She was Swiala's only blood kin, and very much the image of Lady Swiala herself as a young girl.
Adalginza smiled prettily as her grandmother fondly sorted through boxes filled with memorabilia from old glory days of modeling and public appearances.
She passively cooperated when Swiala insisted that her granddaughter's allegiance be formally changed from the Fifth House to the First House.
Adalginza said nothing in protest when Lady Swiala assigned a swarm of servants to manage the younger woman's hair and wardrobe, keeping her dressed as befitted a fine Lady of the House of the First Crescent Moon. Most especially, a lady with indigo eyes.
As her malaise deepened, Adalginza ignored Umbrea's many pleas for her to consider returning home to the frontier.
"But Lady Adalginza, The Prophecy says you must go back to your own people." Umbrea dared to whisper this to Adalginza, in a rare moment of privacy when she brought tea to the sleep room. "This must happen, if the people of the tribes are to be saved."
Adalginza simply smiled indulgently in answer.
"You are wrong. I am not she of The Prophecy."
"Then who could you possibly be?"
"It matters not. My place now is with my grandmother, for as long as she lives."
"And when she dies?"
"I will inherit all that she has. I will stay here, on the Prime Continent, to take her place."
"But you no longer ride the sturmons. You no longer talk to the animals."
"That was my old life. This is my new life. Don't you see? I have everything I need."
Adalginza was sometimes aware of Calasta, who watched her anxiously from a distance. But she rarely spoke to the child or asked for her services.
She knew only that Calasta was now a source of painful memories, from which she needed to distance herself.
In the meantime, Benfaaro's child had formed a close bond with Umbrea. The two often were seen in each other's company, whispering together or laughing out loud. The servant, true to her word, carefully guarded Calasta's wellbeing.
This, too, was as it should be.
Were Benfaaro's spies still out there? Adalginza did not care even about that. She was safe, surrounded as she was by the servants. More importantly, everyone else was safe from her.
The life she was living now could not possibly cause anyone anywhere any unhappiness at all. She was free of all expectations, except for the harmless demands of Lady Swiala.
Adalginza attended gatherings of the royal court, in the company of her proud grandmother who dressed up her stunning granddaughter in the proper masque of the First House.
She wore the finest clothing representing the very latest in fashion. At Swiala's request, Adalginza began modeling these same fashions until she became the star in showings by celebrated designers.
At some point, Adalginza was aware that the whisperings about her had begun to change.
She was the envy now of all the women of the royal courts of the Nine Crescent Houses.
She was docile and beautiful and compliant in every way. Her mysterious past added to the allure of what she now represented.
Adalginza's smile was elusive, her manner cool. She was image, not person. And she accepted her persona gratefully, hiding deep within it as surely as rodents hid in holes.
Some part of her grieved for Kalos, and for the simple life she once had lived in the frontier. But she was able to relegate that part of her to a dark place in her mind, where she vowed no light would ever shine again.
Even the wanderings in the night had ceased. She instead slept often, day and night.
She had completely shut off her mind to the voices of the outside creatures surrounding her. And when mindspeak threatened to intrude, Adalginza would sing softly to herself to channel her thoughts elsewhere.
But when her grandmother insisted that Adalginza begin accompanying her to sessions in the Great Hall of the Prime Congress, disturbed waters sometimes churned beneath the serenity Adalginza was determined to maintain.
She usually sat quietly by Lady Swiala's side. And when her grandmother stood to speak, she would nod approvingly at the eloquent dissertations on different subjects such as the damage done to prospects of peace by Lady Sagawea's latest publication.
Swiala's gift of persuasion was great. She condemned the lies contained within Sagawea's document as an abomination to both the teachings of Medosa and to the complexities of the tribal way of life.
The eloquent lady noted that the gnostic, Ginrel, had only recently released an objective and truly scholarly work that more accurately reflected Medosa's experiences with the savages who deserved understanding.
She pointed out that Adalginza herself as a most honored Lady of the House of the Fifth Crescent Moon, and now an esteemed and celebrated lady of the First House, had assisted with these very writings.
Swiala insisted that the savages should be granted rights similar to the citizens of the Crescent Houses, only with separate status. No voting rights, of course. Savages were, after all, inferior to the people of the Crescent Houses.
But Swiala argued that peace could be achieved by including within these generous rights the ownership of property, so that savages could have territory that they exclusively could call their own.
The citizens of the Crescent Houses then could populate the remainder of the frontier without opposition.
Adalginza nodded in agreement, sometimes standing to add a demure voice that simply echoed what her grandmother already had so forcefully stated.
Granted, some of Lady Swiala's speeches sounded terribly simplistic. Sometimes she displayed a shocking lack of knowledge about the frontier, because she had never actually been there.
But Adalginza assured herself that, by supporting her grandmother, she was helping the tribes of the frontier in an understated way. She could be redeemed for past crimes against humanity, and still preserve her own safety and sanity.
Perhaps this was what The Prophecy intended. If The Prophecy could be believed at all.
And then, one day, during a particularly wearisome and long session of the Prime Congress, Kalos appeared. Lady Sagawea accompanied him, and she was now huge with child.
