The Consort (Tellaran Series)

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The Consort (Tellaran Series) Page 22

by Ariel MacArran


  Let’s hope they don’t do anything so stupid.

  “Mezera,” he began evenly, “you have five warships patrolling near Az-kanzar. That’s an insane number of ships to protect one outlying colony near the border.”

  “Not for one so close to the Sword!”

  “But the Badla—the Sword—offers a natural buffer between our space and Tellaran territory and that area is one of the densest. Believe me, no Tellaran ship is going to be able to navigate through ionic eddies like those.”

  The war leader and her assistants, even the warriors, regarded him with suspicion but there was some doubt in their expressions as well. He could guess what they were thinking.

  Are you a Tellaran officer or our warlord?

  “Well, let me ask you this,” he said. “Could any Az-kye ship make it through?”

  “No,” she said shortly.

  “Then it’s safe to assume the Tellarans can’t either. I’m not saying we should leave Az-kanzar undefended. But if we redeploy the ships this way,” he said, changing the display, “we will have much better coverage and we’ll be able to provide any emergency assistance the outlying colonies require. If we’d had this configuration before we might have had ships close enough to assist Princess Saria’s ship in time.” He held her gaze. “See to it.”

  Her dark eyes flashed. This was the moment. If Mezera refused or demurred then he was going to have to come down hard. He really hoped she wouldn’t force his hand.

  “Yes,” she said finally, “Warlord.”

  He gave a short nod then directed his attention to the men present. Behind their inscrutable gazes he could see anxiety. Clearly they were wondering why the new warlord had summoned them.

  “Warriors,” he said to them. “I have reviewed the service each of you has provided to the Empire. I have examined the commands you have held and investigated reports of your personal honor.”

  Kyndan knew enough about Az-kye body language to understand that the men were puzzled and tense but none shifted or questioned him.

  “And your service has been exemplary. I have decided to divide Az-kye territory into ten military divisions,” he said, changing the display to show the new military configuration. “Every division will have its own commander who will report directly to me. I have selected you ten to be Division Commanders.”

  There was the slightest ripple of shocked pride among them.

  “It will require some reshuffling of personnel and ships but I’m confident I can rely on you. A ceremony will take place to officially name you to your new positions. At this ceremony, attended by the regent and the court, I will present each commander a sash of honor to show his new status. You,” he said, “will be my most trusted officers. You will be my sword arm.”

  They were standing a bit straighter and he could tell they really liked that last bit. When he dismissed them, he signaled to Mezera that he wished her to remain behind for a private word.

  “Do you have those records I asked for?” he asked. “From Saria’s ship?”

  “I shall have them to you by midday, Warlord,” she said stiffly.

  “I appreciate that you didn’t make this meeting difficult.”

  She snorted. “As if I would shame myself by falling into a public power struggle. No, clearly the regent has confidence in your abilities to lead us all. And Mother will be pleased at least,” Mezera grumbled. “She much disapproved of my heading the war counsel.”

  He frowned. “Who’s your mother?”

  She looked at him as if he was an idiot, and he very much felt like one right then.

  “Her Eminence, High Priestess of Lashima.”

  He blinked. “High Priestess Celara is your mother? I didn’t realize.”

  “It is common knowledge,” she said shortly, beginning to gather her things.

  High Priestess of the Goddess of Love and Compassion whose daughter led the military? Yeah, I bet that made for some awkwardness at the clan feasts.

  “You’ve done an excellent job as war leader,” he said. “My taking the position of warlord is not reflective of your work.”

  “How kind.” She shot him a glare. “You might have said that in front of the others.”

  “I will say it, as will the regent, and the empress—if she’s well enough to attend—at that same ceremony when the Division Commanders will be named. Your work will also be honored.”

  Her gaze met his, surprised. “I see.”

  “You deserve it.” After a moment he gave a half-smile. “I guess you weren’t about to argue that.”

