The Noble Petty, Complete Edition (Alutia Rising Series, Book 2)

by Craig Gerttula

  “So I'm assuming this will now be a requirement for me as well?” he asked.

  Sasha grinned. “Of course...since I plan to live till I am well over 300 and you must accompany me every day during that time,” Sasha said playfully. Trent leaned in to kiss her back.

  “Don't worry, Sasha...I'll make sure to keep my body young so when Trent dies at 100, I'll have you all to myself,” Tiana squeaked from above.

  Sasha turned, open shock on her beautiful face. “Tiana! Do not say such horrible things,” Sasha scolded, causing a few of the undercover Alutia Guards who accompanied them to turn their heads in surprise.

  “Yes, Tiana, Trent will get tired of her well before then and come to me...a real woman...to fill his...desires,” Vickie purred, her sensual tenor filling the cabin. Trent blushed, then quickly keeled over as Sasha's elbow struck his side.

  “That is enough of that, Lady Vickie...Lady Tiana. Grand Duke Trent will never leave my side...ever...do I make myself clear?” Sasha said. Trent knew Sasha was being playful, but sensed truth in her words, she would never allow him to leave her side. Such a thought would have terrified him in the past. But now it made him feel safe, loved, and he would never leave her side for the rest of his days. Laughter filled the cabin as the tension eased and they went back to watching the sea of biological buildings pass below, only broken by blocks of tightly packed native foliage or the towering pyramid shaped biological buildings that pierced the sky.

  “No leaves...” he thought out loud as they again moved clear of the shuttle traffic, making their way towards a group of tightly packed, domed shaped biological buildings that were obviously part of one giant complex.

  “It is quite common actually, Your Grace, most carbon based plant life appears to evolve away from the need for a branching system of leaves to convert energy and allow their bodies, or another species, to handle the photosynthesis,” Sir Seb'Losh answered from their side, appearing ready to exit the shuttle, which had begun its descent to a landing pad hidden on top of one of the larger domed buildings within the complex.

  “I'd think that they wouldn't be able to survive relying on that method,” Trent wondered, having studied a little biology during his free electives while at university on Earth.

  “That is normally the case, Your Grace, and their size is usually limited. But with biological science at where it is, we can make any plant photosynthesize millions of times more efficient, which allows for the phenomenal growth and near infinite lifespan you see with biological buildings,” Sir Seb’Losh elaborated. Trent, delighted at learning something new, nodded his thanks.

  “At least he's good for something,” Tiana whispered.

  Sir Seb'Losh's face flashed irritation, then returned to its normal, unreadable appearance. “It is a guard's duty to know of anything that may affect their charges, Lady Tiana,” Sir Seb'Losh responded, chin held high, forcing little emotion into his words as Vickie and Tiana started laughing as one.

  “Enough you two...let him to do his job,” Sasha came to Sir Seb’Losh’s defense.

  “Who are you and what have you done with my Sasha?” Tiana asked in complete astonishment.

  “Tiana, you must understand. Since we are in enemy territory, we must keep them close...wouldn't you agree, Trent?” Sasha winked in his direction.

  He smiled. “Of course, my love. I think keeping them especially close to Tiana and Vickie would be for the best,” he winked back. Tiana looked on in horror, then, catching the two trying to unsuccessfully hide a snicker, fell back into her seat.

  “You'll pay for this!” she threatened, he and Sasha’s giggling like little kids.

  A barely perceptible shutter informed him that they'd landed and after the 20 undercover Alutia Guards exited, they followed. Sir Illion stood on the landing pad hidden in a nook where two domes merged, standing with three others Trent didn't recognize. Two wore uniforms with purple strips on a base of white, a logo on their breast stating SVH, apparently employees of Sacred Venra Holdings, while the other adorned a casual gown of deep purple. Trent gazed at each in turn; glad to find the Eye of Emperor saying they were warm, meaning their motives were pure.

  “Your Graces,” Sir Illion bowed low, “let me introduce Sir Wontin, president and owner of Sacred Venra Holdings,” a portly man with a beat red cheeks and short cut, red hair, bowed deeper then Trent would have thought possible given his girth.

