Nightmare Kingdom: A Romance of the Future Page 15

  She touched the flower to her lips in what looked almost like a kiss, than she handed it back to him.

  “And when did we allow the customs of the Aremian Empire to run our lives.”

  He managed to coax a smile to he lips. One thing about Claire hadn’t changed; she still stood in automatic defiance of authority. “I’ll agree if you can talk Thereon into doing it.”

  “That shouldn’t be difficult.”

  “Oh, it just might be. You see not only will you be guilty of treason, so will Thereon. And he was devoted to Mathiah. They were friends from childhood.”

  Jamie considered that. “He can’t kill me for trying. I’ll go right now and talk to him. And when he agrees, I’m holding you to your word.”

  Claire laughed softly. “He’ll never agree.” Her expression sobered. “Once he knows what we plan, then Adaeze has a window on what’s going on.”

  He tried to tell himself he wasn’t worried about the damage a thirteen-year-old girl could do.

  Claire was honestly surprised when the captain agreed to perform the wedding and had little insight into what was going on in his mind as he said the words that made them married in their own minds, if not by the laws of the empire. They didn’t bother with witnesses since to involve other members of the crew would be only to put them at greater risk. The imperial parliament might forgive their running away with the princesses as a misunderstanding of their legal obligations to the former empress, but they would never let them get away with this illegal alliance she was making.

  She was torn between feelings of elation and fear that Adaeze might be peeping through the captain’s eyes at what was going on. She would prefer that her daughters find out when she could tell them herself in person.

  Maybe she would luck out and that was the way it would happen. She envisioned herself back at governor’s house on Sanctuary, sitting down with her daughters in one of the comfortable rooms and telling them that joining herself to Jamie was no insult to their father’s memory. She knew Mathiah would want her to be happy.

  Yeah, sure! And when that didn’t work, she would say, ‘I’m a grown woman and will make my own decisions just as I expect the two of you to do when you’re adults.”

  TWENTY-TWO

  After so many years of traveling with Mathiah, Aremia always looked incredibly beautiful viewed as they entered its atmosphere, more familiar to her than either the planet where she was born or the one she now called home.

  She refused to be afraid of what waited for her there. She would do what must be done to rescue Isaiah’s fair-haired daughter and give Mathiah’s mere a shot in her vanity at the same time. She had no quarrel with Michel. She felt sorry for the little emperor and glad that this was a role her own daughter would not have to play.

  It had been bad enough being married to the ruler of an empire and would undoubtedly be worse to be the mother of one. No, she and her girls would make their home on Sanctuary with Jamie and the mixed population of Earthers and Aremians more loyal to their world than to the empire in which it played such a single-minded role.

  From the viewer room, she could hear her crew at work, going through the routine of approach and docking. Though the cruiser had the ability to settle directly on to the planet’s crust, this was not acceptable on Aremia. All ships had to process through official docking, after which passengers would be shuttled to the surface.

  That was the point at which they would lose control, she and Jamie. After that their lives would depend on their wits and quick reactions and, possibly, on Adaeze’s intervention.

  She realized now that the medic who was their intermediary had approached them with no new messages since the little wedding ceremony. As time crept past, she became increasingly fearful that her daughter had witnessed that scene and withdrawn her support.

  Adaeze was only a child, after all. Claire was sure she would not deliberately add to her mother’s danger, but in a fit of pique she might not realize how vital her role as speaker could be.

  When Captain Thereon and his crew docked the cruiser and opened the doors to admit officials, Claire thought her heart would stop. Instead of the usual subservient officials or even members of the imperial guard, the ship was boarded by soldiers of the Aremian army.

  They were barely polite, addressing themselves to the ship’s captain in that silence speech she couldn’t understand. Nobody bowed or even saluted in her direction. Nobody bothered to speak out loud.

  They started to grab Jamie’s arms, but something communicated by Thereon stopped them and they motioned to her and Jamie to go with them.

  “We are to remain on board,” the captain told her. She didn’t have to be a telepath to realize he was worried. He didn’t like having the empress who had been left in his charge by her dying husband escorted away from him.

  But he had no choice. The imperial guard was in bad odor, having defended her and the princesses against the dowager empress’s force. Worse than that they had abetted her escape.

  She could only pray that her loyal crew would not be harmed and felt grateful that at least she and Jamie were not being immediately separated.

  They were shuttled swiftly to the ground terminal and led through its long halls to step out on the ceremonial balcony where distinguished visitors were normally presented to an eager public.

  The soldiers dropped back and she motioned with one hand that Jamie should allow her precedence. The first thing she saw was her mother-in-law, flanked by parliamentary leaders she recognized from over the years. What really captured her gaze, however, was what lay behind and below them.

