Her Father's Fugitive Throne

by Brandon Barr

  “Enough with the Scrivers!” growled Theurg, turning in his chair to face Galthess. “What are you trying to do here?”

  “She’s already chosen her path,” said Galthess, his voice cold. He exchanged a long look with Theurg, but Winter could only see Galthess’ face.

  “Give me a little more time,” said Theurg, almost pleadingly.

  Galthess eyes grew heavy. “Two days.”

  Winter thought their conversation odd. There was some deeper communication passing between them that she could sense but didn’t understand.

  “What do you do with Oracles who aren’t delivered?” asked Winter.

  “Usually we monitor them,” said Galthess. “Keep in touch. Some change their minds later in life.”

  Theurg turned and looked at her. She saw frustration in his eyes. And anger, but not at her.

  “I wouldn’t mind that,” said Winter. “I’m sure I’ll have more questions in the future.”

  The words felt like a lie coming out her mouth. She did have more questions, but she was determined to step through the portal, so she wouldn’t be around much longer to ask them.

  Chapter Fourteen

  KARIENCE

  This wasn’t Karience’s first time being called before the quorums in the Hall of Discourse, but it was the first time she had to speak without the illusion of unrivaled power. Her impressive Guardian Tower, the visual symbol of Guardian supremacy, had been destroyed. The Loamian Royals who had supported her were in disarray. Some felt deceived. Others were simply being swallowed up in the loud voice of the Opposition Movement that strove to tear the charter to pieces and drive the Guardians off their world. Arentiss and Rueik sat behind her, watching the scene.

  Karience knew she had to convince the quorums to continue trusting in the Guardians, and in their ability to protect Loam. If the charter were broken, then everything she’d worked to accomplish in twenty-eight years would end in failure.

  Queen Taia glared at Karience from the podium. “As you know,” she continued, “my support of your charter has shifted recently. I question your use of force against my brother, Baron Rhaudius, and I doubt your promise to keep our people’s traditions and ways of life intact. What say you regarding the actions you’ve taken on my brother’s farmlands?”

  Karience sensed the Opposition Movement was going for the throat, and she felt defenseless before their anger. Her only weapon was level-headed reason.

  “Ladies and gentlemen of the Royal Quorums, regarding the incident with Baron Rhaudius, I want to point out that my use of force was non-lethal and employed only for the sake of peace and saving lives. I used a device that put a hostile gathering to sleep. Hardly a thing one can condemn, considering a great slaughter of men and women was about to occur. Additionally, the lives of two of the three emissaries I came to retrieve were in jeopardy. I was forced to act, and my actions cost no lives. I do not see reason for fault against me.”

  “You aided a rebellion, Empyrean,” said Queen Taia. “My brother had every right to bring down the law on those resisting his rule.”

  “Did your brother inform you that he was lying in a pool of his own blood when I arrived? I saved his life. Would you rather I did not intervene?”

  Queen Taia appeared caught off guard. Perhaps Rhaudius hadn’t mentioned that part. “You had every reason to save my brother’s life. He was enacting the law, whereas the rebels were fighting against it. You and your Missionaries come from a different way of life, and it colors everything you do. Peace is not won by saving rebels and talking with those subservient to your station. Peace is won by putting resistors to the sword, axe, or rope. I am aware that your charter requires that we adjust some of our ways, and prior to your intervening on my brother’s land, I was inclined to go ahead with your proposal. But as I’ve said already, your customs are not ours, and your confusion between royalty and rebel is unacceptable.”

  Karience couldn’t resist a small, mocking laugh. “Queen Taia, your brother’s farmers are no better off than slaves. The contracts he had them sign are as slippery as the legists that penned them. Deceptive practices to subjugate farmers and their families. Are Royals above the law? Do they consider themselves better than the farmers?”

  “Of course we are better, and smarter,” said Taia. “Is a horse equal to its rider? Royals did not come to their station by a roll of dice. We came because we have better blood. Royal blood.”

