Queen of Empire: A fantasy romance (The Relic Trilogy Book 1)

by HR Moore

  Anita arrived home, showered, changed, and then headed to the Body Temple to find Helena. As luck would have it, Anita didn't have to look for Helena at all; she bumped into her just outside the temple.

  'Anita, hi,' said a surprised Helena. 'I was just coming to find you.'

  'Great minds think alike,' said Anita, 'I was coming to find you too. I've considered what you said,' she continued quickly, before Helena could intervene, 'and I've decided that I can't do what you asked. It's not fair on Marcus, regardless of who his father is.'

  Helena paused, giving Anita a penetrating look, then softened, Anita breathing a sigh of relief.

  'I'd like to show you something,' said Helena. 'Do you have time now?'

  Helena's response took Anita off guard. It was unlike her to ask so nicely; she usually assumed that nobody had anything better to do than comply with her will.

  'Of course,' said Anita. 'What do you want to show me?'

  She gave Anita a frank look. 'It's better for you to see for yourself.'

  Anita knew there was no point in arguing, so she nodded. 'Lead the way.'

  * * * * *

  Helena led Anita to an energy car and climbed into the driver's seat, Anita taking the seat next to her. Helena fired up the car in her usual brisk fashion.

  Helena drove out of Empire and into the countryside beyond. They travelled in silence, neither knowing what to say.

  After only a few miles, Helena turned onto a small, almost hidden track, which wound its way to a large, rundown farmhouse. Helena stopped the car and got out, swinging the squeaky door closed behind her. Anita followed, Helena already halfway across the yard, heading for a storage barn. She pulled the enormous door open on its runners, signaling for Anita to look within.

  Anita peered into the relative dark, waiting for her eyes to adjust, but unless she was missing something, it looked like there was nothing to be seen. 'I'm not sure I understand,' she said, turning to look at Helena. 'There's nothing in there.'

  'And that is precisely the point. Usually at this time of year, this barn is full of grain. Since the news of Christiana's death, crops have started to fail, fishermen have found dead fish floating in the rivers, and as you know from your work at the observatory, we've seen no evidence of the bounce back predicted by Austin. Come with me,' she said, turning away from the barn, heading for an old wooden gate into one of the fields.

  'Look at that,' said Helena, gesturing to a flattened wheat crop. It was black and grey, a far cry from its characteristic golden brown.

  Anita looked gravely at the sight. 'How widespread is it?'

  'Very. Farmers all over the world are reporting issues, some worse than others. This is an extreme example; the farmer has lost nearly everything this year. His farm won't survive another harvest like it.'

  'Will it push up food prices? Is it bad enough to cause shortages?'

  'Prices will increase, but this year we'll probably survive without severe shortages. If it continues into next year, it'll be a different story. I don't know how much prices will go up though; that could lead to protests in itself.'

  'Protests?' said Anita. She'd heard of protests a couple of decades back, but never in her lifetime. 'Who would risk Austin's wrath? And honestly, what can he do about it anyway?'

  'Your generation has no political sense! We used to protest about a whole host of things that mattered. About the Descendants not taking their vows seriously, the education system, draining natural resources in the Wild Lands…until Austin stole that information, and now we can't do a thing.'

  'What would you do if you got it back?'

  'Protest, rebel, help people see that there could be freedom under the Relic if we overthrew the Descendants. We'd give people hope, a better way to live, even if the bloodline is broken. We'd put pressure on the Descendants, make them do what they promise in their vows, make them reinstate the Relic experts.'

  Helena was waving her arms around, caught up in her words. 'We've got to do something, we can't just sit back and take it lying down. Can you imagine a world where you can't get food without having to fight for it? Or where you're not sure when you'll next be able to eat? You'll be alright if you keep in with the Descendants, they've probably already started to stockpile, but if this goes on unchecked…just think of the consequences.'

  'When the Descendants find out the full extent of this, they'll have to take action.'

  Helena laughed a cruel laugh. 'You think Austin's going to come to the rescue of the people?'

  'There are two other Descendants,' said Anita, a warning in her tone. 'Alexander will fight for action, and how could Peter refuse to join him?'

  Anita's words lit a fire under Helena. 'Open your bloody eyes, Anita. Peter is spineless; he'll never stand up to Austin. So it's Alexander against Austin, who has Peter's silent support. That's two Descendants against one; Alexander will never win that way.'

  'But Marcus has influence over Austin. He could make Austin see sense.'

  'By the Gods, Anita, have you really let your feelings for Marcus cloud your judgement to such an extent? Marcus had no power over Austin. He's a puppy who follows his master around, nothing more. The only way Marcus will ever get more power is if he becomes who Austin wants him to be. The only way to get them to listen is to take direct action, and that's why we need you.'

  It was like Anita was thirteen again, receiving a lecture from Helena. But she was no longer Helena's pupil, and if Helena wanted her help, she could damn well ask nicely.

  'Tell me, Helena, why is it I should trust you? You were my teacher and mentor for years, but never once told me anything about my parents, despite knowing how desperate I was for any shred of knowledge.

