In the fifty years since his suggestion, genetic modification of plant material had advanced further in Zenina, than in other planetary systems, improving both taste and yields without damaging the planet’s ecology. A few very carefully selected varieties of food crops were sold within the Empire but there was no advertising of the advances they had made. Zeninan policy was to not divulge any information to non-Zeninans, preferring the universe to know little about the planet Zenina itself.
The organic methods used in Zenina agriculture were more complicated than spraying crops with fertilisers, pesticides, fungicides, and herbicides. But Father Debenden knew too little to understand that. He saw only erudite conversation as proof of intelligence. Nor had he realised most of the people he met were speaking to other people in their minds whilst conversing with him.
So Father Debenden had learned little from his visit. He had enjoyed some good food and experienced some unwanted exercise and a few frights. He had not acquired the ability to make good judgements in his three days’ residence. He would have been amazed to discover most Zeninans found his thoughts sloppy, pompous and inane. He thought he was intelligent and was not aware of patronising his hosts.
Chapter Eight - Konsky seeks Instruction
Father O'Flaherty was already up and was pottering about his garden, not because it needed doing, but because he loved the fresh air of morning. He had a Ruby gardener who worked four shifts a week there, but usually at dusk when she checked on the irrigation and weeded or trimmed as necessary. However the Bishop was finding the young priest's company irritating.
“I wonder if I was like that as a young priest, I don’t think I could have been that naïve. The young man isn’t stupid but seems never to have learned how to think. His mind holds stores of knowledge, if of a very narrow discipline, but it’s hung around with so much waffle and prejudice, any opinions he reaches are usually wrong.” He pulled a weed with some glee and placed it on a small pile he had created.
“I gave him some children's text books on Zenina intended for the children of would-be settlers. They were translated into Markaban which Father Debenden is fluent in. I hoped he’d learn something about Zenina from them, but he dismisses facts as hyperbole and imposes his own theories on reality. He is bored and thinks Zeninans are stupid, I can’t introduce him to the great intellectuals of Hemithea; they’d be full of derision for him. He’d be mercilessly lampooned and ridiculed, but he’d think them stupid and flattered by his interest. Even Marina who’s remarkably tolerant with non-Zeninans finds her patience worn thin by him. She is avoiding Father Debenden.”
Father O'Flaherty and Marina had discussed Carina's children. Agreeing taking them to the farm was the best temporary situation. Marina was supposed to be in training. In Hemithea, she found it hard to fit in a couple of hours a day. She needed more exercise than that. He would be pleased to get rid of Father Debenden and Floren to the farm too.
Their thoughts intruded on him and the condescending attempts of the elder to understand Zenina and the lustful longings of the boy were very tiresome.
“Jessina is a sweetheart; she’s no problem at all. I’ll miss her when she goes to the farm, though I expect she’ll return with Marina for the Games.”
Konsky interrupted the old man's solitude. He had run over to discuss the education of his step-daughter and children. He knew he had not made full use of the expanded capacity of his brain and now realised Princess Marina's threats were not hollow. The old man who had so successfully taught talented children would be an excellent guide on how to start. It had not occurred to him that Marina in giving him the task of supervising the children was training him as well.
He had no inkling she might want him educated. He had a fit attractive body and lots of stamina, what more did a woman want? That Charles was intellectually superior to him he had not yet discovered. He accepted Charles might be more skilful in bed, though he doubted it. That his brain was better used was an esoteric point he had missed.
Konsky was piqued. He had expected Princess Marina to summon him to bed, but she had not even come home last night. Charles must be going to be discarded. Konsky wanted to impress her with his own charms, but how if she did not bed him?
“I started off on the wrong tack with Marina; I let her take control. Carina was a different sort altogether. I can’t fathom Marina out, but I’d like to have her and get rid of Charles.”
“Will Charles be going to the farm?” asked Konsky.
