Chapter Thirty-Two

Carann, Royal Palace

Ceana Preas looked up and smiled as Latharna entered her office. “Well, well,” she said. “Miss Dhenloc – or rather, Lady Dhenloc, I should say. You have come up in the galaxy since you left here, haven’t you?”

Latharna drew a deep breath, but the ambassador’s pleasant tone reassured her somewhat. “Ambassador Preas,” she said, “I regret that I must tender my resignation as your aide. As I have accepted the position of Dozen Stars knight and Queen’s Champion, it wouldn’t be appropriate for me to continue working for the Realtran government. I am sorry.”

“I guess that working for a queen is rather more pressing than working for an ambassador,” Ambassador Preas said. “Even if the Ambassador is a representative of your own country and the queen isn’t.” Latharna opened her mouth to protest, but the ambassador waved her away. Don’t worry about it,” she said. “Desperate times call for desperate acts, and I imagine that in the heat of the moment it wasn’t an offer you could have refused, as unprecedented as it might be. Besides, I’d been told that it was likely you wouldn’t be working for me for long.” Latharna frowned – what did that mean? Who had told her? – but the ambassador continued.

“Besides, on the issue of Realtran-Dozen Stars relations, at least, you’ve done right by your nation. Word of your heroics on Tantos, Katanes, and Aurann has leaked to the media, and as I’m sure you’ve noticed, they’ve made you quite a star. ‘The White Knight of Realtran’ is what they’re calling you – for your hair, I would assume.” Latharna blushed and turned her face away at that; she still didn’t know who had talked to reporters about her and remained rather ambivalent about her newfound fame. “I’ve been in contact with King Luagh and we’ve agreed that your taking service with Artakane is to be presented as an act of goodwill between our two nations and a reaffirmation of the bond the Dozen Stars and Realtran have long shared as allies and neighbors. And I hear the queen herself is planning on honoring you at the ceremony later today.”

“That part is true,” Latharna said, feeling uncomfortable at the attention. She glanced down at herself and the clothing she was wearing; a red robe tied at the waist, not quite a dress but more formal and dignified than shirt and trousers, and of course, with her dueling sword at her waist. She was supposed to look the part of a stately warrior, or so Karani, who’d picked out the outfit, assured her. Latharna herself wasn’t quite sure whether she managed it. “In fact, I’ve been sent to escort you to the council chamber. Consider it my last act before leaving your service.”

“I think I shall,” Ambassador Preas said, standing. She walked around her desk and came up beside Latharna, and together they left the office and headed for the council chamber. “And, off the record,” she added in a low voice, “I am proud of you. A stable Dozen Stars is good for Realtran, after all.”

Latharna turned to the older woman and smiled. “The information you gave me to pass on to Arta came in handy as well,” she said. “We’d never have managed to break Respen’s grip on Aurann without it.”

Ceana snorted quietly. “Respen was a monster, and he would have fallen sooner or later, one way or another,” she said. “The only question was how much damage he’d manage to do on his way down – and to whom. Another reason King Luagh is grateful to you; if Respen had become king, it’s doubtful peace between our kingdoms could have lasted. He was not a man who would have been content without conquest.”

They walked in silence for some time before the ambassador spoke again. “Speaking of conquest, I heard about what happened yesterday with old Quarinis – don’t look so startled! I have my ways of getting news, and your makeup can’t hide all your bruises this close. I always knew he was a dangerous man and never trusted him, but I never imagined he was involved in… all of that. It seems all the way back to Aestera’s death, this kingdom has been reacting to his schemes.”

“He got away,” Latharna said. “Arta thinks we haven’t seen the last of him. Mardoban too.”

“Mardoban is wise, when he remembers not to let that romantic streak get the better of him,” Ceana said. “And Her Majesty is an Adept, and it’s never wise to discount an Adept’s intuition. No, Quarinis and his Emperor bear the Dozen Stars a hatred that I don’t understand – the Alaelam Alliance is far more threatening to them. Be on your guard, Latharna. I fear that dangerous times lie ahead, and your young queen is going to need your help to get through it.”

“I will be there for her,” Latharna said. “I promise.”

Ceana chuckled. “I was right about how you felt about her, wasn’t I?” she asked. “Ah, to be young. Yes, she may need you. But don’t forget, Latharna, wherever you go or whatever you become, that you are a daughter of Realtran. That is something that you can never change.”

Latharna frowned. “What makes you say that?” she said. “It sounds like a warning.”

