Chapter Ten

Carann, Royal Palace

It took all of Arta’s willpower to avoid falling back into a nearby chair, hanging her head in her hands, and groaning in dismay. Queens don’t collapse at bad news, she told herself sternly. Queens don’t show shock and horror where others can see. Queens have to be strong, have to show the people that they have things well in hand, that problems can be solved, and someone knows what to do and is willing and able to do it.

If only, she thought wryly, any of those things were actually true.

Finally, Arta managed to draw a deep breath, collect herself, and look across the holodisplay in front of her to where Mardoban and Gilgam stood on the other side of the main table in the palace’s war room. “How did this happen?” she asked, hoping she sounded, if not regal, then at least somewhat in control.

“Sakran, Aurann, and Tashir Duchies have risen in rebellion against the Throne, Your Majesty,” Gilgam said. “Dukes Naudar and Respen, and Duchess Sateira, personally led strike forces against Tantos III. The defenders were outnumbered and apparently turned to the guilds for help.”

“And the guilds betrayed them,” Arta finished, closing her eyes and remembering a foggy night on Tantos III when guild security had turned its weapons against the duchy’s own citizens. No, she had few fond feelings towards the guilds whose offices were located on that world.

“What I want to know is, why did the guilds switch sides?” Mardoban asked. “In Hiram’s time, the guilds practically ran Tantos III, and I was under the impression that continued after he died. Was Kallistrae really that much of a threat to their control?”

“Royal Intelligence is still working on that, sir,” Gilgam said, “but based on the preliminary reports I saw, it appears that there were a significant amount of under-the-table payments and private communications passing between Tashir Duchy and the guild headquarters on Tantos prior to the attacks. I think that explains a great deal.”

“Of course, it does,” Mardoban muttered, rubbing his chin. “House ast Tashir is very wealthy, and over the years they’re underwritten a number of lucrative guild operations. If Tantos was in the guilds’ debt, the guilds themselves may have been in Tashir’s – and I wouldn’t put it past Sateira to manage to leverage that into a favor, or more than one. Maybe even smoothed the wheels for getting those assassins into the memorial dedication, though Sateira’s not the only one who can bribe a guildsman.”

“We’re looking into it, sir,” Gilgam said. “We’ll let you know what we turn up. In any case, the invading forces have occupied Tantos III, and for the moment we’re not getting much out of there. What their main goal is we’re not entirely sure, but Tantos III has a large number of unusually productive mines that create raw materials for shipbuilding. Coupled with Aurann’s own resources and facilities, it could be a significant problem for us.”

“It’s more than that,” Arta said, not entirely able to keep the trembling out of her voice. “Katanes is my homeworld, and it’s part of Tantos Duchy. They’re not just taking the planet because it’s useful to them; they’re sending a message. A message to me.”

“The assassins called Respen ‘King’,” Mardoban said. “So, this is his play, then. He tried to have you killed, and now he’s trying to seize the throne by force.”

“What do Sateira and Naudar get out of it, then?” Arta asked, frowning. “I only met them briefly, but I can’t imagine either of them sitting back and letting Respen take all the glory and power.”

“Maybe they have some sort of plan worked out to divide the spoils in a way that works for all three,” Mardoban said, “but I wouldn’t count on it. I think you may be onto something, Your Majesty, that may point towards a weakness we can use. If only…”

“Your Majesty, Your Grace, Captain Gilgam,” a voice suddenly called, and a woman in the uniform of a Royal Guard Lieutenant hurried over. “We’re receiving a communication from Tantos Duchy,” she said, bowing at the waist. “It’s coming through on private channels, directly to the palace.”

“Well, well,” Arta said. “It seems like we may find out more about what’s going on here after all.”

“We may just,” Mardoban said; he looked over at Arta and saw her nod, then turned back to the lieutenant. “Put it through.”

The guardswoman quickly keyed in a series of codes to a control panel along the war table’s side, and at once the holoimage of Tantos III vanished, replaced by a woman in clothing of military cut, whom Arta recognized at once. Kallistrae ast Tantos had been a proud, elegant woman, equally at home in armor or in a gown, and the young queen remembered when they had first met, the night of Duke Hiram’s party, when she had encouraged Arta to pursue her dreams of becoming a knight. That night seemed so long ago, and now Kallistrae’s eyes were hollow and her posture was slumped.

