Behind the Throne

by K. B. Wagers

  If. Fires of Naraka, I was still so fucked.

  “Go on, Alba, I’ll see you after the meeting.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  I glanced quickly around the table so my smati could log the faces as people took their seats. The admirals in charge of 2nd and 3rd Fleets were only faces on holo-screens, their presence at the meeting beamed in from thousands of light-years away.

  The other men and women around the table were dressed either in the black-on-black of the Imperial Guard or the dark blue of the Imperial Navy. Dressed in white, I blazed like a star amid the unrelenting backdrop of space.

  “I have been informed that Her Majesty is indisposed and she asked if the heir would sit in on this meeting. Caspel, if you’ll start off the introductions?”

  The hawk-faced man in civilian dress to Hassan’s right nodded sharply. “Director Caspel Ganej, Highness. Head of Galactic Imperial Security.”

  I nodded in reply and the introductions continued around the table.

  “The Saxon Alliance has been pushing at the borders. Nothing overt enough to break truce, so long as their government keeps their peaceful-coexistence rhetoric pumping on the media lines,” Hassan continued after the introductions were concluded. There was bitter laughter around the table. “They’ve ‘convinced’”—there was no mistaking the sarcasm in the word—“three border worlds in the last two months to join the alliance.”

  “Why haven’t we taken them back?” I could have bitten off my damn tongue when the question slid out.

  Every single pair of eyes flipped in my direction—some filled with poorly concealed contempt, others with sympathetic agreement.

  “Because, Your Highness,” Admiral Shul, head of the 2nd Fleet, said slowly, speaking as if I were a child, “as long as the Sax claim to be sticking to the treaty, so must we. There’s no obvious military involvement. The planets voted. At least according to the Saxons.”

  “Surely there are ways to get those planets back without overt military involvement on our part then?” I was already hip deep in it, so I figured I should just keep going.

  “Don’t you think we’ve discussed that already?” Shul replied, and the sharp bite of his voice over the speaker had several people at the table sucking in surprised breaths.

  “Admiral Shul, you will modify your tone when speaking to the Crown Princess,” Hassan snapped. “Highness, I realize you’ve…”

  “Been out of the loop?” I supplied when she fumbled, and was relieved by the flash of humor in the admiral’s brown eyes.

  “If you wish, ma’am. I don’t know if you’ve seen it yet, but the media lines have not been kind to us lately. With the economic problems in some of our outlying planets and the troubles here at home, one could make a case we’ve gotten a little too big for our own good. The whole galaxy pushed for the peace treaty with the Saxon Alliance, and it has held for longer than we could have hoped.”

  I remembered hearing the news of the peace treaty. Even as I’d tried to avoid information from the empire, the end to the seventeen-year war was enough to make the headlines across the stars. We’d been in a little bar on some backwater planet, working hard at getting drunk.

  “There’s a sight I never thought I’d see,” Portis said.

  I turned my head toward the screen by the bar, blinking several times until the words shaped themselves into some semblance of order. “Peace treaty?”

  “Yup, looks like those Earthies finally got their way. The Saxes and the Indys have signed a treaty.” He grinned at me and lifted his drink in a salute. “Maybe we should expand our territory.”

  “No!” It came out sharp, but I was too drunk to care much about the look flashing over my Portis’s face. “Those Saxon Alliance types get worked up about gunrunners. Besides, dumbass, they just signed a peace treaty. Not our market.” I waved at the bartender for another shot and turned away from the screen before I could get a good look at the image of my sisters.

  “Highness?”

  “Sorry.” I forced a smile out. “Please continue, Admiral.”

  “Caspel can probably tell us more,” the admiral replied, looking at the hawk-faced man on my left. “What’s the word on the ground?”

  “Not good,” he replied, rubbing a lean hand over the stubble of gray hair on his head. “We’ve lost contact with our assets on Primatoria IV. Could be dead, could be captured, could just not be able to answer their smati.” There was a chuckle around the table at the dry humor.

