The meal looked even more distasteful than usual. She would just as soon forget this day. She’d definitely tried already. After her meeting with Alexander she delivered her final report to the Elder and thought her part done. Later, somehow, she found herself locked away, again reviewing the data tapes captured from the Scythians. In Alexander’s memories she found all the facets he had shown her; the curiosity, courage, honor, humor, and even the taciturn stubbornness that could engulf his personality when pushed.
His lives were violent but without the malignant tendencies she associated with criminals. He was a merciful victor even against enemies who personally wronged him. His actions lacked the wanton cruelty, and the joy of cruelty, she’d expected. There were many more memories of a more compassionate nature than there were of glories won, or violence accomplished. This no longer surprised her, and it lent credence to the strength of his character. As she watched the tapes again she felt all the pieces of her suspicions, especially the ones concerning her personal opinions, neatly falling into a very restless picture.
Alexander grew and matured into a being at once vibrant and wise, as their elders. Watching him was almost as if recalling memories of someone she knew, or should know. She did not find that feeling comfortable at all, but at the same time it stirred a great regret towards her actions. In an attempt to purge herself of unwelcome feelings she drank more wine than usual; she’d lost an opportunity to explore a man who might mean a great deal to her empire, and possibly, just possibly, to her as well.
“Nazar, would it be too much to ask for you to find a house of your own,” the smooth voice of Bureel whined, waking her from her thoughts. “Really, welching off your sister and I is beneath someone of you stature, not to mention your age. Might I advise you to take a wife and make a life of your own?”
“What and miss time with my melancholy sibling, as well as your inestimable charm?” Nazar entered the dining room with a flourish, kissed his sister on the forehead and seated himself. “What’s for supper, I am understandably famished? I’ve just finished arranging transport for Alexander to Pantrixnia. As you know I shall have the honor of accompanying him to that planet of endless pleasures!”
“Oh, please Nazar, don’t joke of it,” Nazeera asked limply, pouring another glass of wine. It was bold and heady, dulling the growing pain in her consciousness.
“If only I’d been there to watch him plead for his life,” Bureel grinned in between his more measured sips of wine.
“Now there’s a being who wouldn’t stoop to pleading. I would stake my life on it!” Nazar retorted.
“That would be an interesting wager,” Bureel mused. Then he smiled his best snake’s grin and added, “He doesn’t deserve a warrior’s death. Slit his throat and be done with it.”
“And who will take the knife to him, Bureel, you?” Nazeera asked, her voice taking on a dangerous tone. When he didn’t answer she laughed. “I thought as much!” Nazeera filled her glass and Nazar’s as well. She did not fill Bureel’s. “You know, in one life Alexander held an army at bay on a bridge alone and armed with only an axe. He kept them from crossing that bridge for a full quarter decurn, suffering wound upon wound, but he would not fall and he would not yield. Finally an enemy ignobly stabbed him from beneath and he was overwhelmed, but the mounds of dead were a testament to his courage.”
“What’s an axe, some form of primitive energy weapon?” Bureel asked.
Nazeera leaned forward with a sneer, “No Bureel, it is a semi-circular metal blade mounted on a wooden handle. It’s used in hand-to-hand combat. It shears off limbs, and heads, quite effectively.”
“Distasteful,” Bureel said.
“Barbaric! What a splendid way to die!” Nazar exclaimed with a smile, fully versed in the story but well prepared to delve into Alexander at Bureel’s expense. “I do think I’m beginning to like this fellow more and more all the time. He’s certainly more of a model male than many a pretender I know. Though I know much about him from your interrogations, my dear sister, I can’t pretend the intimacy to which you’ve studied his lives. What else has he done?”
Bureel complained, “Oh please, do we need to talk of the Terran during dinner. The mere thought of his pallid skin and lizard’s eyes takes away my appetite.”
