Behind the Throne

by K. B. Wagers

  “Matriarch Khatri met with your cousin Ganda, your nephew Laabh, and a man Zaran didn’t recognize. Her smati wouldn’t give her an identification either. All she could tell me was that he was about as tall as Laabh with broad shoulders. He wore a hooded jacket and his face was in shadow except for one brief moment in the light.”

  “We can see if we can pull a memory that’s good enough to get a facial recognition print going. What did they talk about, Alice?” Caspel prompted.

  “Ganda was upset with Laabh. Said he should have talked to her before they tried to poison you. She told him it was his fault for involving ‘those Upjas bastards.’ The hooded man interrupted their bickering with a reminder that his people had already set things in motion and time was running short. Ganda needed to move on to the next phase of her plans if this was going to work.”

  My muttered curse was echoed by several others, most notably Clara, and I grinned sharply in her direction. “I take it we have no clue what this next phase actually entails.”

  “Actually I have a suspicion, Highness,” Caspel said. “Several news stations received anonymous reports overnight accusing Princess Cire of being in a relationship with Upjas ringleader Abraham Suda before her death and insinuating that Atmikha was not Major Bristol’s daughter.”

  This time my swearing was more violent and I pushed to my feet, intent on pacing the length of the study before my body reminded me that it wasn’t going to cooperate. I fell back against the couch and snapped a hand up, stopping anyone from fussing over me. “I’m fine. What the fuck do they think smearing my sister’s memory is going to prove, Caspel?”

  “It’s not just your sister, Highness. There are also several news stories about your exploits.”

  “Those have been running since I put my feet back on the ground here.”

  The GIS officer’s smile was sympathetic. “Not like this. Are you familiar with the incident on Shotakan about five years ago?”

  I froze. Bugger me.

  “Caspel, I’d be very careful with the next words that come out of your mouth.” It was the only thing Emmory had said so far, but it dropped the temperature in the room down into the freezing range.

  “Easy,” I murmured. “I’m pretty sure that he’s not going to say I had anything to do with an explosion that resulted in the deaths of a hundred and fifty-three schoolchildren.”

  “Your employer did.”

  “Yeah, no.” I ran my tongue over my teeth as I calculated the best way to tell this story without adding one more name onto the list of people who wanted me dead. I could handle my prissy cousin, dissatisfied nephew, and any other Indranan noble without blinking. Pissing Po-Sin off, however, was not something I wanted to do. “Po-Sin was embroiled in a territory war with an Irani up-and-comer named Roshanak. She turned several of his lieutenants, including a man named Jin, against him.”

  I rubbed a hand over the back of my neck and sighed. It’d been an ugly business, six weeks of hell where I’d very nearly ended up as pieces of human sashimi.

  “Jin planted the bomb as an attempt to discredit Po-Sin. He implicated me in the bombing. Po-Sin pretended to believe him in order to draw Jin and any other conspirators into the light. I’ll spare you all the details of how he did that and just what happened after. Suffice to say it was taken care of.”

  I’d delivered the boxes filled with pieces of Jin and Roshanak to the Shotakan military along with an exquisitely worded note from Po-Sin and reparations for the families whose loved ones had been injured or died. Then I’d been escorted off-planet and told never to return.

  “I’ll get with my people and see what kind of spin we can put on this. The good news is the story from Director Britlen has been running constantly since it aired. The fact that people now know you left home to find your father’s killer works in our favor. You’re pretty popular anyway. The populace feels like you’re accessible, so keep that up.

  “There’s no possible way to do any kind of testing to prove the rumors about Atmikha, and I suspect we can quash them without too much trouble. She was too well loved by the people for this kind of smear campaign to do anything but anger the civilian population.”

  “I want Zaran in the palace within the hour. We’ll make up some kind of excuse for getting her out of her mother’s house,” Clara said. “I want testimony about what she saw recorded and her visual of the unknown man downloaded so we can start searching for him. General?”

