The Eclipse of the Zon - First Tremors (The New Eartha Chronicles Book 2)

by R. M. Burgess

  “Was Tyla Dorrina alone in her suit?” asked Hildegard.

  “No, ma’am,” said Megara. “Countess Dorothea appeared and filed a supporting brief.”

  “I see,” said Hildegard. She paused and now cast an obvious glance at Andromache. “Surely you must continue to serve as Lady Asgara’s legal mother. Princess Caitlin’s rights as a Zon mother are unalienable under the law and she has chosen you for that responsibility.”

  Megara and Asgara hugged each other tighter. Megara smiled tiredly. It had been a hard few days for her, struggling to understand the arcane minutiae and proceedings of Zon law. She had been out of her element, facing lawyers and the judge, all quoting and interpreting the complex legal doctrines that had developed over more than a thousand years.

  “Yes, ma’am. She has accepted that I am Lady Asgara’s legal mother. But she has also taken into account that my posting to Daksin is of unspecified duration. Apparently, in such cases, a legal mother’s status may be transferred to another party, if a suitably meritorious candidate can be found.”

  They sat in silence for a few moments, looking down on the twinkling lights of the city.

  “The foremothers who framed our laws were wise,” Hildegard said at length. “There is no more meritorious candidate in the Sisterhood than Princess Andromache. Lady Asgara is fortunate indeed.”

  Asgara had buried her face in Megara’s side to conceal her angry tears. Her words were muffled, but quite clear.

  “You cannot separate me from my mother!”

  BRADAR WEPT FREELY as he hugged Esgrin tight. She did not return his embrace, but she did endure his display of affection with good grace. Lothar, Lovelyn, Pinnar and Guttrin were also in the chamber. His parents and brother looked on indulgently, while Guttrin could not conceal her impatience.

  “I cannot believe my good fortune,” exclaimed Bradar. “I am so happy to have you back, my heart is about to burst with joy!”

  She smiled but did not respond.

  “They released you and sent you here with an escort,” said Lovelyn. “You are sure there was no talk of ransom?”

  “Indeed, ma’am, that is what I expected,” replied Esgrin. “So I kept my ears open throughout, trying to fathom their motives.”

  “And?” asked Lothar, prodding her for details.

  Esgrin turned to him.

  “I am afraid I have little information, Sire,” she said. “They did not speak of money, only of their interest in fulfilling their destinies. Perhaps Shobar had second thoughts, recalling that he is related to you by blood.”

  She smiled, thinking of her nights with Shobar, so different from the routine of her marriage bed. But it was not Shobar’s rough lovemaking that filled her thoughts. His selfish rutting was only the prelude to the intense carnal pleasures she shared in her dreamscape with her incubus. Enveloping her in a cocoon of darkness, he thrilled every one of her senses. And the way Shobar looked at her each morning told her that he knew. Even now she shivered as the memories of that illicit lust made her knees weak.

  She turned her attention back to Bradar. He still held her as though he was afraid that she would disappear if he released her. He kissed her, and she kissed him back dutifully. Finally, she managed to partially disengage herself so only his arm was around her waist.

  “My dear,” she said to him. “Recall the blissful times we spent together in Estrans Castle before Shobar’s attack. I hope that those are the only memories that I retain of our stay in Swarborg.”

  Bradar, Lovelyn, and Pinnar continued to be unstinting in their exclamations of delight at Esgrin’s return, and even Lothar allowed himself a rare grin. Guttrin was more restrained, not happy to find herself under Esgrin’s shadow again.

  That night Bradar was as gentle as ever, and Esgrin feigned great pleasure. He was duly gratified, delighted in his wife and in his marriage. Then he fell into a deep sleep and would not rouse even when she shook him. Satisfied, she lay back, closed her eyes and eagerly awaited her unnatural tryst. Shortly after she drifted into slumber, her incubus came and he did not disappoint her.

  Bradar awoke in the morning to find Esgrin yawning and stretching like a cat, her demeanor marked by a languorous fulfillment. It unsettled him and made him jealous, but he could not understand why.

