Too Close to the Sun (The Sun 1)

by Popp, Robin T.

  “Thank you,” she said sincerely.

  “Listen, the fight will start soon. I spoke to the High Counsel and he agreed to bend the rules and allow you and Mr. Snellen to be present during the fight. But An’jel, you cannot interfere. If you do, you’ll be thrown out. That was the best I could do.”

  The rules stated that only the High Counsel, the members of the Quorum and the fighters could be present. She had been dreading the long wait to hear the results of the fight. She wasn’t sure now whether she could handle watching it, but she’d rather be there with Nicoli in some capacity, than sitting around waiting. She threw her arms around Rianol and hugged him. “Thank you.”

  Rianol hesitated before awkwardly hugging her back. She wondered why he'd never married. Growing up, she'd thought if she had to marry someone, she'd wanted it to be Rianol because he never treated her as anything less than an equal.

  "Thank you for distracting me," she told him sincerely.

  “I just want you to know that I’m here for you, if you need anything,” he whispered in her ear.

  * * * * *

  At high noon, the chimes from the large clock sounded, resonating off the walls of the High Counsel’s chamber and marking the commencement of The Challenge. Emptied of all furniture, the large rug on the floor had been removed to reveal blood red tiles set among the darker ones, forming a large circle. Within this circle, Victor and Nicoli stood, facing one another. The High Counsel and members of the Quorum lined the back wall while Yanur, Angel and Katrina stood together off to the side. Across the room, Rianol stood alone.

  Victor and Nicoli wore form-hugging black pants. Neither shirts nor shoes were allowed, to avoid the possibility of concealed weapons. If the situation weren’t so grave, Angel might have enjoyed the high level of testosterone on display. The scene was reminiscent of the slave auction back on the Harvesters’ planet.

  She and Nicoli had not talked prior to the fight. He had seemed preoccupied, with good reason, and she’d been loath to break his concentration with something as trivial as her feelings. When they had arrived at the chamber, he’d nodded to Yanur and given her a kiss. With a whispered “this won’t take long” and a wink, he’d walked confidently into the ring to meet Victor.

  Angel’s over-strung nerves virtually buzzed with tension when the High Counsel stepped into the ring. “This fight is for the title of Counsel-elect and for the Right of Claim for my granddaughter, An’jel ToRrenc. Once the fight begins, it will not end until one of the contestants lies dead. Does either party wish to forfeit?”

  Both Victor and Nicoli shook their heads.

  “Very well. Let the fight begin.”

  The High Counsel stepped quickly from the ring, as if expecting both men to lunge, but neither did. Like dancers, they moved in tandem, circling but always opposite one another; each sizing up the other. When Victor’s face moved into view, Angel saw his predatory smile and her heart grew cold with fear.

  Then Victor lunged, his blade arcing down. Nicoli blocked the blow and parried with one of his own - but Victor recovered quickly and brought his weapon up to block.

  It continued in this manner - lunge and parry, lunge and parry – each blow coming harder and faster than the one before.

  Victor was breathing hard and his smug smile slipped into a frown.

  Nicoli was obviously the better blade-man. For the first time since The Challenge was issued, Angel felt a spark of hope. Maybe there could be a happy ending for her and Nicoli after all.

  Nicoli drew first blood when the tip of his blade connected with Victor’s upper arm, slicing into it. Victor stared at the wound in horror, as if for the first time realizing he might be the one killed today. Now fighting for his life, his thrusts grew wild and desperate. Heedless of wasting energy, he swung his blade faster and faster, trying to beat Nicoli down. Nicoli raised his blade to block the blows, but the impact drove them out of the circle, toward the side where Angel and Yanur stood watching.

  Both men had sustained numerous cuts and blood flowed freely down their bodies, painting a grim picture of impending death. Victor labored for every breath he took and even Nicoli sounded winded. As the men tired, the blows came less quickly. Finally, the wait between each thrust grew so long that when Victor next raised his blade, Nicoli stepped closer and slammed his fist into the other man’s face. Victor’s head snapped back and he crumpled to the floor.

