reptile sitting on its nest, one that if you looked at it in the right light was shinier than the others. Reaching out, he pressed it carefully.
Silently, a narrow wood panel to the right of the fireplace began to open like a door. As soon as the gap was wide enough, he slipped through, shutting the panel behind him.
A small flashlight gave him enough light to see by, and he headed confidently down the narrow passageway. This wasn’t his first visit; he’d been along it several times before. The first time, he’d sneaked out of bed in the dead of night to explore. The passage sloped rapidly downward, leading him into a kind of square spiral down to the ground floor where another wooden panel let him out at the back of the priests’ preparation area. Staying in the shadows of the empty room, it was only a short distance until he was outside in the central courtyard.
Hiding in a patch of deep shadow, he took a minute to calm his thoughts before beginning to project a sense that he wasn’t there, that if anyone looked his way, their gaze would pass over him and he’d be unnoticed. The Primes, with their natural blocking ability, had been a challenge at first, but now he had it exactly right. Neither Sholans nor Primes would notice him, unless they were specifically looking for him.
Silent and as unobserved as a ghost, he slipped into the night and
headed for one of the replanted pools in the center of the courtyard. There, he concealed himself among the bushes, making himself comfortable in the small hollow he had made during his previous visits. He liked to be among people and just watch them. He loved the noise, their laughter; it was all so very different from the secluded life he and the others were living right now.
Ghioass, same evening
Zaimiss was on his way to the Camarilla building when his personal comm unit beeped him. Answering it, he found a distressed Rekkur on the other end.
“Leader Zaimiss, I went to check on our agent and found . . . I found . . . You must see for yourself! It is terrible! Come quickly!” The line went dead.
Clicking his annoyance, Zaimiss tried to raise Rekkur again to no avail. “Details!” he muttered. “Details I need, you fool!” Anything could be wrong! There could be personal danger for him, never mind any other consideration.
A public comm terminal was nearby; ducking into it, he used his own comm to call up Tinzaa. She was sensible, grounded, and Cabbaran, like Rekkur. She could handle physical situations of danger and stress, unlike himself, a TeLaxaudin.
“Tinzaa, I need you to check on Rekkur at our center,” he said. “Some crisis he claims there is, and I cannot attend to it at this moment.”
“Certainly, Leader Zaimiss. I will report back when I have news.”
There, it was settled, he thought, ending the call. It might be expedient to head for the Council chamber and see who was not there. That information might prove useful, depending on the outcome of Tinzaa’s investigation.
* * *
“Dead? How can he be dead?” demanded Zaimiss, forcing himself to remain upright when every instinct wanted him to sit on the floor and fold himself up into the smallest shape he could manage.
“Too much blood lost,” said Tinzaa. “His weapons, scraps of clothing, all there. Would one of your people be without their arsenal and still be alive?”
“No TeLaxaudin voluntarily will give up his arsenal,” admitted Zaimiss, eyes whirling in consternation as he adjusted his sight to focus on the Cabbaran standing by the door of their small, private meeting room. “Is it his blood?”
“Unity confirmed that it was,” said Rekkur.
“You told Unity? What possessed you to do that? Now there will be investigation, reports to make, accounting to be done!”
“I . . . I thought it was what we did,” stammered the young Cabbaran, sitting back on his haunches and waving his hooves in distress.
“You did right,” said Tinzaa soothingly. “Not to report it would have been worse. What did Unity say?”
“That the evidence suggested an accident had befallen Lassimiss. Some severe impact, or impacts, had struck him, knocking free his translocator and other items on his person.”
“The impact must have triggered his translocator,” said Tinzaa thoughtfully, stroking his whiskers. “I suspect that he was thrown against something, and the fall fatally wounded him, considering how much bodily fluid was on his belongings and the bits of his draperies that were entangled with the translocator.”
“Did Unity ask what Lassimiss was doing prior to the event?” demanded Zaimiss.
“Yes, but I told it I didn’t know,” said Rekkur. “It said we should investigate and give it our findings.”
“Well, it is obvious what’s happened,” said Dhaimass, her tone sharp. “That damned sand-dweller has killed him! We knew he was violent, unlike his brother. He’s been demanding we make the matter transformer available to him, give him weapons to win this war of unification! Well, now he’s killed our agent.”
“It certainly seems that way,” agreed Zaimiss, stalking over to the table where a variety of drinks were laid out in chilled containers. He picked up one containing fruit juice and poured some into one of the wide-mouthed bowls. “It is unfortunate that our agent should have met with an accident in the labs on the Prime world,” he said. “Those crates were none too stable Kouansishus told us in his last report. Lassimiss must have been careless, knocked one of the stacks over when transferring the supplies he carried there.” He stopped to dip his tongue into the fruit juice and take a long drink.
“Sadly, we will be unable to replace him,” he continued. “The sand-dweller Emperor will have to manage his war without any more help from us.”
