by Alma Boykin
The next morning, Commander Ni Drako appeared at the early meal with a new limp and a rueful expression. “Ni Drako, is something wrong?” Daesar asked.
She settled carefully onto a cushion. “One of my soldiers learned quicker than I had anticipated, my lord. I seem to have pulled some muscles when I dodged his attack this morning.” As she said this, she kept her hand under the table so he wouldn’t see her crossed fingers.
“Will you be able to go out today?” he asked with some concern, since he would probably have to take her position if she were incapacitated.
“I believe so, my lord, but I may fall behind from time to time,” the Wanderer advised the reddish-brown noble. Sheedak, also in the room, made sympathetic noises. Rada noted that his sympathy stopped at the tip of his tongue. Shi-dan snorted and made an acid comment about her chronic slowness when he noticed her impairment.
In light of her injury, she carried a small but powerful two-shot crossbow, in addition to the usual spears and her hold-out blaster. That way even if she trailed behind, she could still act quickly if the need arose. And indeed, despite her best efforts, Rada dropped back several times, although she managed to catch up when the main group stopped for a stalk or water pause. Bis-Tahbi got a talkak sow early in the morning and the two servants accompanying the hunters carried the large carcass back to the manor where it would serve as that night’s supper. That left the nobles alone and Rada went on alert.
She’d been walking along the edges of the trail, where there were trails, with the excuse that the softer soil “helped her injured leg.” Only Shi-dan knew enough about mammalian anatomy to realize the falsehood, but he said nothing. Rada needed to be able to slip into the brush as quickly as possible if the need arose. The suspect trio said and did nothing for quite a while, until the group had reached a fair-sized clearing almost fifteen kliqs from the manor. Everyone disarmed, or seemed to. Rada hung the crossbow on her belt and appeared to leave the quarrel-headed bolts with the rest of her pack.
“Oh fewmets,” Prince Bis-Tahbi swore, studying his weapons. “I’ve dropped my hunting knife.”
“The blue-handled one?” Sheedak inquired, casting a glance back at the Lord Defender, who appeared to be watching some birds, oblivious to Sheedak’s motion.
“Yes.”
Tarkeela volunteered, “I think I saw something blue beside the trail two kliqs back.”
Shi-dan frowned. “Then why did you not pick it up or see what it was at least?” Tarkeela stuttered something before the King-Emperor waved him to silence. “Ni Drako, can you be back before we move on?”
Rada nodded. Not only had she seen the prince drop the knife, she’d picked it up and tucked the blade into her boot top, then draped her breeches over the hilt. “Yes, Imperial Majesty. Shall I retrieve it?”
“Go,” the dark brown reptile ordered, and she bowed and disappeared after picking up her canteen.
Rada limped about half a kliq down the trail, then slipped into the brush, sneaking back to the others. As she did, her “injury” vanished and she eased into a position behind the bole of a fallen and rotting tree, where she could see the clearing but was screened by the brush. She pulled two crossbow bolts out of the dagger pocket in her other boot and loaded the weapon, part cocked it, and engaged the safety. Then she waited.
The conspirators did not wait long. After some murmuring and positioning, Tarkeela and Sheedak joined Prince Bis-Tahbi in a group, facing Shi-dan. Apparently Sheedak had been appointed spokesman (“plausible deniability” Rada would later learn to call it), because he approached the King-Emperor and made the Azdhagi version of clearing his throat.
“Yes?” Shi-Dan inquired from his seat.
“Imperial Majesty, I regret having to bring up an unpleasant subject at such a pleasant venue, but there are grave concerns among your people regarding your choice of Lord Defender and about some of your other recent actions.” Sheedak began in tones of deep sincerity and profound respect.
The King-Emperor’s tail twitched slightly and Rada watched his neck spines shiver just the slightest bit. Oh, someone’s underestimated his overlord the Wanderer laughed, cocking the crossbow and rising into a position from which she could fire if needed. As she did, she sent a hint of thought towards Shi-dan, who looked straight at her position and nodded ever so slightly.
He turned his gaze to the others and in a remarkably mild tone inquired, “What sort of concerns?”
