Ekateri took a minute to show Greghar and Nitya into the brightly lit waiting room before joining Dannae in walking through the cleansing spray into the operating theater.
“Princess Deirdre is dead,” she said, quietly and without drama. “It is Princess Caitlin now.”
“Oh,” said Dannae, not quite sure how to respond. “What a tragedy!”
They both turned their attention to the work at hand. The emergency medical team had completed their set up, and the patient was now prepped and ready. An assistant draped a surgical gown over Dannae’s head, and while she was hampered by her protruding middle, her hands were steady and sure. The two medicae worked together seamlessly, each appreciative of the other’s skills.
MEANWHILE, HILDEGARD, ANDROMACHE, Diana, and Hebe were back together in the command stateroom, seated at the conference table.
“I’ve found quarters for Durga Bodina and her Maidens, ma’am,” Diana was saying. “They are appreciative of the government’s support. Durga feels we have a common cause in Ostracis.”
“Indeed we do,” said Hildegard pensively. “As Utrean theater commander, what do you recommend?”
“I recommend we give her a squadron of airboats, ma’am,” said Diana promptly. “She has two squads of Maidens here, one aboard and one encamped in the Steefen Gorge. With the airboats, she can bring up reinforcements from Simrania, raising her strength to a century or more. From her reconnaissance and rescue mission into Ostracis, she is confident that those numbers would be sufficient to retake the citadel.”
Hildegard looked over at Hebe.
“Ma’am, under normal circumstances I would be wary of an alliance with the Maidens,” she said carefully. “But as we all know, these are not normal times. We do not have the strength to retake Ostracis ourselves, and giving the task to the Maidens is currently our best option. However, I wonder if a century will be enough. The barbarians defeated two centuries in taking the citadel. And I have a further worry. If the Maidens succeed in Ostracis, what is to stop them from continuing warfare against our allies like Arch Baron Karstein Tenus?”
“We can cross that bridge when we come to it,” said Diana. “Recall, our two centuries were surprised and did not expect an enemy armed with ’grators. Durga is no fool; she knows what she is dealing with. She also knows that Shobar and his loyalists like Nestar Crogus are the main enemy, especially after what she has seen at Ostracis. She will not turn her sights to other targets till he is found and destroyed.”
Hebe looked dubious, and Andromache spoke up.
“Ma’am, I must register my most serious reservations. We will all live to regret arming these extremists.”
“I share your worry, High Priestess, but we have little choice,” said Hildegard. “We cannot spare units to retake Ostracis. Every day it is under the Skull Watch is like a barb in my heart. Cornelle, please select a squadron and transfer it to Durga Bodina’s command. Now, I take it we are back on course for Vesterans?”
“Yes, ma’am,” said Hebe.
“And we have recovered Princess Caitlin,” said Diana, moving to the subject she knew was on all of their minds. “She is badly injured and is currently in the operating theatre.”
Andromache could not stop her eyes from filling with tears at Diana’s mention of “Princess Caitlin,” for it reemphasized that Deirdre was gone. She wiped her eyes delicately and spoke in a low tone.
“How was she injured? When can we see her?”
“Ma’am, Princess Andromache, I have also spoken to the barbarian, Greghar,” said Diana. “He has been traveling with Princess Caitlin for some time. Between his account and Durga’s, I have most of the story. It does not make for easy listening.”
Hildegard’s face registered a flash of excitement at the mention of Greghar’s name. It came and went in an instant. Inwardly she blessed Deirdre, for she had been true to the death—the huntresses had not harmed Greghar. Diana was the only one whose sharp eyes caught the look, but she feigned ignorance and retold what she had learned from Durga and Greghar without embellishment.
“Tortured by the Skull Watch! A shattered femur! Oh, my poor orphan child!” cried Andromache, wringing her hands, her heart-shaped face alive with concern.
“Durga says that she has seen worse,” said Diana, without emotion. “She’s in good hands now. She’s lucky to have Medica Dannae operating on her—she’s one of the best in the business. She’ll have a shiny new femur, ulna, and radius, as well as a rebuilt thigh and forearm, and be as good as new in a few weeks. Better, in fact. Metal skeletons are so much more durable than bone ones.”
