The Iron Altar Series Box Set One: Books 1 to 3

by Casey Lea

  There was uproar at that, at least by High Council standards. Voices rose above a murmur and the crowd surged forward. Blizzard slipped an arm around Goldown to support her against the press, but she hardly noticed. How would her father react? Could this resistance possibly grow? No, the Royal Guard was already pushing people back and Raptor stepped in front of Sharpeye to shield him. Goldown sighed and relaxed against her husband.

  “Hold,” the Speaker called with mind and voice.

  There was instant silence and Raptor looked up from an image at his wrist with a grateful nod, then stepped to the front of the dais. “I've urgent news. We seem to be under some strange new attack. Ice has swallowed a number of strategic satellites and four ships have been lost on the border.”

  The crowd was completely diverted. “Ships lost?”

  “Where?”

  “How fresh are these reports?”

  There was a crash when Sharpeye hurled his seat into the press of Councillors. “WAR,” he roared over shocked cries. “I am at war. Will you sorry fools finally do your duty and stand behind me?”

  There was a moment of silence, before everyone except the guards dropped to their knees. The Arck was breathing hard, but he swung to Raptor and gripped him by the tunic. “Details. What have my cursed nephews done?”

  “Sire,” the head of the BRP answered calmly, but Sharpeye shook him.

  “Speak up!”

  “Yes. Sire, energy has been drained from four fleet vessels and seven satellites at last count. The attack infiltrated whenever data was sent by the satellites, so we've shut down all communications. It seems the curfew may have saved us. Our cities and planets would have been frozen by now with normal interactions.”

  Sharpeye released Raptor and spun in a circle of flapping robes, until he looked like a sun-kissed vulture rising on a thermal. Goldown had never seen her father more ecstatic and the sight made her ill. He had saved them all.

  “I was right,” he crowed. “I. Was. Right. My curfew kept my Empire safe and you useless parasites alive and tweeting. I thwarted a vicious Alliance attack-”

  “No, Sire” Raptor interrupted and Sharpeye stopped in mid-rant.

  He teetered on the edge of the dais, before stepping awkwardly down. “No?”

  “Information gathering is slow, because we daren't accept uncompressed visual data, but this attack began a day past and it didn't start with us. The first ships frozen were on the Rim, followed by mermaridian, gentik, t'ssaa and Alliance planets. The galaxy is in chaos. Billions are dead and whole worlds are destroyed.”

  A disbelieving silence gripped the room.

  “How sure is this?” Goldown whispered and Raptor looked around to hold her gaze.

  “Certain-sure. The attack has stopped and all that was frozen is thawing, but the past day has been one of utter calamity.”

  The Arck slowly subsided to sit on the edge of the dais. He studied his Councillors with a dazed expression, but no one could find any words, not even the Speaker.

  Instead, it was Sharpeye who spoke first. “Wondrous, wondrous day.” He rocked forward and back, clutching his knees, while everyone stared in horror. “We can crush them all. Every one of them. Muck, lizards, gentik, Harvesters and the cursed Alliance. I can rule everywhere.” He abruptly stopped rocking to press his temples and glare at Raptor. “How many times must I order it? Turn down the drakking humming.”

  Raptor paled and pulled himself stiffly to attention. “Sire, there is no unusual sound. What you describe can't be found anywhere in the palace.”

  The Arck's top lip curled back from very white teeth. “Traitor.” He raised his arm and his com began to glow. Goldown could see it vibrating on her father's wrist and then an audible hum filled the room. Sharpeye made a fist to point the weapon at Raptor. “Down.”

  The Leader of the BRP sank to the floor, to crouch with one leg under him and the other still upright, but bent in half so the foot rested flat on the floor. Down on one knee was the lowest position a security officer would ever assume while on duty.

  He bowed his head and the Arck's blaster hummed louder. “Obey me. Stop the noise.”

  Raptor looked up to calmly meet his ruler's gaze. “Sire, the only hum at present is coming from your com.”

  “My com.” Sharpeye threw his hands up to clutch his head, despite the fully charged weapon at his wrist. “Of course, of course, certain-sure. The most cunning treachery of all. My com is sabotaged.”

