The Exxar Chronicles: Book 02 - Emissary

by Neal Jones

  "Hhmmm? Oh yes. I saw some."

  "How come you don't have these fixed?" She caressed a second one that must have been the result of a blade, not a disruptor. "Do they still hurt?"

  "Sometimes." He gently rolled her off him and stood. He walked naked into the kitchen and she followed, pulling on a robe. Kralin dipped a slice of bread in the sauce while Inedra poured two more glasses of wine.

  "I can reheat that for you."

  He shook his head as he set the plate on the table. "It's good, and I'm starving."

  They both nibbled from the same plate, eating in silence. Kralin was right, the thryt was still delicious even after sitting on the counter for over an hour. It didn't take them long at all to clean the plate, and Inedra sliced more bread while Kralin refilled his glass.

  "So is this what you had in mind when you met me on the docking station three days ago?" he asked as he reclined in one of the easy chairs near the window. The shades were drawn.

  Inedra laughed. "Not exactly." She settled into the opposite chair, popping bites of meat in between sips of wine. "But it was a welcome surprise."

  "Do you have any irrila?"

  Inedra nearly choked on her wine, and Kralin laughed at her expression.

  "Are you surprised because I'm asking, or because you're wondering how I knew you had some?"

  "Both actually. And you're right. I did buy a few packs on my way back to homeworld. I have enough left for a couple rolls." She set down her glass and walked to the closet where her suitcase was stored. She returned with a tiny pouch and some paper.

  Kralin downed the last of his wine while he watched her roll the cigarettes, and when she was finished she lit them both and handed him one. He motioned for her to sit on his lap, and he unfastened the robe, letting it fall to the floor beside the chair. For the rest of the afternoon Kralin had no more thoughts of his parents, the vineyards, or even Exxar-One.

  ( 6 )

  Vatra laid her head upon Sierik's bare chest, listening to his heartbeat and savoring the afterglow of mutual orgasm. They were in her bedchamber, and the holo-screens were displaying a moonlit vista of the Polgrin mountains, a chain along the coast of Delash, which was located on one of the Emperium's many planetary resorts. Vatra watched the lazily circling shadow of a nightbird as it passed in front of the moon, and she imagined herself on that faraway island, on the other side of the empire, thousands of light years from her half-brother and the royal court.

  Sierik stirred, lifting his head. "What?"

  "Hhmmm? I didn't say anything."

  "You sighed." He scooted up so his back was resting against the headboard, and Vatra clambered out of bed to reach for her robe.

  "I'm just a little tired."

  "It's more than that. Your appetite tonight was less than...voracious. We still have another hour before Lyka is finished with her massage."

  Vatra's smile was weak, and she nestled against her cousin, resting her head on his shoulder. "I'm sorry. I'm just not in the mood tonight."

  "The whole court is still in a daze," Sierik remarked. "I'm really not looking forward to dinner tomorrow."

  "Erengaar knows that Jharek is his son."

  "What? How do you know?"

  "Because he told me."

  "You've talked to Erengaar? When?"

  Vatra told him about the previous night in the stone gardens. When she was finished she sat up and turned to Sierik, watching his reaction.

  "He's sending you into exile."

  "Yes, I know, but why??"

  "Vatra, you've just escaped a death sentence. Assuming, of course, that your brother keeps his word. If I were you I'd be relieved."

  "I am. But I just can't understand the part about being a spy. What or whom does he want me to keep an eye on? Third Lovar R'Daak?"

  "Probably. But from what you just told me it sounds like he's more interested in the star system controlled by the Talik'Jhor."

  "But why? The Talik'Jhor report to no one but the Lord Emperor. He's the only one in the empire from whom they have no secrets. So why would he need someone to spy on them?" She was off the bed and pacing by now. "I'm scared, Sierik!"

  He reached out and pulled her back onto the bed, wrapping his arms around her. "It has to be because of your son. Erengaar can't publicly admit that he's Jharek's father, and yet he needs the boy in case Larewyn can't give him a son of his own. He has every right to sentence you to death, but if he does that he has to kill Jharek as well. And he's not prepared to go that far. Not yet, anyway."

