by Alma Boykin
Green-grey Kirlin tapped on his keyboard, then looked to Ni Drako. “Lord Defender, can Schree’s Rest be resupplied?”
Rada nodded. “Yes, Great Lord, as can the other towns. If your Imperial Majesty and the Council will allow it, the Defenders can carry supplies in using half-hovers and those new snow carts.” She’d been lobbying for treaded winter vehicles, and finally (after a century!) got them. “We can use it as a training exercise as well as a relief mission.”
King-Emperor Shar rubbed the tip of his muzzle, the nodded. “Very well, We authorize the Lord Defender to take six keesoi of tribute grain out of the Royal stores and deliver it to Schree’s Rest.” He looked at the map, “We don’t believe that these smaller places can be supplied until We know how spring will be, in case the grain blight returns.”
Rada started to correct her overlord, then caught herself. You have no supporters on the Council right now. Don’t antagonize anyone: you might need support later this winter.
After King-Emperor Shar dismissed the meeting, Rada walked out of the chamber to find Lord Zlee-kae waiting for her. He was rather impossible to miss and she almost covered her eye against the blinding colors of his robes and the flash of metallic embroidery on his gloves. It was a good thing he sat on the second row during the Council meeting, Rada thought, or we’d all need eye drops. “Ah, Lord Ni Drako! Just the person I was looking for,” he called cheerfully.
She bowed to the gaudy reptile. “My lord Zlee-kae. How may I be of service?”
“You can come with me to look at some new furnishings that I received. I understand that you know the value of luxuries and I’d appreciate your judgment,” he informed her, swishing his tail so she could better see the paintings on his appendage. Rada almost brushed the reptile off but her gut stopped her. He’s never approached you before and he has information sources you don’t, she reminded herself.
“I have nothing pressing at the moment, my lord,” she replied.
He grinned. “Excellent! Come then, and you can also sample some of the tea I’ve been blending,” he declared, turning and mincing off down the hall.
I’ve never seen an Azdhag mince before. Oh well. Rada shrugged and fell in behind Zlee-kae, wondering if he could be any more flamboyant. The plainly dressed soldier and colorful noble made their way to Zlee-kae’s chambers in the wing where the upper-ranked courtiers stayed. He ushered her into his public rooms. The decor matched the rooms’ current resident and Rada blinked hard at the overflow of lush ornamentation. At least he has very good taste in interior design and the colors blend and flow much more harmoniously than do his robes, she thought with a touch of relief. He gestured with his tail to several comparatively plain pieces of furniture and two vases.
“Are these the items, my lord?”
“Yes. My agent and I already checked the styles and makers’ marks, but still,” he swished his tail and one forefoot, sighing, “one can never be too sure.”
She looked over the furnishings in question, turning one small table upside down and inspecting the finish with her loupe. “My lord, I can assure you that you have not been had. These are genuine, in fine to excellent condition, and your investment is more than reasonable for the quality and age.”
“Goody!” He practically capered in delight. “Skee,” he called to a servant who hovered just inside the other room, “Bring some of my new blend, the melon tea, and the proper accompaniment, for two.”
So much for a quick return to work. Rada sat where Zlee-kae indicated and his servant returned with a pot of steaming, lightly-scented amber tea and small slices of candied melon, star-stalk, and hot-root. Rada took a sip of the delicate tea, looked up, and went on alert as Zlee-kae dropped all hint of levity. “Lord Defender, we’re screwed,” he informed her.
“How so, my lord?” She didn’t doubt him.
The fop spread his talons. “The Great Lords have alienated large numbers of the merchants and the peasants are also unhappy with the merchants. There’s going to be blood come spring.”
Rada reached around and pulled her plait over her shoulder, stroking the length as she thought. “You’re absolutely certain, my lord?”
“Absolutely. I have my contacts and sources just as you do, Lord Defender. Unless something major happens to relieve the hunger or to bring the Great Lords to their senses, preferably both, one group or another will start trouble.” He sipped his tea, pale brown eyes watching his guest closely. “And I wager it’s already started.”