“More of a reminder,” Ceana said. “Just remember that you will likely need us. And someday, we may need you.”

///

Artakane ast Carann, Queen of the Dozen Stars, Duchess of Carann, Protector of the Realm and many other things besides sat on her throne at the head of the council chamber and regarded the crowds spread out before her. She was clad in a rich gown of blue laced with gold; her hair elegantly styled, and face made up; the crown whose light had proclaimed her queen rested on her brow. She bore a dueling sword across her lap, but it was sheathed – though she had come from battle, today’s ceremony would be of peace. Mechs hovered in the air before her, recording her image and her words and transmitting them across the Dozen Stars.

When the hall was filled, Arta raised her hand for silence, and then she spoke, declaring the brief civil war to have ended and praising those who had fought for the Dozen Stars, and pausing to remember those who had died in the defense of their Kingdom. Then she began to call forth those whom she would personally honor. First came Leilin Rehan, lieutenant of the Royal Guard, who knelt before the Queen and received her promotion to captain in honor of her exemplary service during the crisis. Then Darius ast Sakran approached, resplendent in red and gold, and was confirmed as the new Duke of Sakran following the deposing of his father, who had been placed in a holding cell in the palace as he awaited his trial for treason.

More new dukes were confirmed. Digran Tassis – who refused on principle to put an “ast” in his name and seemingly couldn’t resist winking irreverently as he knelt before the throne – officially became Duke of Aurann, to much muttering from the more traditional among the aristocracy. Ariana ast Tashir, Sateira’s niece, threw herself on Arta’s mercy, insisting she’d had nothing to do with her aunt’s plotting. For all that the girl was no older than herself Arta wasn’t sure she credited that, but since under Ariana’s direction Tashir had ceased all hostilities it had been agreed by the Council that she was to be permitted to succeed to her aunt’s title. Kallistrae ast Tantos was confirmed once again in her position as Duchess of Tantos, having taken her planet back decisively from the occupying and guild forces. A number of guild representatives then approached the throne, insistently disavowing Gaspar Madran and the Tantos guilds’ alliance with the rebels. Based on what Arta had heard from Kallistrae and Darius she didn’t entirely trust that but had decided it was better to keep the guilds under her eye for the time being.

Finally, Latharna Dhenloc approached the throne, and formally pledged her service to the queen as a knight of the Dozen Stars. Kneeling, she kissed Arta’s hand; then she looked up, and their eyes met. In that moment, the task of bringing her wounded nation back together and the looming threat of the Empire and the escape of Quarinis mattered little to Arta, for at this moment more than any other, she felt certain that thus far, she had done right.

///

When the ceremony was done, Darius returned to his quarters where he removed and folded his ornamental outer cape, and then, feeling a bit more comfortable, he headed down deep to the palace’s prison level, and to a certain person who awaited him in the holding cells.

Naudar was seated on a small chair behind a shimmering, transparent force-field, clad in a grey prison jumpsuit rather than his former elegant suits. He appeared to be reading a novel – no doubt something he’d gotten a guard to fetch him from the palace library – and he calmly marked his page and looked up when he saw his eldest son approaching. His cell was fairly large and contained a bed, a holoscreen, and several pieces of comfortable furniture, but it was still smaller than what the Duke of Sakran was used to, had no windows to the outside, and of course, there was the ever-present force-field that kept him in while allowing the guards to watch his every move. A pleasant enough prison, but still a prison.

“Well, well,” Naudar said. “If it isn’t my treacherous heir. Or are you the duke now? Forgive me if I don’t stand; I seem to have misplaced my cane, and it’s difficult for me to move quickly without it. Come to gloat, have you?”

“I’m not here to gloat, Father,” Darius said. “I wanted to come and see you, make sure you weren’t being mistreated. Despite everything that’s happened, you’re still my father, and I don’t wish you ill. I just felt that the place you were leading our Duchy would have been disastrous for Sakran, and for the Kingdom.”

Naudar snorted. “You haven’t changed, boy,” he muttered. “Always so noble, so gallant. You must get it from your mother; Lord knows I always tried to raise you to be more pragmatic. As you can see, I am as comfortable as can be expected in my circumstances, but I am still unable to ignore the fact that I am a prisoner. And I expect I’ll be at your queen’s tender mercies soon enough.”

