“The memories will fade, child.” Celara patted her hand. “You will forget.”
Alari turned her face toward the window.
“As long as I can see the sky,” Alari whispered hoarsely, thinking how today it was just the shade of his eyes when he made one of his jokes, “I will never forget.”
They brought her food that seemed tasteless and iced juices that proved bitter on her tongue. Her maids helped her to the bath, exchanging glances as Alari sat in the tub, listlessly letting her tears fall into the water.
It was late afternoon when they coaxed her from the bath.
“No,” she said when she saw the black dressing gown her maid was carrying. The attendants were startled. It was the first time she had spoken in hours. “Bring me the white.”
“Your Majesty,” Tilanna began nervously. “No period of mourning has been declared.”
“Do not tell me whether or not I may mourn,” Alari said brittlely. “Bring me the white!”
The maids blinked at her harsh tone but they obeyed. Wrapped in a dressing gown of pure white Alari sat with a cup of spiced tea untouched on the low table before her, staring sightlessly over the empress’ city.
He had come for her when she was in disgrace, a cast-off princess with no hope to inherit. He had made her laugh, taught her to dance, and brought her to the heights of sexual pleasure with no chance that she should ever make him consort, to give him such immense power.
But she had thought he loved her then.
Was it only that I became regent? Was the opportunity to rule through me simply too tempting?
There was a ripple of consternation in the next room then Tilanna hurried out.
“Your Majesty, your advisors—it is urgent.”
Alari shut her eyes. Could they not even for the space of an evening, when it hurt even to draw breath, leave her in peace?
She looked to her maid to order them sent away when Mezera and Sechon hurried in.
They were both pale, their eyes wide with alarm.
“What is it?” Alari asked, frowning. “What do you here?”
“Your Majesty,” Mezera began, and Alari saw that she was trembling. “Our outposts, all of them, from Az-kanzar to Az-litha, have gone dark.”
Alari glanced between them. “What do you mean ‘gone dark’?”
“We cannot raise them,” Sechon said. “We cannot raise any forces beyond the home system.”
Alari shook her head a little. “A communications problem?”
“There was one last sensor relay before the station on the third moon went dark.” Mezera’s lips were white. “The relay showed Tellaran ships—an entire Armada closing on the Imperial homeworld.”
“It is not possible,” Alari managed. “It is not. How could they possibly broach our defenses so completely?”
But she knew.
Alari’s horrified gaze went to the sky. The sun had nearly set; the stars were just now beginning to appear as the last of the light faded from Az-kye’s sky.
“Kyndan . . .”
Dressed in Imperial black, attended by her advisors, Her Majesty, Regent of the Az-kye Alari, sat on the throne, her hands folded serenely around her jaha fan, awaiting the conquerors of her empire.
Communications were out. The Tellarans’ use of the override codes rendered the Empire helpless and even the most powerful of Az-kye warships drifted away like a child’s discarded toy from the invaders’ ships. The codes entrusted to the Imperial Consort had been changed upon his disgrace but he had clearly obtained the new ones. The Tellarans took the homeworld and the empress’ city with ease; there had been virtually no resistance possible.
And Az-kye swords were no match for Tellaran blasters.
Warriors were hit in groups with wide-beams; some fell before they had even drawn their blades. With no defenses left and the invaders closing in, there was no escape.
There was nothing to do now but wait.
Alari would be the last Az-kye ruler but she would not shame those who sat upon this throne before her by hiding.
The empress too waited here. She had been carried in and sat propped up with pillows, her face ashen. Her eyes were deeply shadowed but there was pride still in the tilt of her chin.
A fearful murmur ran through the courtiers as the sound of blaster fire came from outside.
“Have they broken through the Gate of the Blessed?” Alari asked calmly.
“They have, Your Majesty,” the majordomo reported, her voice trembling.
Alari concentrated on keeping her breath so slow and steady that even the jaha feathers on her fan did not stir.
“The warriors in the courtyard have fallen, Imperial Regent,” Jelara cried from the window.
