The Empire of the Zon

by R. M. Burgess

  “You are my child, Esme; I could not harm you,” he said unhappily. “I will go into hiding, as you ask. I hope that someday you will recall that your blood is Hilson, not Shelsor.”

  “You said it yourself, Father,” Esme said, recomposing herself. “Shelsor blood runs in your veins as it does in mine and Harald’s.”

  AN HOUR PAST dusk found Artor dressed as a common soldier in a formation of cavalry, riding slowly away from the capital of Briga. He looked back over his shoulder at the Residency Gate and the white flags streaming from the standards there, frustration rising within him. He rode with the formation for a few hours till the watch fires of Dreslin and the lights of the Residency faded below the horizon. Then he leaned over to the trooper on his right and said in a hoarse whisper, “I think my horse has picked up a stone in his shoe. I must stop and extract it. I’ll catch up shortly. Cover for me with the captain.”

  The trooper nodded, and Artor fell out of formation. He waited and listened carefully for sounds of any trailing scouts or infantry. Only when he was sure that he was quite alone did he turn his horse’s head for the south.

  “Serat Oasis in the Daksin Desert,” he said to himself under his breath. “It will be a long ride, but they will never look for me there.”

  TWENTY-NINE

  FRANNA’S COMM EDGE had gone viral, and with it, Deirdre’s posthumous image grew and grew. There were calls for a suitable commemorative monument to be erected to her in Atlantic City, rivaling the Long Trek Memorial in size. Every day there were spontaneous memorial services dedicated to her in the Great Temple of the Mother Goddess Ma in Temple Heights. More and more electrae and commoners posted comm edges in which they recalled their dealings with Deirdre. Some were inspiring, others touching, but all depicted her as a positive, larger-than-life figure. Her direct descent from the legendary Zon queens—Thetis the Great, Simran the Merciless, and Caitlin the Unforgiving—was brought up again and again. Blood will tell, they said. Blood will tell.

  In life, Deirdre had been portrayed as nepotistic, using her privileged position to unlawfully shield Caitlin from punishment. Ironically, in death, she became the victim of a selfish, scheming, and immoral daughter. The more Deirdre’s popularity rose, the more Caitlin was seen as her hamartia, her Achilles’ heel. Deirdre’s deadly weakness was made all the more poignant since it stemmed from her motherhood, a position idealized within the Sisterhood. What could she do, poor thing? they asked. Her own child stuck a dagger in her breast. Caitlin must have risen from an evil seed. To the Zon, all evil inevitably sprang from the Y chromosome of the male seed. The inconsistency of ascribing both Deirdre’s virtue and Caitlin’s iniquity to genetic inheritance was lost in the public discourse. Caitlin’s own noble descent was never brought up.

  The d’Orr palace seemed empty to Caitlin as she settled into an aggressive program of physical therapy. She pushed her injured body incessantly, both on equipment at home as well as under the supervision of medicae at Repro. She was single-minded in her pursuit, and she slowly but steadily improved. Her right arm gradually regained its full strength. However, no matter how hard she worked, her left leg remained stubbornly and significantly weaker than her right. She redoubled her efforts, putting in longer hours and pushing herself even harder than her medicae could believe possible.

  The days passed in a daze of workouts, medical assessments, and mock tests. She passed every test for the Legions except for anything involving her left leg. She cried with frustration, begged the medicae for any new research, any new drugs, anything that would help her to qualify. For how could she carry on her mother’s legacy if she was not a huntress? Most medicae were supportive and understanding as they were trained to be, but their demeanor toward her was cool. None of this was comforting to Caitlin.

  Andromache kept close tabs on Caitlin’s progress. When she became convinced that Caitlin would be unable to requalify as a huntress, she met with Hildegard to seek an alternative appointment for her as a priestess.

  “She worshipped her mother,” said Andromache. “She tried so hard to be like her that she sacrificed her scholarly gifts on that altar. But now she can become what she was born to be—an intellectual leader of the Sisterhood.”

