The Exxar Chronicles: Book 03 - Acts of Peace and War

by Neal Jones

  "What does this mean?" Kiran asked. "They're just going to wait for everyone in Kirndun to die?"

  "I don't know," Keltor sighed. "There was nothing more to the message."

  "Well," Kiran said bitterly, turning to Kravis, "it looks as if Dakr'o Thrale is responding to this crisis after all."

  Epilogue

  ____________________

  ( 1 )

  "It's beautiful!" Lady Persys Kepthah gushed, running her fingers along the smooth, shimmering fabric. "Oh lords, Lare, this is amazing work!" She glanced over her shoulder at the lady empress who was stretched out on the thick, padded cushions of a sofa. "K'Sana made this??"

  Larewyn nodded, munching a cookie from a nearby silver tray. "It's extraordinary, isn't it? Look at the stitching. It's done by hand."

  "It's incredible!" Persys exclaimed as she flopped onto the sofa next to Larewyn's. "You're going to look stunning! I love the color of the beadwork on the neckline and the waist." She sipped her tea and then teased, "You'd better be careful, Lare. I just might steal her from you."

  "I've already asked her to create something for you."

  "Really??"

  Larewyn nodded, grinning. "That's why I invited you today. Mother will be here shortly with fabric samples and beads."

  Persys squealed with delight, and Larewyn laughed. Persys set aside her tea and leaped up to examine the lady empress' gown once more. After a few moments, she said, with a serious tone, "You seem much better these past few days than you did awhile ago. Are you sleeping well?"

  Larewyn nodded, reaching for her teacup. "That, too, is because of K'Sana. Whatever herb she used to make my night tea has done wonders. I have never slept that well in my life."

  Persys frowned as she returned to her sofa, resting on the cushioned arm and curling her feet under her. "And Doctor Grund has found nothing unusual with it?"

  "Nope. He's insisted on scanning me every morning and taking a blood sample. He spouted some medical terminology at me the other day, said the herb helped with my hekk levels, or something like that. Other than that, it seems to have no adverse effect on me or the baby."

  "Wow," Persys replied, shaking her head. "Where did you say she's from again?"

  "The Rosst colonies. Yeah, I know, who would have expected such talent as this" – she flung a hand at the gown hanging on the other side of the closet – "from a girl of the 'dirty mystics'?"

  "Now, now," Persys chided her, "they're not all that bad. I've was there once during my tour. It is a wretched place, but some of the people are quite amazing in their beliefs and practices."

  "Oh, yes," the lady empress snorted. "I keep forgetting about your indulgence of the Daughters of Jha'Dar. You're not planning on another tour anytime soon, are you?"

  "Oh, lords, no!" Persys laughed. "Once was enough for me." She nibbled a cookie and then swallowed. "But, seriously, this new tea you're drinking at night with that special herb, it doesn't surprise me at all. Some of their folk medicine is simply amazing. You wouldn't believe what I witnessed during a healing ritual with one of their...priests, or whatever they're called."

  Larewyn gave another dismissive snort as she reached for a cookie. "Herbs and tea are one thing, but you can't believe everything you see while you're high on moern grass."

  "Oh shut up!" Persys chortled as she tossed the remains of her cookie at the lady empress.

  Lady Marija entered the closet just in time to hear Persys' comment. "What are we laughing about now, girls?"

  "Nothing," Larewyn said, swinging her feet over the edge of the sofa so she could sit up. She brushed the cookie pieces off her skirt. "Where's the fabric samples?"

  "Patience, darling," her mother replied. "There were two trunks. Lady Katriel has insisted on guiding the servants up the stairs, as if they're incapable of navigating simple steps on their own."

  "I heard that, Marija." Persys' mother swept into the room with a grand flair, the quartet of manservants close behind her. "Set them over, please, and do be careful." She motioned for her daughter to move her feet and then plopped onto cushions next to her. "You shouldn't be sitting like that. It's bad posture."

  "Yes, mother," Persys sighed, rolling her eyes and turning to K'Sana. The handmaid had been the last to enter the large and opulently decked wardrobe closet. "Come closer, child. Show me your samples."

