by Cara Bristol
With a deep breath for courage, she stepped from behind the statue. Straightening to her full height and throwing back her shoulders, she strode toward the sentries.
“Halt!” one of them ordered. “Identify yourself.”
“I am Anjot. Commander Qalin expects me.”
“You were reported to be ailing.” The other narrowed his eyes with suspicion.
“As you can see, I am in fine form. I took a brief respite after a long journey, and I find betas have spread rumors of illness.” She shook her head. “Their lack of discernment and discretion are key reasons why they are unsuitable for high status positions such as guard duty.”
Qalin’s sentries inflated before her eyes. “So true,” the taller of them said. “The son of Alpha Qalin did inquire about you,” he admitted, his expression turning apologetic. “But we must search you before you may enter.”
“Of course. I would not expect otherwise.” Anika stretched out her arms as she’d seen Urazi do, while the guard patted her down. She held her breath when he ran his hands over her chest for fear inhalation might thrust out her breasts.
A frown creased his forehead. “What is under your uniform shirt?”
She’d bound her mammary glands very tight, flattening them as much as she could with fabric extending from underarms to nearly her waist. Was he referring to the bindings? Or had he detected the lumpiness underneath? Urazi had warned her. Anika’s mouth dried, but she forced her words to sound bold and clear. “Bandages.”
“Bandages?”
She waved her hand in a desultory fashion. “A trifle. I was injured in a battle against former Commander Dak.”
The guard straightened. “It is an honor to meet one who fought on the righteous side of Alpha Qalin, but I must follow orders. Please raise your shirt.”
Her heartbeat pulsed in her throat as she grasped the hem and lifted the garment enough to show the edge of her binding.
He nodded and motioned she could drop the shirt. Next she removed and shook out her boots, hoping the knitting needle would not fall out.
The lining and her luck held.
“Honor to the brave.” The guards saluted and opened the doors.
Anika sauntered into the chamber then halted in awe. She was only remotely aware of the doors closing with a whisper of a snick as she took it all in. An enormous nave stretched before her, its floor and walls tiled in the palest, rarest marble. On both sides of the promenade, a colonnade rose to support a massive dome.
She tilted her head and stared at the concave carved ceiling insculpted with a single star. Carved between its points were scenes involving a lone warrior fighting a fierce foe to emerge victorious. The subject bore a striking resemblance to Qalin. This chamber was built to glorify him. It probably sits directly under the highest spire.
She gulped and scrutinized the rest of the chamber. Precious gemstones had been embedded in the floor the length of the nave. At its terminus, the bejeweled aisle widened in front of an upraised dais. In this expanded area, Urazi and Perce stood with their backs to her. Other than the three of them, the Chamber of Familiars was vacant. Qalin had not yet arrived.
Of course the Alpha would command an entrance. Fortunately for me. Exposed as I am, I would have been like sitting waterfowl.
In her hastily cobbled plan, she’d intended to march up to Urazi and Perce and declare her arrival, but the two males knelt and touched their foreheads to the floor and extended their arms overhead. She jettisoned her plan to join them, but instead cocked an ear to catch their conversation. Unfortunately, their murmurs were too low to hear. She needed to be closer. Anika darted from column to column to the front until she could make out their words.
“How long before Qalin arrives?” Urazi asked.
“I do not know,” Perce whispered back. “Alpha Qalin might arrive soon, or it could be hours.”
“Hours?” Urazi gasped.
“Shh now! We should not speak. We must remain silent until we are addressed. Remember what I told you.”
Anika pressed her spine to the pillar and slid to her haunches, hoping for Urazi’s and Perce’s sakes Qalin appeared soon. Though beautiful, the sharp facets of the jeweled mosaic floor could slice through skin. Kneeling would be uncomfortable even for a moderate period.
She hunkered down to wait, grateful she could sit on smooth marble, which, though hard, felt cool against her sore buttocks. Time passed, and although Urazi did not utter a sound, Perce began to fidget and groan.