  “Grand Duchess Sasha, Grand Duke Trent...you honor us with your presence...” Sir Wontin greeted with reverence, holding his bow.

  “Sir Wontin, we are here under the utmost secrecy. Lady Sasha and Sir Trent are fine,” Sasha said quietly. Sir Wontin recovered, wiping sweat from his brow with a gold cloth that seemed to evaporate the liquid with every swipe.

  “Of course, my apologies. Let me introduce my wife and son,” he gestured to the “noble perfect” woman at his side with shoulder length red hair, tumbling over a full length purple gown. “My wife, Lady Venra...” she curtsied, but her expression was tense, she noticeably distraught.

  Lady Venra caught Sasha's eye and rushed forward. Sir Seb’Losh reacted, training taking hold, but froze as Trent gestured to stand down, he receiving an icy glare in response. Lady Venra fell to her knees at Sasha's feet, weeping as she grasped her hand.

  “Please...my baby...they took her...” she cried, her words mumbled.

  Before Sasha could respond, the youngest of the three, who had yet to be introduced, hurried to Lady Venra’s side. “Mother...please...” he placed an arm around her and carefully escorted her back to Sir Wontin.

  “Excuse her, Lady Sasha. She has been most distraught since our daughter, Lady Wedra, was abducted.” Trent felt, more than saw, the anger flowing through Sasha. Not at the breech of protocol, but at the very idea that someone had been abducted within her duchy.

  “I have heard, Sir Wontin, and we will do everything in our power to locate and rescue her,” Sasha voiced her promise.

  The young man at Lady Venra's side scoffed in disbelief. “That would be a first...” he muttered, his words callus.

  Sir Wontin smacked him on the back of the head. “Watch your tongue!” he scolded, his voice of deference shifting to authority in an instant. But the son turned to him, his fury obvious on his freckled cheeks, which had turned a similar color to his fiery red hair.

  “But...but father! They are just like the rest! They don't care about anybody but themselves. Marquis Rostil has claimed the same thing repeatedly!” the boy cried. Sir Wontin appeared to want to strike him again, but tensed, seeming to sense something amiss.

  Trent's fury boiled forth as the young man spoke. Not at him, well maybe a little, but at the name Marquis Rostil; the man ultimately responsible for the treatment of the petties of Heclutia, along with openly siding with Duke Zehman, their mortal enemy. Sasha sensed his fury through their bond, trying to soothe it, but her attempts useless, her own revulsion too strong, adding to his own righteous fire.

  “You are?” Trent's voice boomed as all thought fled his mind, his body seeming to grow to tower over the cringing boy.

  “Sir Totin!” the boy answered, trying to stand tall.

  “Sir Totin. Marquis Rostil and all who serve him are currently traitors to the Alutia Duchy and the NHA. This means their lives are forfeit, and I promise you, I will kill him and any who swear allegiance to him if they appear within my sight,” a clarity filled his mind, but the accompanying fury caused the world to shimmer white. “Never...I repeat...never...compare my wife...my love...to that piece of human filth. If she says she will do something...she will...with my full confidence and support. Do I make myself clear?” Trent felt his wrath entangle his words, instinct of what he needed to say rising from within. Sasha placed her arm around him, pressing herself close, pride now mixing with anger. Sir Wontin and Lady Venra cowered, terrified, then started bowing and curtseying repeatedly, apologizing with words Trent could not hear, a river rushing through his ears. But Sir Totin stood, expression of co
mplete shock, as if Trent’s words were of such surprise that he could have never imagined them spoken. Then, as if suddenly understanding, he smiled.

  “Of course, Sir Trent...my apologies...” he bowed deeply, then stared him in the eye, fascination in his own.

  “We really should move this conversation inside. The walls have ears they say,” Sir Illion interjected. Trent nodded.

  “Very well, let us abjure to a private chamber to discuss our next course of action,” Sasha responded first, her words a little louder than before.

  “Very good, Lady Sasha. If you would follow me,” Sir Wontin turned, wife on his arm, and hurried towards a waiting tube transport. The undercover Alutia Guards fell in around them, trying not to be obvious as they waited for Trent and Sasha to follow. But before they moved on, he had something else to do, something that could not wait.