  "I know. That's what I keep telling myself, but what if Larewyn does bear him a son in the next year? Erengaar can still have Jharek and me killed, even in exile. And that's what has me more terrified than anything right now." She pushed away from Sierik and drew her knees to her chest, focusing her gaze on a piece of bedspread. "He's up to something, Sierik. Something besides all his usual scheming, I mean." She almost continued, but then stopped herself. She was afraid to admit it aloud, but the night before, as Erengaar was about to leave the gardens, she had seen something in his expression, something lurking beneath his false bravado and swaggering tone.

  If she didn't know better, she would have thought her half-brother was as terrified as she was. And the more she thought about it the more Vatra convinced herself that it had something to do with his plans for her. He needed her to serve as his spy, but at the same time he seemed almost terrified to say anything more, and that was what had been bothering her ever since.

  "Vatra?"

  "Hhhmm? Oh sorry. Just...thinking."

  "Come back here." Sierik patted the empty space on the bed beside him. "Would you like me to draw you a bath? Perhaps even invite Druskk to join us? I know he's your favorite."

  Vatra laughed in spite of herself and nodded. "He's your favorite too, you just won't admit it. How long did you say we have until your Lyka is finished?"

  "Another hour at least. But she won't mind if I'm a little late tonight."

  "Good. Go start the water, and I'll be in shortly."

  It was very late when the manservant was finally allowed to leave, and Sierik never returned to his own bed that night. For the first night since the murder of Doctor Rimshar, Vatra slept soundly and securely, her cousin's nakedness intertwined with her own, and she dreamed pleasant dreams.

  Chapter 18

  ____________________

  ( 1 )

  CHIEF MINISTER ARIUS RONND PRESSED the door chime outside Chancellor Kroth's private office, and then nodded politely to the pair of armed guards as he waited for the call to enter. When the doors parted, Kroth was dictating the last of his daily notes to Noesh, and the aid bowed to both the chancellor and the chief minister before he left the office. Kroth stood and motioned to one of the chairs in front of his desk.

  "Would you like a glass of wine?"

  "Please."

  Kroth poured two tumblers, handed one to Ronnd, and then settled behind his desk once more. The two men sipped in silence for a few moments, both of them relieved to be finished with another busy day. Beyond the pair of circular windows that dominated the wall behind Kroth's desk, the city of Lar'A'Tol lay brightly lit beneath a blanket of stars.

  "So," Kroth said at last, "I assume because you're seeing me at this late hour that you have some news for me?" As he spoke, the chancellor tapped a command into his computer terminal to check the status of the invisible privacy screens surrounding his office. They were intact and fully operational.

  Ronnd nodded. "I received a communiqué on a private channel just a few hours ago. The Drigald have accepted our offer. Vi'Sar successfully contacted Galoret Ain in the Nevala Sector, and, apparently, it didn't take much to convince the rebel leader to join our cause."

  "Good. What's the next step?"

  "A lot of waiting. It's going to take some time for both Vi'Sar and Ain to communicate to their respective cells the new agenda. Because of the covert channels that must be used, as well as the sheer number of insurgents under their comman
d, getting everyone on board and synchronized with this plan is going to take several weeks at least."

  "And, in the meantime, my ambassadors will begin the next round of talks with the Federation."

  "Yes. Speaking of which, have you talked to Morryn yet?"

  Kroth nodded as he sipped his ale. "I've instructed him on which terms are non-negotiable, and the ones we are willing to concede to. I think there is enough in the former category to keep both sides busy for at least a standard year."

  "The Craib sector?"

  Kroth smiled thinly. "Yes. That is one term that I have instructed Morryn to give no ground on. It's past time we regained that sector, and I would have demanded it as part of the new treaty even if the quorum had not embarked on their new plan."

  "The Federation is not going to give it up easily," Ronnd agreed. "That negotiation alone should take at least six standard months."

