by Alma Boykin
The exhausted woman closed her eye for a moment, then straightened up and stood. “Thank you. Tell Great Lord Zhi-king that I will be there.”
“Yes, Lord Mammal,” and he bowed himself out. Rada ate without tasting anything, then took a sketchy wash and changed into clean clothes. Food helped her shake off some of her weariness, but not all of it, and she leaned heavily on the walking stick that she always kept in her quarters.
Exactly on time, the Lord Defender tapped on Zhi-king’s doorframe. “Enter, Lord Reh-dakh.” Rada walked in and bowed. The four lords sat around a low table, with tea and food. Lord Zhi-king gestured her in further. “Come, sit,” and she did, facing the quartet. “We will be brief, so that you may return to your rest, Lord Defender. We wish you to serve on the Regency Council until his Imperial Majesty reaches his majority,” he explained.
Rada closed her eye, putting her hands to her face for a moment and then let them drop. “Why, Great Lords?”
Lord Kirlin leaned forward, ticking points off on his talons. “First, because you are Lord Defender, and so outrank us if the planet should be attacked and defense is needed. Second, your avoidance of political involvement is legendary, thus making you a neutral party. Third, it gives an odd number to prevent deadlocks on decisions. Fourth, your feud notwithstanding, you have fewer enemies than we do. And fifth, because the Lady-queen and his Imperial Majesty trust you and asked that you serve.” He finished and the other three lords watched the Lord Defender, waiting for her response.
She closed her eye again, thoughts racing. “Very well, Great Lords. I will serve on the Regency Council until his majesty’s formal coronation.” Resignation colored her voice, making it clear that she had no desire to take on this additional burden. The four nobles exchanged glances and Lord Kirlin rose and came around to stand behind her.
“Thank you, Lord Reh-dakh, Lord Defender. And thank you and your men for your work today. The Empire is in your debt,” Great Lord Zhi-king said, inclining towards her. She bowed from her seated position, then tried to rise and failed as the room spun. Lord Kirlin, anticipating her weakness, caught her beneath one arm and helped her to her feet. She bowed again and with his assistance left the room.
They walked back through the darkened corridors of the palace, she leaning on her cane and his shoulder. “Great Lord, a question?”
“Certainly, Lord Reh-dakh,” he invited.
“Why is everyone calling me Reh-dakh?”
He chuckled and paused mid-step to tap a talon against the metalwork fan hanging from her belt. “Because it fits, Lord Defender. You carry your trophy openly and are functional, strong, and some think you are beautiful as a well-crafted blade is beautiful. Thus ‘iron-fan.’ Do you refuse the name?” Kirlin asked, steps slowing as they reached the door to her quarters.
She shook her head. “No, Great Lord. As you say, it fits, and will confuse the Empire’s enemies. I accept the name and I thank you for your gracious assistance,” Reh-dakh said, bowing to her superior.
He made a negation and bowed low, extending his neck. “No Lord Defender, it is I who owe homage. You saved my life and my House is in your debt,” he said. He turned before she could reply, leaving her standing in the corridor. The weary mammal watched him go, then entered her still-stuffy chambers, bolting the door behind her.
Regency Period
A.D. 4034
All Commander Rada Lord Ni Drako, also called Lord Reh-dakh, wanted to do was retreat to the private chamber of her suite and sleep for a few years, or flee to Singing Pines. But she had to finish the day’s work first, and the weary mammal rubbed under her eye, sighed, stretched, and returned to reading government documents. Thank you Lord that only eighteen moons remain she prayed. Serving on the Regency Council with four of the Great Lords seemed like an incredible honor—to those who didn’t have to do it. Or perhaps it would be for an Azdhag noble who was not also a total outsider. Instead, Rada cursed both herself for having accepted the position and the clerks who produced all the documents that she had to be familiar with! The Azdhag Empire and DeShan’s System (a protectorate) generated as much paperwork as one would expect them to, and she hated every single screen of it.