The Lord Defender nodded, saying dryly, “Pardon me if I don’t take you up on that wager, my lord. My revenue is a little short at the moment.” Whatever else Lord Zlee-kae might have been, Rada knew that he was well connected with the merchant and artisan classes of Drakon IV.
The reptile giggled, resuming his usual persona. “Oh, and what do you think of the second prince? Isn’t he,” the reptile gave her a very suggestive look, “such a male? And think about those luscious young males he spends his afternoons sparring with! Mmmm,” he licked the end of his muzzle. And made the gesture that served the Azdhagi the way raising an eyebrow served Rada.
“I will take your word for it, my lord,” Rada waved her hand, mimicking him. “My expertise is in weapons and antiques, since I am both.” She also made a note to check into what Prince Daetak might be up to, besides all hours of the night with his drinking friends.
The rumor mill ground on despite winter storms and short meals. According to both Rada’s and Zlee-kae’s sources, the common Azdhagi placed the blame for hunger and death squarely with the Great Lords and merchants. Fortunately, Rada thought as she tried to massage away a headache, those who blamed one party didn’t blame the other, and no one was blaming the King-Emperor—yet. Prince Daetak had joined the Planetary Council in a non-voting role and much to the irritation of some Great Lords had pressed the case of the commoners, sparing Rada from the task.
Meanwhile, Zlee-kae began weapons work again, claiming that he wanted to regain his trim figure. He favored an archaic style that reminded the Lord Defender of the swordsmen of ancient Earth’s island of Nippon—two-footed, overhead attacks and broad, sweeping sidestrokes with a single-edged blade. She worked him herself, studying how he adapted that style to counter the modern, quadrupedal technique. He might be a soft-spine but he could fight with the best, which explained why he remained alive and at Court. And the practice gave him and Rada opportunities to exchange information.
As they had feared, the smoldering conflagration burst into open flames just after the spring equinox, fanned into life by a grain protest that turned into a murderous riot.
“Why didn’t the Defenders stop this?” Lord Blee demanded, pounding his fisted talons on the table in the Council chamber. Several of the other reptiles cringed as something in the table popped. A whiff of electrical smoke spiraled up from near his display screen, marking the death of a computer circuit. “That’s what they are for, are they not?”
Rada managed to keep her ears from going flat and her tail remained still but it was not easy. “That is not correct, my lord. We are for planetary defense, unless specifically ordered by his Imperial Majesty to act for the benefit of the Azdhag people. Lieutenant Tsree felt that nothing could be accomplished aside from turning the rioters against the Crown if the Defender unit at Blackwood tried to stop the riot.”
Blee’s neck-spines snapped out, as did several other nobles’ and a growl rose from the Council. “It is not in the interests of Drakon IV to allow common-born to rampage! They must be kept in their place!” Great Lord Schee-tak snarled.
“Might I remind my honored council fellows that Great Lord Zhi-king died espousing that very philosophy?” Lord Zlee-kae pointed out in a deadly quiet voice. Great Lord Kirlin gestured his agreement, as did several of the secondary Councilors. Rada released her grip on the hilt of her boot dagger as Blee and the others settled for the moment.
But only a moment. Prince Daetak shifted his weight restlessly and Rada thought she could feel
him debating something in his own mind. Then he spoke. “Perhaps a compromise, honored councilors?” The other nobles, even Zlee-kae and Kirlin, froze, completely shocked, as the prince suggested, “Perhaps we should invite the most responsible of the merchants to form a body secondary to the Planetary Council? I am thinking of something like the city councils of Zhangki City and Nightlast.” For three heartbeats the silence in the council was so complete that Rada felt as if she were in deep space. Then the Azdhagi nobles erupted, bellowing blasts of denial hot enough to singe her ear fur.
