“So Lezhu is keeping his people under tight control. Good for him. What about the others?”
“I have no more information, Majesty,” he said, taking a sip of his maush. He’d learned from previous audiences that K’hedduk got really mad if he didn’t make an attempt to drink the maush. “No others mentioned what they were doing. I do see that Geddash has a point, though. With most of his people in space, the chance of them being responsible for any insurrection is almost none. They don’t have the shore leave to be able to do it. And so far, all the raids have happened down here, none up in space on the stations. It’s easy to see why he thinks his troops are exempt from the checks the rest of us are carrying out.”
“He has a staff planetside as well who could be members of this Zsadhi group. By not checking them, he is putting us all at risk. Maybe I need to see who is not taking this threat seriously, not checking all his personnel. They have to have a base, somewhere they keep their leaflets, their paint, and whatever alien weapon they use to melt stone! I want that weapon, Nayash. What I could do with it against my enemies!”
“It sounds like it could be more of a personal weapon rather than the long-range weapons you would need to fight a war, Majesty. Close quarters combat should only be for mopping up after the main battle, either in space or the atmosphere.”
“You haven’t seen one of the sites of a raid yet, have you? The last two had no melted stone like the first one. Visit the chapel on Lord Rashal’s estate and see the damage for yourself. Go after you leave here, tell me what you think happened. I can compare it with the report that fool Nazhol gave me! He was convinced it was carried out by at least ten people! A group of four could have done that with the right equipment.”
Kusac got to his feet, relieved to be let off so lightly this visit. “I’ll not waste any time, Majesty. I’ll go now. I should have a report to hand in sometime tomorrow.”
“Yes, go now, but remember to keep your ears open to what the Generals and the Lords are doing.”
“Of course, Majesty. It is my privilege to serve you. May Long Life and Health be Yours!” Kusac bowed deeply before leaving the royal presence.
Prime world, same day
“My wedding wasn’t half as much of a fuss as this is being,” exclaimed Zhalmo, throwing herself into a comfy chair in despair.
“Your dress! It will be covered in creases!” Shishu rushed forward making little clucking noises of disapproval as she grasped her soon-to-be Queen by the hands and pulled her to her feet.
“I can’t stand any longer, Shishu,” said Zhalmo. “I’ve been standing for the past two hours, and almost all of yesterday while they fitted the dress on me! Now they want to make more adjustments to it! Enough, I say! It looks fine as it is!”
Doctor Zayshul looked her up and down critically, before walking around her. All the while, the dressmaker continued her litany of criticism, telling them that the skirt was still too long at the front, and the train needed another tuck at the back to make it hang to perfection and . . .
“That will be all, Takoul,” said Zayshul with finality. “You have surpassed yourself, the dress is perfection. There is no need for any alterations. You can go now.” She stopped in front of Zhalmo and reached out to gently squeeze her arm. “You look lovely, my dear. King Zsurtul will be so proud of you.”
Zhalmo felt the tension suddenly leave her body as she began to relax for the first time in days. “Thank you,” she said. “How long till the ceremony begins?”
Doctor Zayshul pulled her comm unit out of her dress pocket. “We should be heading to the robing room now,” she said, checking it and putting it away again. “The King will be waiting for you. Your father certainly is,” she laughed. “He’s been pacing the floor since he got up this morning.”
“Really?” she asked, smiling.
“Yes, really!” Zayshul linked arms with her daughter-in-law and led her to the door. “Shishu, please bring Mayza to the robing room, and make sure to bring that special cushion for the crown. Oh, and check that Shaidan is ready.”
“Yes, Doctor,” Shishu said, following them out.
* * *
“Remember, you are to take the crown on this cushion to King Zsurtul. Then you move back to where Doctor Zayshul, the General, and your uncle and I are standing,” said Kitra, reading the directions from a piece of paper as they cut behind the curtained off area of the Throne Room and entered the robing room.