Without warning, a clarion blast reverberated through the chamber. Anika leaped to her feet. Clapping her hands over her ears, she peeked out from behind the pillar. Under a trumpeting herald, an entourage filed into the room, clarionist leading, followed by two alpha guards, then two Veronian ones, and lastly, a couple of betas. They ascended the raised platform at the uttermost terminus of the nave and halted.
Next, two males carried in a chair and placed it on the dais, then stood with the others. Anika gawked. Chair could not describe the object. Wide enough to seat at least two people, it stood higher than the tallest male on the platform. Padded purple fabric covered the wooden seat and back support, the latter tapering to a spire topped by a single star. Telenium arms in a scrolling design curved toward the floor to form the front two legs.
The clarion player released another ear-splitting blast, before lowering the instrument and singing: “The valorous and honorable Commander Qalin, Alpha of Parseon.”
Of Parseon? Not just Province One? Did that mean what it sounded like? The war had ended? They had lost? Marlix, Ilian…overthrown? She slumped in shocked despair.
Even though Qalin had achieved a major victory in toppling Dak, deep down, she had not thought he would win all of Parseon. How could a bloc of two have defeated an alliance of three? Were Marlix—and Tara!—and Ilian still alive, or had Qalin and Artom executed them?
And what of Artom? If he and Qalin had joined in coalition, how could Qalin claim all of Parseon?
Moments later, Qalin strutted into chamber in a ceremonial dress such as she’d never seen. Dak and Ilian had worn formal uniforms to the wedding ceremony that anointed Tara to Marlix, but those garments bore scant resemblance to Qalin’s attire. A high collar framed his enormous head, then formed a cape that fell from his shoulders to sweep the floor. To each thigh, he had strapped a bejeweled sheath from which a gem-studded dagger hilt protruded. Armed. Knives within reach of each hand.
But he did not rely on his prowess to defend himself. The alpha and Veronian guards holstered not only daggers, but laser projectile devices. An individual would be struck dead instantly by an LPD beam.
Qalin wore the fair-weather uniform shirt version, but the edge that cut across his chest was adorned by what appeared to be medals of valor. Alphas sometimes bestowed such commendation upon guards who’d demonstrated exceptional bravery or fortitude, but since Qalin was Commander himself, and the High Council had been dissolved, there was no one higher than he to have bestowed the awards. Had he given them to himself?
“Glory to Commander Qalin, Alpha of Parseon!” chorised the entourage.
“Glory to Commander Qalin, Alpha of Parseon!” Perce cried.
“Gory to Commander Qalin…Alpha of Parseon!” Urazi’s voice rang out, but with a slight hesitation. Anika held her breath, waiting to see if Qalin noticed. He did not because, in a swirl of cape, he assumed his place on the chair. With a lazy twirl, he motioned with both hands, and the two betas scurried forward to sit at his feet, one on each side.
Two of his anointed ones? Or other betas from whom he demanded obeisance? These two seemed to give it willingly, gazing at him with adoration as he petted their heads. Qalin’s mouth twisted with indulgence, but the contrast of his smile with his grotesque face him made appear more sinister. The males behind him remained motionless, except for the Veronians who needed to breathe through their inhalers.
No one said a word, and a swell of tension clouded the chamber.
“Wh
o seeks to address me?” Qalin finally asked, managing to sound thunderous and bored at the same time.
Anika’s jaw dropped. Did Qalin not recognize his son? Wasn’t he expecting him? One always paid the deference due an Alpha, but she could not imagine Marlix or Dak engaging in such ceremony to meet with a member of his blood. An Alpha held great power and riches, but led a simple, almost austere existence without adornments or extravagant displays of wealth. They earned respect by their bravery and honor, not grandiose ritual.
Still in a prostrated bow, Perce called out, “I do—Perce, son of Qalin, Alpha of Parseon.”
“And I, Urazi, loyal subject of Qalin, Alpha of Parseon.”
She expected Qalin to grant them permission to rise, but the idea apparently did not occur to him, and he continued to caress his betas. Finally, after long moments, he said at last, “State your purpose.”