  Angel held her breath as she waited for Nicoli to deliver the killing blow, but it didn’t come.

  “I have won,” he announced. “There is no need to kill this man to prove myself.”

  “You must kill him or the fight is not finished,” the High Counsel shouted back.

  “I refuse.”

  Nicoli gave Victor a final look, then lowered his blade, turned and walked toward Angel. Too elated to remain standing, she ran to him, throwing herself into his arms, unconcerned about the blood.

  “I told you to have a little faith in me,” he whispered before kissing her. Then he let her go so he could shake hands with Yanur.

  Standing to the side of Nicoli, Angel caught a flash of movement from the corner of her eye. She turned in time to see Victor charging forward, his warring blade leveled at her.

  Though her mind screamed to move, her body refused.

  Her body automatically tensed. She was going to die.

  The attack never came.

  Victor stood before her, frozen in place, a look of shocked disbelief on his face. He was looking down at his stomach and Angel followed his gaze.

  From his stomach protruded a blade, Nicoli's blade. For the second time, he crumpled to the ground. This time, he didn't get back up.

  Angel turned to Nicoli but her relief turned sour in her stomach when she saw that Victor’s blade had found its mark.

  Grunting in pain, Nicoli pulled the blade from his stomach and dropped it to the ground as his legs buckled and he fell to his knees. Angel wrapped her arms around him, trying to ease his fall to the floor.

  Someone screamed, over and over. Belatedly, she realized it was her and managed to turn her screams into whimpers as she leaned over Nicoli.

  Her hands hovered around his wound, unsure what to do. It was Yanur who pulled off his shirt and used it to staunch the flow of blood.

  When he looked at her, it was to shake his head slightly.

  “No. You’re wrong,” she sobbed, laying her hand against Nicoli's face. “Hang on, love. You’ll be okay.”

  Nicoli’s eyelids fluttered open. He seemed to have trouble focusing on her, but managed a weak smile. “My Angel,” he whispered.

  Her smile felt wobbly through her tears.

  “Victor?” He asked.

  “Dead.”

  “Good. Then you are safe.” He coughed and blood trickled from the corner of his mouth. Angel quickly wiped it away with the corner of her shirt.

  “Shush, my love, don’t talk. Save your energy. We’ll talk later.”

  “Both know this is the end.” She heard the blood gurgling in his lungs, making speech difficult. “Funny. Spent my life, looking for death.” He coughed, struggling to clear his lungs. When he spoke again, his voice sounded much weaker. “Now, when I finally have a reason to live, death finds me.” He raised an unsteady hand to wipe away the tears streaming down her cheek. “Wanted to spend my whole life with you. Not enough time. Want you to know...I love you, Angel. Never doubt that I love you... more than life itself.”

  Releasing one last shuddering breath, his arm dropped to his side and he fell quiet. Angel sat in shock, unable to believe he was gone. How could he be dead? This was the love she had searched for her entire life. What cruel fate would rob her of him so soon?

  Overcome by grief, her head fell forward and the tears fell unceasingly. She didn’t even notice when her mother led her from the room.

  Chapter 29

  Three days following Nicoli’s death, Angel emerged from the black hole that had become her life. Having fallen into such sorr
ow and despair, she wondered that the emotions didn’t kill her. At her lowest moment, she prayed they would, wanting to be with Nicoli in any way she could.

  During that time, her mother slipped in and out of the room, bringing food that went untouched, and sleeping pills that had to be rationed, lest she succumb to temptation and swallow too many. She cried until her swollen eyes were incapable of producing moisture, and then cried some more. Finally she fell into a deep sleep and when she awoke, she knew it was time to move on.

  Her world had ended, but her life had not. Though she’d toyed with the notion of killing herself, it wasn’t in her nature. She was a fighter and would survive whether she liked it or not.

  She brushed her hair and held a rag soaked in cold water against her face in an attempt to reduce the swelling around her eyes. Her efforts proved unsuccessful.

