by Philip Hamm
The party saved as much of the King’s body as they could and brought it back to the hunting lodge. Most of the torso was missing and would have to be replaced in effigy-form before he was ready to meet Pater Junopta and Mater Quill. They preserved the remains by freezing them and then a galleon took the former king to Nidus, where his ancestors were buried.
His tomb been started on the day of his coronation but it was still unfinished; though the sepulchre had been cut into the bedrock, the walls where the history of his reign would be painted were bare. His sarcophagus, cut from a single block of stone, still needed its final polish and all of the grave-goods that would travel with him were back in the Royal Platform on Rhizic.
As the youngest surviving brother, Rao Tragus took responsibility. While the others returned to Rhizic, he went to Nidus to gather craftsmen and artists to finish the tomb and create the effigy necessary for the King’s journey. The priests and priestesses from the monastery took care of the body, wrapping the remains in linen. Meanwhile, a scout was sent ahead to Rhizic to tell the rest of the family and soon after that, the sad news was broadcast to the people.
The shock to the Quill Empire was extreme. For a week, some believed it wasn’t true and attacked anyone who said the King was dead. But gradually the news spread and all the members of the Royal Household made personal appeals for calm and quiet reflection. There would be a grand funeral, they added, to make sure the King reached Pater Junopta and Mater Quill with the honours due to him. A year of mourning was declared.
Nacyon had just come back from his latest rendezvous with Zizania when he heard the news. He had gone to the Royal Platform, report in hand, expecting to find the King and was annoyed when he was told Tragacanth was hunting on Kvike. All he wanted was to deliver his lies and return to the Apus, to be with Tringa and his friends, his proper family, and be away from the pecking and pettiness of the Royal Household. Now he would have to wait at least a week until the King returned.
He had decided to speak to the Queen instead, hoping she would release him from his obligation to read his report to the King personally and was outside her chambers when the scout from Kvike arrived. He was doubly annoyed when the scout whispered to the chamberlain and was shown into the Queen’s presence ahead of him. He was about to complain when he had heard a scream a few minutes later. The chamberlain reappeared, looking pale and distracted, told him to go to the main hall and wait. He was also told not leave the Royal Platform but he refused to say why.
Nacyon had waited for over an hour with the other lesser members of the Household. There was a terrible sense of foreboding. The courtiers thought perhaps there had been an attack on the Empire or a dreadful natural disaster like a failed harvest or a flood. But he’d heard the Queen’s scream and knew it was more than that.
When Queen Zivola had appeared, her face was covered and her jewellery had been removed. She had needed to be supported by her daughters. It was Princess Quillaia who announced the King’s death.
Nacyon, as shocked to the core as the rest of the Household, had spent the rest of the day sitting with the family in silence. He hadn’t liked Tragacanth as a person but as a king he’d always admired him and he knew he would be sorely missed. He also knew Zizania was not ready to replace him.
A few days later, the hunting party returned from Kvike and Rao Quern stood on the Royal dais and told the story of the King’s death. In his version, Tragacanth had fought valiantly with the Poa-bird but Pater Junopta, desiring his company in the eyrie of the ancestors, had called him away. He said nothing about parts of the King’s body being missing. Prince Rhatany gave his account and added his blessings for his father’s journey. The other members of the party also told their stories but Prince Quirinal was inconsolable; his father had died under his care as a guest on his estate and he would never forgive himself, he said.
That same evening, there was a meal for the family and Nacyon was included. It was held in the main dining room, with windows down one side giving a view of the clouds above Rhizic, tinted red by the sunset. Falk’s star in the Saron Empire was low on the horizon. As the night drew in, the curtains were kept open and a minimum of lights were switched on. The mourners sat in the gloom, contemplating a darker future without their King.
By coincidence, the main dish was poached Poa-bird eggs but nobody commented. Most of the food went untouched. In the background, the Household musicians played the King’s favourite melodies, toned-down for the occasion, and Queen Zivola cried quietly as each one recalled a different memory.
