by Sara King
But Dragomir wasn’t finished. Leaning down so that he could look into Matthais’s eyes, he added, “But you do it again and you’re going to find yourself oddly and incurably aroused by the canine form.” Then, smiling sweetly, the Emp handed the Praetorian back his sword.
Victory choked. On the ground, her brother looked pale.
“We understand each other, then?” Dragomir asked, still smiling at Matthias.
“Perfectly,” Matthias managed, getting to his feet. “My sister and I will take our Praetorian and go. I will see to it you receive suitable payment for your troubles.” Turning back to his men, he gestured at the ship. “I just got the call that Imperial investigators have given us the go-ahead to take the palace. Preliminary examination revealed more corruption than even we suspected, and they will back our assault to Imperium auditors, but we need to move fast. They fear that Father will get wind of their investigation and begin destroying evidence.” Motioning to his men, he started up the ramp of the ship.
“The Emp is coming with me,” Victory blurted, before she had a chance to think about it.
“And his brother with me,” Whip added.
When the prince hesitated and turned, his brow raised at the two of them, Whip lowered her head sheepishly. “That is, milord, if it pleases you.”
“It pleases me,” Victory stated.
Matthias glanced at the two natives for a moment, then shrugged. “If they’re willing to help, we could certainly use them in freeing me from the dungeon.”
“Freeing you…?” Victory asked.
Her brother snorted. “Our good Adjudicator Keene has me trapped in his dungeon… Or so he thinks.” He grinned. “I’ll have to pay David a few extra months’ salary, by the end of this. He wasn’t too keen on the idea of taking my place in the basement, even if it was just for a few days.”
Lion glanced at Matthias with a frown. “David?”
“My brother has a double,” Victory said. “Surgically altered. Not even Father can tell them apart, but then again, half the time he thinks he’s ranting at my brother, it’s actually David. When David lowers his voice and gives his words a bit of a rumble, they sound almost exactly the same. Matthias keeps him on as a Praetorian, but he really found him begging for scraps in a back alley of Cliff City, back when Matthias took his Great Tour of Mercy.”
Matthias gave Victory an odd look. “You knew?”
Victory snorted. “You don’t think I could recognize my own twin? I caught David wandering the halls with your Praetorian a month or two after your Great Tour. I pulled him aside and confronted him about it. Threatened to call the Inquisitors to come take a blood test on the poor kid. He spilled his guts. Just about peed himself, I think.”
Matthias frowned at her. “And you didn’t tell me you knew?”
Victory shrugged. “You didn’t tell me you were doing it, so I figured you wanted to keep it quiet. Besides. Who really wants to sit through Imperial History lessons?”
Matthias looked disturbed. “Well, let’s hope that Father never made that connection.” Then he shook himself and nodded at his men. “Everything is in place to take the palace at noon two days from now. I have the army and the fleet at ready, despite Father’s beliefs otherwise. His agents have all been caught and eliminated. The only real problem will be father’s Praetorian in the palace.” Matthias sighed. “If I had a choice, I would simply drop a few dozen bombs, level the palace, and build a new one.”
“We need him alive,” Victory said. “Even with what he’s done and the embassy backing us, it would be a crime to kill him.”
Her brother grinned, his green eyes flashing. “And so much more poetic to keep the arrogant bastard alive.”
Victory raised a brow. “You have plans?”
Matthias pulled a titanium collar from under his jacket. “Already had it made. As soon as the investigation is complete, I’m welding it to the bastard’s neck myself.” Etched around the outer rim, the collar said, A Man Without Mercy.
Seeing it, Victory smiled. “When the time comes, I have just the place for him.”
Matthias raised a brow. “Oh? I was going to leave him in a dungeon to think about it for a few decades.”
“Oh no,” Victory laughed. “A convict of such renown deserves much more than that. Somewhere public, and with a Praetorian honor-guard.” Victory turned to Dragomir. Gesturing at the collar, she said, “What do you say? You think Mrs. Cooper could use an extra set of hands cleaning out chicken houses?”