  He turned to Sasha, who was still beaming with pride, placing his hands on her checks and kissing her with all his passion, all his love that had fully returned, ignoring the hoots from her ladies and their catillians and the gasp from Lady Venra. As he lingered, his mind threatening to be lost in his rising lust, he noticed out of the corner of his eye, a wide smile on the lips of Sir Totin, whose sensation had become red hot, similar to that of a young empress he knew so well.

  *********

  Sasha moved in a daze, her heart trying to escape her chest, she unable to steady her racing thoughts after the events that transpired moments before. Trent's emotions had returned, like a swirling maelstrom overtook the landing pad, dragging all into its center where he stood taller than life.

  When Trent responded to Sir Totin's accusation that she, like Marquis Rostil, would ignore their plight; their bond exploded open with his fury, then his love, screaming he would never allow anyone to voice such lies in his presence. Pride burst forth as she witnessed the crowd respond; nobody questioning, nobody moving, just standing in awe to watch and listen.

  The tube transport came to a silent stop and she allowed Trent to guide her as they walked slowly behind their tension filled hosts. Employees of Sacred Venra Holdings moved aside to let them pass; staring in wonder at the mysterious group who strode down the hallway like it was their own. Sasha's gaze started to wander, noticing for the first time the organic beauty of the biological building she had entered.

  The walls were covered with floor to ceiling programmable matter art murals that constantly shifted between differing alien landscapes. It currently depicted a mountain-like creature lumbering slowly across a golden plain, black swirls and bulb-like plants swaying hypnotically upon its skin. It was breathtaking and made all the more so by the soft lighting that seemed to highlight it amongst the surrounding decor.

  It took her a moment to discern the lighting's source, there being no noticeable bioglobes, biolights, light strips, or lighting nodes obvious in the walls or ceiling. Apparently, the biological architects had altered the organic makeup of the building itself, allowing the ceiling to emit a gentle glow that, when combined with the larger surface area, bathed the hallway in a pleasantly soft illumination. Trent seemed to be taken at awe with the splendor as well, gazing intently at the mural, then the carved pillars encircling a three-way intersection, before freezing in place, face going rigid.

  Sir Seb'Losh moved like lightening, streaking across the intersection as he followed Trent's glare to an employ leaning casually against a pillar, expression distant as if he was “node locked”. Sir Seb’Losh grabbed the employ by the arm, twisting it behind his back as he forced the man's cheek against the wall.

  “Ahh!” the employee cried out, eyes wide with fear. Sir Seb'Losh spun, staring at Trent as two more undercover Alutia Guards joined him, holding the employee in place.

  “What is this?” Sir Wontin asked, his confusion obvious.

  “We need to move somewhere private,” Sir Seb'Losh urged. Sasha stared at her guard captain, then Trent, mind working. Concern, mixed with fear, leaked through her bond with Trent, fining her confusion start to fade, replaced by understanding. This man is cold. Sir Wontin rubbed his hands together, seeming reluctant.

  “Sir Wontin, we should move this matter to private,” she pushed, letting him know this matter was most urgent.

  Sir Wontin seemed to consider for another moment, before nodding agreement. “This way, our destination is just ahead...” he waddled quickly forward, ignoring the concerned queries from his wife as she tried to keep pace. They followed close, Sir Seb'Losh taking up the rear with the two guards carrying the confused man just ahead. After another minute they exited the main corridor and hurried down a side hallway. A double door opened as they approached, revealing a modestly decorated reception area. An attractive woman, with shoulder length silver hair, sat behind a desk PDU that projected thousands of rows of data, mostly numbers, in the air before her.

  “Sir Wontin,” the woman burst to her feet. “We received word that growth agent imports have collapsed in galaxy 200! We can purcha-,”

  “Not now, Peg'Eie. We need drinks and call Private Guard Commander Nu'Min immediately. We may require his assistance,” Sir Wontin instructed, wiping away the ever increasing sweat from his brow. Sasha didn't see Trent move, he just suddenly appearing at Sir Wontin's side before she could breath. He whispered into Sir Wontin's ear, she unable to hear his words, but having a sense of what he spoke. Her assumption verified when Sir Wontin went stiff. “And Peg'Eie, inform Nu'Min that he and his men shall move about the complex unarmed until further notice,” Peg'Eie rose an eyebrow at Sir Wontin, then Trent, who smiled politely, before moving back to Sasha's side, showing a smirk only she could see.