Adalginza pretended not to notice, though she could hear the murmurs behind her.
Was the captain married to Lady Adalginza still? If so, why was he with the oh-so-pregnant Lady Sagawea? Wasn't the lady of the Ninth House once his lover? Was she still? Was he the father? Was this not a most delicious scandal?
Somehow, across the dozens of rows of bench seatings in the orators' section that separated them, her eyes met the captain's.
Adalginza watched Kalos without expression, determined to maintain the frigid cold she felt inside at the sight of him.
Good. She had locked her heart safely away. There was no way he could hurt her now. Or she him.
Lady Swiala reached over, and briefly squeezed her granddaughter's hand.
"Courage," she whispered.
"I am fine," Adalginza lied.
She smiled prettily in the captain's direction and for the benefit of all the curious eyes that now gaped at them both.
The parliamentarian of Congress then stood, and made an announcement:
"Captain Kalos has arrived from the frontier..."
His words were followed by polite, extended applause.
So her husband had also found time to visit the frontier since she had last seen him at Sagawea's estate? Had it been that long?
Adalginza realized, with a small start, that it had indeed been more than a half season since she last had laid eyes on her husband.
"...and he has a most grave announcement."
Captain Kalos stepped up on the podium, and in only a few short sentences explained what had transpired. Simply stated, the major southwest coastal settlement of Dinta Ruj had been attacked in the frontier.
Fortifications had failed, and only a few survivors had managed to flee to the safety of Sola Re. Sola Re was now
the only significant Crescent settlement left in the frontier, other than a few well-fortified military posts.
"Because of the lack of support from the Prime Congress, and the unending debates resulting in stalemate, we have lost a crucial settlement as well as many more lives," Kalos said. "Because you have not seen fit to provide the additional soldiers and armament we continually requested, we offer an alternative plan."
The parliamentarian interrupted at this point, his tone indicating that he had taken offense at the harsh criticism.
"Captain Kalos, I remind you that our success at warfare in the frontier has been limited at best in these past few seasons. We have not yet seen the rationale for sending more of our knights to be lost, nor do most of our private citizens have a wish to be slaughtered and maimed in futile attempts at settlement."
"Then you are handing Benfaaro a victory that will serve only to increase his bloodlust," Kalos answered crisply. "Even the islands and our own shores are now at risk. Trust me when I say the enemy wastes no time on debate about the right and wrong of killing Crescent House citizens. They are brutal and without mercy."
This time, it was Lady Swiala who stood to answer.
"If memory serves me correctly, Captain Kalos, it was our own Crescent knights who first brutalized the savages."
"This is ancient history which cannot be rewritten!" Kalos snapped. "We must live with the present truth. If Benfaaro is not stopped now, he will continue to grow in strength until he takes over the Prime Continent itself."
This declaration created murmurs of alarm among spectators seated in the galleries of the Great Hall. In response, Lady Swiala stepped onto her own podium.
"Captain Kalos, it is beneath you to create unnecessary hysteria. I say the savages are not a threat to us, as long as we treat them humanely."
Lady Sagawea then pushed her way beside Kalos to answer.
"Is this why Benfaaro has now targeted our trading ships? Is this why he has taken control of two of our islands, and murdered the peaceful Crescent House citizens who lived there? Because he is no threat?"
"And meanwhile we ourselves maintain our own armed strongholds within the frontier. Can this not be, in turn, seen as a threat?" Swiala retorted. "My point is this. Who will be the first to speak of peace? Or will these matters escalate until none of us are safe in our own abodes?"
The parliamentarian held up one hand. "Regardless of the opposition expressed here, Captain Kalos, you have our full attention. You spoke of a plan?"
Kalos and Lady Sagawea exchanged a brief look of triumph before the captain spoke.
"As some of you know, Lady Sagawea and I were sequestered at her estate for some time."
At the murmurings of speculation that greeted this declaration, he glared around the room. Then he allowed his eyes to linger a few extra moments on Adalginza before continuing.
"Solely for the purpose of consulting with the many great scholars who gather there, attending classes at the School of Minds that Lady Sagawea has worked so diligently to establish. Lady, would you like to address the congregation?"
Kalos stepped aside to make room for Sagawea on the podium.
Moving a bit awkwardly with the advanced state of her pregnancy, Sagawea smiled warmly at Kalos before turning to face the Congress.
"With the cooperation and expertise of many of the greatest thinkers of all the Crescent Houses, we have developed a new weapon."
The murmurings in the Great Hall now increased in volume, and Sagawea paused briefly for effect.
"It is a weapon so powerful that it will help us fortify our own defenses on the Prime Continent. This weapon, in fact, will give us a decisive victory on the high seas — and, ultimately, in the frontier."
A collective gasp could be heard throughout the chambers.
In the hushed silence that followed, both Kalos and Lady Sagawea alternated commentary to explain how they had gathered many scholars together near the Dome of Archives to search the scrolls for clues about the Ancients and their methods of waging warfare.
After the passing of many eves, a crumpled piece of parchment discovered in an overlooked, rusty iron box appeared to contain the information they sought. It was an intricate formula for a weapon developed from alchemy.