Eyes on the titanium band, Dragomir broke into a slow, malicious smile. “Oh yes.”
That night, the ship humming around them as they sped back to the palace, a smith had removed their collars and a blushing young maid dressed Victory in garb that befitted an Adjudicator. At bedtime, Dragomir gingerly lay down on the bunk behind Victory, keeping a wary eye on Lion, who still watched his every movement like a raptor.
“This okay, you old biddy?” Dragomir growled at Lion, over Victory’s head. He settled a defiant arm over Victory’s stomach.
“Tell him that his manhood leaves his pants and it will be separated from his person,” Lion said.
“She says it’s fine,” Victory said, glaring at her Praetorian.
A few minutes after everyone had settled, Whip and Thor disappeared into the bathroom together and began giggling.
Watching their silhouettes move behind the crack under the door, Dragomir sighed. “They really should use some protection.”
“Whip was sterilized,” Victory said. Her eyes were closed, and she was soaking up the warmth of his hard body behind her. “They sterilize all Praetorian, male and female, the moment they choose their ward.”
“Oh,” Dragomir said. She could hear the wince in his voice when he said, “That’s not good…”
Victory twisted in her bunk to look up at him. “It’s nothing new. They’ve been doing it for a hundred years. It’s part of a Praetorian’s dedication to service.”
Dragomir blushed, looking almost embarrassed. “Uh. Someone should probably tell her to use protection, then.”
Victory frowned. “What do you mean?”
For a long moment, Dragomir seemed to struggle for words. “Remember the nano-poison?” he finally said. “How I even cured her head-cold?”
Victory’s frown deepened.
“I wasn’t being discriminating,” Dragomir said, wincing.
Victory’s eyes widened. She glanced at the bathroom door, then back at Dragomir. “You mean you…?”
Reluctantly, he nodded.
Victory fell back to the bed, staring at the ceiling, the possibilities racing through her mind at a thousand miles a second. Finally, she just shook her head. “Definitely medical tourism,” she said.
An hour later, just as Victory was beginning to fall asleep in Dragomir’s embrace, Thor and Whip opened the door of the restroom and casually stepped out and walked over to their separate bunks, looking as if they were trying to pretend they had not just been the source of the noise that had been keeping everyone else on the ship awake.
Behind her, Dragomir sighed. “Don’t bother telling her to use protection.”
Trust
“This is it,” Matthias said, taking a deep breath as the palace came into view. “Here’s where we find out how many of my men were actually mine, and how many were Father’s, playing both sides.” He lifted the comset to his mouth. Then, glancing nervously at Victory, he said, “Control Tower One, this is Adjudicator Escort Five returning from mission, requesting docking orders.”
The entire cockpit remained tense as Matthias held the com, waiting for a response.
A moment later, a man’s voice said, “Adjudicator Escort Five, you are cleared to land in Hangar Three. Welcome back, milord.”
Matthias let out a huge breath, and Victory relaxed.
“Thank you, Control Tower One,” Matthias said. “We shall be docking immediately.”
“Good luck, milord.”
Matthias put th
e comset up as their pilot eased the ship into the hangar. The building was empty, as planned, but Matthias had his men spread out upon debarkation anyway.
They met a cluster of her brother’s men gathered outside the hangar, along with six familiar female faces, all of whom laughed and hugged Victory, Whip, and Lion the moment they saw them. Then they were moving again, a group of almost thirty, heading for the dungeon. As they moved, they gathered force. It seemed that behind every door, standing in every hall, was another group of men with rifles, ready to fall in behind them. Once they reached the stairs going down, a quarter of the men peeled away from the main body to follow Victory and Matthias to the dungeon, while the rest guarded the path down.
Throughout it all, Dragomir kept close to Victory, his big body within arm’s length at all times.
The dungeon itself was guarded by four men playing cards, who stood up with ashen faces upon seeing the flood of armed soldiers.
“Father doubled the guard,” Matthias said, looking at the four men with amusement. He gestured at them to open the door.