“This is Duchess Kallistrae ast Tantos, ruler of the planet Tantos III and all of Tantos Duchy by right of succession and the Lord’s grace,” the woman began, her voice flat; Arta had the feeling she was reading a statement someone had prepared for her. “This day it is my sad duty to report to you that Tantos Duchy has fallen. As I have proven unable to defend it, I find myself obligated to renounce my claim to the Duchy and abdicate my position, in favor of those who have proven more capable.” She paused, and then added “Lord forgive me,” under her breath.

The holoimage shifted and Kallistrae vanished to be replaced by three figures Arta recognized all too well. Sateira ast Tashir was haughty as ever but looked almost bored with the proceedings, while Naudar ast Sakran stood in a deceptively casual pose with a hand on his cane, but his eyes were shrewd. Respen ast Aurann, standing in front, was a different matter entirely; even over the holo there was a satisfied light in his cold eyes, and his smile was nothing less than predatory.

“Greetings, Pretender Artakane,” the duke of Aurann said, apparently speaking for all three of the rebels. “I see that you survived the trap I’d arranged for you yesterday; I’d be disappointed, but frankly, I think I prefer you being here to witness this. There’s a certain… poetry to it. And is that old Mardoban with you, too? He always was Aestera’s lapdog and now he’s apparently continuing the tradition with the next generation. A pity he didn’t choose the right side of the family to back.”

Arta fought her anger down – barely – using mental exercises Shiran had taught her. “Is there a point to this, Respen?” she asked. “Or are you just here to insult everyone? You didn’t need to conquer a planet to do it, if that’s what you want.”

“As entertaining as this has been, no,” Respen said. “I speak to you now as the Duke of Aurann and Tantos. Tantos III is in my power, and the rest of Tantos Duchy will soon follow. You’re familiar with Tantos Duchy aren’t you, Artakane? Or should I call you Arta ast Katanes? Whatever you’re calling yourself these days, this is my demand to you – step down from your throne and yield the monarchy to me, or I will unleash destruction upon Tantos such as the Dozen Stars have never known before.”

Arta felt her hands clench into fists and bolts of blue light played around them. “Considering what you’ve just said, I’d rather die,” she growled. “I never wanted to be queen, but I won’t hand this Kingdom over to a tyrant, either. If you start killing the civilians in Tantos – or anywhere else – we will move against you. And you will die.”

Respen looked like he was going to laugh, but then Sateira put her hand on his shoulder and whispered something into his ear – Arta wondered if it was a reminder of what had happened to the Commander, and that Arta had already proven herself in battle before she’d ever donned a crown. Finally, Respen nodded and turned his gaze back to the queen. “Duly noted,” he said. “However, I will remind you of this – Tantos is closer to Katanes than either is to Carann. Launch a war against me, and your adopted home will be the first world to feel my wrath. Do you want that on your conscience, child?”

Rage, red and hot, coursed through Arta’s head, but Mardoban put a calming hand on her shoulder. “Don’t let him see a reaction from you,” he whispered. “It’s what he wants.” Raising his voice, the Duke of Orlanes turned to Naudar. “And what about you, old friend?” he asked. “You were always ambitious, Naudar, but is supporting someone like this really in your best interests? You know what Respen will do if he feels denied – and what he will do if he does become King may well be worse. You’ve seen Aurann – you know its dukes have ruled with an iron fist. Is that what you want for the Kingdom?”

“We will deal with that when the time comes,” Naudar said. “Do you think it any better to leave the Kingdom in this untried girl’s hands? I fear what might happen should steps not be taken to direct her adequately. However, you still have a chance to avert any more needless deaths. Come to us on Tantos III in two weeks’ time, Artakane – in person. There we will discuss our terms for withdrawing from Tantos, and our goals for the future of the Kingdom. Attempt reprisal before then, and, regrettably, it is Katanes that will pay the price. Mardoban, know that I take no pleasure from this, and I regret that things had to reach this point. We will give you an hour to make your response.”

The holoimage flickered and vanished, leaving a cold silence to settle over the war room.

///

Tantos III had always been a gloomy world, Darius thought; as a child he’d visited the planet with his father and even then, he’d found its veil of heavy fog oppressive. Now it was under occupation, with guild security enforcing, at the instruction of the conquering dukes, a strict curfew, and these facts had not improved matters. At least before there’d been lights flashing in the darkness and a sense of motion on the streets as people went about their business, even if it was often hard to see them clearly from a distance. Now all seemed dark and still.

