by Alma Boykin
She wondered what Lan-zhe intended to do to her. Probably scream, beat her up, order her confined to quarters for a sixt or two, and snub her at court. Rada snorted with disdain, I’ve been turned inside out by better reptiles than you, Lan-zhe. Shi-dan broke ribs and he was pulling his blows. Rada rubbed under her blind eye as she considered the current King-Emperor of the Azdhag Empire. She’d never met him in person. He had not wanted her present at his coronation so she renewed her oath before the Planetary Council prior to leaving court to go oversee maneuvers and training. Then his Minister of War had sent her on a data-gathering trip. After that, she’d gone on leave for six year-turns. She’d been back for almost a year-turn and still he’d avoided her. Well, they’d meet on the morrow. With that Rada decided to go to bed.
His Imperial Majesty descended on Singing Pines manor well after noon. Rada and P’nang both gulped at the size of the retinue accompanying Lan-zhe, for very different reasons. P’nang had no idea how to feed so many courtiers and soldiers. Rada had never encountered a King-Emperor who tolerated fawning, let alone encouraged the behavior, as Lan-zhe seemed to do. Rada stood at parade-rest beside P’nang as the other manor staff and Headman Libo spread out behind them. A light breeze kept the sun bearable while they waited, watching the show unfolding before the manor gates. Because that’s what it was: a theater scene starring the great Lan-zheh.
The King-Emperor descended from his transport, the sunlight glinting off the gems and metallic threads decorating his robes. Several courtiers, three of the Great Lords, and a dozen soldiers followed him, while two servants carried the long tail of his robe to keep it out of the dirt and grass. By the Bookkeeper’s tally, the courtesans wear less glitter. A male dressed like that? Good grief, what a fop. The show impressed Rada but not in the way Lan-zhe wanted. Rada dropped to one knee; her head bowed level with her other knee as the other Azdhagi went into the full head on the ground obeisance due to the King of Drakon IV, Emperor of the Azdhagi, Protector of De Shan’s system. Three servants unrolled a heavy carpet and the King-Emperor stepped onto it. Lan-zhe glittered as he stalked towards Ni Drako. He halted and two courtiers arranged a portable bench for his repose. Lan-zhe sat. Only after the servants arranged the end of his robe just so did he snarl, “You may rise and kneel.”
As the others sat up on their hind legs, Rada rose to her feet, returning to parade rest. Monarch and vassal studied eachother and Rada’s opinion of her overlord declined even farther as a whiff of perfume reached her nose. Lan-zhe’s narrow dark green eyes and unattractive greenish-tan hide both seemed oily and Rada wondered if he used scented lotion. He retained the steel spine tips as befitted the warrior king he should be, but embroidered gloves and his expensive robe revealed his true interests. Rada lowered her shields enough to sense his disgust with the mammal standing before him.
“Daimyo Ni Drako, explain your actions to Us, that we may judge them.”
“Imperial Majesty, I adjudged that preserving the lives of your subjects was more important than reporting in person what I had observed.” Rustles of displeasure from the courtiers mimicked the King-Emperor’s own bristling neck spines and twitching tail.
“We gave you a direct order, furbearer. You jeopardized delicate negotiations with your rash act and gravely insulted Our authority. Have you anything to say for yourself that might cause Us to consider mercy in your case?”
Rada’s ears went flat. “Imperial Majesty, I stand by my actions.”
Lan-zhe’s eyes bulged a little and he gestured to three of his guards. The big males walked around behind Ni Drako, separating her from the other manor staff. The King-Emperor rose onto his hind legs and stalked to the end of the carpet. “Bring the mammal here.” Rada walked forward, stopping just short of Lan-zhe as the guards caught up with her. Easily half a meter taller than Rada, the furious monarch loomed over her, neck spines vibrating with anger. He held one forefoot out to the side and a courtier whisked off the embroidered glove to reveal steel-tipped talons. Lan-zhe gestured and two of the Palace Guards behind Rada grabbed her, one holding her head while the other pinned her arms. Lan-zhe bared his fangs in a smile, took another step forward and raised his forefoot, one talon extended.
