by Alma Boykin
The dusty green soldier perked up, then frowned. “But what about you, Lord Mammal?”
“Oh, I suspect I will have a little explaining to do and some debts to pay off before I get to move on.”
“That’s not fair. Ah,” he caught himself. “Ah, that’s not fair, my lord.”
Rada grinned behind her facemask. “A fair is a place where you buy, sell, and trade, Private.” Then the grin faded and she leaned forward, bracing for a better shot.
She heard swearing on frequency, then someone calling, “enemy at our rear, enemy approaching from behind.” A quick glance that way showed a glimpse of black, and several troopers pivoting and firing.
Aw fewmets, we have to fight through to our vehicles. Damn, damn, damn. Well, at least we can fire in any direction now. She toggled her helmet to broadcast on the Defenders’ emergency frequency, “Prepare for attack. Fire when ready, fire at will.” A wave of black shapes surged toward the outcrop, and just as Rada’s finger squeezed the rifle’s trigger, a second battle began, this time for Rada’s mind.
Rada, grown complacent, had failed to fully raise her mental defenses and now she paid the price as the Death Lovers concentrated their attention on her. Pain and terror, sexual arousal and fear—all these lashed her mind, overriding conscious thought and intention. Only her basic training saved her as Rada’s muscles and eyes sighted their targets, fired, cycled the rifle, sighted, and fired again. Her mind seemed to detach from her body as she fought off the energy attack along with the physical ones. Private Deel slumped forward, his chest vaporized by a rifle shot. The mammal wanted to drop her weapon, to give in to the lust or the terror burrowing through her inner shields. She’d never felt anything on the scale of the emotional attack and she fell back on her earliest training in a desperate attempt to stop the Death Lovers’ assault on her brain.
As the mammal’s mind fought, her body continued its own battle. She stripped Pvt. Deel’s ammunition pouches, feeding them into her weapon when she began running low. “Shoot to kill,” she heard her voice ordering. “Shoot to kill, not to wound.” The Azdhagi fell back to Unag’s rock, then farther, retreating upslope into a defensive circle as the Death Lovers pushed forward. Unag stopped to reload his own weapon and glanced at the Lord Defender in time to see her lose her silent battle.
As Unag watched, Rada’s defenses failed. She stopped firing, her back arched, and she screamed. The earlier breach in her mental defenses had left a path for the Death Lovers and one of them found it. The others followed, reaching into the depths of the mammal’s memories, swarming her. Unag felt the shift, felt the monsters taking over the Lord Defender, preparing to turn her against the Azdhagi as they stripped her mind of all the information that it held. The True-dragon had to break the attack.
Unag bellowed, “Garrlow!” He galloped out of the formation and into the Death Lovers, broadcasting fury and anger with all his might. The charge distracted the black swarm and they shifted some of their attention from the Lord Defender to the True-Dragon. Unag fought hard but the sheer numbers overwhelmed him. He threw his head up for another battle cry and saw a flash of silver as an Azdhag fighter aircraft appeared, followed by four more. Unag screamed pure triumph, knocking the Death Lovers out of their mind net for an instant. The first danger-close blast from the fighters shattered that net. He never saw the second blast.
Rada shrieked as the energy backlashed through her brain. Someone shoved blue-hot metal along her nerves, searing them raw. She felt the shockwave and sting of debris from the second blast, felt forefeet dragging her under cover, but Rada’s body no longer answered her mind. Pain rippled and danced like auroras until her nervous system shut down and she sank into a numb trance. She heard someone calling her on the radio, but could not respond, other than two clicks of acknowledgment. Azdhagi in Defender uniforms appeared, firing at the remaining Death Lovers, killing all of them. Rada closed her eyes.
“Lord Ni Drako, report,” a deep voice ordered. Rada opened her eyes and found a very large Azdhag in full battle armor standing in front of her. He turned his head and she saw the helmet markings of the Palace Guard, underscored with the mark of the royal lineage. Somehow, Rada moved enough to get to one knee.