Nazeera ignored him, “He was a king, but he didn’t fare so well in that role; too young in experience I think, or maybe the realm was too small for his aspirations. Thereafter, he was a statesman, a pirate, and in one of his more interesting lives a general. It was in a cold land where snow, such as we have on our outer worlds, laid on the ground throughout much of the perium. He commanded a primitive civilized army, one in which they used single shot projectile weapons and beasts of burden for transportation. A great conqueror at the head of a vast army invaded his land. Overmatched, he decided not meet the invader in open battle. He stood when he could inflict damage, and then withdrew. He burned as he fell back, sacrificing even his cities.”
“Coward,” Bureel spat.
“It’s a general’s task to seek victory, not just a glorious death Bureel,” Nazar said. “I suspect that’s what occurs, as otherwise the story would lack relevance. It’s difficult to accomplish a more admirable death than you’ve already described. Anything else would be redundant.”
“Truly, Nazar, you have the makings of a general yourself,” Nazeera told him. “He fell back repeatedly, burning his own cities until the snows came. When the winter sapped the strength of the enemy he attacked and destroyed them. The great conqueror never again led his army abroad. The victory changed the course of history on his planet.”
“You see, sometimes, Bureel, it is better to be a living hero than a dead martyr,” Nazar said, sipping his wine and pointing a long finger at his despised brother-in-law. “The fellow has pluck, and guile. We could use a friend like that on Terra, as opposed to sending him to Pantrixnia.”
“We’ve covered this territory before, Nazar. I couldn’t change it even if I wanted to.”
“Which means you’ve thought about it already,” Nazar replied, and he glanced at Bureel. “Too bad, really, he’s not bad looking, for an alien. He’s got enough bravado to stand up to you, Nazeera. He’d make you a good husband, if you were free.”
Nazeera stifled an exclamation—too surprised to respond.
“You have the gall to insinuate such a thing!” Bureel scowled.
“Pure practicality,” Nazar smiled. “Think of it, a union between Terra and the Chem; the debate about this Terran threat would finally end!”
“Really, Nazar, that’s just about enough,” Nazeera said, but without any real enthusiasm. With the wine in her head Nazar’s idea almost sounded logical, if not desirable. She couldn’t actually marry Alexander, of course, could she?
Nazar ignored her and addressed his plan to Bureel, “Consider it Bureel, you could repeat your challenge to the Terran, he’d kill you and marry Nazeera. The threat to Chem would be over. You’d be a hero, well; actually, you’d be a martyr. Think of it! You’d have done the state a great service and died a good death! What more can one ask for?”
Bureel stomped away from the table enraged. He stopped, however, at the entrance to the dining room. A figure blocked his way; a very large muscular figure. It was a figure that could only belong to a Terran.
CHAPTER 24: Dinner, a Glass of Wine, and Moonlight
“Good evening,” Alexander smiled evilly, his voice hardly above a growl. “May I assume that I’m addressing Bureel?”
“Terran dog, what are you doing here?” Bureel exclaimed, his light flesh turning dark red.
“Don’t worry, Bureel, I’m in the company of an automaton. I am, of course, unarmed. That’s indeed a fortuitous precaution for one of us.”
Bureel interrupted, and motioned to the automaton floating behind Alexander. “Take this carcass away! Bring him back to his cell to await transport. Then report to me, I want to know under what authority this dog was allowed to leave his cell!”
“Under my authority, Bureel,” Nazar chimed in. “At sunset the charge of the prisoner, Alexander of Terra, was transferred to me. Alexander is on his way to my ship, but we have unfinished business here, don’t we Alexander?”
“We do indeed,” Alexander smiled, then he turned to Bureel and his voice grew grave, but he didn’t display any emotion. “Your challenge to me, Bureel of the Assemblage, is accepted. It will be answered at what time you wish, at what place you name and with what weapons you may choose so long as I’m provided the opportunity to familiarize myself with them. I charge you to uphold your challenge before the noble Nazeera of the Triumvirate, Nazar of the Upper House of the Assemblage, and these excellent witnesses. How do you answer?”
Bureel emitted a guttural cry of rage and attempted to force his way past the Terran. When Alexander did not budge he turned on his heel and left the room in another direction.
“May I take that for a yes?” Alexander called after him.