Sheedak advanced a step towards his overlord. “Imperial Majesty, your motion to require previous military service before anyone can serve as a planetary governor will greatly diminish the number of qualified candidates available for the task. There are also rumors that you plan to ennoble a number of common families, while allowing older noble houses to die out, which has raised fears among several of the oldest but small Houses, such as Blee and Kirlin. And as I said before, your appointing a mammal as Lord Defender. No doubt you know more about the female than do the rest of us, and you have the best of motives,” Sheedak assured his ruler, “but you’ve offended most of the Great Lords as well as creating a grave security risk. She is a mercenary, after all, and can you be certain she will stay bought?”
For that alone Rada could have killed the scaly bastard, but she held her fire. Shi-dan seemed to consider the trio’s concerns and cautions. “And what do you suggest We do about these matters?”
Tarkeela took up the challenge. “Dismiss Ni Drako and ensure that what she knows will not endanger your Imperial Majesty’s holdings. Ennoble perhaps one or two more commoners, but slowly, and make certain that they know their place.” At this Lord Daesar frowned, but kept silent. He also backed away from the trio as Tarkeela continued, “Perhaps ease the requirement for military service. Would not administrative service suffice to provide experience in governing?”
“We are puzzled by your reference to the Lord Defender. Does the Court feel she should be imprisoned or otherwise confined so that she cannot sell her knowledge?” Shi-dan wanted to know.
Bis-Tahbi swept his forefoot and tapped his tail on the ground with mock sadness. “If that would work, Honored Sire, then certainly. But many members of Court feel that only death will be secure enough to hold what she has learned.”
“We see,” Shi-dan replied soberly. “And if We choose to reject these suggestions and observations?”
Sheedak stepped back a pace and Rada swallowed a curse. The three now stood in a line, with Bis-Tahbi a muzzle-length ahead of Tarkeela, so she only had a clear shot at Sheedak. Sheedak spoke sadly but firmly, “Imperial Majesty, if you choose to reject well-reasoned and sound advice from those who only have the Empire and your best interests in mind, then it is apparent that you have lost some part of your sanity, and it will be better for your to abdicate, in favor of your heir.”
Shi-dan rose to his feet and the others drew back just a fraction. Anger snapped in his green-black eyes and his massive neck spines flared full. “And if We refuse?”
Sheedak took the bait. “Then the best interests of the Empire demand your removal.”
“Are you absolutely certain of this, Lord Sheedak?” The deadly calm in Shi-dan’s voice made Rada’s fur stand on end even as she rose to a kneeling position and took aim.
“I believe the Court is, Imperial Majesty,” Sheedak announced.
Either Lord Sheedak was blind and deaf or the fool had a deathwish, Rada thought as she watched not the nobles, but the King-Emperor. Shi-dan listened to the declaration, looked towards where Rada crouched, and twitched his tail. She had the range calculated to a centimeter and the crossbow quarrel found its mark in Sheedak’s heart. Sheedak had just enough time to realize that he was dead before he hit the ground. The others stared in disbelief at the former plotter and Rada reloaded her weapon, waiting.
Shi-dan strode up to Sheedak’s remains, glanced at them and then turned to the other three nobles. “We have considered his request, and disagree. Would anyone else care to make a policy recommendation, or sha
ll we return to hunting?” The three seemed to shrink as the King-Emperor waited.
“N-n-n-no, Imperial Majesty, ah, perhaps we should return to the hunt now that we are all rested,” Tarkeela ventured to suggest. His tail flicked nervously, and he sank a little lower as Shi-dan looked at him directly.
“Very well. We will continue, assuming that the game has not been scared away,” the King-Emperor announced, turning to go. As he began picking up his weapons, Tarkeela snatched up the hunting spear he had laid aside and drew back to cast at Shi-dan. Before his foreleg could swing back fully, he grunted then howled as a black quarrel sliced into his neck. Shi-dan spun, advancing on the noble as Tarkeela clawed at his neck, frantically trying to remove the steel-tipped bolt. The King-Emperor snarled and leapt onto Tarkeela, digging his talons into the noble’s flanks and ripping upwards as Tarkeela screamed. Then Shi-dan’s jaws closed on the other reptile’s windpipe, muting the sound. Tarkeela thrashed briefly, blood foaming from his throat, before his executioner released him and he collapsed into the dirt and leaves.