  “Sire,” Raptor added more sharply, “please remove your charged blaster from your head.'

  The Arck dropped his hands and began clawing at his wrist. His com sprang open and fell, to bounce from Raptor's head to the floor. Sharpeye backed up and tripped against the dais. He fell, but began to scrabble away from the golden band, never taking his eyes off it. “Get that treacherous thing away. Place it in custody. Now.”

  Raptor retrieved the com and rose. He tossed it to the nearest guard, who deftly caught it and disappeared at once. Sharpeye had reached the far end of the dais and stopped against the stained crystal window.

  Raptor strode to his ruler, then half-knelt beside him. “Sire, I have much to report. The Alliance systems are in disarray and we've gained many secrets. My spy programs have penetrated deep since the ice invasion. I found images that you need to see, but I thought to present them in private.”

  Sharpeye stared blankly and his jaw trembled. “The humming. It's still there.”

  “Apologies, sire. I will try to trace that for you, but first I need your approval for a most delicate arrest.”

  Sharpeye finally focused on his subordinate. “Arrest?”

  “Indeed, sire. The images I have are deeply disturbing. We retrieved a file segment that shows the murder of your son.”

  Goldown's heart constricted until it felt like a rock in her chest. Was it possible? Had all of her secrecy and sabotage been wasted? Her fronds sensed Blizzard watching her, but all she could do was stare at her father. Blizzard began to move, sliding further away from her, to close on the Arck. Still she could only see the old man hunched at the back of the dais. Would he spare her? Would he remember she was pregnant?

  Sharpeye gestured sharply and a hologram appeared. The Princess watched unblinking. She saw herself back away when her brother fell. Saw Blizzard lean on Falkyn's arm to stab the prince. Saw blood. Saw Falkyn cry out in protest, but heard nothing. The world marched on in eerie silence, while the scrap of video played again. And again.

  Goldown looked up and saw her father's face twisted in denial, his mouth wide and screaming, but still she heard nothing. Sharpeye plunged forward, pushing Raptor to the ground and leaping over him. The Arck was charging straight at her, yelling without sound.

  Their eyes met and she realized he knew. He’d seen through her costume on the ledge and guessed how she’d used Blizzard. After all, the killer’s reward was as obvious as her swollen abdomen. Patri knew exactly what she’d done.

  Her lips shaped 'Papi', as if that childish cry could save her, but he didn't pause. Instead, he launched himself from the dais, diving straight at Goldown.

  Another figure flew through the air and Blizzard cannoned into Sharpeye from the side. He rammed the Arck so they landed together, skidding away from Goldown. She could finally hear again and the chamber was in chaos filled with yells, while her father's roars drowned everyone else. He had landed on top of Blizzard and had his hands locked tight round her husband's throat.

  “NO,” Goldown screamed, pushing through the milling guards. They all tried to surge toward the Arck and she was carried with them.

  Sharpeye and Blizzard rolled apart and the Princess fell to her knees beside her husband. He struggled for breath, unable to talk and Goldown squeezed his hand. Her lips shaped 'I love you,' and he smiled.

  His fronds stirred to return the emotion. Stay back, sweet. Take care for our child. He tried to push her aside, but she stroked his palm and held his gaze, while slipping a knife into her hand. She tensed,
then drove it hard between his ribs and up into his heart. He made no protest, no spoken sound of any sort. There was a faint wheeze of air escaping his body, but that was all. He twitched once and his fingers spasmed, clutching her tight, before going limp. She dropped his hand and it fell, to slither off his body then thump to the floor. Blizzard was gone.

  Goldown rocked forward until her hair curtained them both, but after a second she regained control. I'll mourn you later, I swear, her mind promised, before she lifted her head to face the room. “My brother's murderer is dead. Is the Arck recovered?” She tried to rise and Raptor slipped a hand under her elbow to help her up.

  “I'm deeply sorry, Serenity, but your father is dead. Stabbed by your husband.”