  “Reports from the Shiva System are unpleasant. It looks like the SA incited riots on the twin planets. It proved to be enough of a distraction for them to move troops in.

  “What this means for us, Highness, is that as far as public opinion goes—those planets chose to leave the empire.” He kept his brown eyes locked on me as he shrugged. “We could take them back by force, but—”

  “There’s no way for us to prove those planets didn’t change allegiance willingly,” I finished.

  Caspel nodded. “Until we can, we are honor-bound to hold to the treaty or look the villain to the rest of the galaxy.”

  I nodded back, swallowing down the suggestion that we send in stealth teams of our own. A roomful of military minds probably wasn’t the best place to suggest gunrunner tactics. I made a note in my smati to speak with the GIS officer later. Out of all the people present, he could be most receptive to my suggestions.

  That is, if he wasn’t part of the plot to kill me.

  The conversation resumed around me, and I struggled to keep up with the myriad of names, dates, and systems flying through the air. By the time the meeting had ended, I had a file filled with information tucked away in my smati and a pounding headache.

  16

  Caspel, will you hold back a moment?”

  If he was startled, he hid it well. Caspel nodded and remained in his seat. No one else said a word to me as they filed from the room, though Admiral Hassan gave me a sharp nod and the briefest of smiles before she turned on her heel and headed for the door.

  “What can I do for you, Highness?” The head of the GIS was the epitome of politeness and had a poker face that would be envied in most illegal gambling establishments on Resita Semora.

  “What’s the possibility of sending our own stealth teams in?”

  “It’s something ITS head General Vandi and I have discussed, Highness,” Caspel replied. “I am trying to get a feel for the situation first.”

  “How many more planets do I lose before that happens?”

  Caspel tilted his head and studied me. “As many as need be to make certain your Highness doesn’t lose the empire entire.”

  “Fair enough.” I ran my tongue over my teeth and then smiled. “I’d like the names of the people responsible for the deaths of my sisters and my niece.”

  “I would give them to you, Highness, if I had them.” His non-answer told me more than any names could have. “Your empress-mother had five men arrested for the transportation and sale of the ebolenza virus but we were never able to figure out how it made its way into the palace. Two of the men killed themselves in their cells, and the other three were executed before my people could finish questioning them.

  “When Princess Cire and her daughter were killed, we were able to trace the explosives back to some of the more radical members of the Upjas. However, the two men and one woman whose names we obtained were killed in a shootout with royal BodyGuards the day you returned home. My contact with the Upjas was understandably edgy about the way things went down and hasn’t been in touch since.”

  “A shootout? I heard they were executed.”

  “I suppose it depends on who you ask.”

  “Do you think it was the Upjas?” I didn’t mention I had contacts of my own; it was just a matter of trying to get them to see me.

  Caspel studied me for a silent moment before answering. “No, Highness. Not the main group anyway. Abraham Suda wants change, not bloodshed. But he doesn’t have as tight a grip on the group as he o
nce did, and there are factions who are a little more willing to see blood spilled to achieve their aims.”

  “Which are what?”

  “The end of the matriarchy,” Caspel said, flicking a glance at Emmory over my shoulder as he spoke. “I don’t know if they’re looking to put a man on the throne or dismantle the empire entirely, Highness.”

  “Do you think we’d be better with a man on the throne?”

  “It will cause chaos we cannot afford. Whatever King Trace says in the public venue, his troops are moving. The Saxons have been preparing for this moment while we have been trapped by tradition and economic struggles. If Indrana goes down on a knee, Highness, we will lose the fight.”

  Besides Emmory, this was the bluntest response I’d gotten from someone since my return. Even Admiral Hassan had been vague in her replies.

  “It’s a risk to be so bold with me, Caspel.”