Shi-dan glared at the remaining noble and his heir. “Anyone else care to challenge Us and feed the scavengers today?” They laid down and rolled onto their backs, exposing their throats and bellies in utter submission, something Rada had never seen before. Shi-dan, blood still dripping from his talons and muzzle, nodded. “Good.” Once again he returned to his gear, loaded up, and the hunt resumed.
* * *
Shi-dan stood, forelimbs on the battlements of the manor keep, as Rada knelt. “You have won no friends from Our Court, Commander Ni Drako,” he observed, studying the scenery. She remained silent. “Why did you not shoot Tarkeela in the heart, as you did the other?”
“Your body language, Imperial Majesty, and the angle. If I went for the heart, I risked injuring the Prince Imperial if he kept moving backwards, as he had started to. The throat would break the throw, and allow time for a second shot, or for you to render justice.” Rada was not completely honest, but she was never going to admit that she’d been “reading” Shi-dan and had felt his desire to kill surging as he heard Tarkeela starting to move.
“Hmm,” Shi-dan grunted. He dropped down from the wall and stalked over to where she knelt. “We wish a few more days hunting, Lord-Defender. You will return to the Palace on the morrow. After Our hunting ends, you should come back and inspect Burnt Mountain and Singing Pines again, then report to Us the conditions of Our estates.” He started brushing past her, and she eased out of his way, still on her knees. Shi-dan paused and rested his forefoot on her back and shoulders. “You have done well, Lord Ni Drako. Continue as you have begun, and We will be well pleased.”
“Thank you, Imperial Majesty,” she murmured, relieved almost beyond words. Then his tail swung out and knocked her lightly into the wall. “And I will not hunt again after dark without telling you,” she added.
“Good,” and he continued on his way.
Turning of the Year
Zabet’s first view of Singing Pines manor failed to impress the True-dragon. «This is it? This is where you want to spend the next month or so? You’re nuts.»
Zabet’s mammalian business partner shrugged. “It is where I am spending the next month or so, per his Imperial Majesty’s orders. Do you want to argue with him?”
«No.» Both foreigners had a healthy respect bordering on fear of King-Emperor Shi-dan. Unlike Rada, Zabet hadn’t been millimeters away from dying under the King-Emperor’s talons, but she still had no desire to attract his displeasure.
“Besides, there’s nothing that says you have to stay here with me. I thought it would be a good idea to introduce you to the staff so they can get over their shock. Apparently they see a few True-dragons from time-to-time, but have never had one in residence,” the Wanderer said.
«Mrmf,» came the reply. At that point, further discussion became moot as the half-hover landed on the cleared pad at Singing Pines estate. Lord Ni Drako, her “concubine,” and three of the Palace Guards on field rotation disembarked from the aircraft and Rada took a deep breath of the cold, dry air. She caught pine scent and wood smoke, a little of the vehicle’s exhaust, but nothing else. Two heavily bundled servants waded through the snow, collected most of the luggage, and hurried back into the comparative warmth of Singing Pines manor house. Zabet looked around at the scene and gave a loud and theatrical sigh, then followed her “lord,” mincing as she picked her way along the path.
By now, the servants had become a bit more accustomed to their mammalian lord, but her concubine sent their tongues flicking before Zabet even finished making her way across the courtyard. Steward Lokat blinked several times before convincing himself that, yes, Lady Zabet was really a True-dragon, if a small one. A few of the Azdhagi just stared. Zabet in turn studied the provincials and the manor house as she followed her lord to their quarters. She slowed down and gave one of the larger male servants an especially interested look, until Rada snapped something in Trader and the reptile hurriedly returned to Ni Drako’s side. Between her very presence and the thick, blue-green textile draped in elaborate folds around her, Lady Zabet provided the main topic of conversation among the manor residents for the rest of the week.