“Royal Highness, we found evidence of an invasion and tracked the enemy to this, their base. The Defenders’ fought to the best of their ability and held the enemy to this ground.” Rada’s voice grew harsh as she explained, “My errors and stupid underestimation of the enemy’s skills and numbers led to the loss of almost two squads of Defenders, as well as the death of Unag of House Garrlow.” She took a deep breath to continue but the Prince Imperial raised a gauntleted forefoot.
“Stop, Lord Defender. We received your message four hours ago and scrambled as soon as we realized the urgency of the situation.” He said something else, but Rada never heard it. Her exhausted body could take no more and the mammal fell onto her face, unconscious.
When Rada awoke, Prince Imperial Keershan had taken over but refused to relieve her. “You remain in command, Lord Defender Ni Drako,” he repeated. “You have done nothing in error, or so your men swear.”
Rada could not muster the will to argue. She oversaw the survey of the battlefield, and agreed that the bodies of the Death Lovers had to be burned. The oily smoke drove everyone as far upwind as possible and Sgt. Leeks later swore that he saw the trees trying to bend out of the way of the foul, black miasma. Rada made her initial report and leaned on Prince Keeshan and the others as much as she could. She functioned in a fog. Her body did what was necessary, but over half of her mind failed to respond, except to throb or to send stabbing pains like spears of fire through her brain as she tried to think.
Only one certainty remained: that Rada owed blood debt to House Garrlow. She and she alone had caused Unag’s death. If she’d listened to his warnings, the Death Lovers could not have gotten to her so easily. She’d not have walked into the trap, not have surrendered to their attack against her mind. Rada’s soul had died in the final attack. Now her body and all else belonged to House Garrlow for their judgment. She suspected what the verdict would be and she welcomed it. Rada eased herself out of command, delegating as much as she could without being obvious about it, accepting recommendations with more grace than usual.
On one thing, however the Lord Defender had been implacable. Unag’s pyre received all the care given to those of the fallen Defenders. Even the priest acquiesced without challenging the mammal’s orders and offered the same prayers and praises he would have given a fallen Azdhag. The flames burned high, too high, but Lord Ni Drako remained in place until Prince Keershan forced the mammal back and beat out the scorched spots on the noble’s uniform.
The next day Rada formally turned command over to the prince. “I am debt-bound, Royal Highness, and so am unfit for command until that debt is released.” Rada’s voice sounded dead to her ears, as dead as Unag and the other warriors, as dead as the villagers and manor folk she’d failed to protect, as dead as her soul. Keershan did not understand but neither did he try to stop the Lord Defender from going alone into the Wildlands.
“When will you return, Lord Ni Drako?” he’d asked, talon poised over a message recorder.
“When the blood-debt is discharged, Highness.” She bowed, turned and then hesitated. “When that happens, you will know.” The ’Hart would send a death message to the King-Emperor before destroying itself, another life taken by her hands. “You will know,” she repeated before limping into the night.
And so the Lord Defender’s account ended. Lord Naldori severed their mental connection and the mammal slumped to her side on the cool stone. There was nothing left for her but to wait for judgment. She felt darkness seeping into her mind once more and she let it come, too spent to resist or even to pray. Nothingness swallowed her.
The merciful respite of unconsciousness could not last. Muscles cramping from lack of motion, head pounding with dehydration, Rada awoke. No, she cried silently, no, please, have
I not suffered enough? She tried to move but something restrained her arms and legs, while soft leather covered her eyes. The mammal lay still again.
Rada heard steps draw closer as a tail dragged over stone. She felt her head being lifted as something soft but supportive slid under it. Careful talons released the cuffs holding her wrists and ankles. «Your pardon, Lord Ni Drako,» a female voice whispered into her mind. «When I examined your eyes you began having seizures and the senior healer feared that you might be injured further if you fell.»
Thus warned, Rada moved very carefully indeed, not trying to roll or shift her position but just drawing her arms and knees in to ease the cramping. She felt better until the scent of cooked meat reached her nose and her stomach reacted violently. Before she could make a total mess of herself, cool forefeet steadied her head as Rada’s gut tried to empty. There had been nothing in it to begin with and the effort left the mammal drained of any energy she’d regained from sleep. «Drink this; it is nothing but water,» a new, older male voice commanded and Rada felt a Healer’s touch as well. She did as ordered.