“I don’t know,” Father O’Flaherty replied. He thought to himself, “Charles doesn't like farming smells much, but he doesn’t like leaving Marina with rivals either. Should I warn Konsky? If Konsky hasn’t figured out the pecking order yet, he soon will. Charles' methods of dealing with possible pretenders to his throne are not subtle, but they are effective.”
Father O'Flaherty recalled another such bumpkin, Lizal by name. Marina had liked him, not long after she purchased Charles. Charles made sure he departed. No, the supply of a sexual suppressant, telling the poor deluded Lizal it would have the opposite effect was not subtle. Marina had been furious; but far angrier with Charles than Lizal.
Lizal confessed naming Charles, ashamed at his gullibility. Marina had flogged them both, but sold Lizal. She told him any man, who thought he needed sexual stimulants, was not man enough for her. Charles had been forced to swallow twice the dose he gave Lizal and then ordered to perform as usual. He managed but his performance left much to be desired.
For the unsatisfactory performance he received a second flogging. Marina's anger lasted a full month. During that time he was confined to the Golden Palace where Marina was then living. In the first few days he took a guard to his bed. Princess Marina had him flogged for it. She did not attend the beating. Charles was distraught; would she forgive and keep him? That evening she checked on him, he was overjoyed, begging for forgiveness.
“I’ll never touch or look at another woman,” he swore.
She laughed at him. “Why do you think you’ve been punished?”
“For serving the guard,” he replied.
“You were flogged for not accepting your punishment for your treatment of Lizal.” Charles did not understand.
“You must learn you will not profit from jealousy. Until I believe you’ve learnt that lesson, you’re confined to the Palace without privileges. You will wait until my wrath cools or I decide to sell you.”
What could he do to make reparations? She did not tell him but he spent an unpleasant month, hoping for her anger to subside. He was used to being exercised to his limits. He kicked his heels burning for her. Marina brought no other men to her rooms in the Palace, but was frequently out. Charles went to bed alone, but barely slept. He followed Marina around the Palace like a lap dog, fetching and carrying for her before any servant could.
He spent a lonely, miserable, frustrating month but did not give up hope of winning Marina back. He refused to beg to be sold to a more affectionate owner. To Charles, a month without a woman hurt more than being flogged, but he did not seek another woman’s bed and was determinedly sweet towards Marina. At the end of the month, she summoned him. It was early morning and he had barely slept but he rushed to obey her order, hoping for forgiveness. She was wrapped in a towelling robe, her hair loose in waves down her back, still damp from her bath. He waited kneeling at her feet for her to speak.
She silently slipped the robe off her shoulders letting it slide to the floor. Charles stared up at her. She did not move. He kissed the toes of her feet and moved to her ankles, he kissed her calves and the backs of her knees. She stood unmoving. He took her in his arms and kissed her lips first tentatively then roughly, hungrily. Gently she kissed him back enfolding him in her arms. He did not need words to know he was forgiven. He lovingly carried her to her bed, stripped and joined her. His efforts were enthusiastic but lacked style and duration. He knew it; but no criticism or punishment followed. When Marina left him to go about her duties, he slept deeply cheri
shing the scent of her body that clung to her bed.
Father O’Flaherty had listened to both Marina’s and Charles’s versions of the story. Some months after Lizal was sold, Charles sought the old man out. Although Marina had welcomed him back to her bed, he felt guilty about Lizal and had been unable to talk about it to anyone. Charles felt relief at having confessed to the old priest.
Father O’Flaherty heard Marina’s tale in confession a year after that. Marina’s occasional confessions seemed designed to shock her forbearing priest, but actually having listed her various sexual encounters and regretted them not one jot, she confessed the sins she felt guilty about.
“I am at fault for wanting to get out of being Champion, and of the Army. I don’t work hard enough. I lost my temper with servants and soldiers who failed to follow my orders properly. I’m not always kind to my friends, saying things that hurt them even if it was true. I regret the men who have committed suicide over me and that I cannot love my mother as I ought.”
