Ammonite Stars (Omnibus): Ammonite Galaxy #4-5

by Gillian Andrews

  “I want you to help me,” he whispered.

  “Me?” For the life of her, Grace couldn’t think what this boy who was still twelve could need of her.

  “I need another guard.”

  “But ... I can’t ... I don’t know how ...”

  Mandalon grinned. “Not you, Grace. I hardly think the rest of Sell would let me have a renegade as a bodyguard. No, I was thinking of those two Namuri you know.”

  “Petra and Tallen?”

  The leader of Sell nodded. “I met them when Amanita tried to kill your mother, remember? I want the boy to come over here to Valhai.”

  Grace did remember, all too well. “Tallen is not ... available, right now,” she said slowly, “but I think Petra would be. She is on Kwaide, guarding my mother, although I am sure Magestra would be happy to second her to you. But surely—” she indicated the large numbers of guards he already had around him, “—surely you have enough guards already?”

  The boy made a face. “I know. I should have, but I have the horrid feeling that something is about to happen, that I would be stupid to put my trust only in Sellite guards.” He shook his head. “Of course, I may be imagining it”—he seemed to be almost cross with himself—“but after what happened with Gorgamon ...”

  Grace remembered that one of his own chamber guards had tried to assassinate Mandalon the previous year, and that the boy had only survived because he had taken precautions with Arcan, who had been able to act quickly enough to save his life.

  “Wouldn’t Arcan rescue you if you are in any danger? Don’t you have a way to contact him?”

  “Yes. I still have a way to contact him, but the problem is, I think it is now common knowledge. I am scared that I might be attacked when I am asleep, and have no time to press the orthogel that Arcan left me.”

  “I see.” Grace got the sudden impression of night after night of sleeplessness, and felt sorry for Mandalon. “You don’t trust the Sellite guards anymore.” She was noticing the deep black circles under his eyes now.

  Mandalon tried to look proud and haughty, but failed rather spectacularly. Grace got an overwhelming impression of a young man at the end of his tether, and she felt sorry for him. He had been so brave to stand up at the meeting to decide the future of Valhai when he was only ten, yet she suddenly realized how very barren and lonely his life must have been since then. He didn’t deserve such isolation.

  “And you think Petra can help? You know that she is only a year older than you are?”

  To her surprise, Mandalon 50 stared rather uncomfortably at his own feet. “I know. But there was something special about them. The Namuri seemed ... seemed whole-hearted about their mission. I got the feeling that they wouldn’t let an emptor down. Not if they had taken their ... their blood oath, I think they called it.”

  “They take their duties very seriously,”

  “I know. I trust them.”

  Grace smiled. “From what I know of them, you are right to. They are obsessed by their oaths, and would die before breaking them.”

  The boy looked up. “That is what I thought. And I thought that was admirable, although they were a bit ... belligerent.”

  Grace gave a wry smile. That they certainly were.

  Mandalon was still speaking, “They were different from anybody I have ever met before. But I wanted the boy to come here. I’m not sure the girl ... it would be much more difficult logistically. Are you sure that you can’t get hold of Tallen?”

  A shadow passed over Grace’s face. “I’m sure. He is ... in a place where there is no communication possible. Even Arcan wouldn’t be able to contact him. Still, I think I could persuade Petra to come.” Grace remembered the fierce Namuri girl as being intransigent, and having a distinctly set mind of her own, and rectified hastily. “At least, I can ask her.”

  Mandalon considered the possibility of having the girl Namuri as his private bodyguard. He was clearly disappointed, but finally accepted that if he wanted a Namuri, Petra was his only option.

  “Will you?” His face lightened slightly. “I feel for some reason that I can put my trust in their clan, even if she is only a girl.” He didn’t seem to notice the look Grace gave him. “Tell her it is just until after the Second Valhai Votation. Until the new laws have been passed. There are too many old-timers who want to stop that happening. Afterwards, then I think I will be safe. It will be too late for them to be able to change anything.”