She considered ordering her warriors to cease any resistance at all but now, in the final moments of the Empire’s twilight, Alari could not deny them honorable deaths.
They would be the fortunate ones.
Her guards, assembled around the dais, tensed at the sound of blaster fire in the hall. As one, their swords cleared the scabbards at their backs to defend her as the doors to the throne room burst open.
Alari’s face twitched to watch her guards, honorable warriors all, fall to Tellaran blasters before they had taken a single step.
He led them, these invaders of her home, these conquerors of her people, but then again, she knew he would.
Kyndan wore the dark grey combat uniform of a Tellaran commander and his hair had been cut back to the short length favored by Tellaran warriors. Two dozen Tellarans, all armed with pulse rifles held at the ready, came into the throne room with him.
Kyndan’s own hand blaster was leveled at the courtiers but his glance first snapped to her and a look of pleased satisfaction crossed his face.
“Secure the room!”
At his sharp order the Tellarans fanned out, moving the courtiers back, keeping their weapons trained on the prisoners.
Apparently convinced his men would meet no further resistance here, Kyndan raised his weapon to the ready position. Stepping over her fallen guard he crossed to the bottom of the dais to look up at her.
“Gods, I can’t tell you how happy I am to see you, Alari,” he said, a smile curving his mouth. “But I am going to have to ask you to get down off the throne.”
“I do not take orders from you, Tellaran,” she said coldly. “If you would have me from this throne you will have to tear me from it.”
His smile widened. “I bet you five—no, make it ten creds—I’ll have you off that thing in a couple minutes.”
He holstered his blaster and, to Alari’s surprise and alarm, approached the empress.
“I’m glad to see you, Your Majesty,” he said.
“Alive, you mean.” The empress’ gaze narrowed. “So that I may witness our defeat at your hands, Tellaran?”
He smirked. “That’s one reason, yeah.”
Two Tellarans came to the door and Kyndan jerked his chin at them. “Well?”
“The palace is secure, Sir.”
“Go make sure it stays that way.”
“Yes, Sir!”
“This him?” another Tellaran asked, his hand clasping Utar’s upper arm as he brought the former warrior in. “He’s the only one I’ve seen in white.”
Kyndan gave a nod. “That’s him. How’re you, Utar? Did they treat you okay while I was gone?”
The former warrior looked at him with horrified eyes as the Tellaran released his arm. “You—you have done such, Con—Kyndan Maere?” he asked, taking in the warriors lying at Kyndan’s feet.
“Oh,” Kyndan said. “Right. Let’s get these guys out of here. Wouldn’t want them to wake up and try to kill me. In fact,” he said with a wave at the courtiers, “while you’re at it, clear them out of here too. Not them,” he said to the Tellarans with a nod toward where Mezera, Sechon, and the High Priestess of Lashima stood at the sides of the dais. “They stay here.”
“Wake up?” Alari blurted. “You have not killed them?”
“I haven’t killed anyone,” Kyndan said, looking a little offended. “I knocked out the sensor grids and transmitted the emergency shutdown codes. Your ships are stalled but the crews are unharmed. The hand weapons my people are using are set on stun.”
To her astonishment the guards’ chests still rose and fell.
“Why—” Alari began as the Tellarans started to drag her guards out. “Why have you not?”
“I didn’t come here to hurt you, Alari,” he said seriously. “I came here to save you.”
“Save me?” Her brow creased. “Save me from what?”
“Your Eminence,” Kyndan said genially to the High Priestess of Lashima. “It’s nice to see you again. And,” he continued as the last of the courtiers and Tellarans left, “I see the war leader is here, doing her usual excellent work.”
Mezera’s face flushed. “How were you able to so easily breach our defenses?”
“I had the shutdown codes,” he reminded.
“I ordered them changed,” the war leader insisted. “I am sure they were.”
“Yeah, but I know the algorithms that you use to generate your security codes. With that information breaking the new codes was easy. Elder,” he said to Sechon, inclining his head, “I trust you’re well? You know,” he added, putting his hands on his hips, and nodding round at them all, “I can’t begin to tell you how very happy I am to be back at the palace again.”