“Come in, come in Alexander,” Nazar told him. He got up and went forward to meet the man.
“You’re just in time for dinner. Now that nasty business is over please do come and sit down,” Nazar ushered Alexander to a chair next to Nazeera and then sat down.
Nazeera attempted to hide her surprise, with limited success. She didn’t need ask the obvious question, however, as Nazar explained presently. “I paid Alexander a visit, in preparation for our little excursion. He informed me that on Terra it’s the custom for a condemned prisoner to be granted a final wish: a “last request,” that’s what you call it isn’t it?” After an assenting nod the Chem continued, “The request seemed reasonable, especially for one going to Pantrixnia, and so upon hearing it I took it upon myself to grant it.”
“And this request was for me?” Nazeera exclaimed.
“Dear me no, my sister, would I sell you so cheaply?” “I’m beginning to wonder.”
“It was for dinner, and specifically, dinner with you, Nazeera. The request seemed reasonable.”
“Oh, did it?”
“Yes, after all when will we get another opportunity to have such an interesting dinner guest?” Nazar said, and then he addressed himself to Alexander. “You may try anything you like; I don’t think there is anything harmful to your physiology. I welcome you to our table, and I’m certain Nazeera is glad to see you as well. She is really quite extraordinary, and normally open minded. I have quite a high opinion of her, notwithstanding that she is my sister. Tell me, as guest to host, what opinion have you formulated over the last decurns? Do not feign ignorance or courtesy Alexander, I warn you. You’ve spent too much time in each other’s company not to form at least a professional opinion of her.”
Alexander smiled at the flush in Nazeera’s cheeks, but he answered diplomatically, “I find her remarkably suited to the responsibility of her position. She is highly intelligent, insightful, and can even be understanding, when she desires. I would not wish to number her amongst my adversaries.”
“A fair assessment, considering the politics of the situation,” Nazar said, filling Alexander’s metal goblet with a fragrant red fluid. “Now, you don’t have to answer this, it’s a dangerous question, Alexander, and I shall know a lie when I hear it. Still, I’m curious. As a male, and male-to-male, tell me what you think of my sister.”
Nazeera didn’t protest, but Alexander saw that she was holding her breath. He tilted his head slightly to the side, his hand lightly cradling his wine, and smiled. “When the beauty and power of a woman carve her image forever in the mind of a man, then she is nothing less than an enchantment. If this be the price for your prison planet then I am well paid.”
He raised his glass and drank to her.
Nazeera’s jaw dropped in surprise.
Alexander smiled at her.
Nazar laughed and exclaimed, “Marvelous, how paradoxical, a warrior-poet! That was well-answered, don’t you think, Nazeera?”
Nazar’s pleasure was interrupted by a low gong. A message addressed to him instructed him to take command of the cruiser “Shen Fuur” immediately. The Chem sighed, and told Alexander, “Your transportation to Pantrixnia, I’m afraid.”
“Well, at least I will not be bereft of civilized company,” Alexander answered, “Unless, of course, I’m to be put in isolation.”
“There is no requirement for it,” Nazar said. “You have only a short time, Alexander; enjoy it, but not too much. My dear sister I shall see you upon my return.” He kissed Nazeera’s cheek with a wide grin, and happily left the two alone.
Nazeera cradled her brow in her hands, massaging her temples.
“Does Nazar do this to you often?” Alexander asked.
“No, you’re the first Terran that he’s brought home to dinner,” she laughed nervously.
“Good, I then stand in unique company,” he laughed in reply. “Seriously, though, I must apologize to you Nazeera.”
“Apologize, for what?” Nazeera glanced up at him.
Alexander smiled sheepishly and sipped his drink. Tasting it produced a gratifying expression, and a comment on its excellence, but it only served to lengthen the uncomfortable moment. How much to admit? He asked himself. Then he reminded himself that he’d never see this beautiful, amazing, intriguing, powerful woman again.
“I find myself in perhaps too many unique positions at the moment, Nazeera. I didn’t want our relationship to end—at least not on so formal a note. You have your duty and I have mine, but there is a personal side to this adventure.