  Karience felt a cold fury stir in her chest. She glared at Queen Taia.

  “You can choose to believe that Royals shit out flowers because your blood is special, but a simple sniff and a look down in the toilet bowl proves it’s the same stink as everyone else.”

  A roar sounded from the seats surrounding her. She had tried to stay civil. But patience was not her strong point when confronted by Royal vanity.

  The room quieted under Queen Taia’s upraised hand. “Again, you’ve proven your arrogance and sense of superiority. Now that a single ship has brought down your mighty defenses, I wonder what these phantom Beasts you’ve warned us against would do. Your protection is weak, and your promises lie in rubble.”

  Karience’s composure was on the verge of collapse when she felt a tug at her arm and turned. It was Arentiss.

  “If I might have a word, Empyrean,” she asked.

  “Thank you,” hissed Karience through her clenched teeth. “I want to smack that woman.” Karience stepped aside and Arentiss stood beside her, hawk-faced.

  “Your assertion is faulty,” stated Arentiss. “The charter did not promise full protection until all the requirements were met. Until you became a fully chartered world, you set the limit on the number of ships and Shield Force members we station here. You chose one starship and a questionable amount of Shield Force to protect your world. The results are what you see. We were attacked by a well-armed mercenary vessel. There are many of these ships that roam the stars. You would be wise to increase our numbers here, not diminish them or break faith with the charter.”

  Karience glanced at Arentiss, thankful for her cool reason.

  “And as to the Beasts,” continued Arentiss. “A single army would raze Anantium to the ground in a day and rape an entire continent in a week. I’ve studied at length these demented soldiers, as has Karience. That is why we are here. We care about your people’s protection. We are willing to risk Guardian lives on behalf of yours. That is why we are concerned about the farmers as much as everyone present today. We aren’t here to save Royals alone, but everyone on your world.”

  A light applause came from mostly the first quorum, which had been their ally since the start. Karience reached out and squeezed Arentiss’ shoulder. Sometimes all it took was a fresh voice of reason…one that wasn’t tainted with frustration.

  A loud bang of a gavel sounded from the house conciliator. “We shall now hear from Prince Damien of the first quorum.”

  Karience watched him approach with anticipation. The handsome young prince was an anomaly among the Royals. Unlike many of them, he had a unique, honest style—almost as if he’d been trained on an upworld. He was opposed to Queen Taia and Baron Rhaudius’ brand of politics, even if they were at times allies. He viewed the farmers and common peasants as being equal to Royals, and he was sympathetic to their conditions. And yet, he opposed any interference from outside. Karience had a hard time understanding why, when his values were so close to that of the Guardians. The one thing he seemed to trust more than anything else was the ability of his world to solve its own problems. Autonomy. Freedom. These were values at the core of the man.

  Damien took the podium, his face solemn. “Empyrean, Missionary Arentiss, I sometimes find myself lost in your presentations, dreaming of Loam’s future under your leadership. What would it be like to have Baron Rhaudius’ farmers given fair contracts? Or to alleviate the heavy tariffs we place on the seafarers from other lands? These and many other unjust practices would be eliminated by the honorable Guardian standards as laid out in the charter
.”

  Damien’s brow furrowed as his gaze held on the second quorum. “Many of my fellow Opposition members accuse me of weakening our position by such admissions. So be it. I am opposed to the charter, not because its principles are wrong, but because it would destroy any chance for us to achieve these principles on our own.

  “When our children’s children look in their history books, the only heroes they would find would be the outsiders who came and saved us from our misbegotten ways. Loamians would be forever seen as weak, unable to save ourselves.”

  Damien lifted his chin, his eyes scanning the three quorums. “I believe in us. Loam can overcome these injustices. It may not be overnight, but as long as we give ourselves the chance for heroes and champions, I believe good men and women will take up the call. Queen Taia, we are not better and smarter than the farmer or the peasant. We are privileged. Educated. I support the dismantling of the charter so that I, and others like myself, might defeat your inhumane views. The Guardians are well-meaning, but in the end, they would rob us of this important task. We must grow up on our own, lest we be dependent on others’ civility our entire lives.”