“Good,” said Dhaimass, humming with approval as she approached the drinks table. “You have solved the problem of Lassimiss’ untimely death in an acceptable fashion, and are denying any further aid to the sand-dwellers. I shall see that Lassimiss’ Skepp are given what remains of him. Rekkur, send one of the U’Churian servants for an appropriate container from the nearest mortician, then package up what remains for me.”
“Yes, Skepp Lady,” murmured Rekkur, backing hastily toward the door.
“It is a pity,” said Zaimiss. “This incident does limit our influence on them, but with the plan to poison them all in the makings right now, their threat will hopefully be erased soon. It isn’t necessary for us to have a spy in their midst any longer.”
“Assuming that the matter transformer had created enough of the self-replicating poison units, and released them before it unaccountably turned itself off,” said Tinzaa.
“If it didn’t, then there is always the Hunter’s plan,” said Dhaimass. “And we can always send a covert agent down to scout out the situation if need be.”
“That we can do,” agreed Zaimiss, settling himself on a comfortable pile of cushions.
M’zull, Palace of the Sun, evening
“What is it, Ziosh?” demanded K’hedduk, not even looking up from his desk as Zerdish escorted the Head Inquisitor into his office. “Couldn’t it wait until tomorrow?”
“Not unless you want our discussion regarding the costs of the attack on the Prime world to be made public,” said Ziosh, moving toward the seat in front of K’hedduk’s desk and settling himself in it.
K’hedduk glanced up to see Zerdish returning to his post by the door. “What about it?” he snapped, turning to look at the Inquisitor. “It had to be done. We had no way of knowing that Kezule planned an attack, and brought two other species with him as allies! As far as our Intel knew, he had left the Prime world permanently. And a factor you are forgetting is that my communications with here had been rerouted. I had no backup when I expected the Generals to send their fleets to support my taking of the capital world!”
“I’m not talking about your taking, and losing, of K’oish’ik,” the other said, frowning. “I’m talking of the fleet you sent after you returned. You lost thirty-five ships on that wasted venture. Ships we could ill afford to lose.”
“I could not afford to let that insult go unpunished,” K’hedduk hissed.
“Instead, you gave them another victory,” said Ziosh, clasping his hands on his lap. “Had you waited, you would have discovered . . .”
“Discovered what? We had no way of knowing that the Sholans and others would ally with them!”
“Surely you saw their ships as you left the planet?”
“I was fleeing for my life,” said K’hedduk angrily, his nails scoring grooves in his desk as he attempted not to clench his hands. “I didn’t have time to look around!”
“Be that as it may,” said Ziosh. “The loss of thirty-five ships has hit the Treasury hard. We need more resources if those ships are to be replaced. For now, we need to concentrate on recovering more of the assets available on the planet J’kirtikk.”
“We need to focus on rebuilding the Third Fleet and preparing to attack K’oish’ik.”
“We don’t have the resources . . .”
“You forget yourself, Ziosh,” said K’hedduk coldly. “I am Emperor here, and while that may be your opinion, yours is not the one that counts.”
Ziosh unclasped his hands and began to rise. “On the contrary, Emperor, you will find
that the opinion of the Treasury matters a great deal to you. I control that office. We will resume the missions to J’kirtikk in the meantime, and continue to build up our resources.” He bowed toward K’hedduk. “Thank you for this chat, Majesty. It has been most . . . informative.”
K’hedduk watched him leave in silence. “What kind of Emperor was my brother that he let this . . . person rule the court?” he demanded of Zerdish when the priest had left.
“Toward the end of his reign, your brother preferred not to be concerned with the day-to-day running of the Empire,” said the bodyguard, venturing further into the room. “Can I get anything for you, Majesty? Perhaps a drink?”
“I need to be rid of Ziosh, and now!” he hissed in anger, sitting back in his chair. “How does the court view him? Does he have much support?”
“They are afraid of him, Majesty, of course. Inquisitors were also the secret police of your brother, watching everyone for any signs of disloyalty. The Generals believe Ziosh only backed your coup because he saw it as inevitable. I am sure they would enjoy seeing him replaced,” said Zerdish carefully.
“Replaced be damned! I want the lot of them gone! We’re a military people. It is unconscionable that any religion should hold so great a place on our planet! It is time I made it clear to the Generals just who is holding back our plans to restore the Empire. Get me a list of those who would back me against the Inquisitors, Zerdish.”
“We’re short a General now, with the death of old Lord Nayash,” said Zerdish.
“The place would normally go to his son, yes,” said K’hedduk thoughtfully. “I’m seeing him tomorrow, after the Dawn Rites. Invite him for breakfast. I want the time to point out to him just how useful he could become to the Empire, and how quickly he could rise in its ranks if he allies himself to me. He’s young, and we need more younger males in positions of authority in the Court. There are too many old fossils around as it is. How are things progressing with that female you took from the mountains?”
Circle's End Page 7