  Finally, she left her room and headed for the kitchen. She wasn’t hungry, but knew on some basic level she must eat. It was late morning and the kitchen was full of workers. Some were clearing away the last remains of breakfast while others started preparations for the noon meal. When she entered, they ceased their activities to stare, making her feel self-conscious.

  She stood, facing the looks of curiosity, sympathy and pity, unsure how to handle them. When Sorrah walked into the kitchen from the other doorway, there was no sympathy or pity in the look she gave Angel. Raw hatred and anger shone from the servant's red, swollen eyes. Any other time, Angel might have confronted the woman, but not now. She knew all too well what it felt like to lose someone you loved, as she was sure now that Sorrah had loved Victor.

  Angel abandoned all thoughts of eating and left the kitchen to go to her mother’s room. She found it empty. Yanur’s room was vacant as well and somewhere in the fog of the last couple of days, she remembered her mother saying that Yanur had taken Nicoli’s body and left the planet. A part of her didn’t blame him for leaving, though she wished he’d at least have said “good-bye.” She would miss him, but maybe it was better this way.

  After spending so many days in her room, the thought of returning to it was inconceivable, so she walked outside with intentions of becoming hopelessly lost in the maze. It was there that Rianol found her a short time later.

  “Am I intruding?”

  “No.”

  She walked over to one of the benches placed along the path of the maze. Sitting, she gestured for him to join her.

  Sitting in companionable silence, she tilted her head back, letting the warmth of the two suns wash over her face. The sky shone a crystal blue and somewhere nearby, birds chirped their staccato songs. Time seemed to hold still and Angel felt a momentary peacefulness settle over her. It was the kind of day that used to leave her thinking it was a good day to be alive.

  The irony stung.

  “Life’s funny,” she observed. “Sometimes it seems that no matter how hard or fast I run, it’s never hard or fast enough, you know? I spent most of my life trying to get away from here - and now, here I am, right back where I started. And when I finally find the one thing I was looking for…”

  Her throat grew too tight to speak and tears welled up in her eyes. She blinked rapidly to clear them. She would not cry; though when Rianol put his arm around her shoulder to offer comfort, she didn’t pull away.

  “I’m sorry,” he told her. “I’m sorry it turned out like this.”

  “I'm sorry, too. I know Victor was your friend.”

  They fell silent, listening to the leaves on the bushes rustle in the gentle, warm breeze. Noises from the palace drifted to them, then faded. Angel thought if she held very still and quiet, the rest of the world and all of its horrible realities might vanish from existence, at least for a little while.

  She wasn’t sure how long they sat there before Rianol broke the silence.

  “What will you do now?”

  “I don’t know. I hadn’t thought about it.”

  “You could leave.”

  She raised her head to look at him. “You mean the planet?”

  He gave her a weak smile. “I’ll help you. I’ll find a ship for you, but you’ll need to leave soon, An’jel. Your grandfather isn’t going to sit around and mourn Victor’s loss. If I know him, he’s already lining up the next counsel-elect. In another couple of days, you’ll be married again.”

  “Oh, God.” He was right. The knowledge was a galactic wake-up call. She couldn't stay here.

  Nicoli was dead. Nothing would change that, so she should leave, go back to Earth – to Dugan and Skeeter's. She could become a courier again. She’d take her mother with her. Maybe they'd try to find Yanur. Her mother would like that, wouldn't she? They could all start a new life together.

  No. She'd run away once. She wasn't running away again.

  If she had learned nothing else from Nicoli, she had at least learned that she couldn't run from her problems.

  Aware that Rianol was still waiting for an answer, she shook her head. “No, I’m not leaving. Somehow I have to find a way to change thing, make them better.”

  Rianol looked at her, uncertainty in his eyes. “Then I have a suggestion, but I’m not sure if you’ll like it.”

  Angel raised her eyebrows, encouraging him to continue.