  Goldown gave a cry and paused. She let a sob catch in her throat, before sinking to her knees beside Sharpeye. She leaned over his body, checking frantically for any life signs, but there were none. Wondrous, perfect Blizzard. He knew how to make a sacrifice count. She threw herself across her father's bloody form with a wail.

  Everyone in the room was in motion, pushing closer to see the dead Arck for themselves. A murmur grew and voices rose, questioning, wondering and daring to discuss what had happened.

  Goldown ignored them all. Her fingers, hidden under her belly, were busy on her com. She sent out a signal to erase the altered cells that she had slowly, so slowly, introduced to her father's inner ear. The source of the mysterious hum disappeared. He was gone and she was safe. She’d got away with everything. She had to clamp her fronds tight behind her ears to hide her joy. What a glorious day. She’d turned it all from disaster to triumph.

  Goldown struggled to stand and a dozen hands instantly helped her up. “Thank you. Thank you all. Such a shock. This day will live in infamy. My first proclamation will be to mark it as a day of mourning for all future generations.”

  “A noble sentiment, Serenity,” Raptor said, “that our next Arck will surely concur with.”

  Goldown's elation lost its wild edge and the people around her came into focus again, but she looked only at Raptor. “I will succeed my father.”

  “Possibly, but you were neither Favored nor announced. There is also the question of the legitimacy of your father's rule. He was legally installed as Regent, but later anointed himself Arck. The Speaker never called him such in public and refused to acknowledge him outside the High Council.”

  Goldown felt ill and the baby was kicking relentlessly. How could they treat her like this? “Your objection is ludicrous.”

  “Perhaps, Princess, but I can assure you the succession is contentious. It requires a Council vote.”

  “Nonsense.”

  A metal-tipped staff crashed against stone and Goldown winced. She glared at the Speaker, but he ignored her. “A vote has been called. Does this have support from the High Council?”

  “Ye,” dozens of voices cried, without a single dissent.

  “Asked and answered,” the Speaker proclaimed. “The High Council will vote to choose a new Arck. Do any wish to proclaim candidates for the Ascension election?”

  “I’ll nominate a claimant,” Raptor answered at once. “Admiral Nightwing FarFlight.”

  Goldown staggered and this time nobody caught her. They were all too busy muttering about possible choices. Their choices. Didn't they know this was an Empire, not a democracy?

  Raptor continued without opposition. “Nightwing's right to rule comes from his mother who was Arkyn-in-waiting before her death and from her father, Arck Hawkeye the Great. He completes the proper line of succession, from father to daughter to son.”

  The Speaker stepped forward and whistled sharply for silence. “A candidate has been named. Will any support this claim?”

  “Ye.”

  “Aye.”

  “Certain-sure.”

  The answers were immediate and the speaker slammed his staff against the ground. “Admiral Nightwing FarFlight is accepted as claimant for the throne. Do any others wish to contest his succession?”

  “Hail yes.” Princess Goldown stepped up onto the dais and looked down on the Councillors, before wafting across to drape herself over the back of her dead father's restored chair. She sobbed quietly and everyone was silent, until she looked up with wet cheeks.

  “No-one can replace Patri, yet we cannot leave our mighty empire without direction. I accept the need for a new arck, but I can never accept Nightwing. His loyalty lies with the Alliance, not us. His wife is an alien and his children half-breeds.” Some of the councillors muttered angrily, but more nodded a finger in agreement. “I only wish we had a pure kres line to continue on from my father.”

  Goldown looked up from under her lashes and old Lord Korryn shuffled forward. “I don't understand. Do we not have an heir named by the last arck? Is Princess Brighteye not to inherit?”

  Lady Chalice snorted noisily. “She's a fetus. I can't see her issuing commands in the near future and we need a ruler now. I nominate Princess Goldown. She should follow her father in the ancient way, son to daughter.”

  The speaker whistled again and this time it took a minute for the room to grow quiet. “I adjudge two new candidates. Princess Brighteye has been named. Will any support her claim?”

  “Of course.” Lord Korryn sniffed and looked around the room. “No respect for the dead.”

  The crash of the staff on the ground covered his criticism.