After Rada finished the water, she managed to eat a thin, soupy sort of something, again with the Healer’s help. «You need to sleep,» and before Rada could protest she’d been pushed into dreamless rest. She awoke on her own and stretched, running her fingers over a soft pelt of some kind. Multiple pelts, actually, she discovered as she traced very small and even stitches. It was a leather blanket-quilt, stuffed with tree-fluff. Now fully awake, Rada moved the coverlet, folding it as she sat up and looked around.
«You are aware?» The deep male tone rang in her head and her heart sank as she beheld an albino True-dragon walking toward her.
Slowly and painfully Rada shifted onto one knee, then got to her feet. “Yes, Lord Naldori,” and she bowed.
He studied her, his expression grave. «The House has decided on the price of the blood debt owed,» the reptile announced without further preamble. «And it has been paid in full. More than full. As soon as Healer Vorlau gives his permission, you are free to leave, Lord Ni Drako. The gods go with you on your journey.» Before Rada could reply, the pink-white form turned and departed into the depths of the mountain.
Some time later grey and dark-red Vorlau finished examining the Lord Defender. «You need to eat and rest, my lord. Otherwise your body is sound.»
“And my mind?”
Vorlau answered honestly. «You have been burned. Time will heal the wounds but there will always be pain when you extend your reach to the full limit.» His whiskers fluttered slowly and he gave the mammal a sympathetic pat with his tailtip. «The scarring means that nothing from outside your own mind can ever manipulate you through your gift again without your knowledge, if that is any consolation.»
“Thank you. That is reassuring, Healer Vorlau, and your words sooth my spirit.” The mammal clambered to her feet, using the wall of the cavern mouth to help her. She looked out at the soft green land below them, where the foothills rolled gently toward the distant blue sea and soft, white, fair-weather clouds drifted on a light breeze. Rada imagined the landscape as it would have been had the Defenders lost and her mind flinched from the thought.
«No, Lord Defender,» Vorlau cautioned, carefully resting his forefoot on her shoulder. «Keep the wounds clean or they will scar even worse. But you know this.»
“I do, Healer. Thank you for your care and may your House prosper in peace.”
«The gods be with you,» he replied, then turned back and vanished into the warm shadows of Garrlow’s Retreat. The female mammal waited long enough to show proper respect to the House, then turned back toward the waiting kingdom. Clean anger surged through her, giving her limping steps speed and confidence as she strode down a faint trail toward the place where she’d left Night’s Claw. Commander Rada Lord Ni Drako had cleared her debt. Now it was Schleer’s turn.
4: Building Storms and Mending Minds
Commander Rada Lord Ni Drako’s reappearance elicited consternation, dismay, relief, and in one case, intense disappointment. After all, according to Azdhagi religion, the dead never walk the world. Although Rada had told Prince Keershan the results of her meeting with House Garrlow and her plans to return to the Palace, he, being possessed of a twisted sense of humor as well as a keen sense of politics, kept the information to himself. As a result, when Night’s Claw landed in its usual place beside Rada’s timeship, the landing field guards fled, certain that the dead Lord Defender had returned, seeking revenge.
Rada opened the canopy, stretched, and clambered down the aircraft’s fuselage. She opened a hatch and pulled her stuff-satchel and walking cane out of the tiny cargo compartment, inspected the ’Claw to make certain that everything was as it should be. She also made a note that the voice communication equipment needed repair: she’d not been able to call in to Palace Control for her landing clearance. Rada sighed. The entire mission had been a cluster-fuck of planetary proportions, so radio failure came as no surprise. At least the wings hadn’t fallen off.
She limped into the wardroom in the Defenders’ and Palace Guards’ wing of the palace complex and looked around for the officer on duty. Captain Tarkee poked his muddy-tan muzzle out of his office, gasped, and sank to the floor. “Tarkee?” Rada poked him with her cane, then knelt and felt under his foreleg for a pulse, extending her Healing touch just enough to confirm that the stocky reptile did not have a medical problem. “Well I’ll be jiggered,” the mammal declared, smiling for the first time in a sixt.
