by Joseph Pryce
Amina had almost worked her hands out of the bindings. “So what is this message that you want me to deliver to my superiors in the capital?” She asked again balking for time to get herself free.
“When I send you back to the capital. Your masters will know that the six tribes of the Coldlands are sick of the Three Kingdoms and we intend to fight you all to the bloody end”, Fokat replied. She stood up and drew a blood stained cutlass from behind her back just as Amina was able to get her hands free from the rope.
THE EMPIRE OF OCEAN IMPERIAL
QUEEN SERENAH BLAKSTORME
The domain of Ocean Imperial was the smallest of the Three Kingdoms and completely different from the other two. Whereas Sandstorme was one large hot desert covering almost one-third of the planet, filled with rolling sand dunes, sand seas and rock-strewn plains, and Summerhill had its spectacular tropical jungles and sprawling lush green lands, Ocean Imperial existed almost entirely on water. The entire continent sited a group of ten thousand small and medium sized islands separated by canals and linked by transparent plasti-steel sky- bridges. The capital city known as Blakfalls, was located in the marshy Blakfalls Lagoon which stretched along the shoreline, between the mouths of the large Ladine and Kile Rivers, which were known as the only waterways on the planet that flowed north instead of south. Blakfalls and the entire realm of Ocean Imperial was world renowned for the beauty of its setting and architecture and known as “Lile Yo Marijo” in the First World tongue which meant “The Floating Kingdom”.
THE SOVEREIGN CASTLE OF OCEAN IMPERIAL
In the times before the arrival of the Three Kingdoms, Ocean Imperial sat an expansive land of ice and snow not unlike the Coldlands. During the Age of Terra-Forming, when the ancestors of The Three Kingdoms used their sophisticated technology to reshape the planet’s terrain and climate, the machines caused sea levels to rise and the entire coastal landscape was changed resulting in thousands of outcroppings of granite to emerge, which later became the Ten Thousand Islands. The magnificent castle was a dynamic glass strutter built in the shape of two oval domes that sat side by side. City inhabitants for decades joked that they resembled a pair of voluptuous female breasts. The castle was a fortified structure permanently surrounded by a force-field that happened to be strong enough enough to withstand a direct hit from a full-sized electro-magnetic pulse missile. The capital city of Blakfalls was situated on the biggest of the Ten Thousand Islands. The island city was six hundred square kilometres and housed three hundred inhabitants.
Although the city had been breached several times, The Sovereign Castle itself had been ransacked only once in its three thousand year old existence. This happened when the armies of Summerhill and Sandstorme enjoyed an extremely brief alliance and had managed to cross the main bridge that lead to the castle gates. The winding transparent causeway that led to the castle gates had always made Djimon Leone Blackwood feel very uneasy. He could feel the indestructible bridge under his feet but when he looked down all he saw was the choppy Ladine River below.
You would think after all of these bloody years. I would be used to it by now. He chided himself.
Since no mechanized vehicle were permitted on the causeway since the law was passed over two centuries ago , after Pharaoh Alooma the Second had stormed the gates with his army. Anybody leaving or approaching the castle gates were forced to walk.
Even the husband of the queen. Blackwood mused with amusement.
There were several members of the royal family members out for an early morning stroll just as Djimon was. He stopped to greet The Duchess of Darkwater Bay a very attractive young woman who happened to be his wife’s second cousin. She and her equally handsome husband were enjoying the overcast but pleasant morning too.
Djimon continued on his way until he reached the castle’s stone Gatehouse which stood a few feet from the actual gates. Four heavily armed Castle Guardians manned the Gatehouse who kept watch over the causeway in addition to the dozens of hidden surveillance probes that were strategically placed in the immediate area.
“Good morrow to you, your nobleness”, greeted Dawit, the captain of the Guardians, a strapping man with a thick neck and wrists who filled out his uniform quite well. The Guardian uniform bore the proud green, yellow and red coloured star of Ocean Imperial. The official banner of the empire.
“Good morrow to you as well, Captain Dawit”, Djimon smiled back. He always liked the captain, an ever so jolly fellow whom the royal consort had shared a drink with on more than one occasion.
The two men greeted one another in typical Ocean Imperial fashion with a clenched fist over their heart and mind.
“How goes the watch?”
Dawit exchanged a curious glance with his fellow guards. “We are hearing strange tales coming across the water, your nobleness”, Dawit responded.
This peaked Djimon’s interest, as he knew that Dawit was not a man to indulge in idle gossip and would not be mentioning this to him if it were not of importance.
“What sort of tales?” He asked.
“There is an unconfirmed report out to the Her Majesty’s Dispatch Office, that Pharaoh Kane was assassinated yesterday by a suicide bomber from the Hannix tribe or Chrine tribe”, Dawit reported.
Djimon’s eyebrows shot upwards in surprise. “Really? Do we know for certain that the pharaoh is dead or is he just “rumoured” to be dead?” He asked without remorse, as the ruler of Sandstorme had been an avid enemy of Ocean Imperial his entire life just as his father had been before him.