“Where are the barbarians?” asked Hildegard with elaborate nonchalance. “There is a young girl, I believe? The one whose trial started the whole business in Briga.”
“In the sick bay, waiting for Princess Caitlin to come out of the operating theatre,” said Diana. “She seems to have attracted quite a barbarian following. Nestar Crogus wished to make her his bride and baroness, and the barbarians Greghar and Nitya seem to be as worried about her as we are.”
“She must be told of her mother’s death,” said Hebe practically. “Better that it is broken to her gently by someone close to her. Everyone is talking about it, and she may well overhear some stray conversation.”
“I will tell her,” said Andromache, swallowing a lump in her throat. “But not till she is stronger.”
Hebe stood, saying, “I must return to the bridge, ma’am.” After Hebe had left and the portal hissed shut behind her, Diana saw Hildegard and Andromache share a quick look.
“Cornelle Diana,” said Andromache casually. “This barbarian, Greghar. Is he not the son of the late King Jondolar of Utrea?”
“Yes, Princess,” said Diana.
“So he is the nephew of Arch Baron Lothar, is he not?”
“The bastard nephew, yes,” said Diana, watching Hildegard out of the corner of her eye. As she expected, her reference to Greghar as a ‘bastard’ brought the briefest flicker of emotion to Hildegard’s eyes.
“It would appear that this Greghar may be useful to us in our negotiations with Lothar,” continued Andromache. “I suggest we speak with him.”
“Shall I have him brought here in force restraints, ma’am?” asked Diana, turning to Hildegard.
“No, no,” said Hildegard, a little too quickly. “Let us go down to the sick bay.”
Accompanied by two Guardians, the three of them made their way down to the sick bay waiting room. The Guardians led the way in, followed by Diana. Greghar was engaged in an elaborate game of Nitya’s devising and disengaged himself to face the tall Guardians.
“Lady Death,” he said formally in Pranto.
“There is someone who wishes to see you,” Diana returned, stepping aside from the portal.
Hildegard and Andromache entered. Greghar looked stunned, and there was an awkward silence. Hildegard’s expression was kindly, and she spoke gently.
“They tell me you are the son of the late King Jondolar,” she said.
Greghar took a few steps forward, prompting the Guardians to draw their pistols. Hildegard was not short, but Greghar towered over her. He knelt before her and bent his head so that his eyes were focused on her feet.
“I am yours to command, Your Majesty,” he said humbly. “I am but a bastard son of no account.”
Hildegard was sorely tempted to run her fingers through his thick ash-blond ringlets that were so like her own. He is so handsome and has such a noble mien, she thought with a mother’s pride. Diana and Andromache, who knew their true relationship, found the mutual resemblance almost impossible to ignore. With great difficulty, Hildegard kept her face emotionless and her voice flat and official.
“Thank you for your expression of fealty, Utrean,” she said. “Rise. I place great value on your offer of service, and I will avail of it. You will be brought to my command stateroom, where I will speak with you further.” She turned to Diana. “Please see to it, Cornelle.”
“I hea
r and obey,” said Diana with a smile.
As soon as the queen and Andromache left the sick bay, Diana spoke to Greghar.
“Give all your weapons to my Guardians, Greghar,” she said. “It would be a pity if a huntress shot you by mistake.”
A short while later, they were back in the command stateroom. Hildegard and Andromache sat at the conference table with Diana at their side while Greghar stood facing them. Two Guardians stood by the portal. From time to time, Andromache and Diana cast sidelong glances at each other.
“Greghar,” said Hildegard. “We are on our way to Vesterans. We seek an alliance with your uncle, Arch Baron Lothar. What is the state of your relationship with him? Can you help us?”