“If it may please Alpha, I will report the result of my travels,” Perce answered.
Qalin stopped petting long enough to wave. “Granted.” He resumed stroking, reminding Anika of the way one might dote on a domesticated feleen. But then his twisted smile broadened, and he drew back and struck one of the betas across the face.
Crack! Qalin hit him again. The other beta cringed, no doubt fearing similar treatment, but quickly masked his emotion under stoic impassiveness. The stricken beta righted himself and bowed his head. “I apologize for my lack, Commander,” he said in a tear-thickened voice.
“Take this one away and flog him,” Qalin ordered.
“No, please, Alpha, I beg for your mercy,” the beta cried when a gloved Veronian stepped forward to haul him away.
Qalin resumed petting the other beta. “It is okay,” he said, making cooing noises, his words and actions delivering a chilling message. I control your fate. I can indulge, or I can punish, but I will decide.
“What are you waiting for? Speak!” Qalin barked.
Bowed as they were, neither Perce or Urazi could have witnessed what had occurred, but they had heard the beating, Qalin’s order, and the beta’s plea. “I-I have good news about the female known as Anika….” Perce stammered. “I am pleased to announce she is d-dead.”
“Dead?” Qalin bellowed. The beta flinched as if expecting a blow. “What proof of this do you bring?”
“I s-saw it happen. Alpha Urazi witnessed her death, too.”
In confronting his sire, Perce had developed a stutter. It was fortunate Perce knelt because otherwise he could not have pulled off the ruse. His perfidious face was probably redder than Anika’s buttocks. While Marlix would have challenged the messenger face to face, Qalin’s demand for homage afforded his son a fighting chance for survival.
“Is this true?” the Alpha demanded.
“It is Commander,” Urazi answered for Perce, perhaps fearing, as Anika did, that Qalin would notice his son’s sudden speech impediment. “I saw it with my own eyes.”
“How did she die?” Qalin licked his lips and leaned forward. “Tell me.”
“Cachinna swarmed over the conveyance in which she was chained and startled the beasts. The driver lost control and plunged into the ravine,” Urazi explained. “There were no survivors.”
“Are you certain she was killed?”
“Y-yes,” Perce said.
“She was fatally injured,” Urazi said. “We watched as she died, pleading for help.”
“So she suffered.” Qalin leaned back and expelled a satisfied sigh. “Excellent. I would have preferred to watch her die, myself, but this is good news. Good news, indeed.” Another twisted smile distorted his features. “And what of the other breeders you were supposed to acquire?”
Urazi again answered for Perce. “He collected twenty-four.”
“Excellent. I shall try one tonight. I am eager to see if they are worthy, if they can produce alphas. You did well, my son. As your reward, you shall join me in my personal dining chambers for the evening meal.”
“T-thank you, Alpha,” Perce stuttered. How had he managed to survive for as long as he had? Could he make it through the meal without tripping up? If Perce betrayed himself, he would jeopardize them all.
Qalin rose to his feet and swept from the room the way he’d come. The two attendants leaped forward to remove the chair, and the entourage filed out in reverse order. When only the clarionist remained, he blew into his instrument and released another bugle to bounce off the high walls of the Chamber of Familiars. He marched out, and there was silence.
Except for the odd hitching noise.
“May we rise now?” Urazi queried in a hush.
Perce’s head bobbed. The noise continued, and Anika realized with shock he was weeping. Males did not cry. Ever.
Urazi scrambled to his feet, and then reached down and hauled Perce to his. Avoiding the alpha’s tear-streaked face, he feigned an interest in the architecture, tilting his head to stare at the domed ceiling. “That went well, I think,” he commented. “I could not see, but, by word and tone, Alpha Qalin sounded satisfied.”
Perce choked on a piteous sob.
“I feel humbled that Alpha of Parseon granted us audience. He must have many important concerns to attend to.” Urazi rubbed his knees and continued to speak in a conversational way, giving Perce time to compose himself. “Does he have a chamber for each function?”
Perce sobbed out an affirmative.