Near the end, Prince Rhatany stood and gave a eulogy in praise of his father before saying, “May I remind everyone that we have a new Queen to be crowned. Zizania will need to be located and brought back to Quill.” He turned to Nacyon, “If I might ask our cousin, as liaison to the Cissoid Corindon, to find and return her to our family, I’m sure we would all be eternally grateful.”
Nacyon stood, bowed, and replied, “It would be my honour, my lord.”
Though they could have been forgiven for being overwhelmed by the sorrow of the moment to show any enthusiasm for a coronation, a deeper depression spread among the mourners. Nobody believed Zizania was ready, not just Nacyon; he had been careful to weave as positive an impression around her as he could but tales told by rejected suitors, scurrilous stories printed in foreign newspapers, and visits to Quill by outsiders who had met her, had all contributed to the unpleasant realisation among the members of the Royal Household that she was no better than a whore.
The fact she was an embarrassment to the family was endurable to a certain degree but she was now their Queen and the reputation of the whole of the Quill Empire was at stake. The common people might worship her as a goddess but how would the rest of the Third Sphere react? Would they simply laugh and make jokes at their expense? Would they say the Royal Platform was a brothel and its courtiers were nothing but her pimps? Or would they think Quill had become decadent and weak, an easy target for conquering?
At the end of the evening, Nacyon spoke to Rhatany privately, “It might take weeks to find our Queen – I have no idea where the Cissoid will be...”
“Go to their home port on Kajawah in the Xramarsis Empire,” the Prince replied. “We have heard from one of our spies that there is trouble in the Tun Empire and Kalmia has returned to the north until the issue is resolved.”
“What kind of trouble?”
“I assume it’s something to do with their civil war. But don’t let that concern you; your duty is to fetch my sister and bring her back safely.”
“I’ll be as quick as I can...”
Rhatany looked away, checked there was nobody listening and then whispered, “But not too quickly, eh?”
Nacyon knew what he meant but still said, “I don’t understand...?”
The prince shook his head and looked disappointed, “You really are a fool. All right; we have a funeral to arrange and a coronation – if you could delay getting back for as long as possible, it will give us extra time. Do you understand that?”
“Yes, my lord,” he replied and wondered what else Rhatany needed the time for.
*
The day Nacyon was due to leave, Rani Rhus, the one person who hated Zizania almost as much as he did, came to see him. They didn’t like each other much either; she thought he was an idiot and he thought she was a vicious old bird. But he always respected her judgement.
They met in a private room belonging to a tavern on the Merchants’ Platform. The Apus was still being loaded for the journey but would be ready in an hour. He had been surprised to receive the Rani’s message.
“What can I do for you?” he asked, expecting her to ask him to delay returning for as long as possible, just as Rhatany had.
“Don’t dawdle,” she said. “Fetch my niece and bring her back as soon as you can.”
“But Prince Rhatany said...”
“I wouldn’t trust the prince more than a Rickobite,” she snapped. “Just do as you’re tol
d.”
“I will, my lady, but may I ask why you think her return is so urgent? The coronation will require weeks of preparation...?”
“The coronation is just a formality. She was Queen the moment my brother died. But she needs to be here to stop others from taking advantage of the interregnum.”
He was going to pretend ignorance but thought better of it. He whispered, “Do you believe Rhatany might be planning to start a war?”
She looked surprised, “Why would you think that?”
“I know he’s ambitious and now our ships have new weapons, it’s possible he might want to use them.”
“Weapons you arranged to have delivered,” she added pointedly.
“I was just the messenger; the final decision was the King’s.”
“And now he’s dead and I’m beginning to wonder if it was an accident after all.”
“Do you believe Rhatany was responsible?”