  THE SUN HAD set, but it was still a gray twilight. As Queen Esme of Briga walked down the cold corridors of the Great Stony Keep, she looked out through the narrow arrow slit windows on to the twisting streets of Dreslin Center and beyond to Outer Dreslin outside the walls of the capital. She stopped for a moment and watched a lamplighter going about his business, lighting each street lamp quickly and efficiently before moving on to the next.

  As per her normal practice, Esme entered the nursery, where two nursemaids and one of her ladies-in-wating were with the royal children. Crown Prince Axel had just finished his post supper homework and his young brother Dolomus sat by him. The princes worked every day with a young tutor who had just graduated from the Thermadan religious school in the capital. Harald had insisted on having all candidates interviewed by Lady Selene Allerand, the Zon Resident, and this tutor was her selection. He was very earnest and Esme could find no fault with his wide-ranging lessons on reading, writing, arithmetic, history, and geography.

  The women jumped up on the queen’s entry. Axel and Dolomus rose and bowed formally to their mother.

  “We were just going to change their young highnesses for bed,” said the more senior of the nursemaids, bobbing a curtsey.

  “Carry on,” said Esme. “Don’t mind me. I will just sit here.”

  She seated herself on a window seat and watched as the nursemaids changed the boys. As she did every day, she observed the boys with a loving mother’s eye. Young Axel was almost as tall as her now. He had Esme’s vivacious personality and dancing eyes and was developing the classic Shelsor nose inherited from his father. Dolomus had a round face and small eyes and was already showing signs of pudginess. He had a mean streak that was particularly apparent to the servants who were subject to his whims. The court was rife with rumors that he was Alumus’s son, and Esme was sure that they originated with Alumus.

  “So how was your day, boys?” she asked.

  “Wonderful, Mother,” said Axel. “Tutor Granus taught us the history of Willum I, our ancestor who established the House of Shelsor.”

  “And what did he tell you?”

  “We are an old house,” said Axel proudly. “It was over six hundred years ago that Willum rose up against the old despot, King Ullavus. He defeated the tyrant’s army in the Battle of Motsk. Then he marched in triumph up the Amu-Shan and the capital opened its gates to him.”

  Ullavus had raped and killed a huntress serving the Zon Ambassadress to Briga. When the Zon Queen Caitlin sent an airship, demanding ten thousand gold talents in damages for his act, he paid it and boasted afterward that it was a small price to pay for the pleasure of violating a huntress. The queen accepted the payment, but she never forgave him. She bided her time, fomenting unrest among the barons in the Northern Marches. Eventually they rose in revolt, led by Willum Shelsor then a minor but charismatic chieftain. When Ullavus sent the mass of his forces against them, the queen sent airboats to support the rebels. It was the microwave disintegrators of the Zon airboats that destroyed Ullavus’s vast army at the Battle of Motsk, but Queen Caitlin declared Willum Shelsor the victor on the field. After the battle, she flew to Dreslin Center and took the lightly defended capital. She personally led the Guardian squad that captured Ullavus and had him roasted alive in Castle Square, earning the epithet “the Unforgiving.” Then she ordered her Guardian commander Soefia Sheel to sack the city. Centuries later, Queen Caitlin’s descendant Princess Deirdre would sack Dreslin Center once again at the end of the War of Brigon Succession.

  Willum Shelsor arrived to find a cowed city, much of it in ruins. The queen was waiting for him with a new, gold-winged Eagle crown crafted in Atlantic City. She placed it on his head, proclaiming h
im Willum I in the Royal Audience Hall before a hastily assembled and sullen gathering of Brigon nobility and gentry. On the same day he swore an oath of fealty, accepting her as his mistress. This completed the Zon conquest of Briga, reducing it to a vassal state of the Sisterhood. The Zon ambassadress was elevated to the position of Resident. Within a year, construct-bots completed the Zon Residency and it had been the real seat of power in Briga ever since.

  Growing up in the House of Hilson, Esme had been brought up to scorn the Shelsors. She now recognized that the truth lay somewhere between the polemics she had been taught, and the version written by the Shelsor scribes. But she thought it best for Axel to believe the official Shelsor version for now.