  The citizens of Aremia crowded on the street to receive her did not, of course, shout or scream. They were silent, their conversation undoubtedly flowing at a level beyond her perceptions. But the crowd was huge and, in their usual expression of approval, they stood with their hands waving in the air.

  It was the equivalent of cheering crowds on Earth. Pleased in spite of her fears that she should receive this kind of welcome when she’d expected the silent immobility of disapproval, Claire still feel a shiver of fear run down her body. Mere would not like this; she wouldn’t like it one bit.

  Over the years Mere had been compelled by her son’s choice of a wife to become adept at vocal speech. Now she greeted Claire and maybe Claire only imagined she gritted her teeth as she said, “Welcome home, Claire. We are so disappointed ,however, that the princesses haven’t accompanied you.”

  “They wanted to come,” Claire said with some honesty, not going on to explain that they’d hoped to kick butt on Aremia and in the royal palace.

  “So Adaeze explained. She said you feared for their safety during the journey and thought it best that you represent them. How brave of you, Claire.”

  Mellisande turned slightly toward the crowd. “We welcome the wife of our beloved son, Mathiah.”

  Hands waved and Claire was reminded that there was no such term as ‘widow’ for the wife of a deceased emperor. She remained his wife for the rest of her life. Well, she could at least comfort herself that though Adaeze might not be speaking to her, she had still played her part with her grandmother to pave their way.

  Jamie felt invisible. Everybody seemed to be pretending he wasn’t there. That was all right with him as he needed time to analyze the situation. He didn’t know why all those people were waving their arms in the air, didn’t understand the so courteous and yet intense byplay between the two empresses. He’d only seen Mathiah’s mother once before under really bad circumstances, but she was no less terrifying to him now than she had been when he was a kid.

  Tall and nearly hairless, she was still incredibly beautiful in a totally alien way. Isaiah had always claimed that the Aremians were only distant cousins of the Earthers, having left home at a date that happened long before the development of the current culture.

  He’d said there probably wasn’t even the trace left in hidden jungles or bare deserts of the advanced society that had departed Earth so l
ong ago, but that if they were not related, then their blood would not have been so valuable to the Gare.

  Now he felt only the alien quality. It seemed as though he had nothing in common with this intimidating empress, nor with the silent people in the street who watched Claire was such hungry intensity.

  He wished he understood what was going on.

  Then everybody was looking at him. “I understand you have brought a gift for the emperor,” Claire’s mother-in-law was saying. He almost grinned to remember that she was no longer so related now that he and Claire were married. The only mother-in-law Claire had was a woman back on Earth who had abandoned her children to her husband’s parents. Most likely, given her lifestyle, his mother wasn’t still alive.

  Claire wouldn’t have to worry about having his parents over to Sunday dinner.

  “Though hopefully it will be many years before his imperial highness has need for such a one as this.”

  When Claire didn’t respond, Lady Mellisande went on, “My granddaughter tells me this man is sent as a possible catere to Lord Michel.”

  Claire nodded only slightly. “A peace gift showing our concern to the emperor as he grows into his powers.”

  He could tell that it wasn’t easy for her to say those words offering him up like a sacrificial beast. He wished he could tell her how proud he was of her. She was beautiful and so poised. You would never guess that she was frightened for them both.

  After that, they were led to one of the open float cars that Claire had told him were customarily used in public presentations like this. Claire was seated in the back with Empress Mellisande while he was up front with the parliamentary minister.

  The parliament, she’d coached him ahead of time, was only for show. The nightmare kingdom of the Aremian Empire did not divide power among the many. The emperor was an absolute ruler.

  Nobody said anything, but he was used to that after many visits to Terrainaine and had learned to keep his composure even when those around him sat in deep silence. Mellisande nodded politely to the crowd, but Claire sent her warm smiles to them until he wondered if her mouth didn’t ache.

  The people waved their arms high in the air as they moved past, but he didn’t know who the raves were intended for, whether it was Mellisande or Claire they cheered. One thing he was sure of was that it wasn’t him.

  He supposed there was some sort of protection around them, but it wasn’t anything he could see. He doubted that the dowager empress would risk her precious hide otherwise.

  Even though he’d often heard the imperial city described, what he was seeing around him was still something of a surprise. The people of Aremia lived in cube-like dwellings that looked something like beehives made out of stone. The Palace de Gare, looming in front of them, was made of the same stone, but was a huge Gothic affair with arches, columns and even sculptured distorted faces that looked at least a thousand years old.

  The polished modern city of Terrainaine resembled this place no more than it looked like gracefully designed New London.

  At the principal entrance to the palace, they were escorted in through a double line of gussied up military, Jamie trailing after the two women who received, but did not return salutes as they passed by.

  Then they stepped within the high walls to a cool, dark interior and Mellisande’s pleasant expression faded. “How dare you come here without my granddaughters?” she demanded of Claire.