She reached the bottom of the pile, saved her notes one last time and closed everything out for the night. Rada heaved herself to her feet and began walking to her quarters. She had been offered much fancier rooms near the Imperial family quarters, but had gracefully declined “the overwhelming and generous gift.” She didn’t need the space and much preferred her plain and familiar two-room suite, especially her mammal-adapted lavatory. Rada pushed open the carved wooden and brass door and jumped backwards as a blaster bolt snapped out of the well-lit room.
“Bloody hell!” Another assassination attempt, this one an ambush in her own quarters! The Wanderer-hybrid snarled, twisting her stick in her hands to release the sword blade while staying behind the cover of the corridor wall. Then she reached into a deep pocket in her full skirt and pulled out a small, egg-shaped surprise. Rada pushed her thumb into the casing, counted to three, and then tossed it as hard as she could into the room, then drew her blast pistol. A low-frequency “boomp” ruffled her fur and made her bones ache. She spun into the room, guard up, blade and pistol at the ready. A quick sweep of the chamber revealed three attackers lying flat on their backs in her public reception and work area, caught by the stun grenade. The fourth, lurking behind the wall in her personal quarters came at her, rifle at the ready. Rada dodged. He missed. She didn’t.
Rada disarmed the three survivors, keeping their weapons for herself. Then she wrote a note to Lord Blee, pinned it to one of the reptiles’ robes and called for servants to remove them. The deceased would have to be identified and disposed of. As a burly palace staff member dragged the remains out the door, she grumbled, Damn it, this is more paperwork! On the other forefoot, thanks be for stupid enemies and good luck. This is what? She tried to remember, only the third attempt in four year-turns? That sounds right. And no one else has been hurt, unlike when that fur-covered fool attacked Zabet and the little female. What was her name? Oh yes, Brska.
Once the servants had hauled her groggy assailants away, Rada put out the lights and sat down on the edge of the sleeping platform in her sleeping quarters. She could relax—even Blee wouldn’t try to attack her here. She changed into sleeping clothes, brushed out her long hair, made certain that her weapons remained within easy reach, and drifted off for three or four hours of much needed rest.
Later that moon Great Lord Kirlin caught her eye as they waited for the other Great Lords, the King-Emperor and his dam to arrive at an imperial council meeting. Kirlin nudged her with his tail tip. “Rumor has it that you had a welcoming committee a few sixts ago.”
She smiled down at the brown and green spotted Azdhag. “Yes, Great Lord, and I freely admit that I cheated and leveled the odds early. I was tired.” She would never, ever admit it aloud, but even after the centuries she’d lived on Drakon IV, Rada still enjoyed looming above even the largest Azdhag. Once one of the quadrupedal reptiles rose onto their hind legs, most of the nobles and soldiers towered over her, but the rest of the time their heads were level with her waist or chest. It was a nice change.
Lord Kirlin’s neck spines flared a bit and a laugh escaped his broad muzzle. “The connoisseurs will be offended, but the rest of us have probably done something the like. Not that anyone would confess to it, of course,” he added.
“Of course not, my lord,” she agreed. I will never, ever understand feuding as an art form, she groused for the umpteenth time. One acquired social points with witty attacks and clever defenses, both of which were still intended to be lethal. House Ni Drako proved a great disappointment in this area, because she’d never attacked House Blee, even though she had called the damn feud in the first place! Another moment of weakness, or a learning opportunity, as Himself would phrase it. The other Council members came in and the Lord Defender bowed low, then knelt with the rest of the Cou
ncil when the King-Emperor Lo-dan entered. His muddy-green eyes showed his relief at her presence and she wondered what Lord Zhi-king had been pushing him to do this time.
The meeting went as they usually did. They had all read the Ministerial reports, and reviewed them together, deciding what needed to be addressed, what could wait, and making basic policy decisions. Lord Reh-dakh reserved “his” contributions to matters related to military affairs, although “he” did comment on trade and diplomacy on occasion. This time, a rather tricky matter of domestic politics demanded most of the session to sort out. A mid-ranking noble House threatened to die out because the last heir had succumbed to his hereditary medical problems, leaving a sister but no other males, not even cousins. That left the option of crown reclamation of the estate in question, a lineage shifting marriage, or a fight over the land. Is this the time to gently inquire about female inheritance? Rada wondered. She decided no; it would be better to keep working from below, as she had for the past century.