The talon stabbed into her face and Rada locked her jaws to keep from screaming as Lan-zhe cut downward. Fire traced from her forehead, over and through her blind eye, down the cheek and to her jawbone. Blood poured into Rada’s mouth, forcing her to swallow or choke. She felt hot wet running down her face, onto her neck and shoulder, and she fought with all her strength to remain silent, to show no emotion. Lan-zhe smiled even more, studied his bloody talon, and licked it clean. Even through her shields his obscene pleasure made Rada’s gut churn and she fought off flashbacks.
The forefeet holding Rada released their grip and she staggered. She swallowed again, lightheaded with pain and nausea, but stayed on her feet. Her anger began rising, driving thought from her mind.
“That is for disobedience, furbearer,” the King-Emperor told her. A courtier replaced Lan-zhe’s glove and handed him a folded war fan. “This is for disrespect and forgetting your loyalty and your place, mammal.” He swung back, then forwards, aiming for Rada’s face.
Rada’s arm shot up, blocking the blow. Lan-zhe stared, shocked, and Rada snatched the black metal fan out of his loosened grip before backing a pace. Cold fury filled her voice. “You forget, your Majesty. My oaths are to Drakon IV and the Empire, not to the Emperor’s person or his Court. You also forget that I touch ground only for my god, as is recorded in the Imperial protocols for all to see.” Rada retreated another pace, holding up the closed fan. “You neglect your duty who put trade wealth for his House before the lives of his people!” Absolute silence descended on the Azdhagi and no one dared to move so much as a tail tip.
Lan-zhe dropped back onto all four feet, infuriated by Rada’s defiance. On mad impulse Rada opened the metal fan and darted forward, slapping him across the muzzle as hard as she could. Rada folded the fan and bowed. Lan-zhe reared up on his hind feet again and Rada retreated four paces as he bellowed, “How dare you! Guards, seize it!” Great Lords Kirlin and Zhi-king exchanged glances. No one else moved. The afternoon breeze stirred several reptiles’ robes but the courtiers and guards remained frozen. Rada bowed, backed another four steps, spun on her heel and stalked away between the astonished witnesses.
Her heart pounded as she waited for Lan-zhe to order his guards to kill her. Instead she heard only birdsong and her own footsteps. Rada continued walking steadily and calmly, not breaking her stride until she had passed into the gates of Singing Pines. Then, once hidden by the stone walls, she collapsed, shaking. She started crawling to her quarters on all fours but the stone pavers swirled under her and she passed out.
When she awoke, she found herself laying on her stomach on her sleeping platform; her head swathed in bandages and held between someone’s forefeet. “Please, Lord Mammal, do not try to move until I finish checking you,” the Healer ordered. “You almost choked to death on blood.” Still queasy, Rada gestured her assent. With the healer’s assistance she sat up. A second female held a bowl and spoon, which she carefully slipped between Rada’s cracked lips as the senior healer loosened the bandages. “The bowl has water, catmint, and an antibiotic, one from your supplies,” Healer Keess said. “Drink it but do not suck.” Rada couldn’t argue with her jaw mostly bound shut, so she drank as the reptile slowly spooned water into her mouth. Swallowing made her face hurt and tears came to her eye before she finished. She lay down again, on her side this time. “Now go back to sleep,” and the Healer overpowered Rada’s defenses, sending her lord back into oblivion.
A sixt passed before the Healer allowed Rada to see herself. After Rada dismissed Keess the mammal cried, mourning. She’d never been vain about her appearance since she’d never been more than average by Trader and HalfDragon standards, but now she looked like a nightmare.
Zabet dar Nagali, Rada’s business partner, boss, and “concubine
,” arrived the next day. The silvery-blue True-dragon flinched, confirming the mammal’s fears. <
Rada gave her the story, going back to the earthquake. Afterwards Rada opened the war fan, really studying it for the first time. Only a master craftsman could have made the beautiful interlocking black iron panels, each pierced and cut into delicate patterns of foliage and waves with touches of silvery metal highlighting the design. Rada fanned herself with the weapon, careful to avoid the sharpened edges. Zabet held out a forefoot and Rada let her examine the fan. Zabet handed it back, her sapphire eyes thoughtful as she asked mind-to-mind, <
Rada looked around, making absolutely certain that no servants lurked near the door to her quarters before answering aloud, “Because he doesn’t have the stones. That and because he overstepped the bounds.”