  "Have you heard anything new regarding the Ageyer bombings?" Kroth stood to refill his drink.

  "No. None of the usual terrorist groups are taking responsibility for it, but that doesn't surprise me. I expect that one or more groups will step forward in the next day or so."

  "Or perhaps this is the first act of a new faction. Our authorities there seem to think that these -" he glanced at a readout on his terminal screen "-'Ijaka' are responsible."

  Ronnd shifted in his seat and frowned. "Yes, I've read that same report. I've already got my analysts working on it, but I don’t think the Ijaka are responsible for these bombings. They are a new faction, yes, but they're also more passive and not as radical as some of the others. The initial reports from my operatives on the Kauramide homeworld don't think that the Ijaka have anything to do with these bombings."

  "Arius, relax. I'm not accusing you of not doing your job. I was simply curious."

  "I know. It's just..." He scowled again, sipping his ale.

  "What?" Kroth returned to his seat and leaned back, crossing his arms over his broad chest.

  "It's one thing to bomb a government building or a military annex, but this latest incident..." Arius shook his head, sipping the last of drink. "What's the point of decimating a civilian sector? There's no message in it, and the fact that no one has stepped forward to claim responsibility..." He stared into his empty glass, lost in thought. After a few moments, he looked up and shook his head again. "It doesn't make sense."

  Maliston nodded. "Sometimes these things never do. We'll just have to be vigilant and use extra precaution." He set his tumbler on the desk and reached out to shut off his terminal. "Maybe the Kauramide aren't going to be as easily appeased by this new plan as we thought. Stronger measures may need to be taken in the next few days."

  Arius stood and set his glass beside the chancellor's. "Goodnight, Maliston."

  "Goodnight."

  ( 2 )

  The sun was low in the east, bathing the horizon in blood, when Kralin returned home. As he stepped into the front hall he noticed there was no light coming from the kitchen. The stove was off, the counter clear of dishes.

  "Eema?"

  There was no response. The other rooms on the first floor were as dark as the kitchen, and Kralin quickly ascended the stairs, worry rapidly turning into dread. His mother's door was ajar, and as he burst into the room the first thing he noticed was the lack of sound. His mother was still in bed, her eyes closed, her hands folded over breast.

  But there was no gentle thrum/hiss from the respirator, the bio-monitor was switched off, and the IVs were no longer attached to her left arm.

  Eema glanced over her shoulder as Kralin entered, and she stepped away from the bed in a show of deference. "I'm so sorry, Kralin," she murmured. "Your mother suffered cardiac arrest a few minutes ago. Doctor Zokem will be here soon."

  "My father?"

  "He's still in the fields. I haven't yet had a chance to call him. Or the shil'ra."

  "Go. I'll stay with her."

  Eema nodded and left. Kralin moved the chair closer to the bed and sat, watching his mother's face, not quite believing that she was finally gone. He was overwhelmed with the same sense of un-reality that he had last felt twenty years ago when he had dug the remains of Jran and his family from the scorched earth; as if a bubble had suddenly formed around this house and time within had come to a sudden halt.

  She looked peaceful, as if she was only asleep, and a piece of a stanza from some long-forgotten poem drifted through Kralin's mind just then. I shall walk among the gravestones, passing through the dreams of the dead. Then I shall move beyond the veil, and I shall walk no more.

  He didn't hear the footsteps, and the hand on his shoulder startled him so badly that Kralin nearly cried out. He stood to surrender the chair to his father, but instead of leaving him alone with Jharis, Kralin walked to the other side of the bed. The ritual of Eroth'Taan required the family of the deceased to sit watch until the shil'ra arrived to bless the passing of the soul. The Sisters of Dra'Shai would arrive soon thereafter to take the body to prepare it for burial.

  Eema appeared with a second chair and Kralin thanked her. She bowed to Farak and murmured a condolence. He only nodded, never taking his gaze from his wife, and Eema left them alone once more. Again, Kralin marveled at the lack of sound. Not even the occasional call of a nighthawk came through the open window upon the evening breeze. It was now dark outside, and not even the wind stirred the trees in the garden or the wild grasses of the empty fields beyond the vineyards.