“She’s not ‘my’ queen, she’s the Dozen Stars’ queen,” Darius said. “And she intends to see you stand trial for rebelling against the Crown. But I wouldn’t be too worried. It’s been centuries since a duke – or a former duke – was executed. If you’re lucky and manage to convince the tribunal that you’re genuinely contrite, I may be able to persuade Her Majesty to allow you to be sent to Sakran to serve out your sentence under house arrest.”

“I’m overjoyed at the prospect,” Naudar muttered. He opened his book again and seemed to be reading, but Darius thought it seemed to him that he was only pretending. Finally, Naudar sighed and looked up. “Well, we’ve exchanged pleasantries. Is there a reason you’re still here? Are you proud of yourself, Darius?”

Darius looked at him oddly. “Why wouldn’t I be?” he said. “I helped end a war and keep a tyrant – or three tyrants – from the throne. I’m not proud it took me so long to get there, but I tried to do right in the end.”

“Do right?” Naudar asked. “You’re a duke now, son, not a storybook knight. ‘Right’ is what benefits your duchy the most in the long-term, not what assuages your aching conscience. Are you really prepared for what you’ve unleashed? You condemn me for working for the Empire, but have you stopped to consider what that meant? The Empire’s interest is turning towards us again, Darius – it seemingly has been for years, even if it’s just now becoming evident. If my plan had worked, they would have had an ally on the throne and had no reason for hostility with us. But now they know Artakane is their enemy. And Verus Licinius isn’t a man you want for your enemy. I don’t know what he’s planning, but I doubt it will be pleasant. I could have spared us that.”

“So, rebelling against Artakane was an act of altruism, I take it?” Darius asked, but he knew there was truth in his father’s words. He still ached from the fight with Quarinis’s praetorians, and he remembered the ambassador’s words. War. War was coming.

“Ah, you know it as well as I do,” Naudar said, reading the expression in his son’s eyes. “We’re more alike than you think, no matter how much you deny it.”

“Then help us,” Darius said. “Cooperate with Artakane. Tell her what you know about Quarinis – don’t look surprised at the name. I know you wouldn’t go into business with someone without learning all you can about them. If you really care so much for the Dozen Stars, help us protect it. Or are you really no better than Respen after all?”

Naudar paused. “I’ll consider it,” he said. “We’ll see what happens next, how Artakane handles herself – and how generous I’m feeling. I promise no more than that.” He paused. “Keep Tariti and Galen close. You’ll need someone watching your back, and as you so pointedly reminded me, you and your siblings stick together. Don’t forget that.”

“I’m surprised you still care,” Darius said.

Naudar waved a hand. “Of course, I do. Like you said, I’m still your father, no matter what has passed between us. And I have no intention of seeing House ast Sakran end in my lifetime. I still have plans, even here.”

“Don’t think that I will ever forget that, Father,” Darius said. He regarded Naudar one last time and nodded, then turned and left the prison, his father’s words – and the implications of what was to come – playing over and again in the back of his mind.

///

That evening, Arta and Latharna walked together in the palace gardens. The sky, seen through the glass dome above them, was dark; between the plants, they could occasionally make out the glittering lights of the city spread out below them. They still wore their court dress from earlier, though Arta had removed her crown and most of her jewelry and let her hair down; beside her, Latharna still wore her robe in her customary red. It wasn’t a dress, exactly, but still seemed more feminine that her usual wear; Arta thought that while Latharna always looked right in dueling gear, she wore the more formal attire well, nonetheless. She idly wondered if there were courses on formal court etiquette at the Dansa Academy; she had a feeling there were.

“It’s nice to just be able to walk together without having to worry about people trying to kill us,” Arta finally said. “I’ve missed that.”

Latharna chuckled. “It is,” she said, then paused, her expression serious. “But this isn’t over, is it?”

Arta sighed. “No, it’s not,” she said. “There are still rebel holdouts here and there, and we’ve yet received no response from the Empire regarding Quarinis’s escape. I expect that when that comes, it won’t be pleasant. But there’s more than that. I keep thinking about what we saw on Aurann – Respen turned his people into slaves in all but name, and he got away with it because our laws say that a Duke can run their own Duchy however they see fit. And then you had the guilds on Tantos buying up the planet bit by bit and eventually shooting at everyone who questioned it. I was there when something like that happened, before we met, even before I was queen.”

She shook her head. “It can’t go on, Latharna. I love my country, but there is so much wrong with it. Arrogant nobles who think they can do whatever they want, corrupt guilds happily betraying and exploiting the people to line their own pockets, and a church that stands aside, piously wringing its hands and doing nothing to help. It has to stop, Latharna. There has to be a better way. And I intend to find it.”