  'You come to me representing a shady organization that I've never heard of, talking about starting a revolution to overthrow the rule of two of my friends. You want me to steal information from them, but you refuse to tell me what it's about. And worst of all, you dangle the carrot of my parents to try and force me into helping you. As I said before, I've made up my mind; you'll have to find another way.'

  Anita vaulted the gate into the field; she would walk back to Empire. She couldn't stand being around Helena another second.

  * * * * *

  Anita crossed two fields that looked exactly like the first, covered in blackened, flattened crops, so she knew Helena wasn't lying, at least about that. Obviously something had to be done, but she was sure the Descendants, even Austin, would have to act once they really knew what was happening. There was a council meeting in a week or so; they'd take action then.

  As Anita crossed the next field, movement in her peripheral vision caught her attention. In the top corner of the field stood a small stone structure that she recognized as a shrine to the Body God Tatiana. In front of the shrine were two men, one holding a struggling goat, the other holding a knife up to the sky.

  She couldn't hear what they were saying, but after a few moments, the man with the knife lowered his hands and slit the goat's throat. The animal's body collapsed to the floor.

  The two men placed the carcass in the shrine and Anita stopped, stock still, shocked at the sight. She'd heard of sacrifices to the Gods, who hadn't? But she'd never actually seen one. She could only imagine the desperation that had driven these men to such an act. The men knelt in front of the shrine and started to pray.

  * * * * *

  Helena was furious; it couldn't have gone any worse if she'd tried, and worst of all, it was all her fault. The Spirit Leader had warned her about trying to bully Anita, and she'd failed none the less.

  There was nothing that wound up Helena more than her own mistakes, and she hated herself for it. She beat herself up and replayed their discussion in her head, supposing what might have happened if she'd gone about it differently. Maybe she should've told Anita something about her parents, or made something up about the information they were trying to get back? Either way, Anita's faith in the Descendants, especially in Austin's desire to do the rig
ht thing, was worrying.

  Was Anita really so blind to the truth? If she was, then there was no hope…but Anita was the only way… 'Damn it,' she said furiously, mostly because of her own incompetence, 'how could you be such a stupid, blundering idiot.'

  She slammed her balled up fist into the roof of her car before yanking open the squeaky door, clambering in without her usual grace, and slamming the door as hard as she could behind her.

  * * * * *

  Austin knew that Amber was right. If he was to prevent the loss of his son to Anita, he'd have to bring him into the fold. But there was a lot that Austin didn't want Marcus to be involved with, or even know about, and he'd been racking his brain for something suitable for weeks.

  He needed something far enough removed to keep Marcus out of the contentious stuff, yet significant enough that Marcus would find it interesting. He needed something that would make Marcus feel like he was in the inner circle.

  In the end, it was the troublesome Anita herself who had sparked an idea. Anita and Marcus had been discussing her friend Cleo's new found interest in the archives. Cleo was on some mission to uncover something about something, not that that was important, but the archives would be a great place for Marcus to start, at the family vault.

  Each of the three bloodlines had a vault in the archives. Hardly anyone knew they existed, and they came equipped with impressive security systems. Austin had stored some explosive stuff there over the years, along with a load of old family paraphernalia.

  The vault was a place where Marcus could learn things that seemed important, where he could be let in on certain secrets. He would learn about the family's history, but wouldn't have involvement in Austin's day to day business…it would be a while before Marcus was ready for that, if he was every ready.

  Austin thought back to what he'd been like at Marcus' age; exactly like Marcus was now. Young, idealistic, hedonistic, carefree and with no idea how his father really operated. If his father, Tobias, had introduced it to Austin too early, he would have shied away, and Marcus would react the same way. This though was genius. It would seem the troublesome Anita had some perks after all.

  Austin opened the concealed door in the paneling under the main staircase at the castle. He stooped through the gap and ran lightly down the small, cramped flight of stairs within, down to the dungeons, the headquarters of Amber's security team. He greeted the guard sitting behind the desk in his usual curt way. 'Keys to the vault.'

  The guard got up and turned to a cabinet behind him, retrieving a set of large brass keys. He handed them to Austin, saying, 'There you are, Sir. Anything else I can help you with?'

  'No, not today. I'll return these later this evening.'

  The guard didn't respond. He half nodded, waited for Austin to leave, and then sat back down. 'You're welcome, arsehole,' he muttered under his breath when he heard the door click shut at the top.

  * * * * *

  As Austin emerged from the dungeon, Marcus was coming down the stairs. Austin had told Marcus to meet him in the entrance hall at ten, ready for a day of education, whatever the bloody hell that meant. Marcus couldn't think of anything worse than an 'educational day'. In his experience, education and enjoyment did not go hand in hand. However, he was intrigued by what it was Austin wanted to show him, so he'd agreed with little argument.

  'Morning,' said Austin, cheerily.

  'Morning. Ready to tell me where we're going yet?'

  'No. It's a surprise.'

  'I see,' said Marcus, deeply suspicious and a little nervous. This was out of character for his father and that was worrying.

  'Come on; the car is waiting.'

