“How dare you, woman!”
“What am I supposed to do? Would you expect me to try to make a ship fly without a pilot, or cook without cooking equipment? If you want me to help, then give me a chance to work. If not—look for someone else—but I must warn you that any anthropologist you contact will tell you the same thing.”
For a while the office was silent, but then the Tyrant gave a barely perceptible nod. One of the courtiers turned to her and said gloomily, “Good. All that you need will be delivered to you, but you will work here and alone.”
Dagmar nodded in satisfaction. So far everything was going as she and Neerget had hoped it would.
“OK, but in this case my expedition must arrive tomorrow in the Sacred Zone of the First Landing, and begin excavations within the week.”
“That’s impossible,” said a tall, thin-as-a-stick old man, dressed in a green cassock-like robe. “No foreigner can be allowed to set foot on our sacred land.”
“So then, what was this farce of an invitation all about?” Dagmar said, her eyes narrowing angrily.
All of this really was going as Neerget had anticipated. He had not just been sat on this planet wiping his ass after all. Before she had set off for the audience, they had locked themselves in his office.
***
“Now all the local spies are drooling, imagining what we are doing here.” Neerget grinned then turned serious. “But it's the only place where I can be totally relaxed, knowing that nobody is listening to us.”
“What about my office? The last time we were there we talked quite freely.”
“That time my security team checked your office five minutes prior to your arrival, but now I do not want to attract attention to you about your forthcoming audience with the Tyrant.”
“Didn’t we attract their attention last time? I would have thought they would be interested in what we talked about there, or were their microphones not working?”
Neerget laughed with some embarrassment.
“I'm sorry, but their microphones were not switched off.”
“What does that mean?”
“Well, my guys superimposed an act of love to be played over the system. They eagerly caught all your groans, cries, and passionate pleas for me not to stop. That is what they heard.”
“How dare you!” Dagmar blushed.
“Don’t be offended,” Neerget said calmly. “It’s the only pastime they don’t worry about. If we tried to put one over on them and talk about types of herbal tea or the weather conditions on this planet, they would have suspected a trick. Instead … well, what else could they expect from a pair of depraved foreigners left alone together?”
He said it in such a playful way that Dagmar broke down and laughed.
“So, it is the perfect justification for our meeting in my office. Since trying the same scheme again in your office would be risky. I do not know how much time you have before the audience, and the success of such an operation depends largely on its organization.”
“So, what happens if I spill the beans?”
Neerget shrugged. “I had to take that risk, and especially since you don’t appear to be the kind of person who talks to herself. Plus I made sure that you would not have any other suitable companions to talk to.”
“Oh, you wretch!” Dagmar laughed aloud. “So, I owe it to you that I couldn’t get through to Mener?”
“Guilty,” nodded Neerget, “but do you not agree that it was a reasonable measure to take? Especially since it is quite possible that you could contact the Deputy from the Tyrant’s palace.”
“Why is it only ‘quite possible’?” Dagmar asked surprised.
“Because this is Zovros,” Neerget said dryly.
Dagmar suddenly felt that all their intricate calculations could collapse like a house of cards when confronted with the reality that surrounded them on all sides. It was a feeling of helplessness, and it made Dagmar shiver.
Neerget patted her on the hand in a friendly way. “Don’t be afraid,” he said. “That is extremely unconstructive.”
Dagmar broke down and laughed again “Oh you. Go away with your jokes. Let's get down to business.”
Neerget nodded in agreement, rose from the table, and walked over to a small safe in the corner of the room. Disconnecting the protective field, he opened the door, took out something very small and silently handed it to Dagmar. It was a bracelet, just like the one that was on her arm.
“This is a common device, designed as a copy of your personal one, with just a few thousand atoms on one of the nanocircuits having additional circuits. They will record everything that is spoken around you. And when you decide that it is time to send a message, just click on the input strip four times. The power is strong enough to break through any protective field.” He was silent for a moment, giving Dagmar the opportunity to examine the device in more detail, then added, “One more thing. Never remove the bracelet. If it is disabled or if you are in a certain situation—say if you were rendered incapable for instance— the information will be transmitted automatically.”
Dagmar paused, getting used to the idea of that possible situation, which, right then she didn’t want to think about, but could possibly happen, and swapped over the bracelets without hesitation.
Neerget nodded.
“Now, let’s talk about your plans. Be prepared for the fact that they will refuse you access to the Sacred Zone of the First Landing.”
“Who bloody cares, the expedition plans are extremely detailed, and include enough competent staff to do without—”
Neerget interrupted her. “What I mean to say is that they might refuse, not just you, but the whole expedition access to the site. Don’t forget it was just an excuse to get you to the planet. They succeeded, so why do they need problems with the local priesthood?”
“So, what now?” She looked helplessly at Neerget.
“Do not despair,” he nodded reassuringly, “I've already told you that you have to be prepared for such an eventuality, but it does not mean that there is nothing you can do about it.”
“What am I supposed to do?”
Neerget smiled “Haggle.”
“Do what?” Dagmar did not understand.
