Emotions of all kind slithered through the crowd. Then Red flags waved frantically. Soon the Green and Blue joined them. The Whites’ did not rise above the heads of their supporters.
Wrexel looked up at Shihlo’s wing and watched the flag upon his tower lower. It lowered only for the death of a hero; it had never been lowered for the end of a high-ranking vow. Not even he had flown his flag half-mast at the cycle when a contingent defected in anger over Amber.
Shihlo’s senior officers would have done this automatically, viewing Whyle’s defection as his death.
Wrexel cast a side-glance at his brother and saw him struggling with control. He waved to the crowds below and then escorted Shihlo inside, leaving the Monarch to celebrate as he rained down gifts to all, lavish ones that would be spoken of for days. Wrexel knew it would seem odd for him to slam down the center wall between their balconies, but he didn’t care. The glass rail slid down, causing those who loitered onto his brother’s side to scatter to the Monarch’s.
The brothers moved into Wrexel’s lounge and found Amber sitting beside Staede, who peered at the ground before him in shock.
“Communications?” Wrexel shook with anger.
“Whyle is a genius. I’m sure he had something in place for an event like this.”
“How can you be certain?”
“He told me if he were ever killed, it would automatically pass securely to another. He had a contingency plan.”
“He’s not dead.”
Shihlo paled. “I cannot think somebody as intelligent as Whyle wouldn’t have a way to ensure the Comms tower is secure. The Monarch has done this to gain followers, not take control of communications.”
* * *
They remained in silent horror for a few seconds until Wrexel spoke. “Blackmail. Whyle would lose his life for his house… but he would not give up Rix.”
“Fucking bitch,” Shihlo raged. “He should have given her over with a smile. She does nothing but cause him and all of us distress.”
“Hush, Shihlo. You would do the same for your brothers.” Staede sighed but his brother was inconsolable.
“You caused this!” he growled at Wrexel. “You forced the Monarch’s hand to shame and embarrass us with your pick of a human bride. If you had not snubbed all that Throm holds sacred, Thromians would not be living in the belief that Whyle supports Gilroth’s desire for a pure Throm. Dear God, we will see more defections, especially because we have shown support for your pathetic decision. I should have done what I thought was right at the time, which is denounce your choice publicly.”
“You voted for it to become law. That was enough to show your distaste.” Wrexel looked dangerously angry. Public denouncement would have been tantamount to aligning with the Monarch. A battle would have erupted between the brothers, one that they did not need.
Shihlo was beside himself with anger. “How long before more Thromians stop believing this is a temporary infatuation and start thinking we are happy to dilute our nation?” he roared.
“Count your words, brother, for they are beginning to sound insulting to my wife. I understand your distress at losing Whyle, but you are crossing the line.”
“She didn’t have to be your fucking wife, Wrexel.” Shihlo did not want to calm down. “She can live here forever, without a man challenging you. You had no real reason to do this except your own insecurities and perhaps the insane idea that your dwindling popularity would upset me so much, I would get on board with your war, which I will never support.”
Wrexel snarled right back. “You left that bastard in charge of the house. You kept him in the throne room when a three-day war would have him locked away forever.”
Wrexel launched at Shihlo but pummeled into Staede instead.
“Enough,” Staede said to them both. “Let’s discuss damage control and not hurl insults at each other. This is exactly what the Monarch desires.”
“The best damage control would be a separation. Declare the marriage null and void. Keep Amber here as a mistress,” Shihlo demanded. “Let Throm know you regret your decision.”
Wrexel’s jaw set. “I do not regret my decision. Throm would suspect something if I suddenly came out now with this reaction. I would lose their respect.”
“No, they will believe you are putting Throm first, as you should have from the start,” Shihlo roared. “She will not lose our respect. We have made her our sister.”
As he said this, he realized it was only half true and his eyes fell on Staede. In a move that was astonishingly fast, he clasped him by the lapels. “Call her sister now and ask your brother to change their contract to set the Thromians’ minds at ease,” he demanded.
Staede shoved Shihlo away. “You cannot force me to make claims I do not want.”
“Just do it. She’s your brother’s wife. Why torture him by withholding? Surely you cannot have serious plans about winning her for yourself.”
“My admission will not change what has happened,” Staede said firmly. When both brothers continued staring at him, he added, “I will never call her sister.”
Wrexel stared at Staede in alarm. “Will you not call her sister, even now? She’s my wife!” he roared. “You should have called her this months ago. Instead, you continue trying to take her from me.”
Staede scowled and restrained himself from saying more.
* * *
Wrexel took Amber by the shoulders and placed her directly in front of Staede despite her protests. “Call… her… sister.”
She clasped her mouth in horror to be the cause of their fighting, and stared up at Staede in anguish.
Staede looked at Amber.
Really looked at her.
The days he had spent with her were amazing. She was intelligent and funny, and he loved the time he had with her. For each innocent shared moment, he desired more.
He wanted her in his arms and especially in his bed. He couldn’t in good faith call her sister.