  “Princess Brighteye is accepted as a claimant. Princess Goldown has been named. Will any support her claim?”

  “I will,” Lady Chalice called, crossing her arms under an ample bosom. “The young mother deserves her chance.”

  The staff struck again and the Speaker lifted it high. “A vote is required. The Council will be summoned in one full cycle of the moons. The Empire is now in mourning and will be leaderless for the requisite month. Peace be granted to Sharpeye the Shrewd.”

  He bowed his head and was joined by nearly everyone in the room. They spoke as one, accepting the Speaker's new honorific for their dead leader. “Peace to Sharpeye the Shrewd.”

  Goldown bowed her head, but stood in silence. Shrewd indeed. If her father had ever had any sense he would have treated her more kindly. She’d always loved him and it could all have been so different. Her head started to spin and she tripped off the dais, to lean on someone's arm. What would her life have been like if her father had loved her, favored her, given her all she deserved?

  Goldown sniffled at such a scenario and an unknown hand patted her gently then offered a sympathetic squeeze, but she scarcely noticed. If she could have been a different person then perhaps Wing would have stayed. The Princess straightened in sudden realization. If Nightwing wished to compete for the throne he’d have to come to Kresynt. He’d be on her territory and when he lost the vote, she could claim whatever she liked from him. The Council would insist he brought his disgusting family and with them in her grip she could demand his love, his life, his very soul. Goldown gulped and there was a murmur of pity from those around her.

  “Excuse me. Please.” Goldown gathered her skirts to run and just made it from the room before she started to laugh.

  56

  Aftermath

  Twelve Days Later – Alliance 20

  Darsey took two strides with a sack of flour over her shoulder before dumping it on a pile of matching bags. The float panel holding them swayed, then steadied and its driver offered a scowl, then a nod. A thrust of compressed air drove the float over the edge of the plateau and whipped more hair from Darsey's braid. She sighed and tried to tuck strands back behind her ears. It was a very long time since her body had labored like this, but still the supply ships kept landing at the makeshift port below.

  More vessels were already dropping from the darkening sky, angling for a spot on the swampy ground of the bay, but at least she had her feet out of the mud up here. Her eyes strayed to the bog which had once been her home town and she flinched. Only a few ruined walls and tree stumps remained to show where one of Blos
som's loveliest villages had been. Her throat tried to close and she swiped the back of her hand across her eyes. Where the hell was the next shipment?

  And where was her husband? The thought slipped past her best control and gave shape to the concern gnawing at her. No one had heard from Wing in over a week, there was chaos on the outer worlds and he was officially MIA. Her gut found a few more knots to tie itself into.

  “Hey, you.” A voice pulled her from her brooding and she attempted a smile.

  “Hey, Clear.”

  “You look tired. When did you last sleep?”

  Darsey shrugged and turned away from the sorry view. “Can't sleep. Com will keep me going. There's still plenty to do.”

  “Too true,” a hearty voice exclaimed and Darsey turned back in surprise. “Never a truer word was spoken by lovelier lips, and I mean as lovely as a classy lady with her own money.” A stranger was climbing to join them and Darsey watched him approach in horrified fascination.

  Is that a pet on his face? Clear wondered and Darsey had to work hard not to snigger.

  More like road kill.

  Jileea appeared behind the newcomer and glared at him. “No cheek, or you can forget the contract, Mac.”

  “Never any cheek from me, dear lady. They're hidden in the beard you know and under the trews.”

  Jileea hit her companion on the shoulder, but he grinned at Darsey undaunted. “Duncan MacKenzie at your service,” he said and folded into a stiff bow.

  Darsey moved forward with a smile of recognition. “Mac. It's nice to meet you in person.”

  The human flipped upright in surprise. “And it's a delight to see you in the flesh, but it's a fresh joy surely. Unless we’ve met before and I’ve forgotten? If so, turn me out to pasture and hang a closed sign on my head. Senility clearly has me in its sights, if I've missed having you in my sights.”

  Darsey extended her hand and Mac seized it enthusiastically. “Darsey Ice Flight,” she managed rather breathlessly, while he pumped her arm.