The Empire of the Zon

by R. M. Burgess

  He looked at her expectantly, his question unsaid. She colored.

  “My mother wears the royal tiara of d’Orr,” she said, defensively. “She is Zon perfection come to life. She is beautiful, a peerless warrior, fearless in battle, wise in politics, and a loving mother who leads by example.”

  She tapped her wrist bracer and projected a hologram of Princess Deirdre, dressed in her official uniform as First Principal, the d’Orr tiara sparkling in her hair. Both Greghar and Nitya looked at it.

  “Your mother is indeed beautiful,” said Greghar gravely. But Princess Ice is not as beautiful as you, he thought.

  Caitlin went on, speaking more to herself now than to him.

  “All my life I have tried to live up to her example and her expectations, to be a worthy heiress to the d’Orr tiara. I have tried, Ma knows I have tried. But no matter how hard I try, somehow I always find new ways to fail her.”

  Nitya rode up and touched her arm gently.

  “You are good of heart, Lady Caitlin,” she said, almost inaudibly. “They are blind who cannot see your virtues.”

  “This is not the time for goodness, little one,” Caitlin said fiercely, tapping her wrist bracer to close the hologram. “The Ostracis Citadel is sacked by King Shobar’s Skull Watch! All day and all night I have listened to the piteous cries of my sisters, violated and butchered by Utrean scum. And instead of doing my duty, leading a squad into battle against these barbarians, I am…I am…”

  She was overcome with a sudden fit of stuttering, and as her mouth worked, she sprayed spittle but could not form words. Greghar pretended not to notice.

  They had reached a boundary where the forest gave way to a clearing. In front of them was a large snow-covered meadow that sloped down to a creek. There was a small village on the creek, surrounded by a wooden stockade. It was twilight. The fires were lit, and smoke curled into the skies.

  Greghar pointed.

  “There is Grenhall,” he said simply. “My boyhood home. We will spend the night here with my old nurse, Aghari. She will help us get some supplies for our journey to the Draigynys.”

  They rode down the slope toward the village. They were still at a distance when they were hailed from the guard tower set into the stockade. There were half a dozen men in the tower now, and they all had loaded crossbows.

  “Who approaches Grenhall as night falls?” came the call.

  “Weary travelers, seeking rest for the night,” called back Greghar.

  “Ride on,” came the response. “There is no welcome in Grenhall for strangers.”

  “I am related to Aghari, your nurse and medicine woman,” Greghar called back. “Bring her to the tower; she will recognize me.”

  This brought about confusion in the guard tower. Finally they got a response.

  “Wait there.”

  Fifteen minutes passed before a slight figure swathed in furs slowly climbed into the tower and peered out at them. Greghar rode forward till he was nearly under the tower. Aghari’s round face broke into a smile as she saw him.

  “He is my kinsman,” she said warmly to the guards. “Open the gates, and let him and his companions in.”

  DIANA WENT TO her bedroll with the screams from Ostracis ringing in her ears. She tossed and turned and could not sleep. The comm can sometimes be just too vivid, she thought. She recognized the barbarian banners on the scratchy bits of video that came through the comm. It was Shobar’s Skull Watch. He had sent his best men, which was cold comfort. The myth of Zon invincibility was broken, and it could never be recreated.

  She longed for sleep to block out the horrific sounds and images, but when it finally came, it provided no relief. It was filled with terrible dreams in which she was forced to witness scene after scene of her sisters being raped and tortured, and her body was frozen into inactivity. She struggled and raged, but try as she might, she could do nothing to save them.

  When she finally was able to move and draw Light, the elderly man of her youthful hallucination on Beacon Peak appeared between her and her violated sisters. His expression was mocking and he knocked Light out of her hands with one contemptuous stroke. Helpless, she watched his blade swing towards her. Just as it was about to strike, she snapped awake and sat bolt upright. It was almost daybreak. While she did not feel particularly rested, she was thankful to be released from her nightmares.

