Princess of Zenina

by Giselle Marks

  I’ve seen my daughter’s death as I’ve seen my wife’s. I know with absolute certainty, Kerina’s destiny cannot be cheated. But I hope the disaster that will befall my wife will not take Marina as well. I’ve seen Marina die with Kerina, yet be present at Plavina’s coronation. I’ve seen Plavina die, but the pictures changed; sometimes she dies fighting Zadina, sometimes Dalzina, sometimes even Kapalina. Yet each time she dies, I see Marina’s coronation as Zenina enters an epoch of gold.”

  Unlike many with the gift of precognition, Kabaneev could decipher his visions.

  “Kerina will die; the risk is Marina might die with her. If Plavina is crowned, she’ll die when challenged for the crown. Marina will not act as Champion. Why? I don’t know? If Marina were crowned, everything in the Empire would be well, if she dies or turns her back on Zenina there will be catastrophe.”

  That afternoon he had tried to persuade Marina she must accept the crown on Kerina’s death or ask her to abdicate in her favour now. She accepted the truth of his predictions, even though she shut out her own. Yet she would not bend.

  “If it is my fate to rule, it’ll happen whatever I do. I’ll do my best to avoid dying but for the rest I’ll wait and see,” she told him.

  Vlama, who knew Kabaneev’s mind as her own, worried for him and his children, unblessed or cursed with second sight, she did not deny the truth of his visions. It was so, it would be so. Her fortunes would rise or fall with those of Marina. She would be loyal to Marina and Kabaneev, if need be unto death.

  Marina’s dance was coming to its end. The emotions of all present were stirred, for some of the players’ roles in this tragic comedy were allotted there. Some had picked their roles before, others had been type-cast since birth and at least one was trying to read off the autocue as fickle fate wrote his lines. He was lost but he would do his best, whatever destiny threw his way. He stood bravely in the breach.

  In Hemithea town, Etapa was content as she had consumed a little too much drink and was enjoying Charles’s attentions. It was a good thing that Etapa was intoxicated, for it would have spoilt the memory for her, if she had realised how little Charles was thinking of her. His body pleased her and she was more than satisfied with his performance. His mind was in the Banqueting Hall with Marina, glorying in the perfection of her dance, feeling the thoughts and emotions of her audience. The atmosphere was heavy and Charles thought it portended great happenings. His time with Marina would come to an end too soon. It was too soon for Marina to be queen; too soon for her to take up the duties and cares of rule.

  Chapter Forty - Change of Hearts

  Divak lay back on his couch, not listening to the noise of the applause echoing through the Hall. His thoughts were not on his sister, but on an almond-eyed beauty he had seen that morning leaving the Resettlement office, she had pushed a small baby, a pretty little thing, part Kurgian by looks. She looked the picture of contented motherhood. He thought her a gentle soft creature, not the domineering strong type like his female relations. He had been fascinated by her, could think about nothing but her ever since. He would have to say his farewells to Klobas, but he had served his purpose. No self-respecting woman sought to enslave a man who preferred men’s bodies to their own. A few had tried to convince him of the error of his ways, but none very seriously.

  “If I father a child on any woman my family will welcome her with open arms as the saviour of their disgrace. That pretty young mother excites my interest. She has proven child-bearing ability and is beautiful enough to never bore me. She looks mouldable to my design so I’ll discover her name tomorrow. There can’t be many girls of her description. Kapalina will find out for me if I ask her nicely. She owes me a few favours after all, doesn’t she?”

  Kapalina was feeling bad. Princess Marina’s offer to heal her had astounded her, but she had been in such pain she had accepted gratefully. Her own sister Dalzina had made no offer, leaving her to heal as best she could; complaining she was not there to wait on her every whim. Dalzina always said Marina was weak, yet it did not seem weakness to help someone who was in pain. Only a really great athlete could rehearse all afternoon, rush to fight Zadina, beat her and then perform so beautifully here tonight.