“I told you that they have the mentality of medieval merchants, and you have a trump card. They are unlikely to take the risk of inviting another anthropologist. In fact, if they do refuse access I suggest you point out the unlikelihood of them tempting another anthropologist to the planet. And, of course, after giving you information, they also will not risk letting you go. They depend on you. Think it over, then squeeze every last drop out of them. Price yourself high. That way you will win their respect …”
***
That's why Dagmar was now sure that these guys would dance to her tune, even if they didn’t want to. The man in the green cassock curled his lip and looked away. Then the voice of a fat man standing in the corner of the room rose.
“You need to understand, darling,” he said, looking at her lustfully from head to toe in a way that made Dagmar want to go scrub herself in a shower. “We needed an anthropologist, and as you were so eager to get here, we gave you the opportunity. Nothing more can be considered from our side.”
“In that case, you will have to look for another anthropologist for your work.”
“Please be aware, my dear,” the fat man said with what sounded like an evil chuckle, “you cannot leave the palace until you have completed what we were promised.”
“Well, I will have to take advantage of your hospitality for a very long time then, but keep in mind that you will find it impossible to lure another anthropologist to a place where one has already disappeared.”
“You will be tortured, you vessel of sin, and you will squirm and beg for mercy.” The man in the green cassock sounded like a hissing snake.
Suddenly the voice of the Tyrant echoed around the room.
“Agreed.”
The man in the green cassock jumped to his
feet. “But, Your Magnificence, it is impossible …”
The Tyrant locked his blue-gray eyes on the man in the green cassock. He stopped talking, holding his hands to his throat as if he was choking. Turning away from him, the Tyrant looked back at Dagmar.
“You will have delivered all the necessary equipment for the excavation work, a permit for the dig, and be allowed unfettered access to any relevant information. Are you willing to start work?”
Neerget had told her that the Tyrant never cheated. Any official or courtier, or even any merchant or shoe shiner would promise you one of the three local moons without flinching, then without hesitation cheat you out of two pennies. But if the Tyrant promised something—it was set in stone. On the other hand, his promises were often ambiguous. But now, as hard as Dagmar tried, she could not find any catch in the Tyrant’s words. Everything was straight, clear, and understandable. So, she simply said, “Yes.”
No one in that office could suspect that it was the last word to be uttered in times of peace. None would believe that it was with this exact word that the War from Hell would begin.
Part I
REBELLION
1
It’s hard to hold back the tears when you so want to cry, especially if you're only eight-years old, but no treacherous drop of moisture fell from her eyes, as Tera bravely raised her head to ensure that anything that had already gathered in her eyes would not spill down her cheeks, drawing wet tracks across her delicate skin which would be visible from afar.
She watched as Duke Karsaven raised a sword above her head and one and a half thousand deep-voiced royal guards roared, "EVIVA!" The battle cry was joined by thousands of commoners, admitted just for the day to the palace square.
The flagship squadron, which beforehand had been hanging majestically motionless in the dazzling blue sky above the palace, began slowly at first, then faster and faster, to rise. Soon the ships had turned into small, gray dots, then completely disappeared.
The guardsmen, stamping their feet, clad in uniform boots, began to push the crowd towards the gate of the palace park, which stretched along a narrow hundred-meter wide facade. The rear of the palace watched over verdant grounds for a further fifteen miles.
Tera felt the firm hand of her mentor on her shoulder.
“Yes, child, you must be brave, you're a woman.”
Tera proudly lifted her chin, but broke down and buried her face into the lacy ruffled front of the woman’s dress, and started to cry loudly. Her mentor stroked the girl with a hand which was rough from the constant handling of the sharkskin hilt of a rapier, and held her close.
“Come on now, calm down, this is the fate of monarchs. Soon your mother will get home, and show those ugly bastards that they were mistaken, thinking that the kingdom of Telinor could be weaker than Okrain. After all, at all times the Throne of the World has had the best of what humanity had to offer.”
“You do not understand, Mistress, I know that they will not return!” As she muttered this, Tera again buried her face into the dress and fell still. Only her skinny shoulders were shaking under her mentor’s large palms.”
“Escort the ruler!” The nasal voice of Duke Karsaven rang out, and when she heard that hateful voice, Tera suddenly calmed down.
Her mother and father were gone forever. There was nothing to be done about it, but for her to prepare for future challenges. Then the captain of the escort, Marquis Amalia, loudly commanded the escort team, and horseshoes clattered resoundingly on the marble.
Tera tore her face from her mentor’s dress, took out a handkerchief, wiped away the traces of tears, and proudly raising her head, walked forward. With the first step of their mistress, the well-trained guards fell in behind her. It wasn’t difficult to keep to her rhythm, as they had long adapted themselves to the girl’s quick, light steps.
***
The heiress soon disappeared, and her mentor turned and threw a searching look at Karsaven, with her imperious disposition.