Zabet tipped her head so far to the side that she was almost upside down. <
“Not correct, Boss. I took the punishment I had coming to me and that should have been the end of it. Instead he lost his temper and self-control, and insulted me in front of Court.” Rada pointed the folded fan at the inverted True-dragon. “I could have honor-challenged him for calling me ‘furbearer’ and he knew it. And the Great Lords knew it too. Instead I spatted him on the muzzle, kept my temper, and followed all appropriate protocols.” Rada tried to smile and hissed as the scar pulled and stung. “I won the round.”
<
Rada sighed, got to her feet and hung the fan on her weapons belt. “I fear that you are correct, oh silver dancer. And I fear I now have to learn how to fight with this,” she tapped the fan with a claw.
Washed Up
Spring, A.D. 4029
“Your pardon, Lord Mammal, but I believe that these are the records you inquired about,” the royal archivist said, laying three thick volumes on the table. “And here is the dictionary you requested, my lord.” The two meter long reptile backed a little, giving the noble room.
“Thank you, Master Archivist. These are exactly what I need for my research. Again, you work miracles!” Rada smiled and the Azdhag bowed, obviously pleased and relieved.
“Then I will leave you to your hunting, Lord Mammal,” and he bustled back to his usual tasks.
The brown-haired felinoid gently puffed dust off the ancient documents and carefully opened the first tome. Rada started to work, studying the centuries-old records of land grants and feudal oaths. It was not easy and she had a headache before more than a few hours passed. She had difficulty reading the court’s elaborate modern form of Azdhag, let alone more complicated and archaic versions used in legal and semi-religious documents. To make matters more challenging, the name of one of the holdings she was especially interested in had changed over time and she was not entirely certain at first that she had found the correct location. I’m a warrior, not a scholar, she sighed.
However, the second volume contained what she needed and she copied the three grants out by hand, and then translated them into the more modern form of Azdhag with the help of the dictionary/gloss. She didn’t take time to think about the implications of what she’d found. The royal archive would be closing soon and she wanted to get back to “her” lands that day, before the next winter storm arrived. The noble finished her work, rolled the pages and tucked them into her satchel, and rose to go. The royal archivist appeared at her elbow before she’d risen even halfway off of the bench, bowing low. “Do you need us to stay late, Lord Mammal?”
She swirled her right hand in a negation, answering, “No, Master Archivist. I found what I needed, thanks to your excellent work.” The reptile relaxed a fraction and she wondered what kinds of things he had to put up with from some of the other court nobility.
That line of thought stayed with her as she flew back to Singing Pines. Even winter’s snows couldn’t mask the damage done by the Zhangki River’s rampage three moons before and she shook her head. The next year could be very rough if people have not taken care of matters. And she seriously doubted that many of the court nobles with lands along the lower stretches of the river had made the necessary preparations. Granted, they’d not lost their harvests in the fields, but some granaries had flooded, as had villages, mills and other things near the river. And the King-Emperor’s insistence on taking the royal share remained unchanged, as did the expenses of living at court for those so inclined. At the moment, the Lord Defender was not so inclined. She watched the conifers and rugged terrain passing under her wings, noting the remains of Blue Hills village. Rada saw no signs of life and she muttered a curse under her breath before turning her attention to landing at the strip near the Singing Pines manor house.
Two of her guards pushed a ladder up to Night’s Claw’s fuselage and the Lord-Defender scrambled down from the cockpit. For once her leg behaved itself and she jumped the last three rungs, landing with a puff in the fresh snow. After finishing her post-flight inspection, Rada walked to the grey stone bulk of the old manor, guards lumbering behind. She glanced around, then slowed, gesturing the corporal to come forward to her. “My lord?” he inquired.
