“Thank you for sending the uniforms ahead,” she told V’ritan. “My people have made sure they are ready.”
She glanced at the arrangements of pipes and tubes that served as a Dreth timepiece. “If you are dressed in the next five minutes, we can still make the formal procession they have planned.”
“I was not told of that,” the Meligornian sputtered, and she bared her teeth.
“House Endrageth and House Hachtech made the arrangements.”
Stephanie recalled the chart they had been shown on their first evening on the Meligornian ship. Endrageth and Hachtech sat very close to the top of the power tree.
“I take it they’re not fans.”
“If you mean they do not support you, then you are correct. They were most vociferous in their opposition to allowing you to lead the Dreth to battle and were also against the award of the Talons. They will take much convincing. Now, go.”
She went and was dressed and waiting in the atrium of the accommodations with enough time to have Vishlog’s help to coax the cats into their harness. To her surprise and delight, Brilgus assisted also.
His pleasure at seeing the felines lifted her spirits, and his adoration of them was returned a hundredfold. “I should ask your assistance in finding one of these for myself,” he told her and V’ritan looked alarmed.
“Hearing you talk about these two is enough,” he said. “I would hate to see what you would be like if you had your own.”
He grinned. “The King’s Warrior needs a pet, too,” he confided. “Secretly, I think he uses Elza as an excuse. No one can dislike pets that much.”
“Bring one home and see for yourself,” the Meligornian challenged and they laughed.
It was obviously an old argument between them. Stephanie smiled to see them both so relaxed despite their armor and their stern-faced armored escorts. She hadn’t known Brilgus now had his own team as part of being the King’s Standard Bearer.
“They’re supposed to keep him out of trouble,” V’ritan explained. He glanced at the stone-faced guards and lowered his voice. “Personally, I think he’s gotten them into more trouble in the last six weeks than any of them have been in their entire lives.”
Brilgus smirked. “I cannot say I didn’t have a good teacher.”
She snuck another glance at their escorts and caught the slight twitch of lips as they fought the urge to smile. Their gazes watched their two charges and scanned the area around them, though, and each of them glanced at the team as though assessing what kind of danger they presented.
Lars stepped in and introduced himself to each of the leaders and she relaxed. By the time Ambassador Jaleck told them the cars were late and they’d have to jog to the Council, the three sets of guards had come to an agreement.
They moved as one and arrived at the Council building in time to take their place at the end of the procession. She was grateful for their training, too. None of them were breathing hard and they fell into step looking as martial as the Dreth who went before them.
The expressions on the faces of those overseeing the parade were priceless, and she realized that they hadn’t expected to see her or her contingent present.
“I thought you said the transport company were allies of House Karnach.”
“They are,” Jaleck replied. “If they were not, we would not have been warned in time to reach the Council on foot.”
“We had to run,” V’ritan protested, even though he wasn’t breathing hard.
“Exactly,” the ambassador told him, “and now, you have another ally.”
“It was a test?”
“Of course. That is the way of Dreth. You have proven your worth.”
They slammed their hands over their hearts as they marched past the Council representatives and had the salute returned.
“A mere formality,” Jaleck explained. “They have to show respect to a procession, no matter how much they disrespect those in it. To disrespect one is to disrespect all.”
“That makes no sense,” Stephanie protested.
“It makes sense to a Dreth,” Vishlog told her and she sighed.
“There is so much of your culture that is not known.”
“We do not share if we can avoid it,” he told her and smiled.
“You said ‘we.’”
“Perhaps I feel some kinship to my people, after all.”
“I recognize some very distinctive traits,” she snarked, and his smile broadened into a grin.
They were seated close to the center of the great dining hall, and his grin disappeared abruptly. Jaleck also looked displeased.
“What’s wrong?” Stephanie asked. “Isn’t this the safest part of the hall?”
“That is what is wrong,” the ambassador explained. “To place us here implies we are not as powerful as the clans that surround us. The strongest clan is placed closest to the entrance. The next strongest close to the rear. The third strongest near the windows, and the fourth near the kitchens.”
“All of which are places from which an attack could come,” Vishlog told her. “The next ring of tables follows the sequence of power. To place us here implies we cannot take care of ourselves and are more of a burden than the weakest clan present.”
“It is a grave disrespect,” Jaleck finished. “My house will not be pleased.”
“I am sorry,” Stephanie told her. “I did not mean to cause you to lose standing.”
She flashed her a nasty grin. “Simply defeat them at the Fortress tomorrow and any disrespect gained tonight will vanish like prey into Tegortha’s maw.”
Stephanie made a note to see who Tegortha might be but gave Jaleck a firm nod. “To restore your respect, I will make it so.”
A deep laugh greeted that statement and she turned in her seat. She rose to greet the Dreth lord with a traditional greeting but he turned on his heel and left before she had completed it.
“That was rude,” she murmured and he stopped two strides from his table.
“Uh oh,” Lars commented, and the team rose from their table. V’ritan’s and Brilgus’s security details rose as well.