Urazi scanned the dais then riveted his attention upon the portal through which Qalin and his entourage had entered and exited. He narrowed his eyes. “I wonder who he will meet with next.”
“I h-h-have no way of knowing.”
Urazi sighed. This time he did look at Perce. “Why are you crying?”
“I am scared.”
He had reason to be afraid, but no alpha would ever admit to fear.
Urazi lifted his hand, hovered it over Perce’s shoulder, and then laid it to rest. He patted him awkwardly. “You accomplished what you set out to. Take hope. He said he was pleased.”
“I wish you and Anjot could accompany me to the evening meal.”
“I wish I could, too,” Urazi replied, omitting Anika. She glowered from behind the pillar and rubbed her sore buttocks. She’d been spanked for nothing! Qalin would not have known she was female if she had prostrated herself.
Except, as a result, she alone had seen him and could assess his defenses. If Urazi had permitted her to join them, they would not have that information.
But still.
“Alpha Qalin did not invite me,” Urazi continued. “You are his son.” He gave Perce’s shoulder two more pats. “Stop crying now. You will do fine,” he said in a voice seemingly buoyed by confidence. Urazi lied much better than Perce.
Perce scrubbed his eyes. “What if I slip up?”
“You will not because you will rise to the challenge. There is too much at stake to falter. Besides,” he added, “While I could not ascertain how many males there were, I could hear others around your sire. You and he will not be alone at the evening meal, correct?”
“That is true!” Perce bobbed his head, and he seemed to brighten. “His five anointed betas—well, four now—will be there, and possibly one or two others he has taken a fancy to. And he will be surrounded by guards, servers, dancers, and testers.”
“Testers?”
“Betas who taste his food to ensure it has not been tainted.”
“Wise,” Urazi said. Anika thought of the innocent beta who’d been arbitrarily beaten and flogged to prove a point. And now the food taster risked his life. Just residing within Qalin’s sphere of influence endangered one’s safety.
They could gain access, as today had proven, but getting within striking distance would be much harder. Anika combed her fingers through her shorn hair, noting it had grown. She would need to cut it again before someone noticed it was out of regulation.
“At the dinner, I will talk to my sire’s favored beta who has his ear. Perhaps, if I can arrange it, you would like to attend a meal with Alpha Qa
lin?”
“You would do that for me?” Urazi’s astonishment and gratitude sounded so genuine, he could have been an itinerant thespian, traveling from hamlet to hamlet entertaining villagers with his ardent performances. “You honor me.” Urazi dramatically clasped Perce’s shoulder in the Bridge of Amity. Perce beamed and returned the friendship gesture.
“Come,” Urazi beckoned. “Please show me the location of the dining chamber in the event Alpha Qalin smiles upon a lowly subject such as myself.”
“If I can get you an invitation, I will escort you,” Perce offered. “But I will give you a tour. Originally, my sire’s domicile was much more modest, but several years ago he commissioned the finest masons, craftsmen, and artists to transform it into a residence befitting one of his status.”
As they headed down the jeweled path, Anika ducked behind the pillar, uncertain how to proceed. If she revealed herself now, and Urazi dragged her to his private chamber to punish her, he would miss the tour of the domicile. Her observation of the Alpha’s defenses coupled with Urazi’s reconnaissance would enhance their chances of assassinating Qalin.
Better to get Urazi alone before she confessed her disobedience. Then she could better control how she told him. Her friend Tara used to say that when males became stubborn, it was better to dialog with the manhood rather than with the man.
That’s what she would do. Anika grinned. She would wait until night and talk to Urazi’s manhood.
Chapter Eighteen
Anika knocked once, and the door flew open.
“Where have you been?” Urazi growled, yanked her into his chamber and bolted the door. “I expected you to be here when I returned.” His normally smooth hair stood at all ends, like he had been abed, but he wore full uniform, including boots.
“You were gone a long time,” she prevaricated, “so I returned to my quarters in case somebody came looking for me.”
“I was looking for you. And you weren’t in your chamber.” His accusing glare demanded an explanation.
Drakor! Her plan was disintegrating.