“Have there been any more probes, Corporal?”
The lean Azdhag looked up at her. “No, Lord Mammal; at least none that we have caught or found trace of. Steward P’nang and Sergeant Zarr have been keeping watch, per your orders, Lord Mammal,” he assured her.
She smiled, “Good. Thank you, Corporal. You are dismissed; go get something hot inside you. It’s going to be bitter the next few days, it feels like.”
The Lord Defender had a good supper and a soak in the natural hot spring incorporated into the manor’s cellars before retreating to her office with the documents she’d copied. There she shook out her waist-length brown-black hair and read the pages through again. Rada got up, stretched, and started pacing with frustration.
She had found the original grants of the Blue Hills, Singing Pines, and Burnt Mountain estates, once a single enormous royal estate called Mountains’ Edge. They had been divided and given by one of the post-Relocation kings of Drakon IV to three separate nobles. Two had been reclaimed by the Crown through termination of the noble line or seizure following treason two centuries after the Great Relocation—those she nominally managed for the Crown. Blue Hills had been reassigned through a series of treaties and marriages to House Blee, the current holders, three hundred year-turns ago, a little before she arrived on the scene.
The current Lord Blee insisted on upholding all the rights granted by the original charters, but without taking up the duties as well, something that frustrated Rada to no end. He enjoyed the best of both worlds—power of life, death, and possession over his peasants as in the old times, but with the luxuries and absentee management of modern practice. “Damnit!” she growled. And she could do nothing, absolutely nothing about how he was abusing his people, aside from trying to succor the refugees who had escaped to Singing Pines or Burnt Mountain. It required both the King-Emperor and a quorum of the nobility to intervene, and given Lan-zhe’s approach to reigning and ruling, both Azdhagi ice-hells would thaw out before that happened. Lord Blee had the law on his side even if, in her opinion, right, and justice supported his people. That’s what the documents said, going back to the founding of the estates. She massaged around the almost healed scar running down the right side of her face and wondered what to do.
If the winter had been trying, spring brought far worse for House Ni Drako, its dependents, and the refugees who had taken shelter under its Aegis. Commander Ni Drako stood on the battlement of Singing Pines manor house, Steward P’nang at her side, and watched the first of the work parties forming. She held a rolled up message transcript in her hand and tapped it against the cold stones of the wall. After several minutes observing the w
ork in progress, she turned to her steward. “How much longer can we feed everyone?”
The grey-robed Azdhag frowned, “Three weeks, Lord Mammal, four at most, if some are willing to accept cut rations.”
She shook her head, “No. No one goes hungry here if we can prevent it. Have you tapped the daimyo’s Tenth yet?”
“No, Lord Mammal.” He paused, thinking. “Of the harvest or of the hunt?”
Rada idly rubbed the scar on her face. “Both. I know it’s late for the hunt, but I can thin out some of the talkak boars without causing problems, if memory serves. How much time will that buy us?”
Steward P’nang calculated, and bared his fangs a touch. “That puts us up to six weeks, at which point we can start using more wild and garden plants, the first of the poultry will be ready for eating, and fishing season will have begun. And—,” he stopped, expression turning wary.
“Yes?”
“Ah, Lord Mammal, if those claimed by House Blee return to their lord, it will extend our supplies to mid-summer, daimyo’s Tenth excluded.” P’nang gathered himself to flee in case the mammal exploded again, as “he” had that morning when Lord Blee’s demand had arrived. Rada’s fists clenched, crumpling the papers in her hand, but her face and voice remained calm and serene, as befitted both a Wanderer and an Azdhag noble.
“They will return only if Lord Blee and His Imperial Majesty compel me to make them return, or they themselves choose to do so. Otherwise they are free to remain, and we’d better think about expanding the fields as much as possible, and perhaps seeing if any wish to settle at Burnt Mountain.” P’nang heard the steel behind the quiet words and thanked his gods that he never felt the noble’s anger.
“And you heard none of that remark, Royal Steward, nor do you approve of my actions, should you be asked. What has been done since the flood has been my responsibility and my fault. Is that clear?”