Swords Above the Stars

by Roman Zlotnikov

  “I do not want the symbols of the law to fall into the hands of the rebels.”

  “What rebels?” she asked in a hoarse voice.

  Tera just shrugged. “Come on, please. I may be small, but I am the regent, and I can hardly believe that there are no rumors going around the guards’ barracks. These days I have to think more about the crown and throne than about dolls and kittens, otherwise someone else will.” She paused, giving the sergeant time to recover herself, and finished firmly. “I want you to think of somewhere where they can be hidden safely.”

  The sergeant looked around. The park was extensive. Despite the southern spurs of Aldiler having extensive hunting grounds, traditionally only a few hunts took place in the park in winter. To pick a hiding place was therefore not difficult. There were a lot of quiet, secluded places, which at the same time, perhaps, made it harder to choose just one. Finally, the sergeant nodded emphatically, “Let’s go.”

  They rode for about an hour, the horses carrying them to a small clearing at the foot of a rocky cliff. Down the ledge of rock, a small waterfall rumbled, flowing from the mouth of a dark cave rising above them at a height of around forty feet.

  “This place is called ‘the tongue of the person with a sweet tooth’, Your Majesty. There are many secluded caves in this cliffside, but I'll show you one which has an extra secret.”

  The sergeant jumped from her horse, threw off her coat and boots, and tying the bag to her belt, deftly climbed up the cliff. Climbing fifty feet, she reached a wide stone ledge, then slowly began to descend, moving slightly toward the right. Ten feet down, she clung to the ledge by one hand, and pulling off the bag, gently lowered it somewhere deep between the rocks. After this was done, she repeated the same trip up and down, and jumped to the foot of the cliff from a height of five feet. Having caught her breath, she pointed to a slab of quartz protruding from the rock about three feet from the spot where she had hidden the bag.

  “That is the main sign, Your Majesty. That place can only be seen from up on the cliff, and not from more than five feet away.” She exhaled loudly. “I don’t know, maybe there are other places where your precious bag could be hidden, but at this moment, nothing better comes to mind.”

  The girl nodded and silently turned her pony. Evlampa dressed quickly and jumped into the saddle, soon catching up with her pupil.

  “Have you served to retirement age, Sergeant?”

  “That was already ten years ago, Your Majesty.”

  “Do you have relatives that you could move in with when you resign?”

  The sergeant shrugged wistfully, then remembering something, she blushed slightly.

  “I have no relatives, but there is one widower in Guley province. He keeps an inn in Emilat, very close to the transit station. We were going to …”

  The girl nodded.

  “You must resign before the end of the week and leave the palace. “The girl glanced at her shyly and added, “I do not want the rebels to be able to ask you questions.”

  Evlampa nodded, and all the way back to the palace, they rode in silence.

  In the evening, going to bed embracing a huge velvet teddy bear, Tera hugged her mentor and whispered in her ear, “I know that I will not die.”

  ***

  For a fortnight the palace lived an ordinary life. Every day the regent appeared in the conference chamber, accompanied by her ministers, sitting in front of a huge screen from which her mother watched with a smile, and officially opened the meetings. The huge table had a lot of empty seats, as some of the members of the cabinet had flown out, together with the queen, while others watched from screens along the walls, which had been commissioned by the queen in the most insecure provinces. But Tera felt worried enough to shiver when she sat in her deep chair on a specially made pillow, otherwise her sweet little face would have been completely invisible above the massive malachite tabletop, and in a thin quavering voice uttered, “With the blessing of Eve our Savior, the council is open.”

  After that her role in this was over, and accompanied by her mentor, she left the conference chamber and returned to the classroom. Then everything was mere routine: lessons, horseback riding, and yachting. Yet, the foreboding of coming thunderstorms was constantly in the air.

  On that particular day, Tera woke up unusually early. There was no cabinet meeting scheduled because the fleet had already entered the conflict zone. The girl rose quietly, dressed quickly, climbed out of the window, and jumped into a bed of gladioli. Squatting low, she listened. The garden was quiet. The heady scent of flowers wafted in the breeze from the rose garden a hundred feet away. Tera got up, and, crouching, ran to a shelter covered by nanofilm.