  “It all depends on the outcome of her court martial,” said Hildegard. “She must face the consequences of her actions, like any other military officer. If the court martial finds her innocent, she may exercise her rights as a priestess of Cognis and accept any appointment you choose to give her. However, if the court martial finds her guilty, she will lose her rights as an electra. You know this as well as I.”

  “Your Majesty, the court martial will be a circus,” pleaded Andromache. “You must know of the ugly chatter on the comm. But you also know the facts of the case. How can any reasonable person think that Caitlin acted in anything other than the most honorable manner possible?”

  “My personal opinions are irrelevant, Andromache,” said Hildegard patiently. “As you are fond of saying, we Zon are a society of laws, and no one is above them. The court martial will be fair and open. All the facts will be laid before the panel and analyzed. Justice will be done.”

  “If the girl, Nitya, had been Zon, Caitlin would have received the highest commendation for doing exactly what she did,” said Andromache crossly.

  “But she isn’t,” said Hildegard, putting a hand on Andromache’s arm. “Right now she is in the barbarian court of King Lothar of Utrea. This is being incessantly bandied about on the comm. I know how you feel about Caitlin, Andromache. But there is nothing you can do but hope you have the chance to testify for her.”

  “Her mother is gone; she has been tortured by the barbarians; now she is to be persecuted by her own sisters for the ‘crime’ of saving a young girl. How much must she suffer?”

  “Trust in Ma, Andromache.”

  “I have faith in Ma, ma’am. It is the court martial panel that I am worried about. Kyra, Tignona, and Diana—what a trio!”

  “Caitlin has served under Kyra as well as Diana. They should have good memories of her service,” said Hildegard, attempting to raise her spirits. “Let us hope for the best.”

  THE COURT MARTIAL was held in the Atlantic City court building, very near Chateau Regina. The floor of the courtroom was packed with commoners. A large crowd of those unable to get seating collected outside. Huntresses had to be deployed both inside and outside the courtroom to ensure that the crowds remained under control. The large gallery for electrae was also full. Andromache was in attendance with her handmaiden. By her side were Megara, Jena, and Felicia, on leave from the Brigon Residency.

  To her delight, Jena had been unexpectedly promoted to seignora shortly after the lifting of the siege of the Brigon Residency. Now from time to time, she glanced smugly at the new ax-and-hammer on her wrist bracers and touched the like insignia on her choker.

  Centuria Anika Rulina, in a Pentheselia Legion uniform, was at the prosecutor’s table. Ling Mae had been appointed to defend Caitlin and sat at the defense table, also wearing her Pentheselia Legion centuria’s uniform. Caitlin was brought in between two Pentheselia Legion huntresses, her own coveted Guardian uniform standing out in contrast. Jena leaned over to Megara and whispered, “What is this? The second-rate Pentheselias ganging up on the Guardians?”

  The three judges filed in a few minutes later, Kyra in the middle as chief judge, with Tignona on her right and Diana on her left. As soon as the panel was seated, Kyra raised her gavel and struck the sound block, saying, “The court martial of Seignora Princess Caitlin d’Orr is in session. Centuria Anika Rulina prosecuting and Centuria Ling Mae Yintina for the defense. The prosecution has the floor. Please proceed.”

  “The facts of the case are as clear as black and white, Your Honors,” said Anika, standing and approaching the bench. She began counting off on her fingers. “Seignora Princess Caitlin interfered in a barbarian trial by combat in Dreslin Center. She kidnapped a barbarian girl from the Brigon authorities. She was ordere
d to return the barbarian to the Brigon authorities by Resident Lady Selene and refused to obey orders. Worse, she killed a Brigon nobleman who had been sent to recover the barbarian girl. She then brought the barbarian girl into the Residency. Finally, when Resident Lady Selene sought to undo the damage wrought to Zon-Brigon relations by returning the barbarian, Seignora Princess Caitlin kidnapped the girl again, deserted, and escaped from the Residency into barbarian territory. These are the six charges brought against her, Your Honors. I have already interviewed Seignora Princess Caitlin, and she has signed a statement accepting all of these charges as true.”

  Ling Mae leaned over to Caitlin at the defense table.

  “Did you sign that?” she hissed.

  “Yes,” whispered Caitlin.