“I am uncertain, your nobleness but I can find out for you”, the captain responded easily. He did not mind garnering a favour or two from the queen’s husband.
“No worries, captain. I am sure by now that the Diplomat Office has already advised the rana of this news. Where is my lovely wife at this present time?” Djimon questioned knowing that it was part of the Guardians captain’s duties to be aware of the queen’s whereabouts in the castle at all times.
Dawit quickly poked his head into the Gatehouse and glanced at the two eight dozen floating holo-screens that hung suspended in the air like colourful beads. They prominently featured the location of every single member of the royal family and tracked the trails of castle staff and servants. The captain spotted the queen on one of holo-screen number twenty-three.
“Her Majesty is in the athletic hall, sire. Did you need me to escort you through the castle?” Dawit asked. He was bored being on guard duty and would not have minded going for a long walk to stretch his legs.
“That is quite alright, Dawit”, Djimon responded much to the captain’s dismay. “Please advise her Majesty that I am coming down to see her”. He nodded at Dawit who in turn waved his hand to open the massive castle gates. The bio-metric sensors in the giant stone gates instantly recognized Dawit’s bio-readings and slowly rumbled silently open to allow Djimon to enter.
My wife works hard at keeping that luscious body of hers in shape. Djimon ran his hands across his stomach which had gone pudgy over the last couple of years. He could recall a time not too long ago that it had been as hard as a rock. Perhaps I should be doing the same.
Once past the gate and inside the inner sanctum of the castle grounds, Djimon was totally secluded from the outside world. The original architects of the Sovereign Castle designed it this way for both security reasons and to protect the beautiful aesthetic of the castle surroundings. The pathway leading from the front gates to the castle entrance was a winding and lined with glades of exotic and mature trees and shrubs. The pathway was by its own water system that fed the Ladine River into a moat that was stocked with hundreds of colourful fish.
The pathway led to the main façade of the Palace that consisted of a seven-story monumental sculpture of Raja Ramesis Blakstorme and Queen Vasilya Blakstorme, Queen Serenah’s deceased parents and former rulers of the empire, standing abreast with a fearsome monolith of a bearded man’s face atop the body of a black shark shaped from rainbow river rocks. The black shar
k was the symbol for Ocean Imperial and the man was King Rammah the Imperial Father of the Empire and The First King.
Djimon glanced upwards at the dozens of smaller sculptures of other members of the royal bloodline that encircled the black stone balconies and mused inwardly if his own visage would join them after he died.
The Blue Gardens featured a large circular pond filled with bright blue water and surrounded by eight glass and stone intricately designed fountains. Djimon enjoyed walking through the garden even more now that he was older than when he was a younger man. Several minor lords and ladies smiled at Djimon as they passed by him on their stroll through the gardens. The official name for garden was The Vasilya Blakstorme Rana Gardens but it was most commonly known as the Blue Gardens to castle residents and staff. All of the foliage, including the grass and trees in the garden were a starling shade of blue as if it all had been dipped into a bucket of blue paint. The Rana Vasilya’s favourite colour when she was alive was blue and it was under her royal command that the gardens were dyed blue by the castle’s horticulturists. He stopped inside of the castle foyer to admire the magnificent hand painted portrait that spanned the length of the ceiling.
Such a beauty. He remarked inwardly.
The image was of a beautiful angel with ebony wings laying in a bed of fluffy white clouds giving birth to a seraphic baby boy. The angel was known throughout Ocean Imperial as Odohaa, “the mother of the Creator”. The painting has been rendered one thousand years ago by the empire’s most famous artist. A polymath named Roog Orisha, whose number of works in painting, sculpture, science and architecture ranked among the most famous in the world.
Djimon loved admiring the painting every morning, the angel reminded him of his wife whom he loved more than life itself. Despite their significant age difference, he loved her more than all the world and was quite certain that she loved him the same.
Two identical Humoids, a male and a female, approached Djimon in the foyer and bowed respectfully, “Pardon us, your nobleness”, the female artificial being said to the royal consort. Unlike the cyborgs of Summerhill and Sandstorme, the Humoids of Ocean Imperial looked and sounded flawlessly human.
“Yes Edit?” Djimon drew his eyes away from the revered portrait and glanced at the female humoid. The only visible difference between the artificial beings and regular humans were their blue tipped fingernails, otherwise Djimon could never tell the difference.
“His splendour, Rajah Khon commanded Eamon and I to personally escort your nobleness to his solar”, Edit explained. All five hundred existing humoids in Blakfalls had been created in pairs. This was purposely done by their makers, The Zimbabwe Corporation, that way if the memory core of one of the elaborately designed machines became corrupt. Causing it take behave irregular or malfunction against its original programming, it’s counterpart would be able to override it’s fellow humoid and decommission it to prevent it from harming any humans. Two centuries ago when the humoids were created, the first artificial being from the assembly line was named Brudolf and he over exceeded the expectations of his makers. He was handsome, intelligent, charming and far more fetching than any human male in the capital city. Brudolf had dozens of ladies from minor houses lusting for his company despite the fact he was not even a true human. In the end due to a programming anomaly that the Zimbabwe Corporation overlooked, Brudolf was made completely amoral. He led his fellow homoids into a dangerous rebellion that had almost destroyed the fabric of the empire before it ended, with Brudolf being decommissioned and subsequently destroyed.