  It was a wintry dawn, but it was not particularly cold for Utrea at this time of year. They had crossed the border through a minor pass two days previously, led by Greghar, who seemed to know the country intimately. Both the small stone border fort on the Utrean side as well as the timber and earthworks emplacement on the Brigon side were deserted, though both contained signs of recent occupation. These small border passes were rarely garrisoned in the winter, since the authorities on both sides knew that snow and ice would soon make them impassable.

  Diana yawned and stretched like a cat, tapping her wrist bracer to lower her temperature shield from the warmer degree she had set the previous night. She pulled on her boots and made a quick circuit of the camp, exchanging a word with each of the sentries to satisfy herself that they were awake and alert. Going down to a nearby stream, she completed her morning toilette and returned to the center of the camp. One of the Maidens was already up, stirring a pot of katsch on a small fire. Diana seated herself beside her and was immediately offered a steaming mug. She blew on it and sipped appreciatively.

  Durga joined them a few moments later. She took the mug she was offered and brushed her hair back, revealing her facial tattoo. It gave her a distinctly hostile look, even when she smiled her thanks. She seated herself by Diana. The mood was subdued. They were all still in shock over the previous day’s graphic sounds and images from Ostracis.

  “I served with Praefecta Laksa when I first graduated from the Academy,” said Durga without looking up from her mug. “She commanded the Pentheselia then. She inspected our squad when we were on maneuvers south of High Crag. Our seignora was quaking in her boots. Old Laksa, she didn’t miss a thing. She sized us up in an instant, each one of us. ‘That was nice shooting yesterday, Officia,’ she said to me. I don’t know how she picked me out of the hundreds in the mock battle. But it made me so proud.”

  “I remember, in those maneuvers she shattered her left arm in an airboat accident,” Diana reminisced. “I was on the airship when a med-evac brought her in. Her arm was such a mess, the seignora of the deck almost fainted away. But Praefecta Laksa, except for the tightness of her jaw, you wouldn’t have known she was in agony. She just said to me, ‘I guess I’ll have even more metal in me when they fix this.’ She deserved better than this.”

  “It was bad video from her wrist bracer,” Durga said grimly. “But I could still see enough to recognize those cowardly vultures gathered around her as she lay dying. Diana, you are my witness, I swear before Ma that I will hunt down each and every one of those vermin and castrate them before I roast them to death, very slowly. And Nestar Crogus…” She balled her fist, bunching the muscles of her arm. “He is mine!”

  Diana nodded.

  “We are in Utrea, Durga. I am sure we will find plenty of Shobar’s men to practice on.”

  Just then Diana’s comm channel pinged—it was Alex, thousands of meters above in the airboat.

  “Speak,” said Diana tersely.

  “Cornelle, the Utrean light cavalry and Greghar’s group are proceeding in different directions. Greghar began moving before dawn, heading north-northwest, away from the cavalry group’s northeastern line of movement.”

  “Thank you, Alex,” said Diana, regaining her calm. “Maintain your surveillance. I’ll call you back in a few moments.”

  She cut the channel and turned to Durga.

  “I think the time has come to deal with these twenty troopers from Shobar’s Skull Watch,” she said, her tone rigid. “We have the tracking chip on Greghar; we can pick up his trail whenever we like.”

  Durga was still not used to receiving o
rders, but she held her tongue and waited. Diana opened a comm channel to Alex again and nodded to Durga, indicating that her words were for both of them.

  “Alex, the Utreans are encamped further up this valley to our north. Let them break camp and begin moving. Then debark your squad in front of them. Use the heavy ’grator on the airboat and the squad’s medium ’grators to drive them back toward to the position Durga and I hold up here, below the pass. Don’t kill or hurt anyone. I want them all taken, alive and unharmed.”

  “I hear and obey,” said Alex before Diana cut the channel.

  Diana turned to Durga, rubbing her hands.

  “We have some time, Durga. Get your Maidens to lay out coals and set up the stakes and bindings.” Durga nodded and issued the necessary commands.