  Saito nodded with a slight smile in Emmory’s direction. “My best team has been otherwise occupied, but I will find a team to put on this mysterious man as soon as you have a description for me, ma’am.”

  “Admiral.” Inana Hassan looked up at me expectantly when I called. “Do you think that Major Bristol’s decision to leave with Admiral Shul’s fleet has anything to do with our current situation?”

  Emmory and I had talked about this the night before. My sister’s husband was on the list, as was my dear cousin. The Saxons were always on the list and I didn’t think even a declaration from King Trace would convince me otherwise.

  My Ekam hadn’t seemed at all shocked when I suggested Prime Minister Phanin. His little shrug spoke volumes about his opinion of the man.

  The problem was that Phanin’s behavior was easily explained by Mother’s sickness and the trust my sister had put in him. Someone had to run the empire and the fact that the Matriarch Council hadn’t put the smackdown on him when he first stepped over the line said a lot. The man’s background was totally clean.

  “It’s possible, ma’am,” Hassan said carefully in answer to my question. “We don’t have any proof that he’s also involved.”

  “So who wants to talk about the elephant in the room? Why aren’t Generals Vandi and Prajapati here?”

  General Prajapati was head of the Army, while General Mila Vandi was head of ITS and an old friend of my father’s.

  “Someone authorized Phanin to use troops against the ambassador,” Caspel said after a moment of silence descended on the room. “Regular Army troops, not BodyGuards. I don’t have any hard evidence, Highness, but there have been rumors linking General Prajapati with Matriarch Khatri. And General Vandi’s aide was on the list of names Zaran provided to Alice.”

  “We still don’t know who’s responsible for the leak in your security. Only three people knew you were on that ship,” General Saito said. “As much as Emmory assures me his brother wouldn’t have—”

  “It wasn’t Portis who betrayed me,” I cut her off. “You have my assurance on that, too, General. Someone got to my navigator at Shanghai. Offer her enough money and Memz would have strung up her own grandmother.”

  Saito dipped her head in acknowledgment. “No one knows General Vandi’s position on the matter, so Caspel decided to be cautious.”

  “Someone probably should figure that out. If both the standing military branches are against us, we’re going to be in trouble. I can’t hold the palace with just my BodyGuards, General.”

  “I would hope it doesn’t come to the point where you have to hold the palace, Highness,” Clara said. “However, should it come to that, the matriarchs will provide the Throne with assistance.”

  “Assuming you won’t be in need of defending yourselves.” Saito’s comment wasn’t quite muttered and I bit my tongue.

  “I suppose we’ll deal with that as it comes, General.” Clara smiled and rubbed her hands together. “I think we have pushed our luck as far as we dare today and I’m sure the princess needs to get back to her rooms and rest. Highness, I will message you if anything further comes up?”

  “That would be fine.” I nodded at the others as they stood, and I carefully got to my own feet. “Admiral Hassan?”

  “Yes, Highness?”

  “If you have some time free before Pratimas, I’d appreciate a full briefing on the present situation with the Saxons and our border worlds.” I hid my smile at Hassan’s curious eyebrow. “I have the minutes from the meetings I’ve missed, but making sens
e of them without some background is going to prove a little challenging. I’d like to be caught up before the coronation.”

  Pratimas was in six days, and the coronation would likely be after. Until that happened, I was in the rather awkward position of still not being empress. Mother could still overrule me, especially on matters of state, and with her sanity in question, we were going to find ourselves in deep shit if the Saxons decided to move on us in the middle of all this.

  “Let me get with my aide, Highness? She can clear some time in my schedule.”

  “Send it to Alba. She’ll be able to squeeze you in,” I replied with a nod. “I’ve got a meeting with her later today anyway, and she knows my schedule better than I do.” I caught the flicker of humor on the admiral’s face before she controlled it.

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Thank you, Admiral.”

  Hassan nodded sharply and left the room. Caspel had hung back by the door and pulled it closed again, leaving the three of us alone.

  “Highness, I need to ask you something indelicate. Is there truth to the rumors about Princess Cire?”

