Mathiah had been a highly talented far speaker, able to communicate across space and the many other worlds that made up the empire. He’d been the voice that commanded troops, led governments, and drew them all together. And no matter what they might think of this woman from what they considered an inferior species, their emperor had made her his wife and consort and they had not dared object.
“There will be no meeting. Parliament has been suspended.”
Claire stared at her thoughtfully. This was not an unexpected development.
“By whose order?” she asked with false calm, even as her heart stepped up its beat and she looked at her daughters who had risen to their feet at the words of the empress.
“By the emperor,” their grandmother snapped.
“The emperor is eight years old and I speak for him. I gave no such order.”
The empress laughed out loud, an unprecedented occurrence. “You don’t have the voice to give such orders except when standing within hearing range of the Gare leaders. I am now regent. I speak for Michel. And I gave the order.”
Adaeze stepped forward, her young face looking years older than her actual age as she challenged, “You dared go against my father’s wishes. He named my mother regent.”
The old empress looked only vaguely uneasy, but that was another first. She never doubted her own edicts. “If Mathiah were here, he would agree with me. The empire is in jeopardy and someone must take control who can communicate with our people. There is no security when we are led by a blind-headed alien.”
Lillianne stepped close to her sister’s side and this time she protested. “You speak of our mother, Grandmere. Do you also value us so little?”
Her little girls were growing up, Claire thought soberly. She only hoped they were allowed to stay alive long enough to complete the job. If the empress saw her as a threat to Michel and his power, then what did she think of Adaeze and Lillianne?
At that point the communication from the empress became nonverbal and Claire, who had become finely attuned over the years to such, knew she was telling the two girls something she didn’t want Claire to hear.
So focused on the conversation, she became suddenly aware that loud sounds were penetrating even the thick walls of the old palace. It seemed like the sounds of weaponry, the swishing sound of guns and even the clanging of medal. What was happening outside?
“You can’t do that, Grandmere,” Adaeze responded in deliberate and audible words to whatever it was her grandmother had told them. Whatever Mere said in return, Claire couldn’t hear it, but the old woman looked furious as she turned to the door and regally exited, not having gifted her granddaughter with as much as a farewell.
Members of the Gare class of Aremian society were not much given to physical displays of affection, but now Claire found herself being hugged by both her daughters at the same time, loving her much as they had as small children before they were taught that such displays were inappropriate.
Lillianne’s voice was choked with tears as she said, “We won’t let anyone harm you, Mom,” and Adaeze gripped her so tightly that it hurt.
Normally Jamie paid visits to the Gare city of Terrainaine unaccompanied, but this time George had insisted he bring Mack and Karen along. All three of them were formidable fighters and carried weapons any time they visited the shining city on the plains, but this morning they were more than usually on alert.
The residents of the city, mostly occupied by the troopers and political officials of the empire and their families, had long ago learned to tolerate the visitors from the Earther colony and mostly ignored them. Though there were still those sentimental folk who tended to treat them like pets, speaking rather slowly to them as though they were slow-minded and sometimes stroking the long hair of the women much as though they were dogs or cats.
Many of these people spoke the more predominate languages of Earth since for over a century now it had been their task to maintain the Earth settlement that had provided all-important supplies of the right kind of blood to keep their leaders from dying prematurely.
In the last fifteen years after the deal Claire had made to join the emperor both as consort and potential blood donor in return for the protection of New London and its people, they had become a little more aloof, a little less friendly, but under orders from the emperor, had traded in vital goods and provided assistance back in the days when New London had been largely occupied by teenagers, few of whom had any idea of how to keep the community going.
Jamie, a man of few words himself, still found the long silences of Terrainaine disconcerting and as he walked the streets today felt even more acutely that the Aremian citizens and their Gare overlords were simply waiting patiently until the need for their blood rose again.
Mathiah, their protector, was gone and who could know what had happened to Claire. The whole empire had celebrated when her girls were born so he knew about the two princesses and knew also that as females they could not inherit the throne. No telling who was in charge now or what fate Claire had met.
And the question of the safety of New London depended on answering those two questions.
That was why they were here—he, Mack and Karen. The golden-haired woman with the lithe build had once been his enemy, then his lover until they parted ways and she’d eventually married Mack. They had two sons now, both of them old enough to be in training as parts of the secret New London defensive league. Given the character and physical strength of their parents, they could hardly grow up to be anything else.
Remote as the citizens of Terrainaine were from them with their mind speech and their usual condescension, still they had made some friends over the years and it was from them that Jamie hoped to gain info.
Today they had brought a basket of freshly picked and deliciously ripe peaches, a fruit grown only in the rich lands the Gare had provided to the original New London settlement. The best of the terraformed land had gone to the newcomers; the rest of the planet was dry as dust and lacking in beauty. Therefore their produce was valued as gourmet food.
Jamie and Mack carried the basket between them, though Karen protested that she could lift any weight either of the two men could manage. That was true, but Jamie had been brought up in an old world culture. He would have been uncomfortable strolling at his ease while she carried half the load.
