Keeper (First Ordinance #2)(10)
It was my hope that Omina wouldn't become an insufferable monarch—I'd not appreciated her haughty attitude in Vhrist. I also hoped she'd realize that the crew on the ships would answer ultimately to Berel, who would represent the High President while in Fyris.
"Will you have your guards about you in Fyris?" I turned to Berel.
"I hadn't thought about that yet. Do you think I need them?"
"Yes," I nodded. "No life will be safe in Fyris when Tamblin learns of your arrival."
"Then I will arrange for Jhak and the others to be with me," Berel shrugged. "Do you believe the communication devices will work from there? I wish to remain in contact with my father and Melis, his Chief of Security."
"I don't know—they have nothing of the sort there," I shook my head. "They are backward in comparison to Kondari standards. They ride horses and drive wagons made of wood. They have no refrigeration. When the day is hot, their only option is to open a window."
"You think they failed to evolve—to make the steps toward technology?"
"They have little there. Fyris doesn't have deep mines of copper, iron or other metals. What little they find is either made into pots, handmade tools or weapons. Before I became aware, they traded with the Avii; they make no glass in Fyris, either."
"What can you tell me about Tandelis?"
"Nothing. He was dead before I can remember. All records of his rule in Fyris were systematically removed from books, carvings and any other archive. Gurnil will have to supply information—he is the Chief Librarian, after all."
"We have little time," Berel sighed. "Tomorrow we leave and I have preparations to make, as well as vid-meetings with Melis and Father."
"Ask for books, then. I can read them to you if you wish."
"That would be wonderful," he nodded his acceptance.
*
Le-Ath Veronis
"A message from Kaldill Schaff," Renée handed the envelope to Queen Lissa.
"Why didn't he send mindspeech?" Lissa asked, examining the envelope before extending a vampiric claw and slitting it open.
"I don't know," Renée shrugged.
Lissa pulled the single note card from the envelope and stood abruptly. "I have to go," she snapped and disappeared.
Renée knew the disappearing feat was called folding space. The Queen could do it, as could several others of her acquaintance. It still unnerved her, however, whenever she witnessed it.
Shaking her head, Renée lifted the card to read. It contained three words—Marid, Poison, Revenge.
*
Shaaliveer
"Hurry," Marid shouted. "I've sent the spheres where we can find them later. We can't be caught with the evidence!"
Morid stared at the images, placed side-by-side, on Marid's comp-vid. One was a bulletin placed by the ASD, naming Marid as a suspect in the poisoning of many people. The other—that was the one that frightened Morid the most.
It was an offer of a reward—ten million Alliance credits for Marid's head, Twenty million if he were delivered alive to Vardil Cayetes.
*
Le-Ath Veronis
"Kooper, arrest Marid of Belancour. Immediately if not sooner," Lissa hissed as she stood beside his desk at ASD Headquarters. The Alliance Security Detail hadn't thought to watch Marid in a while—he'd been sinking quietly into ruin with botched spells and poor standards.
Shaaliveer had been removed many times from the lists of candidates for Reth Alliance membership because of the Belancour Clan.
"I'll have to get Shaaliveer's permission," Kooper began. Arresting a citizen of a governed, non-Alliance world required permission of the government and local support.
"I have it," Lissa tossed a comp-vid onto Kooper's desk. "They can't wait to get rid of him."
*
Wyyld II
"How do I look?" Kaldill turned before the mirror. He hadn't worn tight-fitting clothing in a very long time—he preferred loose robes, richly embroidered with spelled silks to keep their colors fresh.
"Like you work for the ASD," Lendill grumbled at his father's appearance.
"Perhaps trousers of a different color, then?" Kaldill lifted a dark-blond eyebrow at his son. With an absent wave of a hand, light-brown became black.
"I'd change the shirt, too," Lendill said. "You look good in black, Pap. You always have."
"You haven't called me Pap in at least a century," Kaldill beamed.
"Look, I know you can take care of yourself, but this bothers me. What if it turns out to be something we have no power against? We don't know who devised this mess to begin with."
"That's what I intend to find out. Daragar has agreed to go with me as backup if needed. The Larentii Council immediately gave permission when I asked for his assistance. They even offered to send more Larentii if I wanted them."
"They're worried about this, too?"
"Decidedly so." Kaldill brushed shoulder-length blond hair behind a pointed ear and shook his head at the image he presented—at Lendill's advice, he'd employed power to change the color of his shirt to black.
"I've spoken with Kooper already—he's on his way to arrest Marid of Belancour." Lendill shook his head. "That old goat may have killed more than we know."