So when she confessed about how she had treated Charles, he had already heard Charles’s side of the story. He expected her to feel guilty for the three floggings he had received. She was not.
“Why do you feel guilty about how you treated Charles if not for beating him?”
“He deserved the beatings. Lizal was beaten and sold because of him. So he deserved the first two beatings and I didn’t delegate them because that would have been more cruel. He had to learn he wouldn’t profit from his jealousy. His real punishment was a month without me. A month’s abstinence must have been agony for Charles, worse than if I flogged him every night. I did not touch or give him any affection. I should’ve forgiven him sooner, I know he loves me, but he had to prove to me how much he loved me.”
“I was annoyed at his jealousy but demand total devotion which I don’t return. I’m guilty of both cruelty and hypocrisy. I spun his punishment out gratuitously. I should free or sell him but knowing he’s there to come home to, helps me deal with the stress of my life.”
Father O’Flaherty admired Marina through their years together, seeing her as a caring doctor, a disciplined army officer, a merciful judge and a brilliant diplomat. But in private, she criticised herself for failing to treat her friends and lovers gently. She saw her own minor imperfections as a sign of tyranny and as proof of her unsuitability to rule. She dreaded her taint of cruelty would overwhelm her, if she held the reins of power. She feared power would corrupt her absolutely and her reign would be an era of terror.
In vain, Father O’Flaherty tried to convince her that cruelty would be in all aspects of her life, not only one.
“You are moderate compared to the standards of Zeninan Society. You already rule Zenina, even if your mother remains figure-head. Where is the proof of your unfitness to reign? You’re hard-working, intelligent, efficient, honest and just. What better qualities are there for a queen? Your people love you. They need the reforms, only you can bring about. No one expects you to be perfect. You demand too much from yourself.”
Father O’Flaherty gave practical advice to Konsky about the children’s education and they talked for a couple of hours, with the priest providing names to contact to help him with planning their curriculum. When they had finished, Father O’Flaherty gave Konsky one more piece of advice.
“Don’t” he said, “try to oust Charles. You won’t succeed and he’s a bad enemy. In any dispute Princess Marina will side with Charles.”
Konsky laughed, but was no longer so certain he would push Charles out. If Charles decided to get rid of him, he could be split from the twins. Father O’Flaherty was right, better to keep on Charles’s good side. It went against the grain to be second slave, but second slave to Marina had more status than first slave to any other mistress.
Chapter Nine - Kurgian Object of Desire
Prince Ga’Mikkal was awake and discontented. He had lain with Zadina that night but his thoughts strayed to Marina. Zadina had been annoyed with his lack of concentration and accused him of toying with her affections. After calming down her tantrum, he had returned to the Embassy early that morning. Entering by the side door, he thought he caught a glimpse of something big slide into the river. He knew it was not possible. The force shields were still on, not even a fly could get in or out of the Embassy gardens and if somehow the force shield was breached, an alarm would go off that would awaken everyone in the building.
Ga’ Mikkal had hoped Marina would contact him, but she had probably been too busy. His spy’s report on her movements yesterday told him she had been at the hospital until early morning. Where she had gone at dawn, his spy could not tell. She had not used the transport from the hospital instead she had run to Hemithea. His spy had been left panting for breath far behind.
So he was ignorant of her drinking tour and whom she had bedded. He did not even know of Ga’Riyal’s presence in Zenina. He believed a report from a Kurgian battle-ship stating they destroyed his craft with all hands on board. They did indeed destroy a pirate ship, but it had not been Riyal’s.
Ga’Mikkal’s desire for Princess Marina affected his peace of mind. In exquisite copper plate handwriting, he drafted an invitation to dinner at the Embassy, thinking the whole time of bedding her. Then he ordered its delivery with flowers to her home.