“I traveled to Vesterans some years ago, when I came of age,” said Greghar. Responding to Hildegard, his speech took on the High Zon accent she had taught him as a child. “I begged Lothar to gather his barons to fight Shobar for the Masthead throne. But he demurred, as he did not want to plunge the land into war. Now, with Lady Caitlin and the girl Nitya, I was on my way to seek refuge with him. I had hopes of changing his mind in light of Utrea’s years of suffering under Shobar’s misrule. So if an alliance with the Sisterhood is what it takes to install Lothar as king of Utrea, I will do my utmost to bring it about. But there must be safeguards—Utrea prospered while my father’s Zon alliance lasted, but it ended badly. I would not have that happen again.”
Diana flushed and looked straight ahead.
“I will guarantee it,” said Hildegard, her voice growing hard. “The Legions will be party to any alliance, and we will accede to ironclad safeguards to protect the interests of both sides.”
Back in the sick bay waiting room, Nitya sat by herself, patiently waiting for Caitlin. She sat cross-legged on the thick carpet with her eyes closed and continued her chant of power, over and over. Her eyes fluttered open when she heard steps, but they passed her portal and kept going. There was a low table at the opposite end of the room, and on it was a dish with some decorative metallic balls. Unconsciously she focused her thoughts on them, meditating on the word “Rise!” The topmost ball slowly but steadily rose into the air. With some regimentation, she found she could move another and then another. Soon she had all of them hanging in the air. On a whim, she held one steady and moved the others in orbits around it, like a miniature planetary system. Then she heard the hiss of the portal and broke her concentration, dropping all the balls onto the carpet.
A medical attendant in a crisp white uniform stood at the open portal.
“Princess Caitlin is through her surgery and is asking for you,” she said.
ONCE AGAIN, DARBENI found herself in the stateroom of Vivia’s large personal airboat. However, this time the airboat was crewed by two squads of Palace Guardians. They worked with quiet efficiency. Alex sat with Darbeni in the stateroom, sipping sparkling water from a roc-glass stem. She wore a Pragarina Enterprises aircrew uniform. She turned the stem appreciatively in her hands, enjoying the feel and color of the roc-glass.
Darbeni was dressed in a musk-lace gown almost as exquisite as the kanjiam gown she had worn on her last visit with Kantus. Vivia’s personal beautician was just putting the finishing touches on her coiffure and makeup. When she was done, she walked around the Chief Counsel, inspecting her handiwork.
“Quite exquisite,” she said with satisfaction. “What do you think, Centuria Lady Alexandra?”
“Lovely,” said Alex absently, scrolling through comm messages projected from her wrist bracer.
“Would you like me to work on your hair and face, Lady Alexandra?” she asked guilelessly. “You have such beautiful, thick, blonde hair. I could make you look as striking as Princess Deirdre.”
“No!” Alex snapped, the naïve reference to Deirdre striking a raw nerve. “I have no wish to look like a party doll.”
The beautician looked hurt.
“I only wish to serve,” she said. “I meant no harm.”
“It is not your fault,” said Alex, regretting her outburst. “You may go.”
Once they were alone, Alex looked at Darbeni more carefully.
“She was right, you do look stunning,” she said appreciatively. “You conceal it well in your normal turnout, but you are more beautiful than Vivia. Probably a good idea, given how vain she is.”
“Don’t try to drive a wedge between my mother and me,” said Darbeni. Her tone was playful, but they both knew she was serious.
The pilot came on the airboat comm. “We are approaching the quarry, Centuria,” she said. “Our bio-scanners indicate a troop of at least fifty barbarians, maybe more.”
Alex and Darbeni rose and walked forward to the cockpit. The pilot pointed to the scanners.
“Switch to camera mode,” said Alex.
The pilot hit a toggle switch, and the screens switched over. The image was sharp and very clear. Alex leaned forward and touched the screen with her fingers, moving the camera angle and panning over the entire group of barbarians. They were mounted on warhorses and were heavily armed with lances, shields, and an assortment of other weaponry. Their helmets had the characteristic ridges that marked them as Hilson slayers.
“Perfect,” said Alex. “Land about two hundred meters away near the mouth of the quarry. Let us make them ride to us. Land with our beam to them so the squads can take cover and conceal themselves behind the airboat.” She turned to Darbeni. “Are you ready? I will be right there by your side.”
Just seeing Kantus on the screen had drained the color from Darbeni’s face. Her eyes grew wide, and she trembled.