Ni Drako sat back and watched, trying to guess where Daetak had found that idea and how big his pair must be for him to broach it. Zabet would be leading the charge to the ballot box she shivered. Bookkeeper’s Tally, but he’s got guts. Not smarts, but guts. Amidst the commotion, snarls, bellows, thrashing tails and flicking spines, Rada caught King-Emperor Shar’s eye. She looked a question at him and tipped her head toward the door. He signaled his permission and she eased off of her cushion and slipped out of the room. I do not need to be in that shouting match! The council room was not big, in part to make it harder to draw a blade and then leap across the table and assault another council member, and all the motion made the room feel even smaller. Just now, Rada didn’t care to be in small rooms, even ones not packed with angry, sharp-taloned reptiles. She rubbed under her blind eye, massaging the itchy new scars. Poor Shar. I hope he can get them back under control. Maybe he’ll do what Shi-dan would have done—rip out the throat of the most intransigent offender, then ask if there is any interest in further debate. She snorted to herself, imagining the scene. No, he’d probably let the older reptiles blow off their steam at Daetak, then settle things down.
Just before the evening meal, Lord Ni Drako and Lord Zlee-kae traded blows, circling carefully on the sandy floor of the outdoor practice area. He swung down and across and Rada jumped the arcing blade before lunging for his exposed flank. His heavy tail hit her as he spun but she scored on him, using his blow to drive her blade’s edge across him in a nasty slash. The fighters allowed their momentum to separate them, then resumed circling. “You missed the excitement, Lord Defender,” Zlee-kae informed the mammal, his eyes narrowing as he dropped onto all four legs and charged her.
She sidestepped him, barely managing to sting his tail before he reversed. “How so, my lord?” She panted.
“His Imperial Majesty is young but determined. And very, very good with his talons and tail.” Now Zlee-kae backed as Rada charged him, feinting at his head. “After he reprimanded Taeshi, who’s clan Healer is good enough that he might not lose more than a third of his tail, the King-Emperor settled the councilors and tabled Daetak’s proposal.” As she processed his words, a Palace Guard cadet stuck his muzzle into the practice area and Rada turned and looked over to see what the soldier wanted. Taking advantage of the Lord Defender’s weakness and distraction, the noble rose onto his hind legs and pounced. The Wanderer registered the movement a fraction of a second before his weight smashed her to the ground, knocking the wind out of her. Zlee-kae didn’t crush the mammal, much.
“I deserved that,” she finally squeaked, accepting his forefoot to sit up once she got her breath back. He didn’t comment, being too interested in admiring the physique of the waiting cadet. “Not until he finishes training, my lord,” she hissed, noticing his attention.
The reptile’s tail slapped her in the ribs. “You presume too much, Ni Drako.” Zlee-kae’s tone lightened as he backed away and sheathed his blade. “Orange fruit is pretty but brown has a fuller taste, and I prefer well-bodied wines.”
Rada held her peace—she’d gotten her message across. Instead she clambered to her feet and went over to the wide-eyed cadet. “You have a message, Cadet Lea?”
“Um, ah, I mean yes, Lord Mammal! Lieutenant Kilsee commed from Whitevale and requests permission to move the dependents from two merchant families into the base for their protection.” The cadet recited the message as he stared at the sweat-drenched Wanderer and her unruffled opponent. Zlee-kae pretended not to have heard the smaller reptile.
Rada nodded curtly. “Thank you. You are dismissed.” Lea turned to go, caught himself and saluted, then trotted back indoors where it was warmer. Zlee-kae nodded to the Lord Defender, his eyes grave as he tapped the butt of the small blaster tucked into his swordbelt. Then he departed, leaving the mammal with a mess on her hands and a very sore back and head. Rada took a deep breath and wiped her face with one hand. It came away bloody and she hurried to her office. “Oh bugger,” she hissed at the mirror, watching drops of blood ooze from the corner of her bad eye.
After giving her approval for Lt. Kilsee’s idea, Rada took herself to the Healers’ chambers. Shay examined the eye carefully and then sat back on her haunches so she could wave a talon in admonition. “You burst a blood vessel, Lord Ni Drako. I warned you to protect that eye for another moon or two, did I not? Do you realize what will happen if that eye gets infected?” The irritated reptile dropped onto all four feet and stalked over to where she kept anti-bacterial preparations. “You will very likely go blind in the other eye. And then what will you do, my lord?” Tail swishing, she returned and handed the contrite mammal a small container with a mini sprayer attached. “Here. I had my assistant get this because I knew you would do something stupid, with all due respect. One shot twice a day until it is all gone and keep that eye protected! Am I clear, my lord?”