  Grace nodded her understanding, and was turning to leave, when Mandalon grabbed again at her arm.

  “But when she comes here, no-one else must know I have asked for her.”

  “Then why has she come? What do you want me to tell people?”

  They both considered that for a long time.

  “She could be here to teach you Coriolan,” suggested Grace.

  Mandalon shook his head. “Spoken it since I was five. And anyway, my guards would recognize her, and know who she is.”

  “She could teach you combat?”

  Again he shook his head. “Nobody would believe that. I have three high masters to teach me combat training.”

  “Then I don’t see ... except ...”

  “What?”

  “Perhaps we could say that she has been seconded to you by the New Kwaide government as a security advisor?”

  Mandalon snapped his fingers. “Got it!” He gave a broad smile. “We will say it is part of an interplanetary exchange program. I will send one of my guards to Kwaide, and she can come here in his place!”

  Grace thought of Cimma’s face when she heard that she was about to gain a Sellite guard for the next few weeks. She found the corners of her mouth twitching.

  “That sounds right. In fact, it might be a very good idea to implement something like that. I will tell Cimma to put your guard into the intense combat training program. Now, how can we ...” she paused to think about it, and then nodded. “Of course! I will ask Aracely to send you a proposal backed by the Orthogel Foundation, as part of an interplanetary goodwill program. That would sound quite feasible, I think.”

  “We would have to do it quickly?” He seemed anxious, and was looking around to check that they were not being overheard.

  Grace nodded. “I will travel to Kwaide immediately. Arcan can’t transport me onto the surface, but I will ask Cimma and Petra to shuttle up to the orbital station straight away. You should have your answer tonight. You sent out an invitation to the orthogel entity and his foundation for the evening meal, didn’t you? Aracely will be attending, and I can ask her to suggest it at that. Perhaps you could arrange for her to make a speech? Providing Petra agrees, of course.”

  The head of Sell nodded, and they spent a few moments genuinely admiring the handiwork on the gold weave robe he was going to wear for the Votation, then Grace curtsied before the young man and slipped away, lowering her gaze to escape the curiosity of the surrounding guards.

  AS SOON AS Grace set foot on the Kwaide Orbital Space Station, she could see that something was not quite right. Personnel were scurrying through the corridors in a clearly preoccupied way, and barely lifted their heads to smile a welcome at her. She frowned, and made her own way as quickly as she could to the bridge area.

  Ledin looked up with a harassed expression, which disappeared completely when he saw her. He bounded over to her and gave her a fierce hug.

  “What are you doing here?”

  She explained, and Ledin gave an order over his shoulder for Magestra Cimma and Petra to be escorted up to the space station as quickly as possible.

  Grace tilted her head to one side. “What is the matter?”

  Ledin looked around him at the bustle ruefully. “You noticed?” Then he gave a sigh. “The Elders have contacted the Coriolans directly. They seem to think they have some allies there. Some new group led by—”

  “—Let me guess. Tartalus?”

  He grinned. “Who else? Anyway, the Elders have demanded their constitutional rights to set up diplomatic relati
ons with our neighbour planet, and there doesn’t seem to be any legal way to stop them, although we are trying.”

  Grace looked worried. “What? We don’t want Tartalus let loose on Kwaide, surely? You know what he is like. You were there when he tried to kill Six.”

  Ledin lifted his shoulders. “There is nothing I can do, Grace. I like it even less than you do. He is about the worst representative of Coriolis that I could imagine.”

  “The Elders will love him.”

  He blew a sigh. “Yes. They might have been made for each other.”

  “He’s not coming here, is he?” Grace looked around her at the space station, disturbed.

  “Afraid so. Due to trader in at any moment. That is why ...” he pointed to all the fuss behind him, “... you find us rather disorganized. He is arriving with a party of ten, and the president of New Kwaide is coming up here to greet them. Plus, we have had to agree to a party of Elders shuttling up too, which means that all delicate material must be shielded.”

