The Exxar Chronicles: Book 01 - The Erayan

by Neal Jones

  "Father, I have good news. I have found a woman whom I have asked to marry me. You are only the third to know, and I'm presenting her at dinner tonight. I wanted you to be present, but Dakkahr's right. You're much too frail, and you wouldn't understand what was happening anyway." Erengaar forced a smirk as he looked into his father's eyes. "Her name is Larewyn, and she's of the House of Tannit. They are one of the less noble bloodlines, but these are dark times for our people. Larewyn will bear me many children, and our bloodline will not be lost."

  Erengaar's voice became desperate as he let go of Emkai's hands and seized the sides of the wrinkled mask. He gripped his father's head and forced the dying man to turn his face to the light. "Look at me, father! Tell me that we have not become beggars to our own demise! Tell me that this alliance will not end the glory of the empire! Have I inherited only a wasteland? Tell me!"

  But only a whimper escaped Emkai's lips, and the eyeholes of the mask gazed upon nothing. Erengaar let go of the frayed costume, pushing back as he jerked to his feet and his expression became a snarl as he looked upon his progenitor. "I want to feel some form of pity for you, but I think you have only received what you deserved. I only pray that I haven't inherited the damnation of your sins."

  As Erengaar turned to leave, his father's hand suddenly clamped on his wrist, and the lord prince nearly cried out. The lord emperor was looking up at his son with a new fire in his eyes, and it took all his effort to force out the words that he believed his son needed to hear.

  "Too...late." The effort caused a fit of violent coughing, and Emkai was forced to let go of his son. He reached within his robes for his handkerchief, while a single talon pressed the intercom button on the inside panel of his armrest. A pair of servants rushed into the room, and Erengaar shoved past them, forcing himself not to run.

  ( 3 )

  Like the throne room and the senate chamber, the walls of the supper hall of the imperial palace were adorned with colorful tapestries that stretched floor to ceiling, and there was always one in particular that caught Vatra's eye whenever she stepped into the wide hall. She'd forgotten long ago the historical significance of that particular battle scene, but there was one warrior whose eyes seemed to follow her wherever she walked, wherever she sat. The hall was reserved for ceremonies and special occasions, and Vatra always made sure that her seatback was facing the cloth soldier. Tonight, however, as she stepped across the threshold, her gaze was fixed on Sierik instead, and her thoughts were consumed with the reasons behind tonight's impromptu celebration. Among the other guests were First Lovar Prakra, a handful of senators – including Eril Koden and Jolan Nejra – and the Lady Empress Ildirale. Prakra was the current head of the Emperium's armed forces, and he wasn't doing a very good job of hiding his discomfort. Whether it was due to the formality of the evening or something else, Vatra couldn't say. She grabbed a glass of wine from the tray of a passing servant and began weaving her way to her cousin.

  Sierik smiled as she approached, and he ended his conversation with Broen before Vatra could hear the details. "Cousin. A pleasure as normal."

  "To you, as well." Vatra raised her glass in a toast and they both drank. "I don't suppose that you have any notion of what this" - she waived her hand to indicate the hall and its formally dressed denizens - "is all about."

  "I was hoping that you would enlighten me."

  Vatra's mouth tightened as she sipped her wine, but she smoothed the frustration from her expression as she nodded to Prakra, who was making small talk with one of the senators. "It must be the upcoming invasion. How many days are left? Seven? Six?"

  "Six."

  The lady princess nodded. "Erengaar has decided to throw an impromptu dinner party in honor of the victory."

  "Yes," Sierik murmured. "You keep telling yourself that." As desperate as he was to learn the truth, he enjoyed seeing his cousin squirm. It made her all the more attractive, and he stepped closer to her, lowering his voice when he spoke. "We could slip out through the servant's entrance and be back before the chief master calls everyone to the table."

  On any other night Vatra would have been more than happy to indulge herself, but she was watching her stepmother. Ildirale was looking more pale than usual, and she could barely muster a smile as she greeted each guest that passed. "Not now, Sierik. After dinner, yes."