  For the next two hours, the woman chattered and gossiped as they looked over the expensive fabrics and the even more expensive jeweled beads. Larewyn's other handmaids came and went with more cookies and tea, until finally the lady empress leaned forward, motioning to her mother for assistance.

  "I need to lie down for awhile," she said, rising. She turned to Persys and Katriel. "You're staying for dinner, right?"

  "Of course," Persys replied. "What are you serving?"

  Larewyn shrugged. "I dunno. You three decide what you want and then tell the cooks."

  "I'll walk you to your chamber," Marija said, linking her arm with her daughter's.

  For once, Larewyn didn't protest. In fact, for the last few days, she had found her mother's constant doting to be more welcome than annoying. And, truth be told, she needed Marija's assistance more and more lately. Doctor Grund had informed her that morning that the baby's growth was slightly ahead of schedule, and that she was now in the final phase of her pregnancy. Her daughter would be born in the next two to three weeks, and, as she waddled alongside the Lady Marija, Larewyn glanced down at her swollen belly, rubbing it absently and smiling wistfully.

  "Have you decided on a name yet?" her mother asked.

  "No," Larewyn sighed. "There's too many good ones to choose from, and every time I ask Eren's opinion, he never responds, or he says whatever I want is fine."

  The walked for a little while in silence, and then Marija asked, "Have you talked to him lately?"

  "Not since last week. He's somewhere in the Xiin sector, I think. He said his tour was going well, and that he wants to have a celebration feast when he comes home. I really don't feel like planning one right now."

  "Of course not, darling. We still have to finish our plans for the naming ceremony. I'll look over your list while you have your nap." She helped the lady empress onto the bed and then pulled back the covers.

  "Wake me in a couple hours," Larewyn said, yawning.

  "Of course."

  Larewyn stared sleepily at the holo-screen on the other side of the room as she allowed her thoughts to drift. The scene was a pleasant one, a beach at sunset. She couldn't recall what planet of the empire it had been taken from, but the calming landscape accurately reflected the lady empress' mood. Ever since she'd been able to sleep at nights without the restless dreams, she'd felt reborn. It was more than just feeling like her old self again. She felt utterly new, wholly regenerated, as if she had shed her old self completely. She no longer felt restless and worried about her future. There was much to look forward to, and Larewyn once again rubbed her belly, sighing to herself as she closed her eyes and drifted away.

  She dreamed of being reunited with her husband, embracing him as their newborn daughter, still unnamed, slept close by.

  ( 2 )

  "All right, enough!" Erengaar barked irritably, waving a hand dismissively at Ephelia and Praevo. The two of them had been chattering non-stop since the lord emperor's return to the ship from Navakone where he'd just delivered a rousing speech to an audience of nearly a million citizens. Both of them had been gushing like school children about Erengaar's rise in the polls, and other statistics, and the next stop of the tour, and his schedule of upcoming meetings with various special interest groups, and on and on and on.

  "We'll continue this in the morning," the lord emperor said, leaning back and massaging his temples. He closed his eyes, waiting for the sound of the door hissing shut behind his staff members. After several moments, he leaned forward, looking around the large room to make sure he was truly alone. He swiveled his chair to gaze out the viewport behind his desk. His stomach growled, but h
e ignored it. He tried to remember what day it was, and how long he'd been on this godforsaken tour, and his head began to ache with the effort.

  He wasn't just tired, he was utterly exhausted.

  The door hissed again, and the shadow of First Lovar Ryomekk's reflection appeared in the glass of the viewport.

  "I think I'll dine alone tonight," Erengaar said without turning around. "Whatever reports you have for me can wait until morning."

  "Very well," N'Ro agreed, inclining his head in a slight nod before turning on his heel.

  "Send in L'Damia on your way out," the lord emperor instructed.

  The servant girl appeared moments later, dressed only in a simple gown of gray and cream. Her dark hair was loose, tumbling about her bare shoulders in a pleasantly appealing manner. The sight of her full, supple lips excited Erengaar as he walked around his desk to meet her.