  “The man who came with Marina, he admired me at the pelozia match. I caught his thoughts and looked up at him whilst thinking how good it would be when Dalzina was queen and Marina was dead. He shuddered when I looked up at him, I read his revulsion as he looked into my eyes. He is not a telepath but he looked at me as if he could see my soul, finding it loathsome.”

  Kapalina had tried to blot out the feeling but she could no longer see things the same way. When Dalzina had come to her earlier that day to glory in the induction of her new pawn, some woman Marina had helped and was generously supporting, she had found it hard to hide her thoughts from her sister. She felt disgusted at her exultant glee, for both Dalzina and the woman who would bite the hand that fed her. It seemed so petty and stupid - most of the things they had done seemed petty. All Dalzina’s attempts to destroy Marina had failed.

  Kapalina’s servants had carried her couch to her apartment window so she could watch the fight that afternoon. Marina’s performance had impressed her, not least because she walked away without complaint when unfairly deprived of her victory. Dalzina would have stormed and sulked, she would not have accepted the loss of her trophy so easily.

  But Dalzina would not have aimed the knife to cut her hair. No she would’ve taken Zadina’s life without a qualm of conscience. Kapalina doubted Dalzina could beat Zadina, she thought Zadina was the stronger fighter. She now suspected it would not be a pleasant thing to have Dalzina as queen at all.

  “Then tonight Marina made it clear she had been ordered to dance, she had agreed because of her oath of allegiance to Kerina, but she danced so beautifully, so poetically. Marina had danced heart and soul for the pleasure of her mother. Marina and Kerina disagree, yet she did not stint, giving of herself graciously, even when she did not wish to obey, she will only give her best. Marina would never temporize or compromise. What was right to Marina is always right and what was wrong is wrong.”

  Dalzina always twisted things to what she wanted, Kapalina realised she was a coward. She would not challenge Marina openly, fearing she would lose. Dalzina fought only if she knew she would win. Kapalina finally reached a conclusion, she should tell Marina everything.

  “Apologize, beg forgiveness and pledge allegiance to her, but if Dalzina were to find out? I’m not strong enough to beat my sister in battle - I have never really trained to fight. Yet one day it might come to that. I’ll seek out Vlama tomorrow and beg her help to improve my fighting techniques. No, I won’t ask Vlama, although she is the best. I’ll ask Stenlina, because Dalzina wouldn’t know my loyalty had changed. Vlama will only help those she knew were not enemies of Marina. Marina might have need of me, and Zenina has need of Marina.”

  The Herald’s next pronouncement put an end to this reverie. Kapalina heard the announcement that Dalzina and herself had been chosen to head an urgent mission to Ziga and would set off the next day. Dalzina stood, thanking her majesty for the honour, they were duly gratified. Kapalina sought Marina’s mind, “Is this your doing?” she asked.

  “Yes,” Marina replied.

  “I need to see you,” Kapalina said.

  “You know where I live, you’re always welcome,” Marina answered.

  “I’ll be with you, two hours before dawn,” Kapalina declared breaking contact.

  No one overheard their exchange and few would have attached any significance to it. Marina was curious at Kapalina’s request; she went to her apartment, where she showered, throwing on a wrap-around skirt in cream cotton and a loose shirt in yellow.

  Chapter Forty-One - The Palace Gardens

  Marina rejoined the banquet incongruous in her casual dress. She grabbed a few mouthfuls of food and drank two glasses of strong spirit straight down. Colonel Bromarsh had returned to his couch and was entertaini
ng several ladies, Vlama, Lahoda and Klivina amongst them. He seemed to be safe and enjoying himself. Marina felt tired and tense, she wondered what Kapalina wanted. Marina wandered to the terrace, slipping through the gauze curtains into the gardens, allowing her mind to relax.