“Little girl, you do not know what rude is,” the Dreth lord retorted, and those around them gave a low call of mockery to egg him on.
Like that, is it? Her expression calm, she set her hand on her hip. She’d dealt with enough bullies at school to know she wouldn’t back down.
“Oh, I don’t know,” she replied and studied him slowly as if he were something she wouldn’t want to step in. “I might not know what rude is, but I do know an expert on the matter when I see one.”
That answer was rewarded by several gasps and a number of low chuckles from the crowd. Both sounds faded as a number of Dreth rose from their tables.
Lars sighed and Frog grinned. Marcus cracked his knuckles and several of the Meligornian escort gave hard, tight smiles and flexed their hands.
What might have happened next, she wasn’t sure, but it looked like the makings of a good brawl when V’ritan’s voice rang out.
“I do not understand,” he said, “why House Endrageth would display such poor hospitality to one it has insisted come to its planet as a guest.”
All heads turned to observe the Dreth Lord. His skin darkened and he scowled. “I would have preferred her not invited.”
“And yet your family was one of those she fought to protect on the Meligorn Dreamer.”
“They were not there with my permission.”
“That does not abrogate the debt.”
“That debt was abrogated when I agreed to the test.”
“I can understand why you might disrespect a mere human, even one as powerful as this, but your own family?”
One of the closest Dreth rose and glanced at the Lord of Endrageth.
“I appreciate your concern, Ambassador, but...”
Stephanie’s voice snapped sharply. “Do not disrespect the Ghargilum Afreghil.” She turned and placed her fist over her heart and deliberately blended
the Dreth sign of respect with a deep royal bow.
V’ritan acknowledged it with a blend of his own to acknowledge her Dreth citizenship and her Meligornian position. The House Endrageth representatives exchanged looks and smirked.
Both returned to their seats, signaling an end to hostilities, but neither acknowledged the King’s Warrior or the Witch. Several Dreth family representatives briefly laid a fist over their hearts and nodded their heads to both Stephanie and V’ritan.
Vishlog leaned over as she sat. “Well played,” he said, “although I am afraid you have offended House Endrageth and upset Hachtech more so than before. They are not impressed.”
“Well, that makes two of us,” she murmured tartly in response while the other tables were served.
When their meals finally arrived, their portions were neither as large nor as well presented as those around them.
“Hachtech governs the kitchens,” Jaleck explained and covertly passed a small device down the table.
Stephanie watched it being used and operated it the same way. When she passed it to Vishlog, he gave an evil chuckle, pulled the device into the open, and made a show of checking his own plate before he stood and circled the table to check the food on everyone else’s plate.
When the device chirped over Frog’s, he lifted it and carried it with great solemnity to Lord Endrageth. “I mean no disrespect,” he began and interrupted the lord as he ate, “but I believe it is the host’s responsibility to ensure the safety of his guests.”
He held the device cradled in his palm so Endrageth could read it.
“The device reads incorrectly,” the lord declared and Vishlog raised his eyebrows.
“My lord,” he said, “the device has proven true for many meals. Perhaps your mouth should follow where your tongue is leading it.”
With that, he whisked the lord’s plate away and replaced it with Frog’s meal. He turned and carried the plate to the guard. “This is safe,” he assured his teammate. “Please, eat.”
He completed his circuit of the table, resumed his seat, and calmly applied himself to his meal. Lord Endrageth’s newly acquired meal remained untouched and was returned to the kitchen when the dishes were cleared.
The rest of the team followed his example and Jaleck did the same, not bothering to hide her smirk. The detector did not react to any other course, and the remainder of the meal passed uneventfully.
“I am afraid you have made no friends there,” the ambassador murmured on the way out.
“But I kept Stephanie safe,” Vishlog told her. “That is my honor now.”
“You kept us all safe,” she told him, “and House Karnach is grateful...again.”
He gave her a look of surprise but before he could respond, he was bumped by another Dreth, also on his way out. The representative gave him a look that said he expected Vishlog to take offense, but the warrior merely studied him for a moment.
“I’ll answer you on the field, not here where the children play,” he declared and continued to the stairs.
“You lack honor and respect,” the Dreth lord declared and Vishlog smiled.
“At least I do not lack wisdom.”
They had reached the sidewalk when another lord hurried out of the Council hall. “Ambassador Karnach, Ghargilum Afreghil, you are required.”
“I’ve got this,” V’ritan murmured and raised his voice in response. “I’m sorry, but the Witch of the Federation is my guest tonight and I would be a poor host to abandon any of my guests on their first night on-world. Please convey our apologies to the Council. We will see them in the morning.”
The messenger raced back into the building. Stephanie had reached the bottom of the stairs with V’ritan and Jaleck when they re-emerged. This time, they hurried after them.
“I am sorry,” they declared, “but the invitation extends to the Witch as well.”
“It does now.” V’ritan chuckled and turned to them. “In that case, we would be delighted to attend.”
They were immediately flanked by their escorts and returned. This time, they bypassed the dining hall and were led to the Council chambers. There, they stood before the chamber.