Darius sighed and turned from the window, looking over the opulent suite of rooms in the palace tower that he and his siblings had appropriated upon arrival. Tariti was lounging on a couch nearby, with her hands behind her head and her eyes half-closed, though if Darius knew his sister, she was still watching everything around her from behind hooded lids. Galen had vanished somewhere shortly after they’d arrived, and their father was off cloistered with Respen, Sateira, and the Security Guildmaster Gaspar Madran, whose machinations in conjunction with Sateira had made their victory possible.

Though a guest room – Kallistrae was, for the moment, still under house arrest in the ducal suite, watched over by a mix of Aurann’s knights and guild security personnel – the suite was still lavishly appointed, with plush furniture, crystal tables, and a number of tasteful sculptures depicting famous individuals from Tantos history. Darius was used to such luxury; Duke Naudar was known for his refined tastes and had made certain to instill an appreciation for luxury in his children. Still, something about this room seemed cold and unwelcoming to Darius, as if a voice was whispering to him that he was the invader here, that Tantos III might grudgingly accept his presence, but it would never welcome him.

The young knight shook his head. Events were in motion now, his father’s plans underway. He couldn’t afford to have doubts anymore. So instead he took a seat beside Tariti’s couch and stared down at his hands in silence.

The door to the suite slid open with a hiss and Galen stepped inside, carrying a tray on which rested a large bottle and several small glasses. “I return bearing gifts!” the youngest Sakran sibling said cheerfully as he set his burden down on the table in the middle of the sitting room and took a seat in the chair across from Darius.

Tariti sat up, looking intrigued. “And what have we here?” she asked, leaning forward.

“I managed to convince some of the serving mechs to show me Duke Hiram’s private wine stores,” Galen said. “Apparently, whatever his faults as a duke, he had an exquisite taste in drink. I figured that since we are here as victors, we might as well partake.” Leaning over, Galen popped the cork from the large bottle and filled the glasses, passing one each to Darius and Tariti and keeping a third for himself.

“To victory!” Galen said grandly and held up his glass; his siblings clicked theirs against his and then he and Tariti each took a long sip. Darius, however, didn’t drink – he simply stared down in his cup and swirled the liquid around in it.

“What’s the matter with you?” Tariti asked, looking concerned. “So far, everything is going according to Father’s plans. We should be happy, you especially. At this rate, you’ll be crown prince by the end of the year.”

“Our victory?” Darius asked. “Really, Tariti? We didn’t do anything to earn this, and Father didn’t do much. It was Sateira and her bought-and-paid-for guildsmen who won Tantos III for us. All we did was watch. And now all we’re doing is waiting, until Father gets through with his meeting with the others and comes back down with more instructions for us.”

“Who cares how it happened?” Galen asked. “The point is, we’re winning. And Sateira’s a peacock and Respen’s a mad dog; you’re a fool if you don’t think that Father’s not the one really in control, no matter who takes the credit. Besides, you’re the one who’ll get to be king someday if we win, and Tariti will get the house title. All I want is a second chance at the Katanes girl who thinks she can be queen.”

“Awww,” Tariti said in mock concern. “Still mad about the tournament, little brother? From what I saw, she beat you fair and square. Or are you just upset you got beaten by a girl? It’s not like I didn’t do it often enough when we were kids. Care for a rematch for old times’ sake?”

“I don’t have to listen to this from you,” Galen snapped, rising to his feet and spilling some wine from his glass. “It’s not about me, it’s about our family’s reputation and our honor! I won’t let some upstart of a girl stain that!”

Tariti looked like she was going to respond to that, but Darius stood and put himself between them, holding out both hands. “Enough, both of you!” he said. “Galen, you’ll get your chance – or not – to fight Artakane again when the time comes. And Tariti, stop needling him. The honor of our family is important to all of us; let’s not night over it. Truce?”

“Truce,” Tariti said, and Galen nodded sullenly. It wasn’t just his personal pride at stake, Darius knew – as abrasive as his younger brother could be, and as much as Darius didn’t always approve of his methods, Galen was, in his own way, deeply loyal to family.