  The night before she had secretly moved a waterskimmer vehicle to the rose garden. It was fully fueled and loaded with trunks bearing her chosen belongings, a supply of biscuits, and a few cans of army rations which she had taken from field kits left in the palace guards’ barracks. The girl giggled. These adults were sometimes so careless. While on the one hand, they were obliged to protect the palace from outsiders, who would think to protect the equipment of the royal guards from members of the royal family?

  Tera sighed. Perhaps all this was nonsense, and there was nothing to fear, but … she went to the console in the corner of the gallery and dialed from a landline videophone that the workers in the rose garden used.

  They were gentle, burly men, and more than once they had pampered a too-slender princess—in their opinion—with their own home-baked pies. She dialed the personal com of Captain Amalia. For several days she had not dared to risk having a conversation from her personal com, but took the first opportunity to use the console in the rose garden.

  “Captain, it is the regent speaking, are there any strangers near you?”

  “No, Your Majesty.”

  She sounded annoyed. The girl's heart sank with an anxious feeling of foreboding.

  “Then what are you so unhappy about?”

  “Uh, nothing special, nothing worth your attention.”

  Tera imagined the young Amalia, who herself was only seventeen years old, her patronizing smiles. Now, at half past six in the morning she was listening to the anxious voice of her eight-year-old mistress. It evidently infuriated her.

  “If you think I called you so early because I like your snide smiles, then you are deeply mistaken, Captain.”

  The marquis choked. “Excuse me, Your Majesty.”

  Tera controlled herself and continued more calmly. “So, what's the problem?”

  “We received an order from the commandant of the capital to strengthen security around your residence.”

  If this was an order from the Minister of Internal Affairs, then why did it take them so long, but if not … damn, her head was spinning from all these problems. What a pity that no one believed her, only her mentor. What a pity that her mother was not by her side. The girl sighed. It is hard to understand the business of adults when you're eight-years old. But sometimes there is no alternative. She needed to learn, to understand, and to learn to be the regent, otherwise another would rule.

  “Where are the troops coming from?”

  “From the capital, where else?” The captain replied, surprised.

  Tera winced; these adults could be so stupid.

  “I understand, but which unit?”

  The captain spent a few moments trying to find the information on her com, then suddenly said hoarsely, “They are Reymeyks.”

  Tera gasped and covered her mouth with her hand. Reymeyk was a planet which supported the rebellion of the previous Duke Karsaven until the very end. The rebellion was only suppressed after the reigning queen imposed martial law.

  “Who is the commandant of the city?” Tera asked quickly.

  “Count Erg … I will go and find out now.” The captain's voice was dry and calm. Admittedly, she quickly rid herself of any confusion. “The office of the commandant is not responding. I am requesting permission to transmit a planetary alarm signal
.”

  At this point in the conversation a familiar nasal voice interrupted. “Too late, my dear. No one can hear you. The Palace is locked under a power dome. I advise you to sit still and wait for my Reymeyks to gently take you by the hand and deliver you to me. And I do not advise you to do anything stupid. They are seriously excitable after the elder inhabitant of this palace had such fun on their planet.”

  “You would not dare!” Tera exclaimed. “My mother will destroy you when she returns.”

  Duke Karsaven laughed nasally. “I think not. Tonight, at midnight, when you watched your tenth dream, asleep in your cot, the squadron gave the ‘La Fudr’ signal that marked the beginning of the battle. At five-forty in the morning all connections with the flagship ceased. So now you're an orphan my dear. I am not envious of her, nor you.” She laughed again.

  Tera sank, powerless, onto a sandy path in the rose garden and cried bitterly.

  2

  Going into her chambers, Duke Karsaven pulled the ceremonial sash and sword from over her head and tossed it into the corner. The farewell ceremony with the royal squadron had exhausted her, and the crowds of people had got on her nerves. Her dress uniform was pompous and over-tight all around, and had driven her mad all day.