  Before Sierik could reply, the chief master appeared at the rear of the hall and pressed a button on a hidden com panel. A chorus of ceremonial chimes rang through the chamber, interrupting the murmured buzz of the varied conversations and calling everyone to the stone table. As part of the royal family, Vatra was close to the head, across from the chair where her half-brother would sit. Ildirale took her seat at the head of the table, next to the vacant chair that would have normally held Emkai. Once the two women were seated, the remainder of the guests followed suit, and everyone glanced at one another with curious expressions, wondering why Erengaar had not yet shown himself.

  It was then that Vatra noticed the double doors that served as the primary entrance to the hall were closed. The pair of palace guards, which were standing to either side, now stepped forward and opened them, and another melody of chimes played from hidden speakers, echoing among the arched rafters. All those seated around the emperor's table stood as one, and faced the sight of Erengaar standing next to a young woman. Her right hand was clasped in his left, and as he led her to her seat, a ripple of astonishment and curiosity arose from the guests. Vatra wanted to be as shocked as the others, but all she felt was a cold comfort in having her suspicions confirmed. No wonder her brother was tired of her. He had been hiding a girl who was barely out of her morning years, at least a full decade younger than the lord prince.

  The royal couple stood behind their chairs, and Erengaar savored their expressions for several moments before introducing his bride-to-be. "Thank you, everyone, for coming. It's my pleasure to introduce Larewyn, of the House Tannit. She has accepted my proposal of marriage, and I have arranged a private ceremony to be held in five days, on the eve of our invasion of the Federation." He paused once more, noting the barely disguised contempt radiating from his sister. "Everyone sit. Let us drink and make merry, for we have much to celebrate!"

  The guests and family obeyed, but Vatra discovered her appetite had vanished. Dakkahr was the first to congratulate the engagement, and he stood to make his toast. The servants appeared with trays of steaming dishes and pitchers of fresh wine. Plates and glasses were filled, new conversations begun, yet no one could keep from stealing glances at the future lady empress. She said nothing, ate little, and looked as terrified as a tree mouse in a cage full of snow tigers. At least she's got the good sense to be afraid, Vatra thought smugly.

  "Is the oldok not to your liking?" Sierik murmured.

  "It's fine. Delicious, in fact."

  "How do you know? You haven't eaten any yet. You can interrogate the newcomer later."

  The table was wide enough and the conversation around them loud enough to enable the cousins to speak without being heard. Vatra took two forkfuls of the creamy pasta, then nearly spit up. It was overcooked and not spicy enough. The lady princess took a gulp of wine then motioned to the chief master.

  "Take this back immediately and throw it out! All of it! Tell the cook to make another dish, and if I'm not satisfied, he will eat every last bite until he vomits it in my presence! Is that clear?"

  "Yes, m'lady."

  The chief master scurried away, and the guests were now looking at Vatra. She looked at Erengaar and Larewyn.

  "My apologies, brother. I didn't mean to spoil your party, but oldok is so easy to prepare. There's no excuse for serving us an inferior dish."

  "You should be more merciful, sister."

  "Indeed," Ildirale snapped. "I thought my serving was cooked perfectly."

  "Age has spoiled your tongue," Vatra retorted. "I think we need music. You!" She jabbed a finger at the closest servant. "Pick something from the library. From the classic
al period. Something festive."

  "Yes, m'lady." He scampered to the nearest com terminal and inputted the commands. The boisterous clamor of a forty-piece orchestra filled the hall, and the servant adjusted the volume to a comfortable level.

  "That's better." Vatra took another sip of her wine, then motioned for a steward to refill the glass.

  "Lady princess, where is your son?" This was not Eril Koden's first opportunity to dine at this table, and he always enjoyed the spectacle of royalty.

  "He's with one of his friends in the gymnasium. Jharek has become fascinated with the sport of Skelperi in these last few months. I can barely tear him away long enough to have his daily sessions with his tutor."