Hastily, they did so.
As Matthias’s men stayed outside, watching the pale guards, Matthias, Victory, the Emp, his brother, and her eight Praetorian entered the cold stone hallway.
Mathias switched on the light.
From down the hall, Matthias’s own voice said, “Took you long enough, ass. I’ve been thinking you forgot me down here.”
Matthias chuckled and went down to David’s cell and opened it. “Not forgotten,” he said, pulling his friend up in a hug. Standing beside him, David was just a fraction of an inch taller, and his face just a shade darker. Matthias unshackled him, slapped him on the back, and gave him a rifle. Then they found their Praetorian, dozens of them, all in one place, several to a cell. Some hadn’t even been shackled, just stripped and thrown behind bars.
“Father is too arrogant,” Matthias said, shaking his head as they freed their guard. As Matthias’s men handed them weapons and armor to dress, Matthias got on the radio with his men deeper in the palace.
“They’ve got Father and his guard pinned in the dining hall,” Matthias said. He turned to Victory. “His chamber should only have a rudimentary guard on it. Get inside, find the documents, and then go to the Constable of Numbers and call for the Embassy. My men and I will keep him situated until we can make his arrest official.”
Victory nodded.
“Oh, and sis?” Matthias said, his green eyes showing a hint of mischievousness. “You wanna be there when I do the honors?” He patted the lump under his bulletproof vest.
Victory felt herself smile. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” she said. Then, gesturing at her escort, she led the way deeper into the palace. With her full nineteen Praetorian and the two natives—also dressed in Praetorian armor—in tow, Victory made an imposing image when she arrived at the Adjudicator’s office at the very back of the palace, overlooking the Gorgarian Cliffs. The single Praetorian on duty, upon seeing Victory and her guard, looked for a moment as if he would fight.
“Bow to the new Adjudicator, and take your place at her back!” Lion snapped, as he reached for his sword. The man swallowed, then glanced at the two dozen men and women in black, then slowly fell to one knee, head down, fist to his heart.
Victory swept past him.
The papers she sought were strewn brazenly across her father’s desk, the utter arrogance leaving her a bit stunned. He really had no fear, she thought, disgusted, as she looked through the falsified accounts. Everything she needed to convict him was right here, guarded by a single man. Every document, every ledger, every shred of proof… She didn’t even have to go to the Constable of Numbers. It was all on his desk and tucked in binders on his shelves. He even had a pile taking up one side of the bed, still splayed open for perusal.
From her father’s private com, Victory made a call to the Imperium Embassy, telling them to send Inquisitors at once, that she and her brother had secured the palace for their perusal, and they had the proof of the Adjudicator’s crimes that they had been seeking.
It took four days for the Imperial Inquisitors to make their final case against the Adjudicator, but when they presented it to the Justae in a highly-publicized trial over open com, the verdict came back unanimous, after only ten minutes of deliberation:
Guilty. The current Adjudicator has failed the trust of his people and is hereby removed from service by order of the Grand Justice of the Imperium. His fate is relinquished to the hands of the local Adjudicate from which he hails. May his successor gain insight from his demise. Glory to the Imperium, and wisdom to its Adjudicators.
Victory, who had been confined to her quarters during the Adjudicator’s trial—all government officials of Mercy having been given strict orders to cease operations and stay in their homes while the Justices made their decision—had watched all of the proceedings in her personal chambers with her full escort of Praetorian, plus Lion, Whip, Dragomir, and Thor. As the Grand Justice made her pronouncement on public com, Victory slumped to her bed in a mixture of relief and exhaustion.
“That’s good, right?” Thor asked. Neither of the brothers had been able to understand the Justices’ pronouncement, and Victory had stopped translating for them once she’d heard the very first word.
“Very good,” Victory said softly. “It means my father is never going to sit on a throne again.”
A moment later, a missive arrived, bearing the Seal of the Imperium. Lion took it from the messenger at the door and carried it across the room to Victory.