  Adam be damned! If all goes as planned, her first edict would be to do away with all these trinkets. A true warrior should be dressed simply and conveniently, whether in a field uniform, or a dress uniform. And all this tinsel … God, it’s all so manly! She pulled off her embroidered lace-fronted camisole in disgust, pulled off her mimicsuit, and slid into the shower cubicle.

  The queen will regret that she had denied her the right to lead the fleet into battle, she, who held the highest rank among the members of the royal family! While on the other hand, it would have delayed the revenge. The duke smiled wryly. Well, in this case, revenge could wait. Instead the glory of the greatest naval leader, and savior of the kingdom, would not be prevented in the future.

  The duke did not doubt for one moment the fact that she would have won this battle. Karsaven sighed. What can you do, it is fate? While, so far, she did not have the power that she craved, nor the opportunity to take revenge, but things can change. Yes, things can change. She adjusted the control panel to the coldest water setting, and standing under the tight cold jets, imagined, with pleasure and anticipation of revenge, how soon many of those who called her an uncouth martinet and sparrow-brained, would be fawning all over her and trying to curry favor before her.

  In truth, some of them.

  All these haughty Count Amalia’s, Ashmarald Dukes, or Ergenoi Earls were too tightly linked to the ruling house. Well, it may very well be that someone will have to be sent to the scaffold. All queens start the same way. Did not the current queen do the same to her sister, Karsaven’s mother? The same fate awaited the second sister of the queen, if her aunt Sandra had not fled with the remnants of the rebel squadron.

  The duke shook her head. Those remnants were twice the size of the forces that she now controlled, and yet they still could not even break into the inner space of the Throne of the World, although it is true that the entire Royal Navy had confronted the rebellious sisters.

  The duke grinned.

  Well, today the situation is different. The Royal Navy is moving towards Outpost, and her squadron was here, above the Throne of the World, above the center of the universe, or at least that part of it that is populated by people, and nothing else mattered. Karsaven got out of the shower, and began furiously rubbing her close-cropped hair with a towel. “Garmada!”

  An adjutant appeared on the threshold carrying incense. The duke threw down the towel and collapsed on the bed.

  “Come on, and be quick. I have a lot of things to do.”

  While the adjutant’s skilled hands gently rubbed scented creams into her skin, Karsaven reflected. Of course, her fleet of forty ships, which included only three light cruisers, was not even a tenth of the Royal Navy. But with a little luck, like the death of a leader in the battle, or at least the defeat of the fleet, which would shake the authority of the queen and seriously weaken the royal squadron, there could now be a chance.

  She only needed one chance, and she would not lose this opportunity, she would use it! She screamed out loud and clenched her fists. The adjutant recoiled in fright, watching on warily, in case the duke’s hand was to reach out to teach the negligent servant a lesson. But no, she just gritted her teeth. When the procedure was over, Karsaven jumped to her feet and pulled on a mimicsuit made from rough cloth.

  She lit the room in a severe black-and-white color, motioned the adjutant to leave, and looked at herself in the mirror. She put a small amount of lipstick on her lips and turned to the videophone. When the face of Captain Agrippa, the commander of the duke’s flagship, appeared on the screen, she smiled fondly at her friend and with a wink, said, “I have finally done with all this mess. My dear, don’t you think it’s time to do something more enjoyable?”

  ***

  The next few days were filled with a string of official, and semi-official, receptions and meetings which the duke found hateful, full of open flirting and semi-disgusting. Besides that, she had to endure all this alone. After a steamy night in the bedroom, which happened the day after the departure of the royal squadron, the duke sent Agrippa to her flagship to prepare for flight, and since then she had often longed for her gentle girlfriend. But there was nothing she could do. The time for action had not yet arrived.

  One night, Garmada gently shook the duke’s shoulder. She sat up in bed sharply, putting her hand under the pillow for a weapon, but recognizing Garmada, gave her an annoyed look. “What's the matter?”

  She shyly handed over a printed cryptogram. “You asked to wake you up at any time, if this arrived.”