“I won’t forget, Aunt Kitra,” he said, squirming as his uncle once again tugged at his white tunic, and adjusted the wide jewel-colored belt. “It’s fine, Uncle Dzaka,” he said, running his finger under the matching broad collar he wore. “It’s this necklace that’s cutting into me.”
Dzaka adjusted the fastening for him. “How’s that?”
“Much better, thanks.”
“It’s only for a few hours,” said Kitra sympathetically. “You can put up with it for that long, I’m sure.”
“Yes, Aunt Kitra.”
“Here comes Zhalmo,” said Dzaka .
Kitra moved through the small group of court officials to greet her and assure her that Shaidan was ready.
“It’s the waiting that’s getting to me,” said Zhalmo, kicking the train of her dress into obedience when it tried to wrap itself around her legs. “Damned dress won’t behave! I just wish it was all over! And it’s not just the ceremony, it’s the banquet afterward,” she said glumly.
“You look lovely. Once it all starts, the time will fly,” Kitra reassured her. “It did for my wedding. Not that this is your wedding,” she said, ears flattening slightly in embarrassment. “But it is your day, and you’ll find you enjoy it once it actually starts.”
“I know,” smiled Zhalmo, patting the younger female on the shoulder. “The fact it’s my coronation is more intimidating than if it had been my wedding!”
The quiet hum of conversations suddenly stilled as the young King entered. Around the room, everyone bowed in his direction.
“Please, rise up,” he said, addressing the court officials. “You should go into the Throne Room. They’re ready to begin the ceremonies.” He looked across the room at Zhalmo, smiling broadly as he saw her.
Self-consciously, she smoothed down the full skirts of her silver dress as he came straight to her side.
“You look wonderful,” he said quietly, taking hold of her hand and raising it to his lips as around them, the members of the court made their way into the Throne Room.
“And you look very much the King,” she said, looking up at the winged raptor crown that cupped his head. “I hadn’t realized the crown was so beautiful.”
“It’s also heavy,” he grimaced. “Your crown is much lighter and, I think, more beautiful—a real Queen’s crown. The Palace jewelers have outdone themselves.”
“I can’t wait to see it,” she said as he took her hand and they turned to face the doors into the Throne Room.
* * *
Trumpets sounded as the Chamberlain led the way into the Throne Room. The heavy drapes had been pulled back, and the two thrones had been moved from the back of the hall to just in front of the row of pillars.
The King’s throne with the large sunburst behind it was obviously prominent, but beside it now rested an altogether lighter and more modern Queen’s throne. Carved around the legs were young herd beasts and birds which were only now being released back into the wild. Fastened to the padded back of the throne in a silver metal, was a large lunar disk. Together, the two thrones spoke of rulers who cared about their people both day and night.
Dzaka and Kitra led Shaidan to the right of the thrones, joining Doctor Zayshul and her daughter Mayza. On the left side, Toueesut and his swarm stood almost still, beaming widely.
“I be saying that the silver material we gave them for the dress would be the best for the purpose of her coronation,” he said in a sta
ge whisper.
Kitra nodded and shushed him, putting her forefinger to her lips in the universal sign for silence.
The Chamberlain entered carrying the Queen’s crown on a green velvet cushion. On cue, Shaidan came forward to take it from him before retreating back to where his aunt and uncle stood.
Another court official, carrying an ornate book, stepped forward, looking at Mayza and her parents, waiting for the Doctor to bring her over to take the book from him. This accomplished, he stepped back into the throng of courtiers.
Shaidan watched as King Zsurtul and Zhalmo entered last, to another fanfare of trumpets. As the final notes died away, they took their places in front of the two thrones, facing the assembled members of the court and their honored guests.
“It’s with great pleasure,” the young King said, “that I bring before you my wife Zhalmo to be crowned as my Queen and coruler.”
Applause filled the Throne Room, and from outside, where the ceremony was being beamed to the people who filled the central courtyard, they could hear the cheering.