  Grace frowned. “I didn’t choose my moment very well, did I?”

  Ledin gave his crooked smile. “That could never matter. But I am afraid I have no time to spend with you. I’ll have to leave you to your own devices. Will you be all right?”

  “Of course. I’ll see you next weekend, over by the Emerald Lake.”

  Ledin’s brow cleared. “You have no idea how much I am looking forward to that. It is what is keeping me going!”

  Grace left him to get on with his work, and made her way slowly back to the shuttle docking area, to wait for her mother and Petra. She was feeling unaccountably tired, and, as they would be several hours, she found a blanket in one of the day rooms, managed some degree of comfort by sprawling across three of the joined seats, covered herself up, and fell fast asleep. She didn’t even wake up when a security detail checked out who the person slumped across the waiting area seating was. They queried it with Ledin, who decided to leave her where she was. She obviously needed the rest, and was the one new arrival today he knew to be no threat to the station.

  SHE DIDN’T KNOW how much time had passed when she heard people talking. At some stage she had tugged the blanket over her head, to block out the light, and she was about to remove it when she recognized the voices. Her heart gave a tiny flutter as she realized who they were – Six’s sisters, who had both joined the wrong side on the Kwaidian civil war and married Elders on Kwaide. They must have moved aside from the rest of the group, for Grace could make out what they were saying quite clearly.

  “We have to get this Coriolan to bring visitors to Kwaide,” Samaliya was muttering to Jalana. “The old order is finished unless we can generate some income from somewhere. I have heard that he and his friends enjoy hunting. I am sure we can arrange something that would entertain them. Some sort of drag hunt, perhaps.”

  “We will have to,” Jalana agreed. “Otherwise there will be nothing left to inherit by the time our sons are old enough. Thanks to our dear brother, the Elders have lost all power and most of their income.”

  Samaliya’s voice was harsh. “I shall never forgive him for abandoning us,” she said. “—To go off with a meritocrat and a Sellite! They deserve everything they get!”

  Jalana gave a low growl of agreement. “Let’s hope that fate will put them in our path, one day. We shall know what to do if it does.”

  “He was ready to push that button, you know. He was about to kill his own sister!”

  Grace shifted uncomfortably under the blanket. She herself had taken that choice, to spare Six from a terrible decision. It wasn’t something she felt able to remember with pride. It brought back memories of that terrible day, too, when Gerrant and Solian had gone to their death.

  With a sigh, she pushed back the blanket, and sat up.

  The two sisters stared, and Samaliya’s voice as she recognized Grace was waspish. “You!”

  Jalana’s eyes narrowed. “You were spying on us!”

  Grace smiled wryly. “I wasn’t! I had simply fallen asleep, waiting for my mother to arrive. In any case, you shouldn’t be telling each other secrets in an open corridor, surely? How are you, Jalana, Samaliya?”

  Six’s sisters interchanged a look, and didn’t seem particularly anxious to reply. To Grace’s relief, at that moment Calab, Jalana’s husband, walked over and ushered them hurriedly away. He clearly didn’t want them to have any contact with one of the enemies of the Elders, even if the war was over.

  Grace looked after them sadly. She knew that Six still missed his sisters, and was hoping that one day he would be able to rectify all his mistakes, and that they would forgive him. He had been desolated to find that they had chosen to make their lives with Elders in order to survive, and she knew that he blamed himself. Personally, she thought that both girls had changed beyond reconciliation. They had too much invested in their new lives to make bridges, and, from what she had just heard, they had even gone one step beyond that, and were thinking of revenge.

  A shiver ran through her, and she pulled the blanket back around her. It felt suddenly chilly in this passageway. She had lived through something similar in her own family, and she hated to think of Six in the same position.

  She sighed. The Sellites had a lot to answer for. They had ruined so many lives.

  She watched as the party from Kwaide was escorted to one of the conference chambers, and then turned as she heard another shuttle snap into the couplings of the space lock. This might be her mother.