  It was as though he and his father were the only survivors in this part of the world.

  After another few minutes Shil'Ra Forn slipped quietly into the room, and only then did Farak finally stir, rising as soon as he saw who it was. The shil'ra gave his condolences to both father and son, and Farak moved aside so Forn could stand over Jharis' still form and perform the final blessing. The priest opened his worn copy of The Holy Covenant, and as he quoted the verses of scripture, Kralin bowed his head and closed his eyes in an effort to hold back his tears.

  ( 3 )

  The Shil'Ra remained for some time after the final blessing, talking quietly with Farak downstairs in the parlor, along with Doctor Zokem. The Sisters of Dra'Shai, five of them altogether, were reverently and carefully wrapping the body of Kralin's mother. All of it was ritual and custom, passed down from one generation to the next, since the time of the writing of The Holy Covenant, and Kralin watched from the hall outside Jharis' door. The Sisters were clad in robes of simple gray, the same color as the ceremonial cloth that now covered his mother, and only their eyes were visible, their heads and faces covered with a habit and veil.

  When the preparations were finished, the five Sisters lifted the body and carried it through the transfield to the temple on the other side. Kralin shut his mother's door and descended the stairs. As he passed the entrance to the parlor, his father glanced up, meeting Kralin's gaze for a moment. But Kralin looked away and continued walking out the front door.

  ( 4 )

  It was early enough in the evening that Ardmos wasn't too crowded, and Kralin claimed a table in the back, close to the bar.

  "Major Saveck, right? You were in here with Matok the other night, singing the war songs?"

  Kralin glanced up and nodded.

  The heavyset waitress smiled. "You want the usual?"

  "No. Do you have any turas?"

  She raised her eyebrows. "I'm not sure. It's not something we get a lot of demand for. I'll go check."

  "I'll have the whole bottle if you've got it. Thank you." He looked in the direction of the door just in time to see Matok enter, and Kralin waved to him.

  "You here by yourself?"

  "Yes. You?"

  Matok turned a chair around and straddled his thick frame on it. "Farak called Bratin a few minutes ago. He said you had already left the house."

  The waitress returned. "You're in luck tonight, major." She set down a tall bottle and a cold stein, and then turned to Matok. "What can I get for you?"

  "Another stei
n. And two shots of kelq."

  "Sure. Be right back."

  Kralin uncorked the bottle and filled his pitcher halfway. The first swallow was like fire in his throat, and he suffered a coughing fit that made Matok chuckle.

  "Been awhile since you've had the real stuff, huh?"

  "Yes," Kralin croaked. "Yes, it has." He took another swallow, a shorter one this time, as the waitress returned with another stein and the two shots.

  Matok raised his glass. "To Jharis."

  Kralin did likewise. "To both our mothers."

  They drank. Matok poured himself some of the turas, and the men commiserated in comfortable silence for a few minutes. The music wasn't too loud, the conversation from the other patrons a pleasant, background buzz, and Kralin was already starting to feel the effect of the liquor. He stared into his drink, thinking, and then looked up at Matok.

  "What happens now? Is there any way that we can save the house and the land that it's built on?"

  "Sure. He just has to pay off the second kril-tor."

  "But does he have enough to do that?"

  "I don't know. I haven't talked to Silbin for a couple months now, so I'm not sure where the financial situation currently stands. I do know there's been more than one offer made to buy the vineyards, but I'm not sure how recently they were made. Most of them may not still be on the table."

  Kralin nodded. The stereo switched to a new song, and the noise level of conversation increased as new customers flooded in. A group of Kauramide made their way to an empty table in the same area as the one where Kralin and Matok were sitting.

  Kralin took another long swallow of the turas, and this time there was very little burn as it went down. He refilled his stein and motioned to the waitress as she passed by. "Two more shots of kelq." He turned to Matok and smiled. "Have you been watching the Klara'Sihn tournaments?"

  "What?"