Stephanie pivoted on her heel and looked at the tiered rows of senators. One or two touched knuckles to their chests, but most merely looked down at her. She gave the chamber a Dreth salute, relieved when her team followed her example.
V’ritan and Brilgus stood slightly angled so they could see both sides. Their escorts stood around them, silent and tense. Jaleck waited in the center and her two guardsmen studied the Council calmly.
“V’ritan, you have welcomed the Witch into your company and given her the honor of your ship—and yet you stand before us as if at our command. Why?”
“I am the Ghargilum Afreghil, the King’s Warrior and Meligorn’s champion. The Witch is my champion and the champion of three worlds—whether they accept her or not. I fight for Meligorn, but she fights for all.”
“That remains to be seen.”
“Not by me, it doesn’t. Only the foolish doubt her and they are soon convinced or counted among the fallen.”
Another senator rose in his seat. “Are you threatening us?”
“No, Lord Hachtech. I merely state the facts. Those who refuse her protection often do not realize they need it until it is too late for her to reach them—and she will try.”
“Even if we command her otherwise?”
“And there is your second mistake. You think you can command her. No one commands the Morgana, save her heart, and it can be trusted to choose what is right every single time for the people.”
“For her people.”
“We are Dreth.”
“Nevertheless, she counts you as her own.”
The senator looked at Stephanie. “Is this true?”
She lowered her chin in a very Dreth sign of acknowledgment. “It is.”
“And if we deem you unworthy?”
“The Fortress will reveal my worth.”
“You’re very sure of yourself.”
“I am very sure of my worth.”
“Some would call you arrogant.”
“Some would be making a grave mistake.”
Several sharply indrawn breaths greeted this statement and another senator rose.
“Show us your magic.”
Stephanie met his gaze. As she held it, she tested the world around her for magic. While she still had a full store of gMU and MU, she wanted to hold those in reserve for the trial. Instead, she reached out in search of what she already thought of as dMU.
Every world had energy, right? Every world had gMU in smaller amounts.
Yet that was not what she found here. In reality, she found nothing at all.
She frowned. Nothing? She tried again but still, nothing revealed itself.
The Senator grew tired of waiting. “Well, Morgana. What are you waiting for?”
It took effort but she managed to hold her temper and forced a smile. She continued to smile as she looked around the chamber and deliberately met the eyes of the senators as she did so.
“Now, why,” she asked them, “would I show my abilities when you have yet to choose your champions for tomorrow?”
This drew several chuckles and a couple of snorts, so she arched an eyebrow and tilted her head in a challenge.
“Perhaps you would like to tell me exactly how many you will send against us tomorrow?”
“Us?”
She nodded. “You summoned me to show you what I have to offer your world.” She gestured with a hand to indicate her team. “I do not fight alone.”
After a moment’s pause, she let the smile fade from her face. “So, Lord Echgrech...how many champions will you field? And what are their weapons of choice?”
Again, she gave him time to answer. “No? How about their fighting styles?”
The senator cleared his throat and shook his head. “Those are details I am not willing to release.”
This time, whe
n she smiled, she showed her teeth in the Dreth fashion. “Then you should not expect that of me.”
Taking control of the conversation, she surveyed the Council. “Is there anyone else who expects a magic show? The price of a ticket is to reveal what you will send against me tomorrow.”
She waited before she prodded them again. “Anyone?”
After another careful scrutiny of the assembly, she finally sighed. “Then perhaps you should ask whatever else is on your agenda because my team needs to rest tonight. They have a very big day, tomorrow—as I am sure you aware.”
“No,” Endrageth answered. “Thank you. You have answered our questions adequately.”
“And I?” V’ritan challenged, and the Dreth lord made an impatient motion with his hand.
“No. Thank you. The Council appreciates your time and patience. We will see you in the morning as previously arranged.”
Stephanie favored the chamber with one final salute before she turned and led the others out into the night air. This time, the cars were waiting to return them to their accommodations.
The team breathed a sigh of relief when she decided to take them.
The newly-promoted Lieutenant Commander Wattlebird saw the next ship he’d be driving and gave a soft whistle. I must have done something right, he thought and tried to ignore the whisper that followed. Or very, very wrong.
“Well, hello, sweetheart,” he murmured and pushed aside any doubts. “Papa’s home.”
Taking one more moment to admire the beautiful craft, he adjusted his duffle bag on his shoulder and stepped onto the gangplank. His chief engineer greeted him at the door.
“Welcome aboard, sir.”
“Cameron Hargreaves?”
“Yes, sir.”
Wattlebird offered his hand. “A pleasure to meet you, Chief. Jonathan.”
The two men shook hands. “Where would you like to start, sir?”
The pilot looked down the length of the corridor. “Show me where to drop my duffle and we’ll start at the bottom and work our way up.”
“This way, sir.”
An hour later, when they reached the engine rooms, he caught his guide’s longing glance at his office. “You know, I can take myself around,” he said. “I am cleared—”
Witch Of The Federation III (Federal Histories Book 3) Page 29