“I am very frightened, Lady Alexandra,” she said truthfully. “I would give anything to avoid facing Cheval Kantus Hilson again.”
“Don’t worry,” said Alex soothingly. “It will all be over very soon. And don’t try to look too brave. He will expect you to look frightened, as you did on your last visit.”
The airboat landed as Alex directed. The two Guardian squads filed out of the copilot’s exit, concealed from the barbarians by the bulk of the airboat. Alex and Darbeni walked back amidships. The pilot hit the main hatch release, and it hissed open, the ramp extending down to the quarry floor. Alex walked down the ramp, comforted by the weight of the laser pistol on her hip. She took up a position by the ramp, as though she were serving Darbeni. The Chief Counsel walked down the ramp stiffly, eyes straight ahead. She stood at the bottom of the incline with Alex at her elbow. There was a cold wind blowing that picked at her fine musk-lace gown. It kicked up and blew a fine mist of snow through the air. The few snowflakes that got through her temperature shield settled on her hair and bare shoulders and melted into dewy droplets that shone like pearls in the winter sunshine.
Kantus put his spurs to his horse and cantered forward, calling over his shoulder, “The ten of you who participated in the ambush, follow me to collect the reward High Mistress Vivia has promised. The rest of you stand fast. I will call you up when I need you to move the dynamite.”
Alex watched the formation of eleven horsemen detach itself from the rest of the troop and canter forward.
“Here they come,” she said into the comm to the two Guardian squads. “Ready on my mark.”
The jingling harnesses of the approaching horses wore on Darbeni’s nerves. Dressed in her finery, she was an incongruous sight in the quarry. It was the same desolate spot where Vivia had set events in motion by demonstrating the power of dynamite to the Hilsons. But now the quarry floor was covered with a blanket of fresh snow.
Kantus was smiling now, anticipating a glorious future. With the new stocks of dynamite, I will take Aurora, he thought. A grateful King Artor will make me a baron, maybe even a duke! After all, with Artor on the throne, the duchy of the Northern Marches is now vacant, and who better to fill it than another battle-tested Hilson? And this rich and beautiful young Zon, who nearly swooned in my arms at our last meeting—she will make a fine second wife. There were sparks between us!
He drew rein a few meters from
the airboat and looked down at Darbeni. Her show of bare skin went to his head like a drug. He noted Alex’s laser pistol, but her lone figure did not unduly worry him.
“Why, my delicate flower,” he said to Darbeni in a cloying voice. “You are trembling like a leaf! Don’t worry; with me to protect you, you need fear nothing.”
He swung down from his saddle and walked up to her.
“Cheval Hilson, how good of you to come,” she said, blinking in the bright sunshine reflecting off the snow. She wished she had remembered to wear a dark vision. “I bring you the warmest greetings from High Mistress Vivia Pragarina. As per our agreement, I have brought both payment and weapons.”
Kantus took another step toward her and took both her hands in his.
“We are so good together, Chief Counsel Darbeni,” he said, looking at her with a passion that was obvious to all present. “You gave me so much cause for hope at our last meeting—thoughts of your beauty have kept me awake at night. Once we take Aurora, I will have much to offer you. And I promise you, you will have no need for fear ever again.”
Darbeni was too terrified to respond. Alex waited impatiently for her to play her part, but she was tongue-tied with fright. Fortunately, Kantus did her job for her without prompting.
“These are the ten Hilson slayers who participated in the ambush that killed Princess Deirdre,” he said with a nod over his shoulder. “I have brought them forward so that you can congratulate them and pay them yourself. They are my picked men.” He looked at her significantly. “And when you are by my side, they will serve you with just as much loyalty.”
Alex stepped forward.
“Chief Counsel, I suggest you come into the airboat to count out the money,” she said smoothly. “I am sure we wish these men to receive their just desserts.”
Darbeni’s warm hands felt so good in his that Kantus released them with reluctance. Her eyelids fluttered when he freed her, a mannerism he found utterly charming. She turned and quickly walked up the ramp, his eyes following her bare back till she disappeared from sight.
The Empire of the Zon Page 54