Lord Zhi-king had been pushing the King-Emperor to advance a royal claim to the lands, so that they could be reassigned after the demise of the current lord. However, Great Lord Ro-diit had a son of age to make a House alliance, and apparently had been eyeing the property, which while small remained well run and productive. Gossip suggested that Ro-diit’s son had the personality and charm of a talkak, the repulsively ugly but quite edible foraging reptile native to the northern woodlands, which explained why Ro-diit wanted to arrange a propertied marriage by decree. By law the female heir to a House lineage could refuse any suitor who threatened the House’s stability, unless the crown or her sire intervened. The two Great Lords politely cut eachother to shreds as the rest of the Council ground its collective teeth and Reh-dakh groaned to herself, This is why I didn’t want to be part of this government!
At last Lord Kirlin spoke up. “Perhaps I am mis-remembering, but hasn’t House Shu been petitioning for different lands?” Forefeet talons tapped on computers as the five nobles and the King Emperor pulled up the information. Kirlin swirled his forefoot. “What if Shu were given the land upon the extinction of the current House, the crown claims Shu’s old estates upon the transfer, and the daughter be assigned with the new lands, contingent upon the Houses’ acceptance, of course?” The compromise pleased no one, aside from House Shu perhaps, which meant it was about as good as could be done. Reh-dakh voted for Kirlin’s plan, which passed four to one over Ro-diit.
The meeting was winding down when a military orderly tapped on the door and handed Rada a message pad from the officer on watch in the Defense Coordination Center. She skimmed it and frowned, then quickly wrote a reply and orders. An expectant silence filled the room when she finished, but she waited until the orderly’s tail vanished out of sight and the door closed before logging into the defense coordination system and calling up information for the other councilors. “My lords, the Minister of War says that probes have been reported within the system. He’s located and destroyed four thus far, but assumes at least one will have gotten past his forces. The listening post on Shinbora failed to respond last hour, and scouts are en-route. I ordered the D.C.C. to prepare for at least one hostile probe, with follow-up.” Rada’s mind raced through possible suspects, defense plans, and lists of units to be activated, in what order, should something get through the Imperial Forces’ screens. The other regents exchanged glances, but accepted her analysis and actions.
With that, the meeting broke up, but the King-Emperor waved a talon at the scarred brunette. “Come with me, Lord Defender,” he ordered, turning to leave.
“Yes, Imperial Majesty, “ she replied, grabbing up her materials and following a few paces behind him.
Once the King-Emperor and Lord Defender were out of hearing range, Lords Kirlin and Zhi-king sighed. “Reh-dakh’s going to have his forefeet full,” Zhi-king observed.
“What’s that?” Lord Ro-diit demanded, still irked about the estate vote.
“His Imperial Majesty feels that he is skilled enough at the martial arts to serve in the Defense Troops and he has determined to persuade the Lord Defender of that,” Zhi-king explained, as the others snorted or made forefoot and tail negations.
“Is his Majesty that good?”
Kirlin chuckled, “Yes, but the Lord Defender absolutely will not allow him to endanger himself. So Reh-dakh must persuade the King-Emperor that his Majesty is not yet ready for action. And do it tactfully. I remember what I was like at that age, and I hope Reh-dakh comes out without any more scars.” The other lords chuckled or frowned, depending on their opinion of the Lord Defender.
For once, the Great Lords had misread the King-Emperor’s desires. Rada followed her liege into the private Imperial family chambers, growing more uncomfortable with each step. Finally the young King-Emperor stopped in one of the “informal” reception rooms and turned to his Lord Defender. Rada started to drop to her knee. “I’d rather you sat, not knelt, Lord Defender,” Lo-dan said, and pointed to some cushions next to a low table. “There.” The mammal did as ordered, now very concerned with the propriety of the situation. Lo-dan settled himself on the other side of the table and regarded his advisor soberly. “If we go to war, will you move into proper quarters here in the Imperial chambers?”
Rada managed to hide her surprise and replied, “Might I ask why, Imperial Majesty?”