  Karsaven quickly scanned the text and anger instantly turned to joy.

  “Is the shuttle ready?”

  “Yes, ma'am.”

  Karsaven threw off the quilt and literally threw her, sinewy body out of the bed.

  “Contact Agrippa on the secure channel. Let her prepare for takeoff. The course will be…” She gave Garmada an appraising look, as if wondering if she could trust her with such a secret and apparently satisfied by what she saw, repeated, “the course is for Reymeyk.”

  The flight to Reymeyk took a day and a half. The pilot placed the cruiser into a parking orbit. The duke had spent the entire trip in the control room, to Agrippa’s hidden displeasure. She had been hoping that this trip would handsomely compensate her for these pointless few days in orbit, and she began biting her nails impatiently. All this time the duke had been trying to suppress her overwhelming excitement, but now she felt that she was losing what was left of her composure. She stood before the view screen, not taking her eyes from the spiraling thunderstorms that shrouded this gloomy globe of a planet.

  “Reymeyk is a planet of proud people.” Karsaven turned to Agrippa impulsively. “They refused to give up my mother even when the Queen threatened an orbital bombardment.”

  “Perhaps they were confident that our kind-hearted queen would never do such a thing,” said Agrippa sarcastically. The disdain her girlfriend showed for her had begun to irritate her, but she faltered before the duke’s angry stare and immediately bit her tongue.

  “If you ever dare to say anything good about the creature that still wears the crown, I'm …” Karsaven’s sparkling eyes flashed for a moment in thought. “I may well leave you with your head, it has served me well in recent times, but I will tear out your ovaries.”

  The duke turned away, without paying attention to how Agrippa’s trembling hand was wiping the sweat from her forehead. An oppressive silence hung over the bridge. The duke had never been known for her calm disposition, but this outburst … possibly just the sight of Reymeyk, her mother’s last stronghold, had affected her … the figure of Lieutenant Gram, the duke’s personal pilot, appeared in the doorway.

  “Your Excellency, the shuttle is ready.” The d
uke turned sharply and stared at the officer behind the remote connection. She hurriedly jumped up. “Clearance to land has been received, Your Excellency.”

  “So why the hell have you been so quiet about it?”

  The officer looked around, frightened. She could not tell her that the agreement had come at the exact moment Her Excellency was publicly flogging the captain … But the duke didn’t wait for an answer. Nervously banging her right fist on the palm of her left hand, she quickly left the bridge.

  The chief of police for the capital of Reymeyk, her old friend General Yugon, met her at the civil spaceport landing pad.

  “Good day, Your Excellency.” The general stepped forward and hugged her guest. “The emirs are waiting for you,” she continued, and after hugging her, she pointed to a stretch limousine standing at the edge of the runway.

  When the hostess and her guest climbed inside the car, and the car moved forward, swaying gently, the duke turned to her friend and asked impatiently, “Well, my dear, do you have any pleasant news for me? Have the emirs made a decision yet?”

  The general shook her head. “No, and in truth, you will have to work really hard to try to tip the scales in your favor.”

  The duke cursed rudely. “Don’t the people of Reymeyk take their oath of allegiance to the House of Karsaven seriously these days?”

  The general grimaced.

  “There’s no point in blaming the people of Reymeyk. Remember where that vow led us to last time.”

  The duke stared at her in surprise. “What! You as well?”

  Yugon laughed. “Oh, no, my friend. I'll follow you, even if I am the only one. I have my own scores to settle with the House of Eter. But, it seems to me that you have enough generals, now you need more soldiers.”

  Karsaven smiled wryly. The limousine pulled up at the high palace, which occupied a whole block in the center of the capital. The duke stared at the glittering, crystal windows and shining, polished-marble facade. “Did the Queen allow you to restore the Palace of Thunderstorms?”

  The general laughed loudly. “Well, she's too far away for us to be able to ask her personally, and her officials have not shown their faces here for five years, since Countess Zaygor accidentally got mauled on the horns of Bactrian rhino.”