“Him or my brother, Quern; both of them tried and failed to persuade Tragacanth to consider expanding the Empire again. Instead, he acknowledged the sovereignty of Zamut over Sapadilla and withdrew our claim to Falk in the Saron Empire. He made peace with all our enemies and that is why I believe they killed him.”
“Do you have any evidence?”
“No,” she admitted. “But I know Rhatany is telling people his father had been well-armed and alert and should never have been ambushed by a bird. He’s claiming the King must have been murdered and he believes Zamut sent an assassin.”
“Why would Zamut do that?”
“Is it so difficult to imagine that they might be fearful of our new military and might want to strike the first blow, hoping to cause chaos and confusion...?”
“No,” he agreed. “And the lack of evidence doesn’t mean it couldn’t be true because nobody can prove otherwise.”
“Quern has ordered the QRN to stand ready in case of attack but I suspect it will be our ships that strike first. That’s why you have to hurry. If Zizania can be persuaded to put a stop to their efforts, they will have to obey. But while she isn’t sitting on the throne, Rhatany and his supporters will make mischief. Though they have no authority to make war on our neighbours, there is no one to tell them not to until she gets back.”
“Are you so sure she can be persuaded?” He didn’t hide the truth from Rhus, “She’s caused chaos wherever she’s gone and a little more might be to her taste. She doesn’t care about our people; she shows no compassion and I doubt if she’ll give an egg for the deaths of thousands of sailors and conquistadors if we go to war with Zamut.”
“Unless you’re suggesting we murder her, there’s no alternative.”
“I’ve felt like it many times,” he admitted. “But I don’t believe it will solve our problem; Prince Rhizic is next in line and he’ll just agree with Rhatany. But maybe on the return journey, I can talk to Zizania and find out what she really wants. Then we might be able to bribe her into doing the right thing.”
Rani Rhus looked at him afresh, “Perhaps you’re not such an idiot after all.”
“I do try, my lady.”
“But what if she wants a string of young men and nothing but debauchery?”
“I’d say that was a small price to pay for stopping a war, don’t you?”
To his surprise, Rhus smiled at him, “I think I’ve misjudged you, Nacyon. See what you can do with her and let me know when you get back.”
*
Fratris asked, “Do you believe Rhatany had the king killed?”
“I’m not sure,” Faam admitted. “Even though he took advantage of the situation, it doesn’t prove he was responsible.”
“But it’s likely, isn’t it?” said Crotal. “The king opposed his plans and stood in the way of everything he wanted.”
“I know that happens in Saron but the Quill rarely murder each other for gain. I still think it was an accident.”
Fengtai asked, “What do other people believe?”
“The popular theory is poison; the king was drugged before he went hunting and that was why he was unable to defend himself.”
Fratris said, “Poisoned by Rhatany...?”
“Actually, people think Zizania is the most probable suspect (even though she was nowhere near when it happened); they say, because she was next in line, she was obviously impatient for power.”
“If that’s true,” said Crotal, “She could have paid somebody to do it.”
“I think it’s unlikely,” Faam said. “She was too busy sleeping with boys to think about anything else.”
Fengtai asked, “Was she on Kajawah, just as Rhatany said?”
“Yes – he was right about Tun’s civil war getting worse. And it wasn’t the only conflict happening in the Third Sphere at that time; your people were under attack too and there was fighting between the aquatic worlds of Xramaria. It had become obvious to Kalmia that the university couldn’t go on; the normal routes the ship took, especially through the Meros and the Diaglyph, were becoming too dangerous. We had already lost a number of students on our last voyage; their families had decided to keep them at home rather the risk them being caught in the fighting and it was clear the Cissoid wouldn’t be able to fund itself let alone travel along the roads without being molested. We returned to Kajawah and while the time was being used to re-paint and refresh the ship, the rest of us had to wait in the hubs above Xramarsis.”
“What were you waiting for?”
“Now, I don’t really know; the wars got worse rather than better and we were trapped there without a future. But at the time, we hoped they would end soon and we would be able to carry on or at least get the last of the southern students back to their home worlds.”