He snorted. “Because Drakon IV can’t afford to have the Lord Defender killed in another feud-ambush in the middle of a war. Lord Blee is taking your refusal to attack as a sign of weakness and is planning another attempt on your life. I’m not having that, not if you are needed in command,” he explained.
Put that way, she felt better about the arrangement. “Imperial Majesty, I will relocate if anything gets through Lord Ganday’s forces.”
“Good. You will be shielded and easier to find should the need arise,” the young Azdhag nodded. His muddy-green eyes grew thoughtful, and he regarded her closely. “Lord Reh-dakh, you may refuse my request if you choose, but would you remove your eye cover?”
Shrugging, she did as asked. He studied the ruin of her right eye. “Did my sire do that?” he asked quietly.
“No, Imperial Majesty. It was done several years before, on a world far from here.” She fingered the ridge under the eye, feeling the scars and the bone-ceramisteel matrix beneath the skin and muscle.
He looked away, as if embarrassed. “Thank you, Lord Defender. I had feared that he was to blame for your blindness.”
Sensing a teachable moment, Rada shook her head. “No, and I am to blame for the scar. Your sire was correct in punishing me for disobeying a direct order and completely within his rights.” She replaced the patch as Lo-dan stared at her, muzzle agape, as if surprised by her words. Rada frowned inside. Who’s been teaching you about Pack discipline, anyway? Or did you ignore the lesson? Because I thought Kirlin had already covered that.
“Do you know the full story of what happened that day, Imperial Majesty?”
Lo-dan shook his head, sitting back on the cushions as servants brought him tea and a light meal. “Not really. Please tell me, because I don’t understand why you can say doing that to you was proper.”
“Not slicing my face open, Imperial Majesty, but some form of punishment.” Rada spun the tale of the Zhangki River’s flood and the subsequent events, stopping after she slapped King-Emperor Lan-zhe across the muzzle with his own iron war fan.
Lo-dan appeared in turns fascinated and appalled. Finally he swallowed the last of his meal and tapped the table with a claw, tail swishing in his confusion. “I still don’t see how you could accept the punishment so calmly, Lord Reh-dakh,” he declared.
“Because I knew there would be a price to pay for disobeying a direct order. The head of the Pack must enforce Pack discipline.” That got all of Lo-dan’s attention, and his eyes widened. She waited in silence, letting him think about what she had said.
His tail tapped the inlaid stone floor and cushions behind him, and Lo-d
an’s neck spines flared out. “I couldn’t do that,” he hissed.
She leaned forward, meeting his eyes. “A time may come when you must, Imperial Majesty. And not just Pack discipline, but to ensure Pack survival as well. Think of the Lord Defender as being a sword in your hand. You strike with the blade to defend yourself, knowing that you risk nicking or breaking the weapon, do you not?”
“Yesss,” he agreed, reluctantly. “I’ve just never thought about war like that. And a sword doesn’t know that it might be chipped or shattered.” He looked uncomfortable, tail-tip twitching, neck spines vibrating a little.
“Depending on the tales you read, some blades might,” she chuckled, easing the tension. “But that is a good point, yes.”
After another silence, the young reptile nodded. “You are dismissed, Lord Defender.”
She rose, bowed low, and left him thinking about what they had discussed.
Two weeks later, the Lord Defender relocated into rooms adjacent to the Imperial suite. Keldaki scouts and light cutters had managed to work their way into Drakon IV’s solar system after overwhelming the outpost on Shibora and tying down a considerable part of the Imperial Forces with attacks in DeShan’s System. Lords Reh-dakh and Ganday planned a collapsing defense and trap, as she explained to the Council, of which she was now head as Ruling Regent. “Because Drakon IV has such a low population compared to the other worlds, it will seem easy enough to the Keldaks to conquer.” Everyone in the room bared their fangs, the Lord Defender included. “Exactly. Lord Ganday has planted information that this area here,” she highlighted a space near the planet’s southern pole, “has critical but poorly defended facilities. After all, everyone knows that the Azdhagi have become careless in their glory. What the Keldaks will find is a different matter entirely. I don’t want to go into details, but if they take the bait they will walk into a killing field.”