  Mezera lifted an eyebrow. “Hardly.” She finished gathering her things and gave him a nod. “You may expect those records shortly, Consort.”

  “It actually went better than I expected,” Kyndan said as he relayed the events of the meeting to Alari later that evening. “It wouldn’t hurt to give Mezera some really impressive gift at the ceremony though, to smooth things over.”

  Alari took a sip of her tea. “I am pleased it went well.”

  His brow creased. “What’s the matter? Something’s wrong, I can tell.”

  With a wave she sent their attendants away, her face solemn and pale in the fading light of day.

  “Kyndan,” she said softly. “You banished the Az’quen from the palace.”

  His nostrils flared. “Damned right I did.”

  “What was their transgression?”

  “Their transgression?” he demanded. “How about almost a year of starving me? Of no medical care and abuse? How about a couple wicked beatings, Alari? Any of those good enough to yank back their invitation to the midsummer festival party?”

  She looked at him with her deep, dark eyes. “How did they offend the Imperial Consort?”

  “So I’m just supposed to forget what happened? What they did to me? Pretend it didn’t fracking happen?”

  “My mate,” she said softly. “Do you ask that they see only the warlord to whom they must bow when they look on you, you too must see only those who have rendered you the regard due the Imperial Consort.”

  His lip curled. “So if I want them to pretend I’m not Tellaran—”

  “You are not Tellaran,” she broke in, distressed. “You are Imperial Consort.”

  “So they pretend I wasn’t their slave and I pretend I wasn’t their slave?”

  “Yes.”

  “They beat me, Alari!” His voice rose. “They treated their animals better! Don’t you even care?”

  “Think you I do not care that you were hurt?” she asked hoarsely. “Think you I do not love you, Kyndan, above all? I would do anything for you, give anything for you.”

  “Then make what I suffered mean something. End the practice of the clanless!”

  Her mouth parted and he sat beside her on the chaise and took her hands in his.

  “You know it’s cruel, Alari, you know it’s wrong! It almost happened to you. It happened to me and what’s being done to these people is criminal. It has to stop—we can stop it. You can stop it. You’re Regent. All you have to do is sign an Imperial edict and it’s done.”

  He noticed then how her lips had gone white. He’d thought she was listening in tacit agreement but in truth he realized, he’d frightened her into silence.

  “Alari?”

  “Kyndan,” she whispered. “Did I such, we would not survive a day.”

  He stared. “These people obey you in everything. The power you have is immense.”

  She shook her head. “I am the defiant Imperial daughter who took a Tellaran as mate and made him warlord. Why think you my mother made me regent, not empress? She could have abdicated the throne, become dowager empress, but she did not. I am her equal but she retains the power to counter all decisions I make.”

  “So we don’t have her confidence after all,” he said flatly. “That means we don’t really have anyone’s confidence.”

  “We will. In time. When we have shown we honor tradition. When they have become accustomed to our rule. But to defy all tr
adition so, to cast aside the way of things since the beginning of the clans . . .!”

  He wet his lips. “But they would be free—”

  “Do I proclaim this, take the ability of a clan leader to mete out justice from within her clan, I will take power that has belonged to the Ti’antahs since the beginning of the Empire. How will the Ti’antah rule her clan does she not have the power to punish?” Alari asked. “Think you they will simply allow me to seize their authority from them without protest? Think you they will wait idly by, content to see what other power I will take from them next?”

  He had a sudden sick feeling, remembering Empress Yi’saya thrown to the rocks by her own courtiers. “No. No, they wouldn’t.”

  “And what of the clanless you would free? Think you they could simply go home and be accepted back?”

  He swallowed.

  “And what would you have us do, my mate, with those who have acted against the Az-kye? The criminals, the warriors who have acted with dishonor?”

  “The Tellarans have penal colonies. Prisons where criminals are punished—” He slumped back into the plush cushions of the chaise. Just the infrastructure that would be needed to make that kind of transition was massive and the cultural repercussions . . . “I didn’t think this out.”