Fratris asked, “Did the Apus see any fighting?”
“No, they managed to arrive at the port in the city of Dulla without any trouble. It was then just a matter of going to the Sa’ic Company, who own the Cissoid, and asking them to send a message to Beryl Hub where we were staying. A day later, Zizania was brought down by shuttle to the port and Nacyon could take her back to Quill.”
Innocently, Fengtai asked, “Was she upset when she heard the sad news about her father?”
Faam grimaced, “Not exactly...”
13 - The return of the Queen
Zizania burst out laughing. “Good,” she said.
Nacyon couldn’t quite believe what he was hearing, “Your Highness...?”
“He was no father to me. I’m glad he’s dead.”
He didn’t how to reply so he kept quiet. He had always known she felt bitter about being sent away to the Cissoid but he hadn’t realised the depth of her hatred for the King. Part of him sympathised; by sending her to Kalmia to sort out rather than try to understand her himself, the rejection was clear and unequivocal and he understood her pain. But it was a terrible pity she had chosen to express her unhappiness in such an unfortunate way.
They were standing alone in Kalmia’s office inside the Sa’ic Company pyramid that stood on a ridge above Dulla, capital city of Kajawah, the capital world of the Xramarsis Empire. Kalmia and her deputy, Vade, had stepped into another office to give Nacyon and the new Queen privacy.
There was a view of the desert through the narrow windows, shimmering in the sun, but the room was cold. Zizania was shivering slightly. She was wearing a gauzy top and a long skirt with a slit up the side. When she walked, Nacyon kept seeing flashes of her shapely legs and when she stood by the window to look at the desert, the top was virtually invisible in the light. Everything about her screamed seduction.
But she wasn’t interested in a middle-aged bird like him (for which he thanked Mater Quill a thousand times). He was just another servant to her.
As she stared at the dunes, she said, “What happens now?”
“I’ve come to take you home. We’ll go to Rhizic first and then you’ll travel to Nidus and the Golden Eyrie for the coronation.”
“How dreary,” she said. “I suppose my mother is distraught...?�
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Nacyon hesitated to say yes in case she started laughing again. “She’s coping with the loss, Your Highness.”
“And my brothers and sisters...?”
“They’re busy preparing for your arrival.”
“Has he been buried yet?”
“I expect so, Your Majesty. The tomb was unfinished when I left but that was over a week ago.”
(There had been a heated discussion between the members of the Royal Household over whether they should wait for Zizania to return before they buried the King. There was no precedent; she was the first to be away from Quill at the time of the previous king or queen’s death and nobody knew what to do. She was not required to be there but traditionally the new monarch led the mourners. Half the family had been prepared to wait but Queen Zivola, recalling the lack of respect Zizania had shown on similar occasions, had insisted they go ahead without her. By the time the Apus reached Nidus, King Tragacanth was already on his journey to the ancestors.)
“If I had my way,” Zizania said, still staring at the Kajawan desert, “I’d leave his body on the plain and let the condors eat him.”
He neglected to remind her that her will was above everybody else’s now; she could order the King’s corpse to be exposed to the vultures and the family would be forced to obey. She had absolute authority. There was even a precedent: Rhizome XIII had so loathed his father he’d kicked his body out of its tomb and taken it for himself.
Nacyon hadn’t described the exact circumstances of Tragacanth’s death; he’d merely said there had been a hunting accident. She hadn’t asked him for details. He dreaded to imagine what she would say when she discovered he’d been pecked at by a Poa-bird. Perhaps she would think it was a kind of ironic justice; he had always loved hunting and now his passion had consumed him.
Neither did he mention the possibility the tragedy might have been orchestrated by her brother. He didn’t know how she would react but suspected she might have given Rhatany a medal and, if it wasn’t true, the Prince would know he had tried to betray him.