  It was. Cimma gave her daughter a hug, and even Petra managed a smile, which was most unusual for the Namuri girl.

  Grace grinned back. “Matri, I hope all is well with you. Petra, how is the practice going?”

  Cimma laughed. “She is the youngest in the advanced class, and will soon be the best.”

  Petra lost her smile. “Namuri should be the best. It is required.”

  Cimma touched her arm. “You shall be. Very soon.”

  The girl was beginning to smile again when she caught sight of a party, approaching them from the docking facilities for larger ships.

  In a second, her demeanour changed from relaxed to something very like the stillness of a Tattula cat prior to an attack. A strange expression crossed her face. “What is he doing here?” she hissed.

  Grace turned around. Tartalus had just arrived; he and his group were being escorted to the bridge area and the conference chamber leading off it.

  “That is Tartalus,” she began, “He is—”

  “I know who he is. Why is he here?” Petra was still rigid, trembling with some sort of emotion.

  Cimma touched the Namuri girl on the shoulder, and looked puzzled. She knew nothing about Tartalus’s ambushes. “He is here to visit the Elders. It has nothing to do with New Kwaide.” She looked down at the girl’s arm, and saw that all the hairs were standing on end. “Do you know him?”

  Petra gradually began to relax again. “I know him. All Namuri know him.” She watched him pass, and her normally light eyes seemed to have turned dark. “He is loathsome. He makes my skin crawl.”

  “Loathsome?” Cimma echoed.

  Petra’s jaw set. “I cannot not be in the same room with him – or the rest of his party. Is that why you have brought us here, Grace?”

  Grace shook her head. “I had no idea they were even going to be here.” She looked around, spotted an open day cabin, and gestured towards it. “We can talk in there. Are you all right?”

  Petra nodded. “He has gone.” Her skin was regaining its usual colour. “But one day, I shall kill him.”

  Cimma looked surprised. “I thought the Namuri were opposed to violence.”

  Petra looked along the corridor where Tartalus and his party had disappeared. “We make exceptions – for some people.” Her expression was a promise, and both Grace and her mother felt a shiver of apprehension run up and then down their backs. Petra sounded deadly serious.

  They sat down, and Grace explained what Mandalon had asked for. Petra at first seem
ed rather reticent about the whole thing.

  “Why can’t he use his own guards?” she muttered. “He has enough of them.”

  Grace recounted what had happened the year before, when Gorgamon had very nearly managed to kill Mandalon, and explained that Mandalon had been forced to choose between dying himself and letting his attacker die.

  Petra gave a snort. “Well, that doesn’t require much brain!”

  “He hasn’t been able to trust anybody else since then. And, believe me, Petra, there are a lot of people on Sell who think that Mandalon is about to ruin the whole of the Sellite empire. You would have your job cut out for you if you decided to accept this.”

  The Namuri girl pressed her lips together. “What about Magestra Cimma? How can I leave her unprotected? Because if they are sending one of those useless guards of Mandalon’s to take my place here, she might just as well be.”

  Cimma opened her mouth, but Grace intervened. “Ledin will undertake to look after her in your absence,” she said quickly. “You need not worry about her safety.”

  “N-no. I suppose not. If Ledin promises to look after her ...”

  Grace gave the Namuri girl an encouraging smile. “Mandalon really does need you, Petra. I thought he looked as if he couldn’t take the stress for a moment more. And it is a very great compliment from the head of Sell that he trusts you. After all, he has only met you twice.”

  “There are no better guards than Namuri.”

  Grace took a breath. “But will you do it?”

  The girl considered. “I suppose so, if you want me to,” she finally agreed, grudgingly. “But I will have to transfer the blood oath.”

  “Of course. And you will have to wear whatever uniform he gives you.”

  “Oh no! I’m not going that far. Forget it!”

  Cimma inclined her head. “It is merely camouflage. If you went into battle you would have to wear special clothes.”