  Raucous applause erupted throughout the hall. Karience was utterly impressed by the prince. He’d attacked Queen Taia, a figurehead in his own Opposition movement, and by doing so, he’d clearly won more Royals to his side. There were very few men or women still seated along with Queen Taia and Baron Rhaudius, the thunderous clapping near deafening in the acoustics of the Discourse Hall.

  Arentiss looked at Karience, one brow perked, as if to say, now what? Karience moved to stand beside her and shook her head. There really wasn’t any way to win against Damien’s argument. It was a problem addressed in her Peace Theory class during her first phase of Empyrean training. The counter argument was that the heroes of a world could be found in those members who fought for the Guardian charter, thus aligning themselves with equality and justice. However, Damien’s reasoning was so well-stated, she doubted any mention to the contrary would be heard favorably. Best to press her strongest attack.

  “You’ve spoken well, Prince Damien,” said Karience. “I’ll surrender that point to you. It is an acknowledged issue amongst the Guardians. Our goal is not to change your culture, but at the same time, it is impossible for good men and women within the ranks of the Guardians to defend a world while watching the underclass continue to be exploited and treated cruelly. Without the charter erasing these inequitable practices, we cannot defend your world. Unless…” she paused dramatically and scanned the room. “Unless you are able to bring about the change yourselves before the allotted time.”

  A hush fell over the hall. She had their attention now.

  “If you were to bring about the justice Prince Damien so zealously fights for, you could retain our military protection against Beasts and mercenaries alike. What say you here today? Be the heroes Prince Damien is calling for. Bring an end to the injustice that continues within the quorums. Chase it out and retain the protection of the Guardians.”

  A hum of voices came from the quorums.

  Prince Damien nodded slowly, then turned to the conciliator. “I think the Empyrean’s words merit a week’s recess to discuss.”

  The hall resonated with shouts of agreement. The gavel sounded. “We return a week from today,” called the conciliator.

  Karience moved over to sit beside Rueik. Arentiss followed as the room hummed with voices.

  “Nicely done,” said Rueik. “Who can resist a challenge like that?”

  “It’s far from protocol,” said Karience. “I’m not sure what the Magnus Empyrean will think, but I saw no other alternative.”

  “Excuse me, Empyrean,” said someone from behind. Karience pivoted to find Prince Damien’s neatly-shaven face waiting for her with a sober look. “I have a question about this offer you’ve extended to us…is it a certain promise?”

  Karience bowed. “I’m afraid it isn’t certain yet, but I will go to the Magnus Empyrean. I will fight for an amendment to the charter. One that would contain a caveat that if adequate steps are being taken to improve the lives of the underclass, extensions to Loam becoming a fully-chartered world might be offered indefinitely, as long as the trajectory is positive.”

  “I am eager to hear what your superiors have to say,” said Damien. “Your offer is just. Tell your Magnus Empyrean that if he would make such an amendment, I could guarantee its successful ratification in the quorums.”

  “Thank you, Prince Damien,” said Karience. “You are an exceptional leader, and I do not say that lightly. I wish we had more like you within our order.”

  A quick smile faded from Prince Damien’s lips, replaced by deep concern. “I heard many Guardian lives were lost yesterday. There was one particular Missionary called Zoecara whom I’d grown quite close to. Have you any knowledge of her whereabouts?”

  Karience remained stoic, hiding her concern. What had Zoecara been up to visiting Damien? Even more now, Karience smelled the stench of a Shadowman. “I’m afraid she was captured by the mercenaries, along with three other Missionaries. I’m sorry to give you such bad news.”

  A weight settled over his face. “Is there any chance of recovering her and the others?”

  “I’m afraid it is very slim. We have only our one starship. Perhaps if we had more, we could have pursued them into space.”

  Damien nodded slowly. “If you will secure that amendment, I’ll fight for allowing more Guardian peace keepers to be stationed here. Including more starships. Perhaps a hunt for the mercenary vessel might be possible?”