  “I would give you anything within my power, Kyndan.” Her dark eyes were pained. “But do I do this, I would tear the Empire apart. And we would not survive it.”

  He passed his hand over his face. “I understand,” he said, then he frowned. “With Saria gone . . . If they turned against you, who would rule?”

  Her dark eyes were haunted. “The strongest would maneuver to seize the throne by manipulation and bloodshed. Each would offer power and influence to their supporters, offer her daughters as mates to their followers’ sons and then seek to destroy competing clans to create a new dynasty.”

  Mentally he sifted through their many enemies. “Alari, if you had to pick the one who’s most likely to succeed to take the throne, who would it be?”

  She hesitated. “Kinara of the Az’anti.”

  He caught his breath. “You think Kinna would—?”

  “She sits on the Council for Trade. She is reputed to be a Cy’atta, a Stardancer, favored by Lashima. Her star has risen high and quickly. She is lucky, she is beloved. She carries an heiress to her clan even now and her mate is much respected.” Alari glanced around, although they were alone in their quarters and she pitched her voice very low. Alari put her hand on his chest. “I have told no one, not even Saria. Kyndan,” she whispered, “do I tell you, you must never speak of it.”

  Frowning, he gave a nod.

  “Your sister’s popularity is dangerous. It is why my mother sought to destroy her.”

  “Sought to—?” He shook his head. “Alari, what are you talking about? The empress heaped honors on Kinara. Kinna said she couldn’t praise her enough.”

  “The empress did not choose your sister to lead her armada against the Tellarans because she wished her to succeed. My mother intended that she be destroyed.”

  “But that’s crazy.” Kyndan’s frown deepened. “Tellarans would have conquered Az-kye space.”

  Alari shook her head quickly. “The empress had a second force, to be commanded by Jazan, behind your sister’s. If your sister failed, she would either be killed in battle or so dishonored by failure that my mother could justify destroying her.”

  Kyndan’s eyes widened.

  Alari wet her lips. “Your sister is a threat to my clan’s rule, to mine. The empress did not expect her to survive that conflict. She was taken unawares when she did.”

  Kyndan felt his nostrils flare. “Your mother tried to murder my sister?”

  “Even she cannot risk to be thought the murderer of a Cy’atta. But if your sister were to be dishonored or killed in battle, if by her misfortune she were proved not a favorite of Lashima—”

  “Then she’s fair game.”

  “Your sister does not understand the power she has gained, the renown she has. Were she to defy my rule—as a Stardancer, a favorite of the goddess—she may garner enough support to take the throne.”

  “She’s my sister,” he said sharply. “We’re family. Kinna would never do anything like that!”

  Alari regarded him silently.

  “She wouldn’t!” he insisted, his face heating. “If anything she’d come to our defense!”

  Alari wet her lips. “It is possible my mother believes that as well. The empress must know too that Kinara regards you still as her brother. If the Lady of the Az’anti will not act against me because you are my mate then she is eliminated as a threat.”

  He stopped short. “That’s why I’m still breathing, right? Why she hasn’t just had me dragged off and killed?” he asked angrily. “If the empress gets rid of me you’d get an Az-kye mate but then Kinara would seek revenge and become a real danger to you. It’s too risky unless Azara takes me and Kinna out at the same time but with that Stardancer thing she’s not confident she can.”

  Alari dropped her gaze. “It is possible.”

  He gave a short humorless laugh. “There’re godsdamned daggers at our throats and I’m here asking you to turn the Empire upside down by outlawing clanlessness.”

  “My mate.” She took his hand tenderly. “To bring you happiness I would do anything, but—”

  “I understand.” He sighed, pulling her into his embrace. “I really do. I didn’t really stop and think about how much chaos it would cause. I want it so I just assumed everyone would want it. It’s just not that fracking simple, is it?”

  “No,” she said quietly and closed her eyes, her cheek resting against his shoulder. “It is not.”