“I realize it may be against your customs, and your station, but I think I have the right to be a little selfish. The Pantrixnia nights will be somewhat shorter with the memory of my time with you. Despise me if you like, but I wanted my dinner date. Whatever roles reality may assign us to play, Nazeera, my imagination tells me things could have been much different if we met under different circumstances. Don’t worry, though, my intentions this evening are honorable and quite easy to fulfill. A quiet dinner with you is all I ask for. Besides they’ve given me an implant. One wrong move and the automaton gives me some ungodly number of volts through my brain.”
Nazeera started to smile, and even reached out to touch his hand, but suddenly, vehemently, she regained her perspective. “Alexander, I will not have this!” she told him, cradling her temples. “It was irresponsible for Nazar to bring you here tonight, as if it was some form of social event, and you’re not making this any easier. When will you realize just what a sentence to Pantrixnia means? It’s a death sentence, Alexander. It will be a violent and painful death without even the possibility of a decent burial. How can you sit here and want to have dinner with the woman who is sending you to this fate?”
Alexander smiled, “You are intent on spoiling my evening.”
“Alexander!” she almost screamed his name at him. Then, as if all the energy drained from her she closed her eyes and said, “You’re making this extraordinarily difficult. Is this your revenge? You make me actually care about your fate, knowing I have to watch your destruction and then live with the weight of it for the rest of my life?”
Alexander laughed, and said, “Nothing so devious, Nazeera. We all die, but how many of us get the chance to do something with our lives? I don’t see the point in worrying about it. I’ll deal with Pantrixnia when I need to. At the moment, however, I’m not on Pantrixnia. I am, amazingly enough, having dinner with the powerful, exotic, and beautiful Nazeera of Chem. The very reality of it makes my future adventures more than bearable. It’s a bit of magic I could never have dreamed up, and one that no one would ever believe. Now come, you can treat it as a tête-à-tête between dignitaries if you like. I’m perfectly willing to be the captured Warlord of Terra if that’s what the noble Nazeera of the Triumvirate of Chem requires to be sociable. Trust me. I promise I’ll behave.”
“In what way I wonder?” Nazeera smiled, and she finally allowed a trickle of laughter to overwhelm her. “Alexander, Alexander, how can I defy you? Your req
uest is eloquent if not realistic, and I suppose you did save my life. If apologies are in order I must add my own. I enjoyed these last decurns no less and no more than you. If things are not as they could be, between yourself and Chem, I can only plead that I was doing my duty as best I could to my empire, and myself.”
“We each have our duty, Nazeera; don’t beat yourself up over it.”
“I’m not certain what you mean, Alexander, but you’ve cajoled me into this little dinner of yours. Tell me, what can I expect? From your colorful past I should perhaps be prepared for some trickery or deceit. Is this how you drew in your cousin the King?”
“You cut me to the quick. That’s not one of my shining moments. I was a noble lord and man succumbing to greedy opportunity, persuaded I might add by the wiles of my wife. She knew just what switches to throw to spur the dark side of my ambition! Ah, but I was much younger then, and she was not like you at all—it was an arranged marriage, rather like yours. I hope I’ve improved with age.”
“I think you have, but I can’t decide with whom I’d rather share this dinner.”
“How do you mean?”
“Well, your Viking was somewhat too barbaric, though interesting. To sit at the same table as your King would not give me a moment’s comfort, and to dine with Alexander the Chancellor would be tedious. The pirate Alexander is quite a close match to you at the moment, forgetting the fact that he was a scoundrel.”
“An honorable scoundrel,” Alexander corrected her. “As a pirate he didn’t believe in some of the more heinous crimes of his peers; i.e. rape and the romantic practice of “walking the plank.” To women he behaved with chivalry, and to his captured adversaries there was something positively Chem-like in him. He never could stomach the execution of a helpless being, so instead of feeding them to the sharks he had the habit of dropping them off in the wilderness. Not a charitable solution, but honorable, I think.”
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