  “Yes, he was an ancestor to be proud of,” she said to Axel.

  Both boys came to her for hugs before being taken to bed by the nursemaids. They were interrupted by the raised voice of Esme’s lady-in-waiting, who had moved to station herself in the nursery’s anteroom. She now retreated into the nursery saying, “No, no, Your Virtue, this is most improper…”

  Alumus paid no attention to her and came in with a smirk on his face. He had grown plumper over the last few years and lost some more hair. He was just as arrogant and had grown more presumptuous with the king’s blindness. But this intrusion was beyond anything he had attempted thus far.

  “My dear,” he said, addressing Esme familiarly. “I am here to see the princes. I believe it is my right, at least for one of them!”

  “Red Khalif, even the king begs my leave before he enters the nursery,” said Esme stiffly. “Your presence here at this hour is most unseemly. I must entreat you to leave us immediately.”

  “Come, come, my dear,” he remonstrated, striding up to her.

  As she shrank from his touch, she saw a faint blue aura around his form. She blinked, thinking it was something in her eyes, but it was still there. He put an arm around each of the boys and the aura seemed to pulse. Her maternal instincts aroused, she regained her courage and stepped back up, attempting to take his hands off them. Alumus released Dolomus, but his grip around Axel’s shoulders tightened. Too angry to think of calling for help, she struggled to remove his arm from Axel’s shoulders. Alumus took advantage of her focus on Axel to put his free arm around her waist and press her body against his.

  She was now forced to physically wrestle with him. She managed to extricate Axel and put him behind her. Then Alumus put both his arms around her waist and drew her into his arms. Wild with anger at his unwelcome attentions, she drew the thin dagger from her bodice and stabbed him in the bicep. He screamed in terror and backpedalled away from her, clutching his wounded arm. His blue aura was gone.

  “Oh! Oh!” he cried, panicked by sight of his blood leaking through his fingers. “You have killed me, you have murdered me!”

  “Stop sniveling, you worthless piece of dung,” she snapped. “It is a scratch. You will be fine tomorrow. Now get out of here before I call the Life Guards.”

  Alumus continued to wail, but he left the nursery at a half run.

  Esme looked around at the boys, the nursemaids, and her lady-in-waiting. They all looked at her wide-eyed and open-mouthed. She wiped the bloody blade of her dagger on her skirts and returned it to its sheath.

  “His Virtue appears to have suffered a minor mental breakdown,” she said. “We must keep this episode secret. It would do great harm to the Thermadan Mission if it were to become public knowledge. I am sure that none of us wishes to harm the Mission and all its good works.”

  The nursemaids nodded dumbly and led the boys away to their bedchamber. However, her lady-in-waiting stammered, “But Your Highness, he treated you as though…as though…”

  “He was not in command of himself,” said Esme firmly. “You will not repeat this to anyone. Do I have your word?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” she said without raising her eyes.

  Esme was shaken by the encounter with Alumus, for it represented a new and disturbing escalation in his behavior. If he treated her in such a manner in front of her personal staff, she worried about what he might do in public. She desperately wished she had someone to talk this over with. She had over a dozen ladies-in-waiting, but there was no one she could trust. And in spite of their intimacy, this was one secret she could not confide in Harald.

  THE SMALL AUDIENCE chamber of the Great Stony Keep was warm and well lit. There was a cheerful fire in the grate and hundreds of candles brightened the room. The King’s Head Steward had been in the chamber for over an hour. He went around, fussing over every place setting, making sure the wines and other beverages were presented in the most showy manner and even checking on the brass and silver on the King’s Life Guards’ uniforms. The conference table was set for five.

  Alumus, the Red Khalif was the first to arrive. The Life Guards at the door announced him in stentorian tones, “His Virtue, the Red Khalif!”

  The Head Steward hurried forward, bowing deeply.

  “Your Virtue, please follow me,” he said.

  Alumus was led to his seat and took it with assurance. As he sat down, he gingerly felt his left bicep and winced. His bad mood was firmly writ on his face.