The duke was a cousin to her pupil, and there was no doubt, that this bitch would rebel, no matter what. The mentor clenched her fists. Well, there was still time to prepare. The Royal Fleet was at least two weeks away from Outpost, and how soon the battle would take place only Eve our Savior knew. It never occurred to her that she was thinking about a future, based on the words of a silly little girl. Since her ward was five-years old, the mentor had repeatedly had occasion to observe, that when the little princess said the words, ‘I know’, she was never wrong.
***
The next morning, Tera sat amid her clothes, which were strewn across the floor next to her bed, busily laying out them out into two unequal heaps. Two of her favorite toys were already lying on the smaller plie, along with a brooch that had been given to her as a present from her father, a medallion, and a royal ring, which her mother had left to the heiress before her departure, as was tradition. There was a pair of field coveralls, emblazoned with the logo and monogram of the ruling house, made last year, and which was already too small for her. Girls in her family dynasty always grew tall quickly. When her mentor entered the chamber, Tera looked up calmly, smiled warmly as if nothing had happened, and continued with what she was doing.
“What are you doing there, Your Majesty?” her mentor inquired in a strict voice.
She just wrinkled up her nose, carried on sorting things and replied capriciously. “Come on now, Galiyat, is that what I am, ‘Your Majesty’?”
“According to the law—” She started to speak but the girl interrupted her.
“You know that if mother comes back, I will remain only the heiress, but if …” Now her voice faltered, and she did not dare to say what she was about to. She wrinkled her small face, as if getting ready to cry, but she resisted the urge and finished in a trembling voice, “That nasty Duke Karsaven will ruin everything, so I want to be ready when the time comes.”
“And don’t you think, my dear, that you should have more trust in your faithful servants? There must be some among them you really trust? Yesterday I spoke with the Minister of Internal Affairs, and she assured me that there was no danger. Moreover, she is ready to calm Your Maj… you, my dear, and to strengthen security around the palace.”
“Perhaps Galiyat, but still I want to be ready in case I find myself alone.”
At these words, spoken in a gentle, childish voice, the mentor suddenly felt so much power that she shivered. Yes, this girl would end up being a great queen one day.
If only she lived that long.
After lunch, the heiress, or rather regent, engaged in mathematics and heraldry, and in the evening, she expected to go showjumping. Tera arrived in the arena, dressed in her usual riding suit, carrying a large, hermetically sealed leather bag over her shoulder. When her strong pony with the white mane was brought out to her, she suddenly turned, looked at the five pages that usually helped her, then turned to her trainer and demanded, “Today I want to exercise alone.”
The trainer, former sergeant of the guard Evlampa, who was transferred to the stables after a severe injury limited the use of the fingers on her right hand, shook her head in disapproval. Since the heiress had officially been handed the crown jewels, her behavior had begun to deteriorate rapidly. You shouldn’t allow a craving for power to poison the souls of gentle and innocent children. But what can you do?
“Very well, Your Majesty.”
“Also, today, we will not have our usual exercise, but go for a jaunt in the park.”
It was incomprehensible. Everyone knew that Tera, with all her childlike spontaneity, adored jumping. Today a lesson had been scheduled for her to jump over various obstacles, but the wishes of the regent were law, and Sergeant Evlampa only gave a restrained nod to express her obedience.
They left the arena, and she confidently rode her pony along an invisible trail between the trees. The sergeant opened her mouth to say that the horse paths were far north of the place from where they were currently, but catching sight of her pup
il’s demeanor, thought it best to keep silent. They rode at a walking pace for about a half hour. Then the girl turned off to one side, and arriving at a small clearing, looked around carefully. She turned to the trainer and motioned that she wanted to get down off the pony. The sergeant jumped from her stallion and placed a palm as wide as a frying pan under Tera’s small foot.
“Is it true what I was told that you were my mother’s sword bearer, Evlampa?”
“Yes, Your Majesty, but that was long ago, before I became an invalid.”
The girl smiled “Somehow I hadn’t noticed that.”
Evlampa shrugged her powerful shoulders.
“Perhaps, if necessary, I can stand in battle better than some of those younger,” she sighed. “But that is still not enough to remain in the Queen’s personal hundred-strong bodyguard.”
“Does that annoy you? Because now, the hundred are on the flagship with the queen.”
‘We in the hundred are always together. If not in body, then in spirit.”
The girl was silent for a few moments, as if not daring to say something very important. Then she nodded, agreeing with some internal conclusion, sighed deeply before diving in, and resolutely turned to the sergeant.
“I have something to show you, Evlampa.”
The girl opened the bag, put her hand inside, and slowly began bringing the royal regalia to light. The first to emerge was the crown. The sergeant, dazed, stared on quietly, as the girl now panting, tried to extract from the bag a thing that in theory could never fit there in the first place. The crown was followed by the royal ring of power, the scepter, and the Order of the Head of the Council of Peers. The sergeant finally came to her senses and waved her hands at the regent to stop.
“That’s enough, Your Majesty. I do not know for what purpose you dragged all of this to the park, and even to this backwood, but my eyes are already dazzled.”
The girl sighed. “We must hide them all in the park, Evlampa.”
“Why?” she asked.
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