“I will not,” he said softly. “I cannot.” He looked directly into Wrexel’s gaze and cupped Amber’s cheek, asking her not to cry.
She pulled away from him and walked off.
Shihlo lost control and swiped at Staede. When Wrexel’s hand shot out to calm his brother, he took a swipe at him, too.
“Two fools over one Earth woman who didn’t choose to be here,” Shihlo roared at Wrexel.
“Give her the choice to return to her kind, set her free from this insane agreement, and regain Throm’s trust.”
Staede exchanged glances with Wrexel. He knew his brother would never set Amber free. His obsession with her was growing. Initially, it was a source of perpetual amusement to watch how his brother became more obsessed and worried about their friendship. Now Staede couldn’t call her “sister” because he could never see her in that way. He still believed she would one day be his.
“No,” Wrexel said firmly. “I will not.”
“And I will not call her sister,” Staede said when Shihlo turned a murderous gaze on him again.
“If you ever lay another untoward finger on her, I will kill you,” said Wrexel. “I swear I will not consider you as my brother when I throttle you to death.”
Staede looked at Amber as she stood to the side, her arms wrapped about herself.
“You might kill me… but what a way to go.”
Shihlo’s bellows resounded throughout the wing. When the brothers broke into a bone-crunching brawl, Leyahanna dragged Amber from the room.
“Come, my lady. Let them expend their energy,” she said nonchalantly.
“We should stop the fight.” Amber was terrified that somebody would be badly hurt, or worse. She had seen their fingers flexing around their skeths more than once.
Leyahanna was firm. “This is not unusual. It is the way they deal with their frustrations. Tomorrow they will be friends again.”
“But what of Whyle?” She was desperately sorry for him. In the flurry of excitement, Throm might not have noticed the pale and
clearly tortured sister at Whyle’s side, but Amber had. She had also seen that the decision caused Whyle great pain.
Whyle walked into the Monarch’s quarters and shrugged off the red jacket placed on him in front of the crowds. He threw it on the floor and stood on it.
The Monarch merely smiled. “Show your emotions as you wish, Whyle.” He ordered his guards to surround him. “But vent en route to your communication center.”
“Let Rix go,” Whyle demanded, “and wipe her accusation clean.”
Gilroth showed Whyle evidence that Rix had been found innocent of all charges, then turned to Rix.
“Get out of my wing,” the Monarch spat at her in disgust.
“Whyle…” Rix looked at her brother for guidance.
“Go,” he said without looking at her. “Go to Staede.”
Of all the brothers, Staede would probably be the only one who would protect her.
“After you.” The king pointed at his exit.
Whyle realized Gilroth was eager to take the short flight to the communication epicenter. He speculated about the number of times the Monarch had tried similar schemes to gain full control of their Comms and knew he was no fool. He knew he needed Whyle alive for the first security barrier at the tower.
Gilroth would have sliced off his hand already if his own experts hadn’t told him it required Whyle’s blood flowing through his veins to work.
Gilroth’s attempts at kidnapping him had also failed, for he discovered the tower’s droids recorded action outside the stronghold. The king could not be seen dragging his nephew to the epicenter against his will.
There was no way he would gain entry.
Now Whyle would not deny him. It would be treason if he did not obey the new lord of his house.
He shivered when he thought about the number of times he had considered ending his life rather than being in this position: a member of the Monarch’s hated House of Red. In the king’s angry retribution, Rix’s death would have swiftly followed his, and Whyle prized her above all else.
The Monarch gloated, mocked, and boasted of his plans all through the flight. Gilroth’s crew was celebrating, talking of their upcoming control of Throm, with Wrexel and Staede at their mercy.
They boarded the transporter and flew the short distance to his tower.
The tall black stronghold that held his life’s work glittered in the afternoon sun. Rainbow streaks showed its protection by an invisible force shield that Whyle had fully designed and implemented.
They walked up the hill to the first entry point.
* * *
Whyle saw that the Monarch’s experts were both excited and nervous. They had watched him every second he had been in their possession, making sure he did not find a way to transfer ownership. They held him at knifepoint. “No false moves to set off emergency alerts,” they warned him, adding that they knew exactly what he had to do next and would not allow him any move that was out of sync.
“The first post requires his palm print.”
The Monarch’s chief scientist stood at the podium that rested at the bottom of the stairs leading to the entry door to gain access.
Whyle carefully lifted his hand and placed it against the recognition dome. The bulb lit up beneath his fingers. At the initial sound of hissing, the king’s experts almost cheered. However, the door did not slide open.
Five slots above the entrance extended armed lasers pointed at those below.
“Entry denied. Entry denied. Entry denied.”
Whyle turned to his uncle with a sly smile. “Well, it seems I have been relieved of my post.”
The king began trembling.
Whyle smiled. Gilroth was probably reviewing every second during which he was held captive, trying to establish how he managed to make this change without them knowing. The Monarch flew at him and pushed a sketh so tightly against him, warm blood ran down his neck.