Still, the prospect of waiting all day in a room with his siblings was giving Darius a headache. Sighing, he sat his drink down and began to walk towards the door. “I’m going to get some air and take a look around,” he said. “Do you promise me you two won’t destroy the suite while I’m gone? Just because Father and the others are in charge here now doesn’t meaning fixing things here is free, you know. Our new friends in the guilds wouldn’t stand for that.”

Galen and Tariti nodded, the latter regarding Darius questioningly, but she didn’t voice whatever it was she was thinking. Darius turned and stepped into the hallway, barely noticing the rich carpet as he made his way, half-deliberately, to the nearest lift. Stepping inside, he entered a few keystrokes and then rode it upwards to the floor where his father was meeting with his co-conspirators.

He stepped out into another long hallway, though the wall on one side of this one was solid glass, revealing the foggy Tantos sky and the dim lights of nearby towers flickering through the gloom. The other side was lined with doors to various conference rooms. Darius stopped by the door behind which the rebel dukes had planned to send their holomessage to Carann, but it looked dark now, and sticking his head in he confirmed it was empty. If Naudar had been here before, he clearly wasn’t now, and the message must have already been sent. Idly, Darius wondered what Artakane’s reaction had been. Remembering their duel at the tournament, he doubted it had been one of meek capitulation.

The sound of voices distracted him from his thoughts. Frowning, Darius made his way down the hallway to another door, which was open a crack. Inside he saw his father; Naudar was seated at a desk on whose top rested a small holoprojector, which emitted a miniature image of a faceless humanoid figure – man or woman, he couldn’t tell.

“-operation has so far been successful,” Naudar was saying. “Tantos is ours, and we await the Queen’s response.”

“And you are certain we aren’t being overheard?” the figure said in a garbled voice. “Our words are not liable to be pleasing to all ears.”

Naudar glanced towards the door, and Darius was certain his father saw him, but the Duke of Sakran merely shook his head. “Respen and Sateira have retired to their chambers on the next floor down,” he said. “I’ve had my people confirm it. They won’t be spying on us.”

“Good,” the figure said. “The attempt on the Queen’s life was foolish and, predictably, it failed. Respen overplayed his hand. Fortunately, you managed to act quickly enough that she didn’t have time to react.”

“Yes,” Naudar agreed. “We’re fulfilling our end of the arrangement. I trust you will do the same?”

“I honor my agreements, Naudar,” said the holo. “So long as you and your allies continue to perform, you will continue to have access to my resources. Continue in this vein, and soon you will have what you desire – an ast Sakran dynasty on the throne of the Dozen Stars.”

“Respen and Sateira won’t be happy about that,” Naudar said. “And I had thought you said you didn’t care which of us ruled; I suppose that wasn’t entirely honest of you?”

“Of course not. Respen is a psychopath and Sateira is a narcissist. You are merely a realist, and it would serve my interests better to see you succeed than either of your allies. When the time comes to settle the score, you will have my support. But that day is hopefully some time away yet. What of the Queen?”

“We have contacted her,” Naudar said. “We await her response, but do not doubt what it will be.”

“Good. I have matters of my own to attend to. Contact me again when you have Artakane in custody. Then we shall discuss our next move.” The holoimage flickered and vanished.

Naudar sat at the desk for a long, quiet moment, and then turned to the door. “You can come in now, Darius,” he said. “My business is over.”

Darius did as he was bidden, instinct overriding the countless questions boiling in his mind. After he took a seat across from his father, one of them managed to make its way to the top. “Who was that?” he asked.

“Someone who wishes to see Artakane fall,” Naudar said. “Beyond that, you don’t need to worry yourself. Now, I presume you were listening in for most of that? Don’t tell your siblings, and I trust it goes without saying not to mention it to anyone else. The next phase of our operation is about to begin. This is what I want you to do…”

///

Arta sighed and leaned back in her chair, looking up at the war room’s ceiling. “Our hour’s almost up,” she said. “I know it’s probably a trap, but I can’t just stand by and let them attack Katanes, Mardoban. I can’t.”

“It’s obviously a trap,” Mardoban said. “They’re taking advantage of your protectiveness and sense of honor to try and lure you to Tantos III. But I know you can’t step aside and let innocent people be hurt, no matter how much it might benefit you to do so.” He smiled sadly. “You mother was the same way.”

“Then what do you recommend I do?” Arta asked. “Walk into it?”

“Exactly,” the duke said. “Walk into it with your eyes open – and having made preparations to take advantage of the situation and turn their trap for you into a trap for them.”