The formula itself was described in an elaborate code created from what at first appeared to be nonsensical mathematical equations.
The most brilliant of the scholars gathered at Lady Sagawea's School of Minds then were delegated the task of cracking the code. It was an arduous undertaking, but finally the mission was accomplished. And the formula was revealed.
Kalos and Sagawea then proudly told of how those same scholars had learned to convert the volatile, chemically mixed powder used for amusement in aerial fireworks displays into a substance capable of creating powerful explosions.
The energy from these contained explosions, in turn, could hurtle canisters of many shapes and sizes at great distances. And this would be the method of attack.
It was at this point that Lady Swiala rose slowly to her feet and stepped onto the podium.
"Mr. Parliamentarian, I invoke my right to interrogate."
"Yes, Lady Swiala. But remember your time is limited. And we are all eager to hear more about this weapon."
Swiala's expression was gravely serious as she addressed the delegates.
"In the history classes of our many schools of the minds, we are taught one unifying truth regarding the origin of our civilization. The Ancients divided themselves into the Houses of the Nine Crescent Moons to ensure our survival. Individual rules of conduct were established for each House. This was done to recognize the diversity of the different clans. And to find a way to live together in peace and mutual prosperity."
"I hear no question in this interrogation," Captain Kalos answered quietly.
"Very well then. Are we not violating the most sacred codes of the Crescent Houses by creating a weapon capable of such widespread destruction?"
"Not at all," Lady Sagawea replied soothingly. "This weapon will never be used by those of the Crescent Houses against each other. By our own laws, any offender would be immediately executed."
"And what about the savages?" Lady Swiala asked. "What about their rights?"
It was Captain Kalos who answered, and his words sent a chill through Adalginza's heart.
"They are not members of the Crescent Houses. They are not entitled to protection under our laws. Nor were they ever acknowledged by the Ancients. And they do not have the right to exist, unless they accept our terms of surrender."
Lady Swiala was about to speak again, when the parliamentarian waved her into silence.
"Your time is up. Please sit. Lady Sagawea, you may now complete your explanation. What exactly is this weapon you speak of?"
Lady Sagawea paused to peer around the gallery, as though to acknowledge each member of the Prime Congress personally.
"It is an acid so corrosive that it dissolves anything it contacts upon release from a specially coated substance. After only a few moments of exposure to air or water, it becomes neutralized and harmless."
Kalos then spoke up. "We have developed a variety of delivery systems to maximize its effectiveness. Allow us to demonstrate."
At a gesture from Kalos, two Crescent knights pulled open the huge, double wooden doors that slid sideways on giant rollers. This provided the delegates inside with an expansive view of the outside world.
A walgoat with a long, stringy beard could be seen tethered in the open expanse of green, cultivated lawn. In the far distance, a small contingent of robed scholars rolled into place a contraption on wheels that resembled a giant, metallic ant.
The blissfully ignorant animal grazed peacefully.
Kalos raised his Crescent sword high above his head. And at the dropping of the sword, a distant thunder could be heard — the same thunder that had so disturbed Adalginza on her trip to the Dome of Archives.
Flame from the device's long snout spew
ed forth a rounded globule that grew larger at such an accelerated speed it caused the orators and delegates within the gallery to run, screaming, for cover.
The globule then burst into tiny pellets that rained down on the animal.
Adalginza stayed frozen in her own chair.
She could not deflect the mindspeak from the walgoat, as it was covered with the droplets. Death was too slow. And while it screamed in agony, Adalginza felt its demise as though her own flesh was being eaten.
She placed both hands to the sides of her head as she felt the deep, scorching burns. Over and over again, she shrieked the goat's distress.
In its final release, all that was left of the animal was a smoking, charred mass of gore and bone.
13
Because of the commotion caused by the weapon, Adalginza's screams had gone unnoticed.
Those who had fled began creeping out of hiding places to crowd onto the balcony for a closer view of the desecrated, smoking body below them.
Adalginza remained seated as she stared unbelievingly at Kalos. He looked back at her. And, for the moment, it was as though they were the only two people in the room.
"Look away!" It was Lady Swiala who broke the spell as she slid into the empty space beside Adalginza. "That man is not worthy of your attention."
Finally, still chattering, the occupants of the Great Hall began to make their way back to their seats. Even Lady Sagawea had run for cover. She now smoothed her clothing as she rejoined Kalos where he was standing at the podium.
When all were settled again, Kalos spoke once more.
"We have twenty-seven of these weapons, built atop mobile platforms with wheels. In this way, they can easily be moved to lay siege."
Alarmingly enough, the murmurs in the room that greeted his announcement now sounded like approval.
"You see the advantages," Kalos continued. "Our casualties will be greatly reduced because our knights will not be forced to engage in combat at close range. Nor will we need experienced troops to have an advantage. The savages can no longer hide from us, because this weapon will penetrate stone. It will penetrate earth. It can be hidden within the villages and triggered to explode. Our enemy has no chance against us. They will surrender or they will die."
Ten Crescent Moons (Moonquest) Page 26