Whyle spat in his face and the Monarch responded by head butting him. He felt the impact of Gilroth’s head sinking into his own jaw but he recovered quickly and wiped the blood from his lips with the back of his hand as he laughed. “Did you honestly think I would be this stupid? You measured me with your own intellect, Uncle Gilroth.”
The Monarch turned the sketh on his chief expert, blaming him for Whyle’s victory. He plunged the knife into his stomach repeatedly as all stood in shocked silence.
Then he stepped back, breathing deeply in anger and exertion, the blood of his dead expert dripping from his hands. “Laugh all you want, you little bastard. Your mere presence will gain me popularity at the next full moon swear-in, and with my majority hold, I will take you all down. Nothing will stand in the way of my ridding this planet of you and your cousins.”
He walked off, leaving Whyle laughing after him until he boarded his vessel. Only then did he kneel in shock and consider all that had happened.
He stared up at the tower with overwhelming sadness and rage at the knowledge he would be kept from it. He ran his thumb over the chip insert in his wrist; it was safe with Inndra. Now there was only one thing left for him to do.
The Monarch had to die.
Staede wasn’t thrilled when Rix arrived at his door, but she was a member of his house and had a high regard for Whyle, so he let her inside.
“Please do not say anything to me that I already know and for which I am desperately sorry. I had a terminal illness and the Yimmyrd, Revan healed me when I was on Earth. The Monarch twisted it into treason and was going to kill me.”
Staede nodded.
“If I had known he would do this to Whyle, I would have taken my own life.”
Staede put a hand on her shoulder. “We must be strong, Rix. Losing one of our ranks against Gilroth is never an option. It doesn’t matter what you did in the past; what matters is what you do in the future.”
“I will do anything.”
“Why don’t you clean up and get some rest? Stay here as long as you wish.”
“Staede, I have something important to share.”
“It can wait.” He had a date with a few colonials and a strong desire to forget what had happened that day.
“Staede, I found dead Rak soldiers in the Monarch’s cell.”
He slowed his walk and turned around.
33
Dark Victories
Days later, when the moon aligned and thousands of graduates stood up to take their house vows, the tension was palpable in Wrexel’s lounging area, where all the royals had gathered for the news.
This full moon was a red-dominated event, rich in their celebrations.
House of Green 18, House of White 13, House of Blue 19, House of Red… 50.
Shihlo watched the numbers on his monitor and lowered his head. He closed his eyes against the horror that was one celebration away if the Monarch gained even more supporters for Whyle.
The silence was deafening.
Whyle stood to the side, his head bowed in shame and angst. Amber moved to him; he was the one who needed comfort most. She knew Whyle was loyal to Throm and that no one but Rix could have brought him to his knees. She squeezed his arm until he kissed her hands.
“My sister.”
“Let’s discuss this in private,” Wrexel said.
“There is nothing to discuss,” replied Shihlo. “We will adjourn until tomorrow and deliberate options then. But now it is Amber to whom I wish to speak, not my brothers.”
Wrexel retreated with Staede and Whyle to discuss what Rix had discovered.
Amber was taken aback when Shihlo knelt before her instead of sitting beside her. His blue eyes churned with emotion as he gently took her hand. “I am here to beg your understanding. I did not mean you any offence when I asked my brother to strip you of your title of wife. I am merely fighting for my planet.”
Amber took both his hands. “I forgive you, Shihlo. I know you mean no ill toward me. Never forget that I didn’t want this marriage.”
“Wrexel was right,” he confessed
. “I should have tried to deprive him of more rights, but I chose to placate him instead. I’m trying so hard to keep all that Throm holds dear in place, but it is costing me heavily.” He lowered his head onto her hands, which held his. She ran a hand over his blond tresses, for his sadness pained her deeply. Maintaining Thromian identity and keeping them from sliding into a pit of darkness was a burden with which he struggled daily.
“Sit beside me, Shihlo; you are my brother and my friend.”
When he obeyed, she poured them each a drink. “This move of Whyle’s will influence the youth, won't it?”
“As we have said before, Amber, if you’re in the army, you’re Green, if you’re in the air force, you’re Blue. It’s a no-brainer. Civilians can join the Houses of Green or Blue for honor, such as if their father was in the forces, but citizens choose between Red and White because they do not have to be in a particular field. Because Whyle was in the White, all those going into Comms and technology and science have joined. The Red civilian following remained strong until the last couple of years, when civilians began swearing into my house out of admiration of Whyle. Some who are more liberal appreciate my accord with the federation and the Yimmyrd. They join in uphold of my vision, but Whyle is the real draw.”
“Will there be more defections?”
“I think those who were undecided between the White and Red will choose Red now.”
He accepted the soft drink, his gaze filled with longing. “I wish to make this up to you. My behavior was without thought. You must know that I care deeply for you, Amber. Perhaps I can give you inside news about your people, how they are really doing upon Rheese… anything, please ask?”
Wrexel gave her feedback on occasion and there were newscasts for her to see but she didn’t have the heart to hurt Shihlo. “That would be pleasing.”
“I cannot talk of Travis; it’s counterproductive for you. But let me tell you with whom I have formed an unlikely friendship.”
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