  He met my eyes unflinchingly. “I am the head of your intelligence service, ma’am. If I do not speak up, no one else will dare, and there is not much use for an intelligence service that does not share what it knows. Your sister appreciated the truth; I would hope you share that trait.”

  “A truthful spy. I confess that is a new one.”

  His grin was as quick and sharp as his bow. “Your spy, Highness. Indrana’s spy.”

  “If you would send what information you have to Emmory, he and I will go over it. Perhaps a pair of fresh eyes will give us somewhere new to go with it. Given the number of times someone has attempted to kill me, it would seem that the perpetrators are still on the loose.”

  “Of course.”

  “Thank you, Caspel.”

  “A pleasure, Highness. Please call on me if you have need of anything.” The smile transformed Caspel’s face into something less severe.

  I have stood up to murderers. Walked into Zheng-owned warehouses and back out again without even a scratch on me. I have fought my way through bars that even the law wouldn’t set foot in just to have a drink. I have been shot, stabbed, blown up (or nearly so), had guns jammed under my chin and shoved in my eye.

  None of that ever scared me as much as walking into those council chambers did.

  The two hours flew by, barely giving us enough time to lay out all the possible objections and come up with compelling arguments against them. Thankfully, there were few realistic ones that Alba and Tye felt like the council might lay on the table.

  I didn’t know what I would have done without the help of the chamberlains or Zin. Despite his seaside upbringing, my BodyGuard had an impressive grasp of imperial politics and he came up with several objections we never would have considered.

  It still took a hell of a pep talk to get myself through the door and an even sterner voice to keep me moving when I realized several of the matriarchs were already in the chambers.

  Don’t be a baby, Hail. You could take any one of them in a fight.

  I’d have laughed out loud at that, except my eyes landed on Ganda at that exact moment. She was sitting in Mother’s chair talking to Matriarch Saito. Her shocked face shook my mirth loose and I spied the quick narrowing of her eyes before she pasted a bright smile on her face.

  “Hail! I was hoping your mother would allow you to join us. It’s good to see you.” She jumped up and extended her hands toward me.

  Smiling back, I resisted the urge to break her fingers, instead squeezing her hands briefly and releasing her. “We have something important to discuss with the council today.”

  Fear flittered across Ganda’s face, but I wasn’t sure of the cause. It could have been my incredibly unsubtle use of the royal we or the fact that Tye was speaking quietly with Matriarch Desai.

  Clara raised one gray eyebrow my direction but otherwise didn’t react to the news Tye gave her.

  I dipped my head at her and neatly slid into Mother’s seat. I knew Ganda had been occupying it since Cire’s death, and the look on her face as I took it back was priceless. Zin fell into parade rest behind my chair and I spotted the wary glances several of the other matriarchs aimed his way.

  BodyGuards were not brought into the council chambers. While I was relatively confident about my ability to survive anything the women in the room threw at me, Emmory had insisted and I hadn’t felt the need to argue with him.

  Besides, I wanted Zin’s eyes on the women in the room. He could look objectively at the matriarchs I’d grown up with.

  “Ladies, take your seats,” Clara said. “I am afraid I’m going to have to table our normal agenda in favor of something more important.”

  I leaned back. “Zin, be a dear and grab a chair for Ganda, will you? She seems to have lost her seat.”

  There was a moment of shuffling while Zin found a chair and put it right next to me. Once Ganda was settled, Clara continued.

  “Her Imperial Majesty extends her apologies for her absence today and also for the imposition of allowing a BodyGuard into our session.” She scanned the room. “Normally I would protest, but the decision is backed not only by the princess’s Ekam, but the empress’s as well. Given the recent dangers and in light of today’s news, I have allowed it. Now would be the time to file a formal protest.”

  No one protested.

  “You know no one is going to protest, Clara. Get on with it. You can’t dangle a carrot like that and not expect us to start salivating.” The elderly Matriarch Tobin grinned at me and thumped the floor with her cane. “What’s the big news?”