“Save me from what?” Alari repeated sharply. “Tellaran! I have addressed you!”
“Sorry, ’fraid you’ll have to forgive me my good mood.” Kyndan threw her a smug look as he crossed the room to the throne room door. “I’m about to win myself ten creds. Although it has been my great pleasure,” he said as she clasped his hand and entered the room, “to escort Princess Saria home.”
“Saria?” Alari breathed.
She shook her head a little but it was Saria smiling as Kyndan led her into the room. In the months since her disappearance, she had become a bit thinner, her eyes a touch sadder and more mature, but it was absolutely, unmistakably, her sister.
Alari rose, dimly aware of the others in the throne room who made their own exclamations of amazement, of her mother’s cry. Alari dropped the ancient fan, careless that it clattered to the floor, and lifted the skirts of her heavy court gown to race down the dais steps.
“Saria!” she cried, running across the throne room to throw her arms around her sister.
“Alari,” Saria said, hugging her back.
“I cannot believe it! I cannot!” Alari drew back to look at her, her hands on either side of Saria’s face. “It is you!” She shook her head, laughing a little even as her vision blurred with tears. “It is you! But—how? Where have you been?”
Saria smiled sadly. “Tellaran space. The area they call the Badlands.”
“You have been the Tellarans’ prisoner all this time?” Alari demanded, with a glare at Kyndan.
He held up his hands. “Oh, now hold on! Tellarans rescued her! That Tellaran ship in the recording really was there. Answering the distress call.”
“Je—” A shadow crossed Saria’s face. “The captain of that vessel rescued me.”
“But, why did you not come home? Why did you not contact us?”
Saria hesitated. “I longed to. But to do so would have been . . . difficult.”
“The Badland territories aren’t exactly home to the most upstanding of Tellaran citizens.” Kyndan shifted his weight. “In fact, one of them even nailed me with a blaster bolt when I went to get Saria.”
Before Alari could stop herself her glance went over him worriedly. He caught her look and she flushed.
The empress reached her hand toward her daughters. Saria’s smile turned toward Azara then her face blanched.
“Mother—! Your Majesty is ill?” Saria cried, hurrying to her to clasp her hand. “Where are the healers? They must be brought immediately!”
The war leader caught her eye and shook her head gravely.
“There’s something I have to do now and I’m sorry,” Kyndan said, throwing Alari a troubled look. “I really am. But it’s all part of the same puzzle.”
“Puzzle?” Alari’s brow creased. “What do you mean ‘puzzle’?”
“Your Majesty,” he said, addressing the empress again. “I owe you an apology. I was pretty damned rude to you but I was working under a false belief that made me—well, I sure didn’t like you much.” His face was grim. “I thought you’d sanctioned Jazan’s assaults on Alari but that’s not what happened at all.”
The empress reared up and Saria’s shocked eyes met Alari’s.
“Assaults—?” Some color came back to Empress Azara’s sunken cheeks and her nostrils flared. “Jazan never—”
Feeling the eyes of the others in the room too Alari’s face heated and she dropped her gaze.
“Your Majesty?” The elder asked, horrified. “Is it true?”
“But . . . Jazan was an Az-kye warrior,” the war leader exclaimed. “To do such a thing would cost him all honor, shame his clan beyond redemption.”
Alari lifted pained eyes to him. How could he humiliate her further like this? To make so public what she’d suffered?
“I’m sorry,” he said again. “But believe me, there’s no other way to trace it all back.”
“Alari,” Saria murmured. “Oh, Sister! That is why you so feared him.”
“Is it true?” the empress demanded. “Did Jazan—?”
“You know it so,” Alari broke in sharply. “I sought an audience with Your Majesty the next morning. I begged you to release me from my betrothal the first time it happened.”
“Yes! But you did never say—Dear gods,” the empress cried. “Alari, was that why?”
Even now it hurt, even now the feeling of betrayal burned in her chest. “You told me as heiress there were things I must endure.”