  "Will it be the usual tonight, m'lord?" she asked in a sultry tone.

  Erengaar tilted his head, smiling, as he appraised her. "No. We're going to start with dinner. Have you eaten yet?"

  "No, m'lord."

  "Good." He turned to his desk and pressed the comm panel.

  Later, after the servants finished laying out the table, Erengaar dismissed them and poured the wine himself.

  "You don't have to wait for me," he encouraged her as he sat. "Go ahead. Serve yourself." He forked two slices of the oldok and then scooped up a spoonful of mashed vynt. He watched, bemused, as she filled her plate. "You don't seem like the other girls," he observed.

  "How do you mean, m'lord?"

  "You aren't afraid or intimidated by me."

  "Is that a bad thing?"

  "Not necessarily. It's just…unusual."

  "Are we equals tonight, m'lord? Am I free to speak as I want?" She smiled at him coyly.

  The lord emperor returned her smile, finding himself pleasantly intrigued, in spite of his foul mood. "All right then. Yes, we're equals. Say what's on your mind."

  "You're a powerful man, m'lord. Most are afraid of it because they don't understand it. They fear you because they don't know you."

  "And you know me? You understand me?"

  "I know how hard it is for you to run an empire. I feel your exhaustion when I come to you every night."

  "Really?" Erengaar smirked. "How old are you again?"

  "Seventeen, m'lord."

  "We're equals tonight. You may address me as Eren."

  Her eyes widened a bit, but she quickly composed herself, blushing just a little. "Very well. Eren."

  "I finally caught you off guard," he observed, smiling at her over the rim of his wineglass.

  "Yes, you did." She daintily chewed her piece of meat and swallowed. "It's rare that I'm caught off guard."

  "So you know the future then? You always know what to expect?"

  L'Damia gave a mild shrug. "I find most people are predictable. It's easy to know them and predict their behavior. Thus, I am rarely surprised."

  Erengaar sat back, one finger idly stroking the stem of his glass. He watched pour gravy on her vynt, and she didn't seem bothered by his scrutiny. "Where are you from?"

  "I was born on homeworld, in the town of Clema'Tor."

  "In Hesabrin province."

  "Yes. Have you visited there?"

  "No. I am only aware of the name because it's within a Resaki district."

  "That's right."

  They ate for awhile in silence, occasionally glancing at one another, and Erengaar found himself more and more aroused as the evening wore on. It wasn't simply her appearance that excited him, but her whole demeanor. She seemed utterly nonplussed to be playing the part of his equal, and she played the role well. He couldn't help slipping a hand beneath the table to rub himself.

  "Did you watch my speech tonight?"

  "Yes."

  "Well? What did you think?"

  She paused, wiping her mouth and then folding the napkin neatly beside her plate. "I think that you put on a good performance. You are playing your role as well as I'm playing mine."

  Erengaar chuckled humorlessly as he refilled his wineglass. "Yes, that's a very good assessment. And since we're being honest, I can tell you that I'm exhausted with playing my part."

  "Then let me play mine." She rose and walked around the table to where he sat. He pushed back his chair, and she straddled his lap, her long, slender fingers gently stroking his hardness through the fabric of his pants.

  He lifted her gown, delighted to see that she was naked beneath it. He slipped his fingers into her wetness, and she moaned softly, throwing back her head. He leaned forward to kiss and nibble her pale neck, occasionally nipping the soft, supple skin. After a minute or two, he stood up, lifted her in both arms, and carried her into the bedroom.

  He laid her on the bed and then removed her gown, tossing it behind him. He stood back, admiring her nakedness, and she arranged herself against the pillows, arms behind her head, waiting for him to make the next move.

  "Undress me," he commanded, sitting in the nearby chair.

  She obeyed, removing his boots and socks first. She rubbed his hardness again, teasing it through the fabric with her teeth, until he groaned. L'Damia lifted his shirt over his head, and then kissed and nibbled his chest as he had done to her at the table. When she finally pulled off his trousers, he couldn't restrain himself any longer, and he pulled her up so she was straddling his lap once more. He thrust himself into her with such force that she gasped, her nails digging into his bare shoulders. He fucked her violently, nipping her breasts, relishing her soft squeals of pain and pleasure.