  Her exit did not go unmarked, Prince Ga’ Mikkal excused himself and hurried after her. He spotted her standing on a wooden bridge in the middle of the water gardens. A few dim underwater lights were eerily illuminating ripples on the water as fish rose to gobble the tiny pieces of bread that Marina was feeding them. Marina heard the Kurgian search for her in her mind. She recognised the thoughts as of the man who had watched her rehearse. Her concentration whilst dancing that evening had been so intense she had noticed no thoughts around her. It had seemed to her she was dancing to an empty hall.

  She was tired, more tired than she wanted to show. The fight with Zadina had drained her emotionally, she felt washed out.

  “Clearly the Kurgian is still interested. How does he look?” Marina wondered. “The way my luck is going today, it will be the fat balding one whose clothes stunk of garlic. When I rehearsed, he understood that I was laughing at him. It struck me as odd at the time, but I didn’t realise why. I had to dash off to protect Bromarsh so I didn’t notice the Kurgian was a natural telepath.”

  Marina let him advance right up behind her. He put his arms around her waist, she turned to look at him by the light of two of Zenina’s moons. They stared balefully down like a wall-eyed, cross-eyed crone. Prince Ga’Mikkal expertly kissed her, holding her very close to him. She felt the strength of his arms around her as she naturally responded to his kisses. She was tempted to let him seduce her, but she forced herself to pull away and lowered his arms as he reached for her again.

  “I apologize for laughing at you this afternoon, Prince Ga’Mikkal. I didn’t know who you were. It was rude of me to be amused by your desire.”

  “Are you still amused, Marina?” he said as he reached for her again, pulling her into his arms once more.

  She could not reply out loud, for he was bruising her mouth with his kisses, his hands slipping under her loose shirt and kneading her back. He let go of her only to sweep her into his arms to carry her to a secluded plot where he laid her on a patch of finely mown lawn. All the time she had been protesting in his mind, not of what he was doing to her, but that his duty was to return to the Banquet where Plavina expected him,

  “Let her wait,” he growled.

  His kisses and hands explored her body. She did not push him off, but her mind still told him “No”. As her body was obviously responding even though her mind declined his desires, he ignored the thoughts and continued with his actions. His cruel caresses suited Marina’s mood. He was indeed skilful knowing precisely how to excite her.

  Her body wanted to say “Yes”.

  Her head still said “No.”

  Her refusal was now less jocular and more determined. Even if Plavina had not been expecting him, she would have declined.

  “He would see my submission as a victory; Marina is not a trophy to be collected. I want this man but on my terms. I will not connive with his raping me.”

  “I said No,” she said aloud. A man as experienced as Prince Ga’Mikkal should be capable of holding back and he would not suffer for long. His bed would be adequately filled tonight.

  “I was not really teasing him, leading him on. I wanted to respond to his kisses, I don’t want to lie to him, but I want to wait.” She told herself, self-justifying her behaviour.

  Marina always enjoyed the anticipation before seduction. She was too tired to really bother. If once she agreed, he wished to play act rape she would willingly participate, even gently struggle, but only with prior agreement.

  Ga’Mikkal did not want to wait; he adjusted his clothing and attempted to mount her. She lay still, neither fighting nor submitting.

  The voice in his mind, said curtly. “I find you attractive, but I do not wish to be raped. I am exhausted and would prefer to receive you when I’m fully rested. I will look forward to furthering our acquaintance at some future date.”

  His driving body did not enter hers. Her muscular control prevented it. She sat up, pulling down her clothes, tipping Ga’Mikkal to one side as she moved. She leaned over him and kissed him, reaching down to his still engorged member with one swift movement of her wrist, released his fountain.

  “I couldn’t leave you like that, could I?” she asked in his mind. “I hope you won’t be angry with me, but I do not like being pushed about, unless I agree to it first. I’m returning to the banquet now. Tidy yourself up,” she said as she headed back to the Palace.

  Marina kept her thoughts closely blocked, she allowed herself a small daydream. She knew Ga’ Mikkal very much better now, his telepathy was very rudimentary. He could not even use another’s mind to translate their thoughts into his own language as most Zeninans did. He had not even noticed her examination of his thoughts. He was a right proper bastard, that one. She must check on his parentage.