  “The empress is not suffering from Shakti dementia. She was poisoned,” Clara replied.

  The inhale was collective, except for Ganda, who was a half second late with her surprise. If I hadn’t been listening for it, I would have missed it, and I couldn’t be entirely sure my hatred wasn’t making me hear things, which is the other reason I’d agreed to Zin’s presence in the meeting.

  “Chamberlain Tye has just passed Dr. Satir’s report on to me. I will make it available to anyone here, but news of this is not to leave this room. Am I understood?”

  There was a chorus of assent and I settled back in my chair, content to let Desai run the show for the moment even though several of the matriarchs shot looks my way that clearly expected an explanation from me.

  “Her Majesty has also informed her chamberlain of her intent to abdicate the throne to her only surviving daughter as soon as she is approved and the coronation is complete. In light of her recent return and the current situation, I am sure the princess will not take offense to any legal objections that are raised during this meeting.”

  Oh, nicely handled, Clara. I kept my poker face on and did a quick sweep of the room. Now I’d be able to see the more obvious of my detractors, and hopefully more than a handful of allies.

  “No objection.” Matriarch Maxwell had been old before I ran away. Now she seemed practically ancient, but her family had always been crown loyalists. “She was proven the empress’s blood at birth and proven the same when she returned.”

  It was a relief to have the eldest member of the council easily dismiss what could have been one of our biggest challenges—that I wasn’t who I claimed to be. It didn’t escape me that the one thing I’d been pissed at Emmory for in the beginning was now an important foundation for my rule.

  Several other matriarchs murmured their agreement with Maxwell.

  “Are you going to run again?”

  Matriarch Gohil had passed away last year. Between my whirlwind briefing and the help of my smati, I identified the questioner as her eldest daughter, Alice. There hadn’t been any malice in the question, but several women shifted uncomfortably as it danced along the edge of propriety. I met her cool, dark-eyed gaze. I liked the look of her.

  “My reasons for leaving the first time were my own. I don’t apologize for it. I’ve learned a lot in twenty years,” I said. “Since I left home, I haven’t run from anything—not a fight nor a duty. I’m here and here I’ll remain until the Dark Mother calls me to temple.” Every time I said the words, it felt mo
re right, more like the thing I was supposed to do.

  “No objection from the house of Gohil.” Alice dipped her head slightly.

  “Ganda has been running herself ragged for the sake of the empire since before the death of Princess Cire.” Matriarch Khatri tugged on an auburn curl as she spoke. “She has done a great service to the Crown and shown an aptitude for leadership. I am not sure I see the wisdom in throwing her aside to put a gunrunner on the throne.”

  “Elsa, watch your tongue!” Matriarch Saito snapped. “Objections can be made without insulting the heir.”

  “What? It’s not an insult if it’s the truth. You’ve read the stories same as I have! She was a damn criminal from the minute she ran from the palace. Gods only know how many laws she’s broken, how many people she’s murdered!”

  Things went predictably downhill after that.

  “Zin, you will not say a word. I don’t need you to defend my honor.” I didn’t have to look behind me to know my BodyGuard was watching the sniping in horror.

  “They cannot insult you like this, Highness.”

  “Khatri is technically right. I was a gunrunner. She’s deliberately insulting me to see what I’ll do.”

  “Why aren’t you telling them the truth of why you left?”

  “Because I’m all right with this version for the moment. The chambers are protected space, and unless Clara decides she’s out of line, we’re keeping our mouths shut, understood?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  I rested my elbows on the arms of my chair and steepled my fingers, trying not to smile as I watched the show. The older matriarchs were unwilling to engage in the behavior of the younger members, and I knew they were watching me even more than the women shouting at each other to see how I would react.

  I had several very obvious supporters who were either genuine in their opinions or very good actresses. Those who supported Ganda seemed to be older, the matriarchs in the middle age range. Interestingly enough, they all came from houses that would stand to profit should Indrana go back to war.