  “He won't like that, sir,” Peg'Eie answered dubiously, eyeing Trent with rising suspicion.

  “Just do it, Peg'Eie. If he has a complaint remind him who pays him twice the average wage for his position!” Sir Wontin stormed through the door next to the desk, his wife and son on his heels.

  “I didn't forget my promise,” Trent whispered, kissing her lightly on the cheek as they followed.

  The private conference room overlooked Rovial city, being only slightly higher than the surrounding buildings. Trent escorted her across the room to the windows that provided a clear view of the many exotic biological buildings growing densely around them. The vast majority of the domed structures that were grown close were part of the Sacred Venra Holding's headquarters, while those just beyond were of varying sizes, shapes, and colors. Most were different hues of green, while others took on a slightly reddish shade or bluish tint. But her gaze was drawn to the nearly transparent, gelatinous creatures that littered the surfaces of almost every building, undulating as they moved, making the buildings look alive.

  “Wow,” Trent whispered from her side as he noticed the strange animals as well. She knew many of the native animal and insect species on Don'Alutia were symbiotic with the local fauna, and based on the way these animals seemed to clean the microfilaments that covered the plants skin as they moved, made her believe it true for them as well.

  “I didn't notice the parks before,” Trent whispered to himself, staring from the animals to the people moving between the buildings, down footpaths cut through dense gardens of native plant life and ponds of clear blue water.

  “Sir Trent, may I ask what is going on?” Sir Wontin asked politely, standing at the head of the conference table, wife and son at his side. He repeatedly glanced with concern at Sir Seb'Losh, who followed the two guards dragging the terrified man between them. Trent glanced at her, his reluctant smile showing he'd much rather continue exploring the cityscape, before his expression turned serious.

  He led her to the opposite end of the conference table from their hosts. “Yes, I'm sorry, Sir Wontin, this will only take a moment,” Trent responded, staring at the terrified employee being held between the two guards. “Do you work for Marquis Rostil?” he questioned abruptly.

  The man went pale. “No. I work for Sir Wontin!” he shouted.

  Trent's brow furrowed
and he looked to Sasha. “He's lying, but...but I'm not sure about which one,” she frowned, realizing the man answered the question then made a statement.

  “So you work for Sir Wontin?” Sasha asked, unable to keep all her disdain out of her words.

  “Yes, of course!” the man nodded vigorously, droplets of sweat flying through the air.

  “Sir Wontin...this man is most likely a spy for Marquis Rostil or one of his vassals. I would be surprised if he is the only one,” Trent said, the color draining from the portly noble’s cheeks.

  “I'm not, I told you-,” Trent's glare stopped the man cold.

  “Sir Seb'Losh...is there a way to track communications from an individual?” Trent asked.

  “Of course,” Sir Seb'Losh responded, eyes twinkling in a way that told he would have probably answered that way even if there was not.

  Trent nodded and looked back at the man in question. “Now, are we going to find communications from you to Marquis Rostil? If so, it may be a good idea to know, since if you are indeed a spy for the marquis, who is a known traitor to the Alutia Duchy, working for the condemned Duke Zehman, your life will be forfeit,” Trent said, tone unemotional. The man cringed, his eyes going wide with terror as he looked from Trent to Sasha, then to Sir Wontin.

  “What...what are you saying?” the man asked, obviously terrified.

  “What we are saying is if you come clean now, tell us everything......and I mean everything, because we will know if you are lying. Then we may spare you. Otherwise...” Sasha let her words trail off, knowing the man's imagination could be much more effective than any of her threats.

  The man's head drooped in sudden understanding. “I...I...didn't know. I thought I was just helping, t-trying to find criminals. I-I-I didn't know!” the man shouted, tears streaming down his puffy red cheeks.

  “Didn't I just tell you? I know when you are lying,” Trent sighed, nodding to Sir Seb'Losh, who stuck an injector to the man's neck, causing him to go limp and slump to the floor.