  Austin and Marcus travelled without conversing, Austin not noticing that this was strange and Marcus not knowing what to say to break the silence.

  'Why've you brought me here?' asked Marcus, as they pulled up outside the archives. 'I've never considered myself a great historian Dad.'

  'And I wouldn't consider myself a great historian either, Marcus, however, I find what's inside extremely exciting and I'm sure you will too.'

  Marcus looked dubious. 'If you say so.'

  Austin barely heard Marcus' reply, already striding off up the steps, through the front door and into the beautiful old building that housed the archives. The building had been a lovely country manor house, large and square with high ceilings and enormous full-length windows. It had been one of the earliest buildings constructed in Empire and the stonework had a lovely worn finish that fit perfectly with the ancient artifacts inside.

  Austin breezed past the plush reception area without pausing to say hello to the startled receptionist. He made for a door leading to a staircase to the floor below, Marcus trailing in his wake. The archives had originally been upstairs, but they'd soon needed more space and the light from the windows wasn't good for the artefacts. Everything had been moved to subterranean levels.

  They descended a further two flights of stairs and came out onto a dimly lit floor filled with racks of books, manuscripts, letters, energy meters, brass cylinders, and a whole host of other Relics of the past.

  Austin walked to the back of the floor, to a door separating two racks of books. He checked there was nobody around, pulled out the brass keys he'd picked up earlier, and crouched. He inserted the larger key into a hole in the wall near the floor. To Marcus' surprise, this made a panel in the side of the rack to the left of the door swing open, revealing a small keypad and fingerprint scanner.

  Austin quickly entered a code, then placed his finger on the reader, before swinging the panel shut, leaving no trace, or at least not in the dim light anyway. Austin stood, then used the second brass key to unlock the door as you would any other. He pressed down the handle, and swung open the door.

  Marcus could not have been more disappointed. After all that, the room held nothing but artefacts similar to those outside. Austin had brought him here to make a song and dance about some stuff from the past? Great.

  Austin entered the room and gestured for Marcus to follow him before closing the door behind them. 'Welcome to the family vault,' he said with a flourish. 'This is where we keep the family secrets Marcus, along with documents about our history, and the sacrifices we've made in service of the world.

  'Each Descendant family has a vault here, protected by similar security. We use them to keep things locked away that we would rather not be in the public domain. The best thing is that nobody suspects a thing, as this is the last place anyone would imagine a Descendant would keep secrets. We've had countless raids on our properties over the years, but not a single raid here.'

  'Why have you brought me here?' asked Marcus. Why was his father showing him this now, or indeed at all? Austin had exerted a great deal of effort to keep Marcus away from anything interesting.

  Austin looked surprised. 'To let you in on the family secrets. To start getting you more involved in the work I do, the work you will one day do as a ruling Descendant. To bring you up to speed on our history. All of these things are essential in preparation for power.

  'When you rule, you will find it beneficial to see how previous Mind Descendants have acted when faced with challenges. You can draw on their experiences to shape the decisions you make. But most importantly,' said Austin, looking uncertain, 'I'm showing you this because I hope you'll find it interesting.'

  Marcus felt a pang of guilt that he wasn't being more enthusiastic. After all, this was the first time Austin had ever shared anything with him. It was a pretty big deal, if for no reason other than that.

  'It's great Dad,' said Marcus, with all the enthusiasm he could muster. 'Where should I start?'

  Austin perked up. 'Over here, I think. This is where the brief history of the family is kept. We keep a biographer on hand to document all significant occasions and events. At the end of each reign, a book is compiled about each Descendant, with a summary added to the brief history. I'm afraid these days it's not overly brief. It is, however, a good place to start. Once you
've cracked that, we can move on to other areas.'

  'What are those over there?' asked Marcus, pointing to a row of brass cylinders, the one on the end a little apart from the rest.

  Austin's face pinched. 'We'll deal with those at a later date. They're memories of important things that happened in the past. I store them here for safe keeping, but you'll need a good grounding in our history before we go into those.

  'Nothing can be taken out of this room, and think carefully before letting anyone else know it exists. As I mentioned, part of the success of the vaults is that very few people know about them, and I'm sure I speak for all the Descendants when I say we would like it to stay that way.

  'I've had your fingerprint programmed in and the code is here,' he said, handing Marcus a piece of paper. 'You can collect the keys from the dungeon any time you want, the guards know to give them to you.

  'I hope you find this room inspirational and informative, and if you have any questions about anything you find, my door is always open. For now, I'll leave you to explore the brief history in peace. Just lock the door when you leave and the security will reset.' Austin handed over the keys, leaving Marcus bemused.

  Marcus stood for a moment, wondering whether he was in some bizarre dream, then looked around, contemplating where to start. He was tempted to walk straight over to the brass cylinders, or to start rummaging around in the other piles of stuff that looked much more interesting than a not-so-brief history of the family. But given this was the first time Austin had shown Marcus anything interesting, he thought it best to comply with his father's wishes, at least to start with.

  So he picked up the history, turned on the light suspended over one of two worn old armchairs, sat down heavily, and started to read.

  CHAPTER 13