  Diana’s plan worked like clockwork. When Alex’s huntresses galloped at the Utreans, supported by the airboat overhead, the troopers’ surprise was total. The huntresses advanced, firing carefully aimed ’grator blasts to fell trees, raise clouds of earth, and throw up flying rock fragments. The Utreans broke ranks and were herded up the valley on the rising ground toward the position where Diana and Durga awaited them. At this point they suddenly found themselves fired on from both directions and were brought up short, milling around in confusion. Their captain shouted orders to form up, but he was unable to stem the panic.

  Diana drew her laser pistol and rode out into the open. She switched her helmet communicator to megaphone mode. Her Utrish was as good as her Brigish. Her lilting Zon accent was not strong, and her words were very clear.

  “We want you all to steady your mounts and dismount. Smack your horses’ rumps to get them out of the way. Then throw all your weapons on the ground in front of me. Don’t try anything foolish.” She pointed up at the hovering airboat, whose heavy ’grator was pointed squarely at them. “We can vaporize all of you with one blast from the airboat. Is that clear?”

  Caught between the two forces of mounted Zon and the airboat overhead, the Utreans subsided into a buzz of mutterings, but obeyed. Soon there was a pile of swords, daggers, bows, arrows, and other arms between them and Diana, Durga, and the Maidens. Now afoot and unarmed, they eyed the huntresses’ leveled ’grators apprehensively.

  Diana surveyed the crowded mass of Utreans grimly. Her long experience stood her in good stead—she located the captain by his higher quality clothing and bearing, though he wore no badges of rank. Without warning her zircon lasso whirled through the air, and he found himself ensnared. Backing her horse quickly, she pulled him off his feet and dragged him out of his surrounding troopers, who parted with murmurs of fear. She pulled him about twenty meters from the milling group and stopped. He raised himself erect again with difficulty, since his arms where still pinioned to his sides by the lasso.

  “What is your name, savage?” Diana demanded. “And point out your corporals.”

  Unlike most of the other troopers, he was still defiant.

  “I will tell you nothing! Others may call you Lady Death, but to me you are just a Zon bitch!”

  Diana smiled.

  “You will obey me, or your men will pay.”

  To underline her point, she jacked up the power on her laser pistol and vaporized the hand of one of the younger troopers. He was just a boy, the one who had boasted of the smiles he had received from Talia, the wife of Cheval Horus in Upper Thal. He began to howl with the pain, clinging to his wrist with his good hand. He looked unbelievingly at where his other hand had been. The captain’s expression changed rapidly to a mixture of rage and concern. His powerful muscles knotted under the unbreakable zircon lasso, as the trooper’s howls subsided into whimpers.

  “You are evil, Lady Death,” he rasped. “I will tell you what you want. I am Margun of Louth, a junior captain in the Skull Watch, loyal to Shabor, King of Utrea. I will point out my three corporals.”

  He proceeded to do so, and they were quickly lassoed and brought up to join him by Durga and her Maidens. Diana now holstered her laser pistol and hung her ’grator on her pommel by its strap. She dismounted, leaving her horse, Hikon, to hold the lasso binding Margun.

  She walked up to the four bound Utreans and said, “The Skull Watch! The pride of King Shobar’s army! You men are feared throughout the land. You terrorize the populace and prey upon the weak and vulnerable. And now your comrades have seen fit to visit pain and suffering upon our aged and frail.”

  The four looked on in stoic silence. Diana drew Light and hefted it with a two-handed grip. She poked the chest of one of the corporals and drew a trickle of blood. She made slow circles with the bloodstained blade.

  “Lady Death, you are very brave attacking bound men with your weapons,” said Margun scornfully. “Turn me loose, and I will make you my woman.”

  He made a hole with the forefinger and thumb of his left hand and thrust his right forefinger through it a few times.

  “I see,” said Diana evenly. “I would very much like that. I like a savage with spirit.”

  With that she returned to her horse and took up her round stainless steel shield. As she began to loosen the zircon lasso to release Margun, Alex’s worried voice came over her communicator.

  “Cornelle, this is against regulations, and I must register my concern.”

  “Concern duly noted, Centuria Lady Alexandra,” returned Diana formally. “By all means make a note of it in your report.”

  She switched her communicator to megaphone mode.

  “My huntresses will immediately shoot anyone who interferes. Margun, collect the weapons of your choosing.” She pointed to the pile of Utrean weapons in front of her.