Steward Lokat soon had other matters to distract him. “Lokat, if there is a spare chamber near mine, I’d like it aired and arranged to suit Lady Zabet’s tastes,” Lord Ni Drako informed him the next morning. The reptile in question lounged with her head and neck draped over her lord’s shoulder as Rada idly scratched around Zabet’s ears.
“Ah, yes my lord. What does your female have in mind?” Lokat inquired.
«Nothing fancy, Steward. Cushions, benches and a writing table suitable for an Azdhag will be fine. Perhaps a chest for my textiles? And a good stove, please.» Her words came directly into his mind and Lokat’s muzzle gaped open a little with surprise. He stared at the odd pair.
“Is there a problem?” Rada asked.
Lokat shook himself. “No, my lord. I believe we can accommodate her requests without difficulty.”
Rada smiled. “Excellent! Thank you, Lokat. I apologize for any extra work we cause you. Oh, and fair warning. His Imperial Majesty might be coming here in a week, er that is,” she caught herself and wracked her memory for the Azdhag word, “in a sixt or two, according to Court rumor.”
Steward Lokat pretended not to be at all worried about this bit of news. “You are quite welcome, Lord Mammal,” and he bowed himself out. Then he went to his office and found the package of calming herbs he’d tucked away in a drawer. He chewed the stems and leaves and wondered how he could have offended the gods so much as to deserve a second visit from the King-Emperor in one year! Well, at least Lord Mammal had seen fit to warn him.
Zabet found the manor primitive, the servants untrained, and the food plain. However, she approved of the scenery and made several trips each day up to the battlements, looking at the mountains. Rada resumed her usual routine of waking up very early, going through solo weapons work before training with her men, then exploring the estate on foot. Her soldiers grumbled at being forced to trudge through the cold and snow but the Lord Defender would hear none of it. “Why not attack in winter? You are correct, Corporal, you are at a disadvantage in the low temperatures and snow. All the more reason to invade now, while the ground is frozen, the rivers are low, and harvest is in storage. Late fall would be better, but winter works just as well.”
The servants worried more about Shi-dan’s pending arrival and for the most part had no difficulties with Lord Ni Drako’s presence or occasional requests. “Lord Mammal seems to eat a lot,” a kitchen helper ventured one afternoon as he looked at the large portions of tree-fuzzy stew and flat bread the cook had just finished serving.
In reply the chief cook thumped the junior’s head with a large spoon. “Shush. Everyone eats more in the cold, you yap-trap. Besides, Lord Mammal is providing the meat, so be grateful. We’d be having jerky stew or mushrooms almost every night otherwise.” That the odd nobl
e cleaned her catch before bringing it in also drew favorable comments from the kitchen staff.
A sixt after their arrival, Rada looked up from her computer and stretched a stiff neck. “When do you want to go back to the Capitol? Shi-dan will be here in four days and you can take a ride back with the Palace Guard when they return.”
Zabet shook her head. «I’ll stick around. Apparently some of the True-dragons come by at Breakdark and I want to meet them. You should too, to establish your credentials,» the silvery reptile advised from under a mound of feather- and treefluff-filled quilts.
“Why? My being Head of a House is just a formality, part of my title as Lord Defender,” the Wanderer pointed out reasonably.
«No, it’s not,» Zabet waved a talon in admonition. «The draconic Houses recognize Azdhagi families as Houses, co-equal with others. You have certain responsibilities and one of them is making yourself known to the other Houses on Drakon IV. Meet with the locals and they will spread the word, but you need to be known, Pet. Otherwise it’s very rude and if you ever need their help or information, you will be royally screwed.»
The woman groaned at the idea of more duties and responsibilities. “Being royally screwed is the only thing that hasn’t happened to me yet,” she muttered very, very quietly, “despite insinuations to the contrary.” A little louder she added, “And don’t start down that vector, boss. There are some things I really don’t need to know.”
Blue eyes filled with righteous indignation, Zabet protested, «When have I ever gossiped, passed along rumors, made insinuations, or hinted at having information about the personal foibles and recreational activities of members of the Court?» She did her best to look offended, but the rapid twitching of her whiskers and tail gave her joking away.