  A ripple of laughter swam among the guests, and Jolan drank his wine to hide his scowl. He had lost count the number of times there'd been a seat reserved for him at this table, and each visit grew more and more uncomfortable. Thanks to his grandfather, the Nejra bloodline – which had been among the lowest in the empire - was now one of the noblest, and the senator cast a quick glance towards the ceiling. The banner of his house hung with the other nineteen that comprised the royal court of the Emperium. The conversation was now centered around Skelperi, and Jolan resumed his dining, lest his lack of appetite attract the attention of the lord prince.

  After the third course, Erengaar stood and raised his glass. The music was paused, and the guests instantly fell silent, waiting somberly for their future lord emperor to speak. "My fellow Jha'Drok, we stand on the threshold of a new era, a new empire. In six days, we will launch our assault against the Interstellar Federation of Peace, and while the battle will be long and arduous, we will emerge victorious. Jolan, I raise my glass to you. Your grandfather's statue is complete and will be erected in the Hexagon on the morning of our assault." He paused, and it took Nejra a second to realize that Erengaar was waiting for a response.

  Jolan raised his glass. "I am honored, lord prince."

  Erengaar raised his cup higher. "Victory is life! Honor unto death!"

  "Honor unto death," echoed the guests, and all drank.

  A new music track began, and this time there were two dozen exotic dancers to join in the merriment. They were Inepole, from one of the oldest member worlds of the Emperium, and renowned for their theatrical art shows which often involved a minimum of a hundred dancers and acrobats, as well as technological special effects that dazzled even the most experienced engineers. Lord Emperor Emkai had never cared for such frivolity, but Erengaar had made it a point to include them at every dinner party and special occasion where a celebration was warranted. The lord prince laughed and applauded at all the right times, and his future wife joined him in his merriment, yet she was still doing a poor job of hiding her anxiety and nervousness.

  By the time the dessert course arrived, Vatra was more than a little inebriated, as was Sierik and Erengaar, but Ildirale and Larewyn had barely touched their wine. The lady empress ate only two bites of her spice cake before rising and begging her leave of the lord prince.

  "This has been a lovely evening, Erengaar, but the hour is late and I wish to return to my husband."

  For just a moment, there was a flash of bitterness and rage in her son's eyes, but he waved his hand. "Yes. Go. Leave my hall."

  "Thank you, lord prince." Ildirale bowed, then turned to her guests. They all stood out of respect, except for Erengaar, and she smiled weakly. "Enjoy the rest of your evening, ladies and gentlemen. Good health to you all."

  Murmured goodbyes echoed after her as she walked stiffly out of the hall, and as soon as everyone was seated, Erengaar called for more wine. Then he ordered the servants to clear the table and have it moved to one side, though that wasn't necessary since there was plenty of room on all sides of the hall, and the number of guests was less than three dozen. Once the center of the floor was cleared, Erengaar requested a servant to change the music and he extended a hand to his betrothed. Larewyn reached out and grasped it, and the pair danced a classical waltz in a large circle formed by the audience.

  As Vatra observed the display, she felt the urge to vomit, and it was all she could do to keep down her wine. She knew it was ridiculous to want something that one could never obtain, but she had allowed herself to fall for the fantasy. Erengaar had initiated their illicit affair, but that was all it was for him. Vatra, however, had deluded herself into believing that she could change his mind, that he would want her and no one else, and that they could make their relationship public sooner or later. Given the current crisis within the empire, their marriage would have been accepted eventually, and her son would be heir to the throne.

  But none of that was possible, not after tonight. Vatra was twelve years older than her brother, and he had grown tired of her, the same way that a child eventually loses interest in a new toy. And because of the medical complications inflicting a third of the empire's women, the lord prince would no doubt be taking more than one wife, yet none of them would be Vatra, and she could no longer control her wine. She turned and fled through the nearest doorway, down the hall and into the bathroom. She vomited the roast isv, the bread pudding and the oldok, the dish she had demanded be remade. As she washed her face and hands, she stared at her reflection, reminding herself of her bloodline and her heritage. She was a lady princess, daughter of the lord emperor and nothing would change that. Erengaar may have tired of their affair, but he would not deliver her unto the same fate that Emkai had delivered unto her mother. Lady Empress Thrayph had conspired with other members of the palace and royal family to overthrow her husband and bring the House of Struld into full control of the throne. Vatra had only been two years old at the time, and Emkai had chosen to show mercy to his daughter. Erengaar would do the same because she was his half-sister. He had played the role of surrogate father to Jharek, Vatra's son, and nothing would change that. Nothing will change, Vatra repeated to herself as she left the bathroom, and when she returned to the party, she demanded more wine.