“I say coruler because I want her to share with me the day-to-day business of ruling this world, and returning it to the verdant planet it once was,”
More applause filled the room. Shaidan shifted his weight, and as the King’s speech droned on, he turned his attention to the crown he was carrying.
Made of platinum, the crown was indeed beautiful and light if the weight of it on the cushion was anything to go by. It was a circlet, about three inches wide, embossed with large raptor’s wings inlaid with precious stones of blue, turquoise, and orange. At the front, the same raptor head as on the King’s crown, reared up protectively. It was a real work of art.
Then his Aunt Kitra was digging him in the ribs to get his attention.
Startled, he looked up at her.
“Go on,” she whispered, gesturing him forward. “It’s time to give the crown to the King!”
“Oh! Right,” he said, mentally shaking his head and standing taller before moving slowly toward where Zhalmo now knelt before the King.
“I present to you, my undisputed wife, Queen Zhalmo. Are all of you gathered here willing to give her your service and reverence?” the King asked, his voice ringing out clearly.
“We are!” came the loud reply.
Shaidan, dipping his head forward in respect, held the green cushion out to King Zsurtul.
“Thank you, Shaidan,” the King whispered as he lifted the crown from its resting place.
Shaidan smiled, and clutching the cushion to his chest, backed off until he was standing beside his aunt and uncle.
“Will you take the oath of allegiance to K’oish’ik?”
“I will,” replied Zhalmo, looking up at her husband.
“Will you solemnly promise to help govern the people and lands of this great planet, according to the customs and laws that hold here?”
“I will,”
“Will you do your utmost to promote the religion of La’shol, the Goddess of all life and prosperity, and to further Her wishes to make this land once more green and fruitful?”
“I will do that,” she said.
“Then I crown you now in the sight of the Goddess and of my people here present, as Queen Zhalmo.”
Shaidan watched as solemnly, the crown was placed upon Zhalmo’s brow. This done, the King held out his hand to her.
“Arise, Queen Zhalmo!” he said.
Shaidan was happy to join in the shouting and cheering. When it had died down, the King spoke again.
“Let the Book of Records be brought forward so the Queen’s signature can join mine to attest to her coronation this day.”
Mayza trotted forward and stopped in front of the King to hand him the ornate book. Book in one hand, his wife’s hand in the other, Zsurtul led Zhalmo over to a prepared side table as Mayza made her way to her mother’s side.
There, the book was handed to General Kezule, who opened it and laid it down ready for the Queen. He took up a pen and handed it to her.
“The Book of Records is ready for you, Majesty,” he said, bowing deeply to the King and Queen as he handed his daughter the pen.
“Thank you, Father,” she said, taking it from him. Leaning forward, she signed the book with a flourish and handed the pen back to him.
The roar of the crowd outside was heard by them all, then the bells recently mounted on top of the Palace rang out their joyful carillon.
Taking his wife’s hand again, Zsurtul drew her arm through his and led her past the table to the small chapel and from there, to the Appearance window. The cheering grew even louder if possible as the inhabitants of the Palace of Light and the town outside it all voiced their delight.
A prod in his back made Shaidan turn round. M’Nar’s face smiled down at him.
“So how’s our young Queen maker enjoying himself?” the Brother asked.
“I’m not a Queen maker,” said Shaidan, raising his voice to be heard over the din of the bells and grinning up at him. “Just a helper for the Queen.”
“You did a grand job today, youngling,” said M’Nar, reaching out to pat him on the head. “Who’d have thought we’d see this from inside the Palace!”
“I certainly didn’t,” said Jerenn.
“Does this mean you’ll be at the banquet, too?” asked Shaidan.
“I guess so,” said Jerenn.
“Of course it does!” said M’Nar, ears dancing back and forth. “A state banquet has got to have better rations than ours!”
“Hey! You eat the same food as we do now,” said Shaidan. “It’s pretty good.”