“Yes Healer Shay.” The penitent soldier accepted the prescription and promised to bring back the emptied container so it could be sterilized and put up for future use. As she left, she caught the sound of one of the younger Healers asking something to the effect of: are all males that stubborn? Rada only heard a loud snort, but she suspected that Shay was thinking an emphatic yes, even though Shay knew full well that Rada’s biology remained female despite the Lord Defender’s legal status as a male. The mammal got cleaned up, applied the first dose of medicine and ate supper, then stretched out on the sleeping platform and fell asleep instantly.
That was the last untroubled sleep Lord Ni Drako had for quite a while and over the moons that followed she frequently wished that she had not awoken at all. A crisis erupted the next day. Technically, the minutes of Planetary Council sessions were sealed by law, even from Councilors who were not in attendance at a particular session. No one without express permission from both the King-Emperor and a majority of the councilors could publish or speak of what was debated and decided at the meetings. What usually occurred was that at the end of the meeting, the councilors would take turns formally requesting the release of all or part of the minutes, and after brief discussion the release would be granted. Rada was quite surprised the next afternoon when the seldom-used secure council message box on her office desk chimed. It had been so long that it took her almost half a minute to remember how to answer the damn thing. “Commander Ni Drako.”
“Lord Ni Drako, come to the lesser throne room immediately.” That sounds very bad, she thought as she slung on her weapons belt and charged out of the office door, almost flattening an orderly in the process. For the first time in centuries, Rada ran through the palace corridors and the servants and others cleared her path as if the god of war himself were pacing the halls. The mammal skidded to a halt outside the lesser throne room, a bit out of breath. Apparently she was not the only one out of shape, because Great Lord Kirlin clattered up moments behind her, panting in his haste. The door opened and he hurried in, followed closely by the Lord Defender. The vizier, Lords Shu, Blee, Zlee-kae, Taeshi, and Prince Daetak were already there, and Rada heard talons on wood behind her as other council members trotted in.
Before anyone could ask what was going on, the door to the royal chambers opened and King-Emperor Shar stalked into the room, his neck spines rigid with fury. Oh fewmets, someone is about to die or wish they had, Rada thought as she sank to her knee while the others prostrated themselves. Shar’s grey-green eyes snapped with anger and his talons dug into the tiles at the ed
ge of the imperial dais. Instead of taking his seat, the King-Emperor stood beside it, studying his councilors. Then he rose onto his hind legs and carefully, slowly, walked down the steps to where the other reptiles and the mammal waited, still flat to the floor. Rada could almost smell the fear in the air and she wondered what had happened and whose blood would stain the dark wooden floor this time.
The King-Emperor took an eternity as he walked among the nobles, studying them intently. “Someone broke the oath of discretion and word of Our actions and of the decisions reached in yesterday’s council meeting has been spread abroad.” Shar stalked up the dais steps and took his place on the throne, gesturing with a forefoot for the others to rise. Rada and Zlee-kae were among the first on their feet. “This despite Our clear warning and Our refusal to release the council minutes,” the lean reptile continued. His voice remained as quiet and calm as if he were reading the menu for the Sunblessed banquet, Rada noted, and he held himself very still. Only the slight vibration of his steel-tipped spines and the fire in his eyes betrayed his anger. “It would seem that someone within the Council believes that he knows better than We what Our people should know of the recent deliberations and decisions and We—will—not—tolerate it!” Absolute silence followed his words and Rada noticed Lord Taeshi shaking a little. Well, the bandage on the end of what was left of his tail explained that.
Lord Shu gathered his nerve and spoke. “Imperial Majesty, what exactly was released?”
“Prince Daetak’s words about governing Drakon IV.” Instinctively, Rada glanced to Lord Zlee-kae. He met her look and made a tiny gesture of denial with the tip of his tail. It had not been him, then. Well, he’s not suicidal, just... sparkly. What is in the fabric of that robe, anyway? She dragged her wandering attention back where it belonged.