  Kyndan left Alari sleeping and pulled on a robe, wrapping it around himself as he padded through their empty quarters. As soon as he opened the door Utar straightened. No matter how early he rose he found the former warrior awaiting him in the hall. He’d good-naturedly accused the man of sleeping out here though Utar denied it.

  Alari’s attendants took a step forward and he waved them back.

  “No,” he murmured. “Let her sleep a while longer.”

  It was the second night in a row she’d been woken by a terrifying nightmare. Her screams brought the attendants running and he held her as she sobbed of trying to reach Saria and failing only to watch her sister be pulled into open space.

  “Caf?” the former warrior asked quietly.

  “Please,” Kyndan returned. “I’ll meet you downstairs.”

  He eased the door shut and went down the hall to his dressing room. Alari had her own; her wardrobe as regent would take up the house on Rusco where he’d grown up. He made a habit of bathing after his morning workout but he had to dress in warrior black to get from their quarters to the practice arena. He sat down on the bench and yawned again, trying to rub out the exhaustion from his eyes.

  Alari was thinner now, her lovely dark eyes shadowed with fatigue, and he was really starting to worry. She worked constantly and rebuffed any suggestion that she rest or unwind or play, as if an hour’s inattention to the Empire’s running would have a mob pushing their way into their quarters, ready to throw them from the top of the falls. Only in lovemaking and for a little while afterwards, when she lay cradled in his arms, did she relax at all.

  Maybe when I’ve finished taking the reins from Mezera she’ll start to feel safe again. Once I’m truly warlord she’ll know I can protect her.

  Kyndan leaned down to fasten his boots, hoping the caf would be ready when he got there. He could sure use it.

  A light’s flash caught his eye. Up on the shelf of his dressing room, placed neatly next to his dress uniform, the indicator on his comm unit flashed again.

  Kyndan frowned. No one should be trying to reach him on that thing.

  He stood and in one smooth movement grabbed the unit and thumbed the control. “Maere.”

  “Kyndan.” His father sounded relieved, the transmission crackling with
static. “I’ve been hailing you for twenty hours!”

  “What’s going on?” Kyndan asked. “Where are you? I’m barely getting you.”

  “I’m just at the edge of the Badlands. I’ve boosted the signal as best as I can.”

  Kyndan’s frown deepened. There was still a Tellaran ship in orbit. “Why didn’t you contact me through the Dauntless relays?”

  “I couldn’t risk anyone to intercepting this. Look, I don’t have much time, Kyn. A civilian ship entered Az-kye space two days ago.”

  “What? What the hell were they doing here?”

  “Private charter. Apparently they took it for granted that the peace treaty would be signed and decided to cross the border.”

  Kyndan passed his hand over his face. “Did they exchange fire?”

  “No, thank the gods. They managed to get out a distress signal before they were captured.”

  Kyndan went still and felt a knot form in his stomach. “Father, why are you contacting me?”

  “Kyndan, they’ve been captured by the Az-kye! You know what that means.”

  He knew very well what that meant.

  Kyndan shut his eyes. “You shouldn’t have contacted me. There’s nothing I can do.”

  “Kyndan, they’re civilians!” Even light years away, even through the static, he could hear the shock and horror in his father’s voice. “Most of them are just university kids! You can help them. Godsdamn it, you have to help them.”

  “There’s nothing I can do!” Kyndan hissed.

  “Listen, Kyn, I can’t send the Dauntless and I can’t go in after them. We’d be violating the non-aggression agreement. You’re the only one who can help these people.”

  He’d just asserted his authority as warlord. What kind of reaction would he get if he turned around and used it to help Tellarans?

  “These people are harmless,” Ryndar continued. “An archeologist and eight of her students plus a civilian transport crew stupid enough to take the job.”

  His father couldn’t see him, at this distance the transmission was audio only, but he shook his head. “I’m sorry. I really am. Have the Tellaran Council make an appeal to the Empire. Send it through official channels.”

 

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