  “I’ll do all that I can, Damien,” said Karience. “You have my word on that. Would you care to meet me for dinner two days from now? I’ll have spoken to my superior and should have an answer for you.”

  “Yes, of course,” said Damien. “I insist you come to my home. I will anticipate a celebration.”

  “As will I,” said Karience. She hoped Higelion’s political senses were working, otherwise Damien’s much-needed alliance would be short lived.

  RUEIK

  In the throng of babbling Royals, he found Queen Taia speaking to the conciliator at the edge of the Discourse Hall. As soon as she finished her conversation with the man, Rueik swooped in beside her. “Queen Taia, it is an honor to meet you.”

  “Is it?” she said coldly, turning to face him.

  Rueik stepped very close to her and whispered, “Do you want the Guardians gone?”

  Queen Taia’s brows narrowed as she scowled at him, but he knew his voice had held no hint of jest. “You know as well as anyone I want you gone,” said Taia sharply.

  “I can help you.”

  The queen’s eyes grew curious as they recognized his sincerity.

  “How is that?”

  “The Empyrean and Damien are having dinner two nights from now. Do you see any opportunity in that?”

  Taia smiled thinly. “What are you getting at?” she whispered.

  Rueik whispered back. “Are you up to framing the Empyrean for murder?”

  Surprise washed over the queen’s face, finally giving way to a crooked smile. Taia glanced casually around the room, then spoke softly, “Would you care to meet this evening? I’m greatly excited by your offer.”

  Rueik gave a slight bow. “I would be honored.”

  She removed a small card from her purse, glanced to her right, then covertly placed the card in his hand. “Wait until after dark. You’ll find me at this address. Use the back door. Number nine.”

  HEARTH

  Is it not a contradiction to the whore and her customer to treasure the other’s character? Can adulterers revere the other’s devotion? Or would it not cool the very passion of the young firebloods, if they were to imagine the moral strength of the other as they consumed them?

  Many claim an unscrupulous lover is the best lover of all. This is only the claim of one who has exalted the idea that a person’s lack of principles enhances the sexual experience. And ironically, the ver
y thing sought after—the desire for heightened sexual encounter—will always be inferior to the lovemaking of those practiced lovers who’ve perfected their art upon the well-worn marriage bed.

  For when the fleshing drumbeats vary and the entangled bodies move from posture to posture, from bed to floor, from starlit pool to lush midnight grasses, it is only the faithful lovers who can look into the eyes of the other and know the truest beauty shining therein: the intelligent, living spirit of another soul of which it takes a joyous lifetime to explore and cherish.

  -Magena’s Rules, Ch. 4, Mind and Eroticism, Book of Intimacy

  Chapter Fifteen

  MELUSCIA

  “By decree of the King, those false prophets are not allowed past our walls,” said a tall, intimidating figure with a rough black beard. He stood atop the gates of Soravell’s outer wall.

  “Hail, Commander Rhoan,” said Captain Solvig. “They are part of King Trigon’s peace delegation.”

  “I have my orders, Captain. They have tried to pass these gates two times before but are not to enter the royal city. We can provide them a vacant peddlers’ quarters outside the city walls, but that is the extent of it.”

  “Very well, the prophets will stay outside,” said Meluscia, riding up along Solvig. “I am Meluscia, King Trigon’s daughter, and I come under the auspices of peace. Commander Rhoan, would you kindly escort my party before your King?”

  “Gladly,” said the commander with a bow. The tall gates swung slowly open, and then the commander appeared down below. “Welcome to Soravell, the City of Red Dawns.” He waved them inside. “Our stablemen will give your horses food and rest. I and Solvig’s brigade will see you to Feaor’s courts.”

  Inside the outer gates, Meluscia dismounted and handed her horse off to a young stable boy. Commander Rhoan approached her. “Your eye and cheek,” said the commander, “That is a fist strike—do you need a call to the physicker?”