Someone else gasped and Rada turned in her crouch, nose to muzzle-tip with Sergeant Nahrk. “Lord Mammal, you’re back!” The dark green reptile made a warding gesture with his forefoot and tail. When Rada remained solid, he backed up a step. “Ah, what happened to Captain Tarkee, my lord?”
“He fainted.”
Several other Defenders and two Palace Guards had wandered into the main area, and Rada heard the huffing sounds that served Azdhagi as snickering. The priest, a lean, gray male originally from Rada’s own holdings, walked up to Rada, nudged her, and confirmed, “Lord Mammal is alive and in bodily form. Tell the servants to quit spreading rumors as if they were nutroot paste.”
Rada got to her feet, hiding a wince as the muscles in her weak leg tried to cramp. “We do have physical training in the morning, do we not?” The soldiers scattered back to their barracks. A live Lord Defender was not worth losing any more precious sleep hours over. “Father, if you would check on Tarkee when he revives, please?”
“Yes, Lord Mammal.”
Rada flopped out on the sleeping mat in her “closet,” asleep as soon as her head touched the padding.
The next morning the Lord Defender joined “his” soldiers in their morning drills and exercises. Rada did everything but run. The physical activity hurt her still-recovering muscles and joints, but she needed to quash any rumors about her being weak. She did indulge in a long soak in one of the hot pools, however. High tech cleaners and sanitizers are wonderful, but nothing beats hot water and soap, she mused. Suitably cleaned and exercised, Rada strolled to her quarters. She changed into her usual garb, sent in an electronic request for a late midday meal, and began writing up her report of the past days’ events.
The rough draft took four hours and left Rada shaking. She got up and walked over to the large bay window, her tail thrashing back and forth and her claws pricking her palms when she closed her hands. The muscles on her head ached from holding her ears flat, and she took several deep breaths. Be calm, be centered, be detached, she chanted over and over in her mind. The mantra triggered deeper breathing and slowed her heart rate. Her ears came up and her fur settled. Now Rada could look outside, ignoring the activity in the courtyard in favor of staring at the soft, hazy blue sky. She heard the “secret” door to her quarters open, followed by the scratch of talons and metal on stone and tile and she turned, twisting the head of her cane to unlock the sword blade and starting to draw it.
“At ease, Lord Defender,” Prince Imper
ial Keershan ordered. Rada dropped to one knee but did not bow her head. The heavyset reptile walked around the mammal, studying her. “You may be seated.” She sat where she was. “My honored sire is not pleased with your return.”
“I see. If I might ask, your highness, is he displeased with the manner of my return?”
Keerhsan snorted and walked over to the window seat. He rose onto his hind legs and studied the window. “Is this sand glass?”
“Yes, your highness. I’ve been told that it dates to within a few years of the Great Relocation. The panes are removed and rotated once a century, to keep them from puddling.” Keershan tapped one of the panes with a talon and Rada hoped that he would not break the irreplaceable material.
“Fascinating.” The brown and grey reptile strolled back to face Rada. “My honored sire is displeased with the fact that you survived to return at all, Ni Drako. He would prefer that you had died or been executed or enslaved by House Garrlow. Then the Imperial family would have received all credit for saving Drakon IV from your incompetence.” Keershan’s tone told Rada that he was quoting his father, but the words still made the fur on her back stand up.
“Royal Highness, the Imperial family did save the Defenders and Drakon IV from my stupidity.”
Keershan jammed his muzzle in Rada’s face, enunciating every hissed word so that Rada could not mistake him. “No. Fewmets, Ni Drako. The Defenders stopped the Death Lovers before my troops arrived at the battle. We just cleaned up and you know it. So shut up and listen,” he snarled when Rada took a breath to argue. “Schleer wants you dead and he thinks that you want him dead. That makes you dangerous, in his mind. Do not go anywhere near the Imperial wing without at least two guards, Ni Drako. I will not approach you directly again.” Keershan backed up enough that Rada could no longer tell that he’d had very fresh paddletail fish and a glass of derzhin for the noon meal. “Your concubine needs to be here for the end-of-summer festival, Lord Ni Drako.”