  “Marry me.” He held up his hand to stall her protest. “I know you don’t love me. I don’t love you either, but we’re fond of one another and I think we’d suit each other well. Well enough to rule a planet together. The way it’s supposed to be done. I’m offering you a marriage of convenience, An’jel - and protection from your grandfather. As the High Consort, you will rule by my side, as my equal.”

  To her surprise, Angel found herself considering his offer. “What about my grandfather? He won't go for it."

  “No. That’s why we marry without his permission.”

  “How?”

  “We sleep together.”

  “What?” Angel stared at him in surprise. There was no way she was going to sleep with him. “No, I’m sorry. I just don’t think I can. Not this soon. Maybe not ever.”

  Rianol shook his head. "I'm not explaining myself well, I'm sorry. I'm not suggesting we have sex. I'm only suggesting we tell people we did.” He hurried on before she could protest. "You see according to the ancient laws, a man and woman who have consummated their relationship and publicly proclaim themselves to be man and wife, are by law considered to be married. It’s called the Rite of Consummation.”

  Angel frowned. “It seems too easy.”

  “As long as no one stakes a prior claim, your grandfather will be forced to recognize us as husband and wife.”

  “But what’s to stop my grandfather from initiating another Challenge fight?”

  Rianol shook his head. “The Quorum won’t go for it. The only reason they agreed before was because your grandfather convinced them we couldn’t have an off-worlder as High Counsel. He can’t use that argument with me. Besides, the members of the Quorum like me. It won’t be a problem.”

  Angel took a deep breath. Things were moving too quickly for her. “When do you propose we do this?”

  He looked at her as if he’d already thrown a lot at her and didn’t want to press his luck. “Tonight.”

  “No!” Nicoli had just died. She couldn't do it tonight.

  “Okay, tomorrow then. The sooner we do it, An'jel, the safer you’ll be.” He took her hand in his. "Even now, your grandfather is arranging your marriage."

  Angel knew he was right. "Okay, we can do it tonight.”

  He stood, pulling her to her feet. “If you change your mind, I'll understand, but if you still want to go through with this plan, then come to my room tonight after the suns have set.” She nodded. "Everything will work out fine. You’ll see.” He leaned over to press a chaste kiss to her cheek.

  Angel mentally shied away from the contact. It didn’t feel right. Maybe it never would.

  She continued to sit in the maze long after he left. She thought about everything that had happened and abou
t what she was going to do. There were so many reasons not to marry Rianol, not the least of which was she didn't love him. The chance to sabotage her grandfather's plan and perhaps bring peace and happiness to the people of Scyphor, however, was too important.

  Finally, when her stomach started growling, she wandered back to the kitchen. Maybe now that she had a plan of action, her stomach would settle down and she could eat.

  It was after the midday meal and the kitchen was empty. Preparations for the evening meal wouldn’t begin for another hour or so. Angel walked in, glad to have the place to herself. She gathered the makings for an old-fashioned sandwich and was cutting the bread when her grandfather walked in.

  “What are you doing here?” She muttered.

  “I was looking for you.” He walked to the far side of the table and sat down facing her. “I thought you would have left by now. Run away.”

  “Well I didn’t.” She set the bread aside for later and picked up the meat, placing it on the cutting board where she began cutting it. “Would you mind telling me why you killed my husband?”

  “I didn’t. The fight was fair.”

  “Bullshit.”

  He looked at her, eyebrows raised.

  She shook her head, feeling defeated. “Why were you so against Nicoli? He would have made a great leader. He wasn’t afraid to stand up and do what was right. Did you feel threatened?”

  “Victor issued The Challenge, not I.”

  “Don’t.” Angel stabbed the knife into the cutting board. “Don’t even pretend you had no control over what happened. You and I both know the truth. You didn’t want Nicoli as your successor because he was better than you. A better leader. A better man. A better everything.”

  “You shouldn’t speak to me with such disrespect,” the High Counsel warned. “I am still the ruler of this House. And your grandfather.”

  “You have to earn respect.” She slapped pieces of meat onto her bread. When her sandwich was done, she looked up to find her grandfather studying her.