“Read it to me,” Victory said, already feeling the weight of responsibility settling over her shoulders.
Lion immediately broke the seal and opened it. “By decree of the Grand Justice, Keene Drafton, First Generation Royal, will be stepping down from the throne of Mercy. As his heirs are not implicated in the evidence arrayed against him, his abdication shall be succeeded by one Second Generation Royal, Victoria Drafton. Glory to the Imperium, and wisdom to its Adjudicators.”
“Wisdom to the Adjudicator,” Lion finished softly, dropping to one knee, lowering her graying head, fist on heart. Whip, too, repeated the hail, dropping to one knee. Behind them, the entire Praetorian Guard fell with them.
Dragomir, who had been frowning at the kneeling Praetorian, looked back at her and said, “I suppose this means you’re the empress, now?”
Victory nodded, still too overwhelmed to believe it.
“And that means you can tell anyone on this rock what to do and they’ve gotta do it?” Dragomir raised a brow in question.
Victory nodded again, the enormity of that fact still settling in her mind.
“Good,” Dragomir said. “Get the old biddy and everyone else out of here.” He grinned, his blue eyes dancing. “I have something I want to show you.”
Looking up at his big body, Victory felt a thrill of mingled fear and exhilaration as she considered what that thing might be. Clearing her throat, she slowly got to her feet. In her most formal voice, she said to the group of women standing behind her two captains, “My friends, as your new Adjudicator, do you swear to obey me in everything I ask?”
Still on their knees, they gave the formal reply in unison, “Until death, milady.”
Victory nodded and turned to her youngest captain. “Whip, as your new Adjudicator, and you as my captain, do you swear to obey me in everything I ask?”
Whip responded on cue, her head still lowered to the ground. “Until death, milady.” Her voice was low and soft, full of sincerity.
Victory nodded, then turned to Lion. “Lion, as your new Adjudicator, and you as my high captain, do you swear to obey me in everything that I ask?”
“Until death, milady,” was Lion’s firm and heartfelt response.
“Good,” Victory said. “Get out. All of you. Whip, go have some more fun with your Shi. Lion, go start drafting an order to halt all slave trade, starting tonight. All slaves on all vessels shall be returned to their homes. Any trad
er caught disobeying the edict will lose his ill-begotten property and join my father as an Imperial war-criminal to serve penance in native villages across Mercy.”
Lion narrowed her eyes, glancing at the Emp. “But milady, another Praetorian could—”
Victory smiled sweetly. “I told you to do it.”
Lion’s face darkened, but only for an instant. Then she stood up and saluted, fist to heart. “As you command, milady.” She bowed, deeply, then barked, “You heard the Adjudicator! Out!” As the others were quickly filing through the door, Lion gave Dragomir one last frown.
Dragomir grinned at her and waved politely.
Huffing, Lion slammed the door shut behind her, leaving Victory alone with her Emp.
“You know,” Dragomir said, scanning the room, “This place looks strangely familiar.” He gave her a mischievous look. “You up for a bath?”
Was she ever. Victory leapt off the bed and was halfway across the room when she hesitated. She looked up at Dragomir, saw the powerful muscles moving beneath his Praetorian armor, and felt a tingle of anxious anticipation.
“A good one, this time,” Dragomir promised. He pulled the black Praetorian helmet from his head and set it on the bed. He was grinning as he unbuckled the obsidian breastplate and pulled it from his chest. “One we’ll both enjoy.” He dropped it to the floor, leaving his torso bare.
Victory swallowed, eyes on his big hands, then nodded.
He removed the last of his armor, revealing his homespun peasant’s trousers underneath. Then, in a swift forward move, swept her into his arms. Victory gasped as she felt the floor drop away beneath her, and found herself clinging to his strong shoulders as he carried her to the tub.
“Um,” she whimpered, as he set her down and started to fill the bath. She had never actually been with a man willingly, before, and now that he was there, his catlike muscles flexing in his back as he bent to test the water, her rational mind was having second thoughts.