  ( 4 )

  It was very late by the time Vatra returned to her private quarters. The nursemaid stood as the lady empress entered.

  "Jharek is asleep."

  "Thank you, K'ilnt. Goodnight."

  Vatra walked to her son's door and peeked in. He was curled on his side, his mop of brown hair tangled about his face, his sheets also in disarray. She walked to his bedside and smoothed back his hair, then straightened the linens and tucked them tighter around him. He was going to be tall, like his father. Tiegran Inehl had been a junior senator when his marriage to Vatra had been arranged. That was only twelve years ago, and the lady princess hadn't had a say in the matter. The lord emperor felt the union was just and honorable, and that was enough. Jharek had been born just over a year later, and he was three when his father was assassinated by the Drigald during his visit to one of the outer colonies. Tiegran had been one of the more outspoken senators regarding the Drigald, and his passionate denouncement of them and their actions, as well as his fervor in his support of the monarchy, had made him a prime target.

  Vatra sighed as she stood and walked out of Jharek's room, closing the door gently behind her. When she had received the news of her husband's death, she had felt only relief, though she couldn't really say why. He had never beat her, never abused her in any way. Quite the opposite, in fact. He doted on his wife and son, lavishing them both with gifts and pleasures that only great wealth can buy. And yet, there was an air of formality surrounding all of his attention and affection, as though he was putting on a show for the royal family. There was also a hint of earnestness – perhaps desperation – lurking beneath his theatrics. Everyone in the royal family knew that Vatra deserved better, that while the House of Inehl was one of the nobler, it wasn't among the noblest. Emkai could have done far better in his selection of a suitor for his only daughter, but it was obvious to Vatra that he was punishing her for her mother's betrayal. He wanted to be sure that she would always be aware of her place within the royal family, and that her son wou
ld never be in line for the throne.

  The lady princess smiled to herself, wondering if the lord emperor was now regretting not choosing another husband for her in the wake of Tiegran's death. By that point, Emkai had been suffering from Adp's Syndrome for three years and had already begun to show signs of dementia and memory loss. Doctor Rimshar had predicted that he wouldn't last another two years, three at most. That was ten years ago, and still the bastard didn't possess the dignity and decency to just die already. What could he possibly have to cling to? Vatra should have poisoned him back when he had first proposed a marriage to Tiegran, but she'd been too afraid then, too timid and weak. My son will sit on that throne before his twenty-fifth birthday, she vowed silently. My brother will accept me, or he will suffer the same fate as my late husband. It was almost enough to make her laugh, except for the headache that was beginning to pulse at her temples, and she decided it was time for a cup of tea and then bed.

  Vatra entered her bedchamber and pressed the command on her comm terminal that connected her to the palace kitchen. "Please bring me a cup of tea and some honey bread."

  "Yes, m'lady."

  She removed her gown and selected something more comfortable from her closet, then reclined in the chair behind her desk that occupied the opposite side of the room as her bed. The private quarters of the royal family were located at the inner core of the palace, for security purposes, so there were no windows to offer a calming vista of the palace gardens or the night sky. Instead, entire sections of the walls were outfitted with holoscreens, which could display anything from the computer's database, including exterior shots of the gardens or the sky as uploaded by the outer security nets. Vatra keyed a command into her terminal, and she was suddenly surrounded by scenes of the tropical beaches on Otur, one of the premier resort colonies of the Emperium. She adjusted the setting to twilight, then keyed in the soundtrack. A pleasing murmur of the ocean lapping against the sand, with the occasional interjection of the sweyr's mating call, soothed Vatra's nerves and eased her hangover. She closed her eyes and imagined she was someone else, with no ties to the royal family and no son whose future might be threatened one day by Erengaar or his offspring.