  A small sample of his semen under one finger nail would be enough to confirm her suspicions. A telepathic Kurgian was very rare indeed. Yet in the space of a few days she had come across what appeared to be two - the Kurgian, who had raped Ondiella and the Prince, who had tried to rape her. Marina thought that a large coincidence and she did not believe in coincidences.

  Chapter Forty-Two - Zeninan Law

  Zenina had no specific crime of rape; more men were raped than women, accepting the assault, submitting to it. Zeninan women were expected to be strong enough to resist, if not, then they should be, was the reasoning of their sisters. If drunk or drugged they should have known better. No legal penalty was available. A charge of assault could be brought, if proof of force could be produced. Bruises, broken bones or rope marks. Simple bruises heal on a Zeninan within hours, if not minutes which made proof difficult. If force could be proved, a flogging was administered.

  A group of men banding together to force a woman was a criminal offence, ‘obtaining sex with menaces.’ The woman had legal redress, if the men were free; their freedom was forfeit, they became her slave. If the man was a slave, his owner was fined and the slave was flogged. If it happened again the slave would be confiscated and sold with his record read aloud.

  Rape was not a serious problem in Zenina. Men with powerful sexual urges headed for Zenina like it was paradise. The misfit would-be rapist on another planet often made a good slave on Zenina, after his beer belly had been starved off him and he had been whipped for taking his own pleasure too quickly. High sexual urges were desirable in slaves; violent tendencies were not a problem when the women were physically stronger and could repair the results of a fight swiftly. Many could dominate the male mentally if necessary.

  Marina thought Ga’Mikkal would be an excellent slave. He would strip well, she would enjoy training him. Much though she disapproved of slavery, it was made for Ga’Mikkal. Like fire he would make a fine slave, but a very dangerous master. He was too used to getting what he wanted and totally unprincipled in how he got it. Ga’Mikkal was up to no good, his mind so full of plots it was hard to unravel them and she had not had enough time to figure out everything he was up to.

  It was as well for Marina’s principles that enslaving him was politically impossible. Slinging the ‘Special Emissary’ over her shoulder, then enslaving him might seem poetic justice, but it might start an Inter-Empire war. He had diplomatic immunity; many would die because she had wanted to wipe the smirk off his face. King Ga’Mishrin would not have scrupled to start a war he could win to enslave her, but she hoped she was less vile than him. Still she enjoyed the fantasy, switching it off as she returned to the terrace.

  Zadina observed her return, the flush of arousal still on her. Yet she observed no signs of consummation. “So, she refused him,” she said to herself. “So much the better.”

  Zadina slipped out to intercept Ga’Mikkal’s return. An hour later they returned separately.
Few made the connection between them, because much wine had flowed. Two pairs of twins of different sexes were performing elaborate sexual gymnastics together on a specially laid out mat.

  Some of the audience were so intoxicated that they were not observing this piece of physical art in the correct frame of mind. Some wags were mentally making suggestions to the participants - most of which were quite impossible. At least one couple offered to demonstrate how it should be done. Another couple were quietly doing that in a corner of the room, but even they received unsolicited advice.

  Marina sought out Bromarsh who had found safety in numbers. Lahoda was still with him as was the girl Nerova asleep at the bottom of his couch. She did not snore but was plainly drunk. Marina lifted her dumping her unceremoniously on her own couch before seating herself in the vacated place. She sat talking with them all for a while; then she said to the Colonel.

  “Are you ready to go home now, Colonel?”

  Bromarsh hesitated. He was not sure he was doing the right thing or how to tell her.

  “You go on, Princess,” he said “I’ll stay the night here...”

  “Who’s the lucky lady...?” Lahoda asked, but thought better of it and trailed off into silence.

  “That’s fine, Colonel, I understand. Tell my mother you’re on loan only. I want you back in good working order.”

  There was silence all around at Marina’s insult, but nothing happened. No bolt of lightning fell on her. She turned on her heels and stalked away.