  After he came inside her, he stood up and she wrapped her legs around him as they moved to the bed. He laid her on her back, still inside her, and gently kissed her earlobes and her neck as he waited to become hard again. She giggled softly, caressing his back, and then he was fucking her once more. This time was slower and gentler, and he rubbed her sweet, full lips with his finger, occasionally letting her suck it.

  After he climaxed, he collapsed beside her, and she wrapped a leg around his waist, snuggling closer to him. All the other times he had rebuffed her efforts to lay with him after they were finished, but this time he didn't mind her company. She lazily caressed his bare skin with one hand while he stared at the ceiling, lost in the afterglow of sex.

  "Eren?" she said after awhile, lifting her head to see if he was still awake.

  "Hhmmm?"

  "Do you want me to spend the night?"

  He stirred, pulling his arm from beneath her. "No. You may leave."

  She lifted herself on one elbow and leaned over to kiss him. She expected him to turn away, but he surprised her by lifting his head and bringing his lips to hers. She was further surprised by the tenderness of the act, as if they were old lovers who had known each other for many years. He wasn't rough or hurried, and he gently cupped the back of her head, tilting it just a bit as he sealed his mouth to hers.

  When he finally released her, he inhaled sharply, as if that simple act of passion had sapped the last of his strength. He sighed as he laid back, and L'Damia sat up, watching him intently. He opened his eyes, looking up at her.

  "What?"

  "Nothing, m'lord. I'm just waiting."

  He frowned. "Waiting? I said you could go."

  She smiled, but this time there was a sharpness in her dark eyes, a subtle shift in her expression that Erengaar couldn't quite understand.

  "Go," he commanded, pointing to the door. He started to sit up, but a sudden, lancing pain tore through his chest, and he gasped, falling back against the thick pillows. He stared at L'Damia, his eyes wide, struggling to speak. He reached for her, but she backed away, rising.

  She stood, naked, beside the bed, studying the lord emperor with mild curiosity as his entire body stiffened and then jerked. After a minute or two, she leaned down, bringing her face close to his.

  "Sshhhhh, m'lord. It'll be much less painful if you don't fight it. Just relax, and it will all be over ve
ry soon."

  He glared at her, silent fury pouring from his eyes as his jaw clenched, and his hands scrabbled for her, clawing at her, but she quickly stepped back. She turned, searching for her gown, and, by the time she had it on, Erengaar's body had gone limp at last. His eyes were still open, but now they gazed at nothing. He lay sprawled on the bed, naked, arms out as if he were being crucified. L'Damia crept closer, leaning down and turning her head. She felt no breath on her skin, nor did her fingers find a pulse when she pressed them at the base of his neck.

  "And now we sit in the light of the poisoned sun," she quoted softly. "Let us talk of battles lost and won. Fear not, thy soul is soon at rest. Thy sleep is that of noble death." She arranged his arms in a proper manner over his chest and then pulled up the sheets. She looked around the room, making sure there were no other signs of struggle. Everything appeared as it did on the other nights when Erengaar had brought her to his chamber. By the time his body would be discovered in the morning, the poison would be completely dissolved in his system and undetectable. Whatever minute traces of it were left would soon be shat upon the silk sheets when his bowels finally released before rigor mortis set in.

  L'Damia slipped from the room, padding barefoot across Erengaar's quarters to the side door that the servants used. She told the cook that he could clear the table when he was ready, that the lord emperor had gone to bed for the night. She then continued through the kitchen and out another side door. Her quarters were just across the hall, and she glanced both ways to ensure the corridor was clear. Once inside, she activated the privacy lock and then opened the narrow locker next to her bed. The gown fell into a puddle around her feet.

  She stared at the small, slender cylinder in her palm. A simple injection, and yet the pain would be greater than what Lord Emperor Erengaar had just experienced. L'Damia closed her eyes and pressed the hypo-needle to her arm. She sat on the edge of the narrow bed, her arms wrapped around her chest, waiting for the change to begin.