  “Why?” Ling Mae’s whisper was despairing.

  “Because all that she said is true,” murmured Caitlin.

  Ling Mae rolled her eyes and leaned back in her chair.

  Kyra looked over at Caitlin.

  “Seignora, do you accept that the statements made by Centuria Anika are true?”

  Caitlin stood up.

  “Yes, Praefecta Kyra,” she said and sat back down.

  Andromache wrung her hands, murmuring, “Poor Caitlin, you are so innocent and trusting!” Megara ran her fingers through her thick hair. “She is her own worst enemy,” whispered Jena to Megara, who nodded wearily.

  “Centuria Anika, do you wish to call any witnesses?” asked Kyra formally.

  “Yes, Praefecta. I call on one who was witness to virtually the entire sorry affair. I call Seignora Megara Paurina to the stand.”

  There was an immediate loud buzz in the courtroom. It was well known that Megara was Caitlin’s best friend, and everyone had her own idea as to why she would be called by the prosecution. Megara herself was astonished—she had expected to be called, but by the defense. She stood and made her way out of the electrae gallery, reached the floor of the courtroom, and walked up to the witness stand. She took her oath to Ma and prepared herself for Anika’s questions.

  “Seignora Megara,” said Anika in a warm, friendly tone. “You have an enviable record of service. You passed the grueling tests for the Palace Guardians, the best unit in the Legions. Your scores in almost all huntress qualifying tests are superior to those of Seignora Princess Caitlin, is that not so?”

  Megara was surprised by the question and said, “I don’t see how this is relevant—”

  Diana leaned forward and cut Megara off, addressing Anika.

  “I hope you will make clear to the court that this has a bearing on the case at hand, Centuria.”

  “Cornelle Diana, I will demonstrate to the court that this is an extremely relevant line of questioning,” said Anika.

  “Proceed,” said Kyra. Glancing at Megara, she said, “Answer the question, Seignora Megara.”

  Megara looked over at Caitlin, seeing her up close for the first time since their parting at Simrania. She saw the changes in Caitlin’s appearance wrought by suffering and grief as only someone who knew her intimately could: the pale blonde streaks in her hair and the tiny creases around her eyes. She recognized the deep sadness in her demeanor. Their eyes met, and Caitlin gave her the slightest of nods as if to say, “I only wish you to tell the truth and reestablish your innocence, my dearest friend. For nothing you say can save me.”

  Megara shook her head and squared her shoulders.

  “Yes,” she said.

  “Yes, what?” asked Anika.

  “Yes, my scores in some huntress qualifying tests are superior to those of Seignora Princess Caitlin.”

  “Only some?” asked Anika.

  “Many tests,” said Megara reluctantly.

  “In spite of your superior performance, Seignora Princess Caitlin was appointed as Third Officer at the Brigon Residency, while you were appointed as her aide, is that not so?”

  “It was a diplomatic position, and Princess Caitlin is also qualified as a priestess, while I am not!” said Megara.

  “Just a yes or no answer, please,” said Anika. “I ask again: is it true that in spite of your superior performance, Seignora Princess Caitlin was appointed as Third Officer at the Brigon Residency, while you were appointed as her aide?”

  “Yes,” said Megara tightly.

  Anika walked over to the panel and looked up at the judges.

  “I request that the witness’s earlier statement be struck from the record as irrelevant.”

  “Request sustained,” said Kyra before Diana or Tignona could respond.

  Anika returned to her position by the witness stand and resumed her questioning.

  “I will now ask you a series of questions similar to those I asked Seignora Princess Caitlin earlier. In each case, you must give a simple yes or no answer. Is that clear?”

  Megara nodded, her suppressed fury evident on her face.

  “You were present at Seignora Princess Caitlin’s side for almost the entire duration of the action for which she is being tried, were you not?”

  “Yes.”

  “During this period, you were required by Zon military regulations to obey her orders as your superior officer, were you not?”

  “Yes.”

  “Did Seignora Princess Caitlin interfere in a barbarian trial by combat in Dreslin Center?”

  “Yes,” said Megara in a low, almost inaudible voice.