  “I’m not sure how I could know that, given how long I’ve been away from home.”

  The look he gave me wasn’t a duplicate of Emmory’s but it was close. I met it calmly.

  “Tell you what, Director. I’ll tell you what I know if you tell me why you smiled when I mentioned Shanghai.”

  Caspel’s raised eyebrows spoke volumes, and I held in the smug smile at having been able to surprise the taciturn intelligence agent. “You’re good, Highness. I had an agent in port. They mentioned you.”

  “You do realize this puts you in rather the same predicament as General Vandi?” I replied.

  “I didn’t put it all together until you were already home, Highness. I could have killed you six times over since we met. Trust me, if I wanted you dead, it would have already happened.”

  “Not something you want to say in front of my Ekam, Caspel. And if you’ve bothered to read the extensive file you no doubt have on me, you know I’m a lot harder to kill than that.”

  “Fair enough. I have spilled my secret, Highness.”

  Hardly spilled, I thought with a mental snort. The man had barely acknowledged anything except what I’d already guessed for myself. Because of that I rolled my reply over in my head several times before I allowed the words to fly free.

  “Twenty years ago, Abraham Suda was in love with my sister. Since I cannot read minds, I don’t know if the affection was returned. And since I have been away, there is no possibility I can speak with any surety as to the rumors about Atmikha’s paternal heritage.”

  “Spoken like a consummate politician, Highness. One would think you’ve been doing this for years.”

  “I have, Caspel. It just involved more guns.”

  He inclined his head and reopened the door. I followed him from Clara’s house after a quick good-bye to my hostess and dozed in the aircar on the way back to the palace.

  Back in my rooms, my thoughts were spinning all over and I stayed silent as Stasia helped me out of my gown and into bed.

  Too many suspects. Several had been implicated today, but I still wondered about Bial and the Upjas.

  My mother’s Ekam was as difficult for me to read as Emmory, and I couldn’t be at all certain that my opinion of the man hadn’t been irreparably damaged by the fact that he’d let someone poison my mother and kill my sisters. I knew he didn’t like me, but what I couldn’t figure out was where the root of that hatred lay. It seemed excessive to be mad over the fact that I’d been a gunrunner.

  I queued up my smati and called Fenna. “Good morning.”

  “Good morning, Highness. What can I do for you?”

  “Is she there?”

  “She’s sleeping, Highness. Can I help you with something?”

  “Tell me what you know about Bial.”

  Fenna arched a red eyebrow at me. “Could you be more specific?”

  “I could if I knew what I was looking for.” I muttered a curse under my breath and looked away. “I’m sorry, Fenna. It’s been a long day already.”

  “You’ll want to be careful pushing yourself too hard.”

  “Emmory already mothers me. Bial hates me, Fenna. Obviously he’s not saying it out loud, but it’s clear enough to me. What I don’t know is why. He’s spent an awful lot of time with Ganda, all of it in the course of his duties, and given how much she’s been up Mother’s skirts, it’s understandable.”

  “And you need proof he’s involved?”

  “I need something.” I threw my hands up in the air wishing I could pace. Unfortunately I’d probably end up flat on my face if I tried. “I can’t bar the man from my mother without a good reason, and if he’s involved, I don’t want him near her, even if the damage is already done.”

  Fenna’s eyes widened and she nodded sharply. “I’ll send you what I have, Highness, later today. Don’t argue with me. You need your rest.”

  I glared at her, but knew that she’d likely just call Emmory if I protested too much. So instead I nodded and disconnected the call.

  Emmory shared my concern about Bial, and we’d all been proven right today about Ganda. I was having some trouble believing her capable of cooking up a scheme this complex, but I was also willing to admit my bias for her intelligence could be blinding my thinking.

  The only ones Emmory and I couldn’t agree on as suspects were the Upjas. He saw them as the enemy, but I couldn’t separate my memories of my old friend, Taz, from the idea that someone had tried to kill me.