It was one of the reasons their relationship hadn’t worked out. He and Karen didn’t see many things alike while Mack was enormously proud of his wife’s abilities.
They found their way to a rather elegant store on the first floor of one of the tall shining buildings that the Aremians used for business purposes. Like the others, it had high doorways to allow the populace to come and go, but no windows. This lack of openings helped keep the hot air outside of the cooled interior.
Karen led the way to the familiar market where they sold most of their wares, but stepped aside as Sage, the store’s manager, came smilingly toward them. Jamie knew well enough that she and Mack, though apparently glancing disinterestedly around the market with its displays of exotic fruits and vegetables brought in from the many planets that made up the empire, would be taking in every word that passed between him and the Aremian.
“Call me Sage,” he’d told Jamie when they first met. “You wouldn’t be able to pronounce my real name.” He was that rare being, a fat, short man among his tall race, though for these people short meant a couple of inches taller than Jamie’s slightly over six-foot frame.
Good natured and a keen businessman, he had originally been friendly to the people from New London to acquire first chance at their goods, but over the years he and Jamie had taken on a relationship that was more than simple business. They weren’t exactly friends, but more like respected colleagues.
After a few bouts with the more direct Mack and Karen, he preferred to do business with Jamie, who had inherited some of the skills of a Texas horse trader, or with the more subtle Isaiah.
For Sage much of the delig
ht of doing business was in the bartering and this could take from an hour to half a day as he and Jamie lazily chatted about personal matters and the world at large, only occasionally mentioning figures until they finally made a deal.
Sage was one of the few residents of Terrainaine who didn’t seem to mind speaking out loud. In fact he was proud of his skills and enjoyed sharpening them in his talks with Jamie.
Jamie didn’t doubt that at the same time he was gaining info from Sage, the other man was doing the same and probably passing the information on to the governor for Terrainaine, who would then relay it to the emperor if it was considered important enough.
It seemed a fair trade and in this way they bartered, much as they did over the fruit.
“Jamie, my friend,” Sage greeted him today, than nodded at the other two. “Karen. Mack.”
He brought them glasses of a frothy, cool drink and gestured them to a small seating area where the huge chairs swallowed their bodies. Jamie and Mack put down the basket, not bringing any attention to it. Nor did Sage as much as glance at the rare fruit.
Jamie slouched into the chair closest to the one his host chose and sipped at the delicious drink, knowing that its stimulating quality was part of the bargaining. He was supposed to feel good, really good, after finishing this drink.
He drank very slowly and would consume no more than a quarter of the liquid during the conversation. Mack and Karen were free to indulge in entire glassfuls, though they had learned from experience not to accept seconds.
“Tell me, my friend, how things go with your city and its people,” Sage encouraged with the attitude of a man only engaging in the usual polite small talk.
“Doing fine,” Jamie contributed.
“Good peach crop,” Karen said. “The plums are looking good.”
“Apricots are my favorites,” Mack added.
Sage’s slow smile spread across his broad face and he scratched his bald head. “Mr. Hartley still running things?”
Oops! What was going on? To plunge directly into politics was almost unknown. Sage must be quite anxious about something.
Anything that worried Sage worried Jamie.
“Kevin’s a popular leader,” Jamie agreed lazily as though it didn’t matter to him one way or another who was running New London’s government.
“Good enough,” Sage agreed, “as long as nothing critical is going on.” He glanced meaningfully at Karen and Mack.
This was unprecedented. Jamie allowed a slight frown to crease his forehead.
Mack was quick to catch on. “Would it be rude if we took this chance to stroll around the market?” he asked, not looking at Jamie. “Karen’s been wanting to see some of the imported vegetables.
Karen was no less quick. “Yeah,” she agreed.
Smilingly Sage invited them to enjoy perusing his goods and, his other customers remaining at a polite distance, he turned with obvious relief to Jamie.
“The empire is in chaos,” he said. “The royal guard is supporting the regent and the princesses, but most of the army on Aremia itself has been seized by the old empress. So far Terrainaine is too far away and unimportant to be affected, but it will come to me and to you, my friend.”
Jamie nodded, his heart seeming to sink into his stomach.
“Your community will soon need leadership other than this man who tells everybody what they want to hear.”
Jamie had no doubt of it. He was not an egotistical person, but he knew his city would be better off in his hands and those of his supporters if worse came to worst.
“Maybe our blood won’t be important anymore with the far speaking trait dying out,” he suggested.
Sage shook his head, a gesture he had copied from Jamie and his friends. “The old empress hopes that the boy who sits on the throne will yet show some talent and, even if that doesn’t happen, she plans to breed the young princesses back into the line, certain that Lord Mathiah’s strong abilities will descend to their sons.”
“That means we are not forgotten,” Jamie said slowly.
THREE
Guards stood constantly at their doors now, but Adaeze and Lillianne were still princesses of the realm and even as the flashing lights and whirring sounds of what Claire still thought of as alien weapons resounded through the palace, no one objected when they decided to go for a walk with their mother. Not as long as they didn’t leave the complex of buildings that made up the royal residence.