  “Did she take a barbarian from the Brigon authorities?”

  “Yes, but—”

  “‘Yes’ is sufficient, Seignora Megara. Did she then bring the barbarian into the Residency?”

  “Yes, but you are making it sound—”

  Kyra leaned down from the bench.

  “Seignora Megara, if you persist in disobeying the instructions of counsel, you risk being held in contempt of court. Please answer with a yes or a no.”

  “Yes,” said Megara miserably.

  Anika turned and returned to the prosecutor’s table, saying to Ling Mae, “Your witness.”

  Ling Mae stood and walked slowly up to the witness stand. Ling Mae had unenthusiastically assumed the role of Caitlin’s defender only the previous day. This was after over a dozen qualified huntresses had refused to the position. All her friends had advised her against it. You cannot win, they said. If you fail, they will say you did a bad job. If you succeed, they will say that the d’Orr tiara got her off. And she is hugely unpopular—just look at the comm. Some of that unpopularity is bound to rub off on her defender.

  “Seignora Megara, you were present with Seignora Princess Caitlin at the religious trial the day previous to the action we are discussing, were you not?”

  “Yes,” said Megara.

  “Objection!” cried Anika. “Irrelevant.”

  “It is a lot more relevant than Seignora Megara’s test scores, Centuria,” said Ling Mae acidly.

  “Proceed,” said Kyra. “But if we cannot find relevance, we will strike this line of questioning from the record.”

  Ling Mae bowed her head and turned back to Megara.

  “Was there anything in what Seignora Caitlin said that suggested she would act as she did the next day?”

  “Yes,” said Megara cautiously

  “What was it?”

  Megara saw the opening Ling Mae sought to exploit.

  “As we rode back to the Residency, she said, ‘We are the Zon Sisterhood, we protect our sisters.’ All of us in the detail were extremely moved by the plight of the barbarian girl, a twelve-year-old orphan, the prettiest little thing you ever saw. Dressed in a pink leotard, she could have been in Junior School here in Atlantic City and no one would have given her a second glance.”

  Anika bounded to her feet.

  “Your Honors,” she cried. “You must allow me to intercede. This line of questioning is obscuring the facts of the case.”

  “How so?” asked Diana, leaning forward on the bench.

  “The girl is a barbarian, plain and simple. Her appearance is not relevant to the case. Invoking
the Zon catechism in this context is a cynical attempt by the defense to inject pathos into the proceedings. All that is relevant for this court are the facts. And the fact is that this barbarian girl was found guilty by a court of one of our staunchest allies, King Harald V of Briga.”

  “Your point is well taken, Centuria Anika,” declared Kyra. “This entire line of questioning will be struck from the record. The witness is excused.”

  Megara stood down and returned to her seat in the gallery, fuming.

  “The prosecution calls Resident Lady Selene Allerand,” said Anika, just as Megara was sitting down.

  Lady Selene emerged from the witness room, dressed formally. She acknowledged the nods of judges, ascended the stand, and took her oath to Ma.

  “Resident Lady Selene,” said Anika. “Please tell the court your reaction when you were informed that Seignora Princess Caitlin would be taking the position of Third Officer at the Brigon Residency.”

  Lady Selene was professional, calm, and collected. Her answer came out as if she were reading from a script.

  “I was surprised. She was quite young for such an important position and had no experience of diplomacy.”

  Anika rapidly asked Lady Selene the same questions she had asked Caitlin and this time got straightforward, one-word answers of ‘yes’ to each one.

  “Do you have anything to add, Lady Selene?” she asked in closing.

  Lady Selene shook her head, projecting an image of perfect impartiality.

  “Your witness,” said Anika to Ling Mae, returning again to the prosecution table.

  Ling Mae walked over the witness stand and bowed her head to Lady Selene respectfully.

  “Lady Selene, as Seignora Princess Caitlin’s superior, how would you rate her performance prior to the actions for which she is charged?”

  “I would say she was adequate,” said Lady Selene, weighing her words. “She was quite raw when she started, but she learned quickly. By the time of the events in question, she had earned my approval and represented me at a number of routine events in the Brigon court.”