Azara shook her head. “I did not mean—I thought only that you were anxious of being mated, of the responsibilities to come. Jazan showed only the finest of manners to me. Truly I did not know . . .” The empress’ expression collapsed and Alari saw the sheen of tears in her mother’s eyes. “I should have known. It is my place to know. Oh, my sweet girl, I am so sorry. I am sorry I did not understand. That I did not hear what you were trying to tell me.”
Alari searched her mother’s eyes and the genuine sorrow and guilt she saw there healed some of that hurt.
“I don’t think Jazan actually wanted to force Alari,” Kyndan said. “He was told to.”
“Told to?” High Priestess Celara exclaimed.
“Who would tell him to act with such dishonor?” the empress asked, outraged. “And why would he obey?”
“You know, my sister scolded me when I showed up at her clanhouse with Alari because the Az-kye follow strict social rules. They obey their empress. They have to obey the clan leader. They’re sworn to obey all their social superiors. Isn’t that right?”
Alari’s brow furrowed. “The clan leader of the Az’rayah ordered her son to rape me?”
“No. That was orchestrated by the one planning our destruction all along. The one ready to murder everyone in the way to seize the throne. Our enemy from the very beginning,” he said.
Kyndan moved protectively to Alari’s side and met the dark eyes of the usurper. “You.”
The elder blinked. “Commander, how can you even think—”
“Despite what convention says about the clans, Sechon,” Kyndan interrupted, “family bonds are very strong among the Az-kye and Jazan was your son’s son.”
“Well, yes, I told you so myself,” Sechon acknowledged, bewildered. “And it is hardly a secret!”
“No, but your orders to him were.” Kyndan’s face went hard. “You knew Alari wanted to end the betrothal with Jazan. She told me she’d confided her doubts to High Priestess Celara and to one of her mother’s advisors—you. Jazan wanted the warlord’s power more than anything and this opportunity was too good to pass up, for b
oth of you. You told Jazan the only chance he had left to become warlord was to get Alari pregnant and that’s what you told him to do—even if he had to force her.”
“What?” the empress rasped.
“Alari once told me it’s expected that an Imperial Daughter will bear children with only one man even if, over her lifetime, she has more than one mate,” Kyndan continued. “I mean, half-sisters each with a different father’s clan interested in seeing them take the throne has been the perfect recipe for civil war in the past, right? And, as you yourself said, Elder, the Az-kye don’t like change. If Alari became pregnant through his assaults, the pressure on her to take Jazan as bound mate—to bear children only with him—would have been enormous. He did what you ordered but in his heart it cost him his honor. I saw that guilt, that self-hatred, for myself in the Circle.”
“You think I would have told him to do such?” Sechon looked at Alari wide-eyed. “My dear child, have I not always been your friend?”
“Well, Jazan’s dead so we can’t ask him but there was someone who, very unintentionally, overheard that conversation. Utar was a warrior of the Az’shu clan—your daughter Helia’s clan. He heard what Jazan was going to do, what you ordered him to do—”
“Your slave is your witness?” the war leader broke in with a disdainful look.
“That’s how he became a slave,” Kyndan returned impatiently and looked at his servant. “Because you did what an honorable warrior would do, you told Helia, the clan leader, what you heard.”
“It did no good.” Utar’s face was drawn and he met Alari’s gaze. “I failed you, Your Majesty. I knew what was to come. I should have protected you. I should have found a way and I cannot ask your forgiveness. I cannot ever forgive myself.”
Alari’s eyes stung but she could not rail against him, this man who had endured clanlessness simply for seeking to prevent Jazan’s crimes.
“Helia had to silence him quickly,” Kyndan said. “She had to keep what was happening from the empress and she knew no one would listen to a warrior who had been cast out of his clan. Of course, just in case, she warned that if he ever talked, his children would be cast out as well.” Kyndan looked at Utar. “That’s what you were trying to tell me the day I was banished. I thought you meant that the empress was responsible but you meant the empress would destroy them if she knew.”
The Consort (Tellaran Series) Page 26