***
Far away on Kochab, another man dreamt of Marina. King Ga’Mishrin never ceased regretting her leaving, tossing and turning remembering the perfume of her hair and the feel of her flesh. In his dream he used her unmercifully in diverse ways. She submitted smiling sweetly, her love shining in her eyes. He woke with his mind retaining the dream’s images, surprised his dreaming mind longed for her love. Lusting for her body he expected, but it had been long since anyone had loved Ga’Mishrin and even longer since he loved anyone other than himself.
If Princess Marina would make some semblance of loving him, he would give her anything she wanted to make staying with him bearable. He would make her his Queen. He would give her a hospital to keep her occupied.
“I’ll allow her lovers, even if I send them to their deaths straight after. I’ll try to be gentle with her.”
The dreams warmed his heart with pleasurable emotions. Ga’Mishrin was briefly happy thinking of Marina. So happy, his servants noticed the universe’s most unlovable man was not his usual revolting self. When lunch passed with him ordering only two floggings and no executions, they were worried, was he ill?
Prince Ga’Mushrang came upon the King in his cheerful mood and promptly destroyed it.
“When is Ga’Mikkal expected to return from Zenina?”
“I don’t know or care,” Ga’Mishrin said.
“Did you send the Purple Daggers with him?” Ga’Mushrang asked.
“No, what are you talking about?” The King demanded.
“The Purple Daggers, the whole regiment departed on secret manoeuvres, the day after Ga’Mikkal left. I can’t find where to; but also missing is a large supply of the new explosive. All the Purple Daggers’ space-ships left Kochab and filed no space paths.”
Ga’Mishrin went crazy! “Find out!” He yelled, “Find out what Mikkal is up to, and bring him back in chains!”
Ga’Mushrang was jubilant, now only Prince Ga’Mazadeh stood in his way of becoming heir to the throne. Ga’Mishrin could not live forever. Prince Ga’Migushtan was physically weak but although he had a large following, he was sure Mishrin would never make him heir.
“How could that catamite produce heirs? Prince Ga’Mazibad had always been a long shot; I don’t even have to consider him.”
Mushrang departed from the King’s presence considering ways to arrange Ga’Mazadeh’s demise.
“Sabotage, a nice little bomb; or poison. Poison was always good. How can I get him to swallow it?” Ga’Mushrang mused happily to himself.
Did Mishrin sire all five of us princes? We’ve a close family resemblance; incest and adultery never troubled Mishrin’s conscience. My mother was Mishrin’s sister as
is Ga’Mazadeh’s. The other three Princes are sons of cousins and a niece. People wonder how Ga’Mishrin fathered so many sons on mistresses yet none on his wives. I know it’s logical, because not all poisons affect the person who consumes them; some work only on an unborn child.
My official father, my mother’s husband, Prince Ga’Mushak told me on his deathbed of his removal of the King’s legitimate children. He was dying from one of his own poisons, which was rotting his insides whilst he lived. Ga’Mishrin forced him to swallow it when another of his poisonings became known. But Ga’Mishrin never held my father’s crimes against me. If the stories are true, why should the King blame his own bastard for a cuckold’s crimes?
Ga’Mushrang resembled Ga’Mishrin in character and in appearance, although Mishrin was now a grotesque parody of his former beauty. Ga’Mushrang was handsome with the arrogance of one who has always been obeyed. If he did not always obey Mishrin, he made sure he was never caught.
He had only one blemish, the last joint of the fourth finger on his right hand was missing. A pet reptile he had kept as a child had devoured it one day when he was not careful. The pet he had killed and served for lunch the next day, along with the servant whose duty had been to care for his pet. He had been six years old. They were the first killings he ordered. He was disappointed to find both his servant and the saurian were tough and of poor flavour. So his next lunch was the cook, who tasted much better; the cooking improved from then on, he noted.
Chapter Ten – Misunderstandings
Heroine of Zenina Page 6