Adaeze, grimly certain for a girl who was only thirteen, insisted Claire walk between the two girls. Convinced that her grandmother would not be at all averse to seeing an ‘accident’ befall her daughter-in-law, she believed her mother needed that protection.
Claire, feeling sure an interchange of opinions occurred silently between the older of her daughters and the guard captain, tried to appear as calm as she would have on any ordinary day within the Gare palace. Walking between the two girls, she even allowed herself an amusing mental image.
She felt like a bantam hen strolling with two full-sized chicks, moving between her two tall daughters.
She was grateful that while she couldn’t communicate with the Aremians except through speech, neither could they sense her thoughts. Her mind was a blank tablet to those around her, something that made them think her limited.
She’d show them the people of Earth had a brilliance and resilience of their own.
And as for her girls, she had passed on to them half of that distant heritage where she had been just another girl from Chicago, resourceful enough to find her own way in a life independent of her abusive father and uncaring stepmother. All of that seemed long ago now. She had lived as the empress of the Aremian Empire for half her life, but now she, who had relied so long on her husband’s abilities and position, would go back to being that fearless young fighter to save her daughters and herself from the horrors their grandmother and the Gare aristos had in mind for them.
They had to escape and as far as she could see only two possibilities lay before them. They could flee to the rebels on the pirate world of Kyria, or they could do their best to get to Jamie and her other friends on New London.
Underneath their clothing they had concealed a fortune in the most valuable of the jewels Mathiah had given her over the years. She could only hope that these would buy their way to Sanctuary. She didn’t think either of her daughters would like being pirates.
Well, maybe Adaeze would, but she was fairly sure Lillianne would turn up her pretty nose at the lifestyle of the rebellious people of Kyria.
With the help of loyal servants, they evaded the watching eyes and exchanged their elegant garments for the humble clothing worn by kitchen workers. Claire and Adaeze were able to hide their long hair underneath the bonnets that such simple women wore and Claire found herself dressed in the straight, short gown commonly worn by little girls.
She didn’t mind pretending to be a child again. It was like playing a role in a drama, something she’d always enjoyed back at school. She might look like the infant of this trio, but her girls knew who was really there to be in charge and look after them.
In fifteen years of being the empress of one of the largest and most complicated societies in the known universe, she had learned a few things.
With the exception of the guards Mere had imported from the army, most of the people in the castle were loyal to her and the princesses. They had been absolutely devoted to the late emperor and he’d left her as regent. That was enough for them.
Eyes turned away, careful not to look too closely as they slipped one step at a time down to the lower levels of the palace and into the extensive caverns below.
“It’s so dark down here,” Lillianne whispered as they went deeper and deeper to areas unused for centuries. Claire reached out a hand for each girl pulling them closer to her.
“We’ve got to do this, Lilli,” Adaeze whispered fiercely. “I will not marry Cousin Varg! He’s pale and snotty nosed and mean. I’ve seen him torture animals.”
“I don’t want to marry one of the cousins either.” Claire could feel her usually composed young daughter shiver. “I’m too young to be married.”
That was true. At eleven Lilli had not yet come into her womanhood, but Adaeze was already thirteen and the women of the Gare were usually given in marriage as soon as they could possibly conceive children in hope their offspring would carry the much desired far talking gift.
They whispered their grandmother’s plans to Claire as they crept along the darkened corridors of the lowest levels of the palace. Mere had made it clear to her granddaughters that Michel was only a temporary expedient unless, as sometimes happened, he carried a latent talent that might expose itself as he grew up.
But while they were hoping for that, Adaeze and Lillianne could provide new possibilities in their progeny. And she was anxious to remove the negative influence of their mother from their lives.
That was Mere’s weakness. She was too candid. She had admitted to her granddaughters that their mom was expendable.
This disclosure made them united in their determination to escape. Now they slipped out of the palace in the darkness, meeting a prearranged boatman on the Blue River that flowed past the palace, confining the ongoing revolt to the other sides because of the deep and dangerous waters that guarded the south walls.
Looking like two servant girls and a child being taken away from the violence by a family member skilled at traveling the treacherous waters, they stood waiting for his approach.
The boatman, an aged but powerful man who had served Mathiah from the time he was a child and whose loyalty to his family had no bounds, saw them into the boat and with silent oars rowed them among other boats on the waterway, skillfully maneuvering through the swift waters away from the palace.
By the time Jamie and his cohorts left Terrainaine, they could feel the difference in the atmosphere. As they loaded the weapons they’d gained in trade for their peaches, Jamie sensed they were being watched by unfriendly eyes in this city where they had always been treated much as adored, though lesser beings. Now there was open hostility in their regard and Sage had warned them against returning anytime soon. He was sure that at any hour, he would receive an edict warning him against selling them anything resembling weapons.
Nightmare Kingdom: A Romance of the Future Page 2