Latharna took Arta’s hands in her own. “You will,” she said. “And I’ll be there to help you.”

“Thank you,” Arta said. “And what about you? How are you adjusting to your new appointment? And how did Ambassador Preas take it?”

Latharna frowned thoughtfully. “Surprisingly well, actually,” she said. “It was almost like she’d been expecting it, though I have no idea how. As for me, I’m still trying to find my own path. I keep thinking of something Shiran told me, back on Aurann. He talked about how dedication to an ideal can lift us up, make us better for the striving, even if the ideal can’t be achieved. That’s what I’m looking for Arta – an ideal that’s worth following, that can make me better. Not just a warrior or even a knight, but someone who can protect those who can’t protect themselves and stand against everyone or everything that could do them harm.”

“Shiran is a wise man,” Arta said. “And that’s a noble goal. It makes me think if there might be some way to apply that not just to a person’s life, but to an entire nation. An ideal that will make us better for the striving…” her voice trailed off, lost in thought.

“Whatever you decide – whatever I decide,” Latharna said, “I promise you this, Arta – I will always walk with you, every step.”

She paused then, and Arta watched her curiously – and then, it seemed almost on impulse, Latharna leaned forward and kissed her on the lips. For a moment, Arta was surprised, and then she pulled Latharna into an embrace and kissed her back.

Strife and struggle and war were still to come, but for that moment, the Queen of the Dozen Stars was content.

///

Pakorus stepped around a bend in the garden and stopped as he saw Arta and Latharna on the path in front of him, embraced and kissing passionately. He felt his face flush red and immediately stepped backwards; thankfully, neither of them seemed to have noticed him.

He remembered Midaia’s words about how his investigation of the Commander had been about a desire to impress a girl and knew that there had been some element of truth to them. Now, however, he just shook his head ruefully. “Well, Pakorus,” he muttered to himself. “I guess you win some and lose some, eh?”

Silently wishing Arta and Latharna happiness, he turned away and walked back down the path, leaving the garden behind.

///

Elsewhere in the garden, near the edge of the glass dome, a man stood looking out over the capital city. He was tall and dark-skinned, white-bearded, appearing old but hale – though he was in truth far older than he seemed. He was, in fact, one of the oldest human beings alive, time having carried him far from home and family and friends. Nonetheless, Shiran had long since made peace with that fact, as far as he could. He’d had little choice. Such was the price of immortality.

The sound of footsteps echoed behind him – light enough that another man might have missed them, but not he. Shiran turned and saw the dark-cloaked form of Midaia walking towards him. “Shiran,” she said as she approached. “You’ve been avoiding me.”

“I’ve been very busy,” he said. “Investigating some of the same things you have – though I hear you had more luck than I did. Congratulations.”

“Is that all?” Midaia asked. “Just busy? It wasn’t a coincidence, then, that when I was told to seek you out, you were conveniently nowhere to be found?”

“Told?” Shiran asked. “By whom were you told, exactly? You know I have no love for your friends, Midaia. I do not trust them.”

Midaia shrugged. “The Neraida are not my friends,” she said, “but they are wise, and I have found it wise to listen when they speak. There is much to learn from them.”

“And in time there will be a price to pay for that knowledge,” Shiran said. “That is what I learned, long ago. They are not human; their ways are not our ways, and what moves them is not what moves us.”

“I will deal with that when the time comes,” Midaia said. “But for now, I am curious. The Neraida told me to seek you to find answers about the Commander. I discovered who he was, or what he was, and where he came from and who sent him – but one question remains, and that is why. Why was the Empire so determined to kill my mother and my sister? And what Adept is there who sits at the heart of the Empire and is greater than al’Aymar Alaen, or I – or even you? What do you know, Shiran?”

Shiran watched Midaia’s pale face intently, saw the resolve in her bright eyes, and finally closed his own eyes and nodded. “I know much,” he said. “Some of my history I have told you; some you have guessed. Long, long ago, I was born in the Empire, during a time of strife. And in that time, I said and did things that set in motion the events which now trouble this Kingdom. You have guessed right – the Emperor, Verus Licinius, is indeed an Adept, perhaps the greatest of our kind currently alive. And he and I have a very long history.” He gestured to Midaia. “Come with me. There are things that are best not discussed in the open. But I will tell you everything – or at least, everything that is relevant to the coming storm. And you, Midaia, will have to decide what it is you will do with that knowledge, and if you will rise above my mistakes – or if you will repeat them.”