  Within moments, they were arrayed against each other. Diana now hefted her sword in one hand, balancing her round shield in the other. Margun had collected a heavy iron battle-ax and a long-tipped spear. From ten meters away, he hurled the spear with all his might, a throw that would have brought down a mastodon. Diana’s shield moved a fraction and caught the iron point at an angle, dissipating its force and deflecting it away from her. The shaft landed forty meters away, its point mangled by her shield. She smiled grimly.

  “Come to me, Margun,” she taunted, closing in.

  Margun was the veteran of many combats. He was wily and strong and liked his chances in close combat with Diana. His eyes followed her sword and shield like a hawk’s, his battle-ax at the ready. She watched his eyes rather than his arms and could almost read his thoughts. She was amused by the irony of the situation. She reckoned that Margun and she were virtually identical in their chronological ages –about forty New Eartha years. Yet she was a picture of youth and health, her skin smooth and unblemished, her forehead unlined, her eyes clear, and her pale blonde hair silky and thick. With her great height, she topped him by a good margin. He, on the other hand, had been weathered by time. His hair was flecked with white, his face was lined, and his eyes bloodshot. But his muscles were still big and powerful.

  Her next move was a dancer’s delight. She spun on her left foot, and her right leg kicked high up, describing a vicious arc. Her steel toe caught Margun just under his heavy jawbone, completely lifting him off the ground. She completed her spin and landed on both feet, sword and shield at the ready.

  Margun was lying on his back and groaning, blood trickling out of his mouth. The blow would have shattered the jawbone of a lesser man, but Margun had a thick jaw and skull. He still managed to haul himself to his feet as Diana approached.

  “Come to me so I can rip your clothes off, Lady Death,” he slurred through broken teeth.

  Diana did not answer him. As she closed in, he raised his ax, but now his attention was divided as he warily watched her feet as well. She swung Light, its blade whistling through the air, and he raised his ax to meet it. The blade met the iron shaft of the ax with a clang. He was still disoriented from her earlier heavy blow and staggered under the weight of the clash of their weapons.

  Raising her shield, she jammed it edgewise into his ax arm. Bone and muscle were
no match for stainless steel. He screamed with pain, for this time she had pulverized his right elbow. The battle-ax dropped from his nerveless fingers, and he cradled his elbow, his face grimacing as he resisted the urge to whimper. His men looked on in horror but were frozen in place by the ’grators trained on them.

  “Come on, Margun,” said Diana with great good humor. “I thought you wanted to make me your woman.”

  Then she grew serious, and switching to Pranto, she rapped into her communicator, “Get these four over to the stakes. I want all of them trussed up and ready to roast.”

  Two Maidens dismounted and approached Margun. They manhandled him to where they had pounded stakes into the ground. He screamed anew as they dragged him by his arms, aggravating his crushed elbow. They spread-eagled him on the ground and bound his wrists to the stakes. When the Maidens came for them, the three corporals yielded with only minor struggles. Diana’s thrashing of Margun had knocked all the fight out of them.

  Diana walked up to Margun, now reduced to wheezing in pain.

  “Let me warm you, Margun,” she said mockingly.

  She pointed her laser pistol at the coals under him and emptied the entire charge, turning them instantly from cold and black to glowing red and blazing hot. The heat took a few moments to begin to be uncomfortable. Diana watched impassively and placed the small indentation in the butt of her laser pistol on a small protuberance on her wrist bracer. It matched seamlessly, and the powerful energy pack in her wrist bracer quickly returned the pistol to full charge. She repeated her actions again, lighting the coals under the three Utrean corporals.

  Very soon, Margun called out to her.

  “For pity’s sake, Lady Death, kill me! Kill me now!”

  Margun’s voice was faltering with the increasing pain. The three corporals also began to scream as the skin of their backs began to peel off. The remainder of the Utreans watched, round-eyed with terror. Diana sheathed Light, returned to her horse, and hung her shield on her pommel. Then she hefted her ’grator and swung back into her saddle. She opened a comm channel to Alex in the airboat.