“Only joking,” said M’Nar as Kitra shot him a stern glance. “Yes, Sister Kitra, we’ll be quiet now,” he said, grabbing Jerenn and melting into the nearest group of courtiers.
Shaidan chuckled quietly to himself as he heard Jerenn say, “I wasn’t the loud one! You’re always getting us into scrapes, M’Nar!”
Kitra gave a melodramatic sigh. “With them, it’s like having two big brothers around. Ones that are always getting into mischief. Now stand up straight, Shaidan. When they come back from their appearance, then we’ll be following them into the audience hall where the banquet will be held.”
“Where will my brothers and sisters eat?” he asked. “We’re not all eating with the grown-ups, are we?”
“The others are eating in the anteroom with Shishu and several other people. King Zsurtul was very definite that he wanted you and Mayza—and Gaylla—to dine with us.”
Shaidan grinned in pleasure. “Gaylla will be pleased. She can’t always be involved in what I do, and she knows that, but it’s nice when she can.”
“Brother Jerenn and Brother M’Nar can sit with you two,” said Kitra, keeping a straight face. “About time they helped Gaylla during a meal.”
“Yes, Aunt Kitra.”
CHAPTER 6
Prime world, Palace of Light, same evening
TAKING a couple of deep breaths, Shaidan lowered his center of gravity and fixed his eyes on M’Nar’s, his arms about shoulder width apart. Though his eyes were focused on his opponent’s, he was also paying close attention to the older male’s body language.
Suddenly, M’Nar passed the knife from one hand to the other, the move quick and fluid. Shaidan knew better than to follow it with his eyes and instead kept focused on the other’s face. Again the quick flick of the hands, this time accompanied by a sudden lunge toward him.
At the last moment Shaidan pivoted on one heel, slapping his right arm down across M’Nar’s outstretched right forearm while letting his back slam into the other’s chest. From that position, he grasped M’Nar’s forearm as his other hand instantly went to grab for his thumb. Having caught it, he pulled it back to almost breaking point, then stopped.
“I’m patting your side, Shaidan,” said M’Na
r in a strained voice.
“Oh, sorry!” exclaimed the cub, hurriedly letting him go.
“Well done, Shaidan,” said Jerenn, looking at the others. “That’s how you need to do it. Remember, watch the face but be aware of all central core body movements because often an attacker’s eyes give him or her away just before they move. They’ll look in the direction they are going to move a fraction of a second before they do. Now pair off. Shaidan, you take Gaylla. See if you can help her out with her moves.”
“A little too enthusiastic,” muttered M’Nar to Jerenn, flexing his thumb. “But he got it right.”
“He always gets it right,” said Jerenn. “They’re all coming along very well. Teaching them a series of responses to set situations was a brainwave, M’Nar. It fits in with the patterns of movement they need to know, yet gives them ways to defend against all kinds of assaults right now.”
“You’d have come up with it, too,” said M’Nar, “in a week or two!” He skipped out of the way of the humorous cuff aimed at his ears.
“So what’s next for our youngling? Are you ready to let him learn to throw knives now?”
“Yes, I’m ready. He’s managed to sharpen that old set of knives I gave him, so all we need now is a where and a when that we can’t get caught.”
I know the perfect place, sent Shaidan. There’s a hidden ruin to the north side of the Palace, the place K’hedduk hid his spaceship when he was here. It’s like an underground warehouse. It has lighting and is all concrete inside.
They both picked it up loud and clear despite neither of them being an actual telepath. Like all Brothers and Sisters, they had a sensitivity, an extra sense that helped them excel at their work, like a danger sense or a form of empathy, like Jerenn and M’Nar.
“Sounds good,” said M’Nar quietly, knowing Shaidan would pick it up as if he’d sent it telepathically.
The cubs carried on practicing that move for another ten minutes before swapping over to each take the turn as the knife wielder.
That done, they got Shaidan out again to demonstrate a new move.
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