  Baron Ratto va Haxos, the king’s First Minister arrived very shortly thereafter. He was announced by the Life Guards and led to his seat at the king’s left. He nodded curtly to Alumus and received a cold stare in response. There was no love lost between them.

  They sat in uncomfortable silence for several minutes before the Life Guards at the door pounded their halberds into the floor and announced King Harald V and Queen Esme. Harald wore eyeball-shaped infrared sensors that the Zon had implanted in place of his burned-out eyes. Esme held his hand tenderly as she led him to the aerie-shaped chair at the head of the conference table. She took the long way around the table to avoid passing by Alumus, fearing the familiarity he might attempt to presume. Never one to conceal his feelings, he glared at her as she progressed around the room and helped Harald to his place. Then she took her own seat at his right hand and looked around the table.

  “Well!” she said brightly. “We are all here and it is still a few minutes before Lady Selene is due.”

  The words had barely left her mouth when the Life Guards at the door pounded their halberds again and announced the Zon Resident in Briga. Lady Selene was her usual tall, commanding self. Her two trailing huntresses wore ceremonial Palace Guardian uniforms, but their long-barreled laser pistols and well-used longswords were all business. She did not appear to notice anyone other than the king and queen. As required by protocol, she gave the royal couple the half bow they were due and remained standing while everyone at the conference table remained seated. Even from her position of apparent subordination, her demeanor conveyed the unmistakable message that she was in charge.

  Harald’s infrared sensors conveyed her tall and svelte outline to his brain. His vivid memories of her did the rest.

  “Lady Selene,” he said. “How wonderful to see you again.”

  “The king and I welcome you,” said Esme with a smile. “We thank you for accepting our last-minute invitation and apologize for the lateness of the hour. Please be seated and join us.”

  One of the huntresses drew back the chair at the foot of the table. She pushed it back with well-rehearsed skill so that it was in perfect position as Lady Selene sat down on it.

  “I am ever at Your Majesties’ service,” said Lady Selene. The Head Steward bustled up with a silver tray laden with a range of drinks. She selected a stem of Brigon apple wine and smiled. “As usual, your hospitality is flawless.”

  “It is our Brigon show of good manners,” said Alumus, his bad mood making his nasty tone even sharper. “We are hospitable even to those we revile.”

  Baron va Haxos cleared his throat, as he always did prior to speaking in company. But Alumus went on before he could speak.

  “You can have no doubt as to why you have been summoned.” With his animal cunning, he knew that emphasizing her formally i
nferior status would nettle her. But her long experience stood her in good stead, and she concealed her irritation. In turn she knew that he could not bear to be belittled. So she completely ignored him and turned to Baron va Haxos, smiling sweetly.

  “My lord baron, I am very keen to hear why you have called this meeting.”

  Alumus turned as red as his robes. However, Lady Selene was used to outmaneuvering him and took little pleasure in it. She gave all her attention to va Haxos, who smiled with bluff good humor as she gave him the floor.

  “Resident Lady Selene, we wish to discuss the security situation in the Southern Marches,” he said. “A detachment of our Desert Patrol has just returned to Dreslin Center. They brought the bodies of two itinerant preachers of the Abaidan branch of the Mission and some Red Sentinels. They were horribly tortured, and their bodies are badly mutilated. The Patrolmen say that large bands of Chekaliga tribesmen are now ranging freely over the Daksin Desert and the western drylands of the Southern Marches.”

  Esme raised her stem of apple wine and sipped while va Haxos spoke. She was inordinately pleased at Alumus’s discomfiture but strove to keep a neutral expression on her face. As soon as va Haxos paused for breath, she spoke.

  “Lady Selene, the king and I are very concerned,” she said. “We hope that you will be able to reassure us that you will soon have the situation under control.”

  Lady Selene did not respond immediately. In her habitual deliberate manner, she sipped her wine and kept her face expressionless.

  “We are monitoring the situation,” she said, setting her stem down. “We stand prepared to support any action you choose to take.”

  They waited for her to continue, but she said no more and allowed the silence to grow pregnant. Finally, Harald spoke.