Djimon rolled his eyes at Edit and Edic. “And did my brother-in-law tell you why he is summoning me?” He sighed. He did not much care nor trust for Khon Blakstorme but did his best to keep the peace with him for his wife’s sake.
“We apologize, your nobleness but the rajah did not share that information with us”, Edic replied obediently.
“Of course he did not”, Djimon replied sardonically. “Lead the way, Edic. I will follow”.
Khon’s personal quarters were located in Dome One where all members of the royal family resided. Edic and Edit escorted Djimon into a glass enclosed paradise of luxury and decadence. The solar had a massive well-lit skylight that seemed to stretch upward to the very sky itself. At the other end from where Djimon was standing was a man-made waterfall with indigo coloured waters that flowed down from the glass ceiling and disappeared into a diamond encrusted opening built in the floor. There were half a dozen full-sized holo-graphic portraits of Kohn’s smug image that decorated the solar that Djimon did his best to ignore. His first observation whenever he did allow himself to take in the portraits was how the artist that captured the image must have been forced by his brother-in-law to cover up his large pot belly.
Edit returned from the inner suites and bowed her head at Djimon, “His splendour is ready to receive you now, sire”, she said to Djimon. He followed her down the long corridor that lead to Kohn’s private quarters.
The humoid stopped at the entranceway leading to the rajah’s study and allowed the royal consort to enter first.
Djimon stopped short as there in the middle of the office were three naked female purple-haired members of the Roxside tribe, the Volgags who lived closest to the empire’s border. The young women were pretty and full-figured but like all Roxside neither of them were taller than five feet.
“Greetings to you, brother-in-law. What say you on this fine morning?” Kohn said with a sly grin. He was leaned back in his plush blue leather chair, drinking champagne from a crystal flute.
“Greeting to you as well, Rajah”, Djimon replied cordially doing his best to ignore the naked Roxide. “Edit, mentioned that you needed to see me?”
But Kohn was ignoring Djimon and his brother-in-law did not realize why until he noticed the bobbing purple-haired head between Khon’s legs partially hidden by the massive desk. That is when he became aware that there was a fourth Volgag woman present and she was servicing the rajah with her mouth.
Djimon cleared his throat. “Perhaps I should come back later when you are less occupied?”
Khon climaxed with a rumbling grunt and it was only after that he opened his eyes to fix Djimon with a sly satisfied grin. “Now that is the way every man should start his day!”
Kohn patted the young Roxide woman condescendingly on her head. “Go clean yourself up and take the others with you. I need to speak with my wife’s brother”, he told her.
The pretty Roxide with sad purple eyes rose from her knees and simply replied, “Yes, milord”. She left the office with the other three young women in tow.
Djimon watched them leave and a concerted effort to hide his disgust as he turned meet Kohn’s gaze. “What did you need to see more about?”
The chubby man pulled up his pants and lazily waved at the empty plush seat in front of his desk. “Have a seat, Djimon”, he ordered.
Despite only being half of my age. He treats me if I am one of his serfs instead of the rana’s husband. Djimon huffed to himself as he sat down in the chair.
Kohn poured some more champagne for himself and attempted to fill the empty glass sitting on the desk in front of Djimon but the older man waved him off. “It is a bit too early for me to partake of the spirits”, he advised Kohn lightly.
The young man downed his flute of champagne and immediately refilled it. “But we have much means to celebrate, Djimon!” He happily exclaimed. “The hated Pharaoh Alooma Kane the third is dead! Dead! Dead! Dead!”
Djimon raised his eyebrows in mock surprise and pretended that he was not already aware of the news. “Really? What happened to him?”
Kohn smiled triumphantly as if he had slain the pharaoh personally. “There are all sorts of rumours flying out of Sandstorme. Even the spies that we have stationed in that desert wasteland have been unable to ascertain exactly what happened. But who cares how he died? The bottom line is that the old fart is gone!”
Kohn guzzled down more champagne. “If we could figure out t
o get rid of King Shaka too. Then Oceanstorme would roll into Summerhill and conquer it, the way we will conquer Sandstorme”, he continued.
He speaks of conquering? Djimon snorted inwardly. This comes from an irresponsible whelp that has never even held a blaster in his whole damn life.
“Has my wife already decided to invade Sandstorme then?” Djimon asked already knowing the answer.
Kohn’s face grew tense and storm as it always did when it came to the subject of his sister. It forever burned the rajah white hot at that his young sister was voted Ocean Imperial’s ruler over him.
“My sister is not a militaristic minded ruler, Djimon”, Kohn grumbled as he rose drunkenly from his chair and hastily pulled up his pants. “You must help convince her that with Sandstorme now in disarray. This is the most opportune time to strike”, he continued.