  Not to mention Cire’s involvement with the man in charge of the Upjas. I wouldn’t admit it even to Caspel, but it wasn’t a far stretch to assume that Atmikha wasn’t Albin Bristol’s daughter.

  However, the very thought that Abraham Suda could have killed the woman he’d been so desperately in love with was anathema to me.

  But just because I couldn’t fathom him doing it didn’t mean much—if anything at all. I’d seen too many versions of the same ugly betrayal all over the universe to fool myself into believing that love conquered all.

  The only way to know for sure was to look Abraham in the eye and ask him. Of course, that meant I had to either convince Emmory to let me meet with traitors to the throne or dodge my BodyGuard.

  I didn’t like either option much, so I let the toxin-induced exhaustion drag me down into blackness.

  The interview with INN two days later was all about damage control. The rumors about Cire had died out as quickly as we’d suspected they would, and only some of the fringe stations were still harping on them. Assaulting her memory had resulted in a lot of commentary on how crass it was to indulge in rumors against a dead woman and child.

  The one about me was a little more exciting and one more brushstroke in this whole princess-gunrunner painting the press had been putting together since my arrival home.

  I survived the interview, barely, and even managed to clear up my part in the whole mess without actually saying anything that would have gotten Po-Sin or Hao pissed at me. The journalist from INN seemed sympathetic enough, but even if she wasn’t, Emmory and Alba had final say on the piece before it was released to the public, so I wasn’t too worried. I hadn’t watched the footage yet, but I trusted Alba and Emmory hadn’t let me make a total fool of myself on camera.

  I staggered away from Emmory’s punch, my head ringing and a stream of curses dropping from my mouth like B-5 cluster bombs.

  “You need to watch that opening, ma’am.”

  I shook the stars out of my eyes and shot Emmory a narrow-eyed glare. It was the fifth time he’d tapped me in the head since we’d started. Not hard enough to do actual damage, but enough to ring my bell.

  What had seemed like a good idea when he proposed it now looked like it was going to turn into a daily ass-kicking session. Normally, kicking ass wouldn’t bother me, but in this case I was the recipient and Emmory was good at his job. I was good, too, but I had to grudg
ingly admit he was better than me.

  “I am trying.”

  “Not hard enough,” he replied.

  The weakness of the toxins had worked itself out of my system after that first day. So yesterday, Emmory had brought me down into this small windowless room filled with workout equipment and weights just after dawn.

  We’d started my training with a general workout, but today we’d moved on to more serious business.

  Zin was perched on a stack of pads that stood against the far wall, coaching me and trading laughing insults with Emmory.

  Cas and Jet were at the door, completing Team One. The traditional three-man team plus my Ekam were a normal escort inside the palace. Team Three was outside. True to his word, Emmory had broken with tradition and now two teams plus either himself or Nal followed me on palace grounds. It was quite the production when I had to go anywhere.

  I didn’t know what he was worried about. The man could beat me down and go on to defeat whatever enemies wanted me dead without breaking a sweat.

  He wasn’t sweating even though we’d been sparring for an hour. I, however, was soaked through; my black choli clung to my skin and even my pants were sticking in spots. Now that I was looking for it, I could see the similarities between Portis’s and Emmory’s fighting styles.

  I shook out my arms and circled him. Before I could move, however, there was a commotion at the door. Mother and her cadre of Guards swept into the room, followed by Nal.

  “Hailimi!”

  “Oh, bugger me,” I muttered, swiping sweat from my face. Bial was right on Mother’s heels and his face was grim. She’d been bad the last few days, sliding into and out of lucidity with alarming unpredictability.

  “Haili, what is going on here?” Mother demanded. She approached, holding up the heavy skirts of her blue dress as she padded over the workout room floor. I couldn’t help but notice how pale the skin of her hands was against the dark fabric. I could see the veins beneath the paper-thin surface, a spiderweb of ice streaking down her fingers.

  “I’m working out.” My nerves seemed to have vanished entirely with the news of my ascension. Or maybe it was the attempted poisoning. I always had performed better when someone was trying to kill me.