  Quickly he moved to Claire’s side, ready to defend her with his life.

  The three of them were alone. Even the government official had either been left outside or hurriedly ushered away. Mellisande didn’t seem to desire an audience for this confrontation.

  “Did you think I would care to bring either of my daughters within your reach?” Claire answered mockingly and he inched closer to her.

  “Your insinuations are insulting,” the Lady Mellisande answered, coldly angry. “I always have the best interests of my granddaughters in mind.”

  “Of course,” Claire retorted. “Because you consider them valuable political tools. But since Adaeze has turned out to have far speaker talents, I wouldn’t allow her to step foot back on this planet. Your superstitious people would kill her in a New York minute.”

  It was evidence, Jamie thought, of the study the Gare leaders made of their victims’ home world and its speech patterns that the phrase didn’t even make Mellisande pause. She knew what a New York minute was. She probably would recognize such terms as ‘groovy’ and ‘flower child,’ archaic though they were. The catere were vitally important to the Gare leadership and their surviving. It was as though back in the Victorian age and the time that followed on Earth someone had discovered a cure for hemophilia, the bleeding disease that plagued the queen’s royal descendants. Whole kingdoms might have survived if that had happened.

  The Gare had discovered an antidote for the disease that afflicted their princes and they weren’t about to let go of the victims who were the only known means of treatment.

  “But don’t you see,” he couldn’t help saying. “Your granddaughter is the perfect answer to your problems. There is at least a possibility that a girl can inherit the gift without the illness.”

  “Jamie!” Claire reproved in a shocked exclamation.

  It was as if only the two of them stood there. “I suspect she’s figured that out for herself,” he said.

  “Certainly,” the Lady Mellisande inserted her powerful presence back into the conversation. “But unfortunately my people, as the Lady Claire pointed out, are superstitious about such things because of some occurrences in the past. Besides, we don’t know yet whether Adaeze will develop the negative symptoms or not. Only time will tell.”

  She turned away from Jamie as though he didn’t matter and spoke directly to Claire. “In the meantime, we will do what we can with little Michel and you will see to it that your daughter comes to Aremia. I’m sure she will do what she can to see that her mother continues to be alive and well.”

  TWENTY-THREE

  Only too recently Claire had been confined to the rooms where Mellisande now led them. When they stopped behind the double doors in an obscure and little known wing of the palace, she knew what she would find on entering.

  She tried to control an involuntary shudder of fear and revulsion as she stepped into a large, open room with a chill smell of medicine in the air. White clad medics of both sexes worked over the patient lying flat on a padded table, while others attended to another in similar circumstances. See through tubes connected to the two in an arch that led from one to the other.

  The small boy on the principal table seemed unconscious, but the slender, pale-haired girl on the other moaned aloud in pain, her eyes closed as though to block out the scene around her.

  Abruptly Claire was transported to the past when Mathiah’s ill-fated brother Darin had lain dying on a similar table while his beloved catere Sara Louise was sacrificed at his side. Briefly she mourned that loss of bright youth and then, even more terribly, it was that time not so long ago when she and Mathiah lay in agony on twin tables. She had walked away from her table, but not until she’d witnessed the death of her husband.

  She reeled on her feet, nearly falling, and feeling sick to the point of vomiting, but then she heard Jamie’s voice and was brought back to now.

  “Alice, Alice baby,” her new husband murmured, placing his hand on the girl’s shoulder. She opened her eyes, twin pools of misery that brightened at the sight of a familiar face.

  “Uncle Jamie,” she whispered. “You’ve come for me.”

  “You bet,” he comforted her. “We’ll have you right out of here.”

  “Is Dad here?”

  “No, he wanted to come, but I told him he’d only get in the way, so he had to stay home and take care of business while I came to rescue you.”

  The Lady Mellisande emitted a brittle laugh. “How you deceive the girl! Poor child, this man is much a prisoner as you, though he may give you some relief from
your sufferings. We certainly want to keep you both alive at least until we can bring back replacements.”

  Alice looked from her to Jamie. He patted her poor tortured hand with the wires and tubes stuck in it. “It’ll be all right, Alice,” he said.

  She gave a little sigh as though of relief and closed her eyes, sinking into either sleep her death. Claire thought with pity that she hoped it was the release of death.

  Frozen with fear, she searched her mind for a way out of this situation even as she watched a still breathing Alice moved away and a new table brought in. Jamie struggled, sending several burly attendants to the floor before he was subdued, placed on the new table and efficiently strapped down. “Get out of here,” he ordered her as they began to pierce his limbs with tubes that would carry burning toxins into his body to mix with his blood.

  She didn’t have to imagine how painful this would be. She could remember well enough. It hurt so much that you longed to die, your only fear finally becoming that you would survive to go on hurting hour after hour when you felt as though you couldn’t endure another minute.

  She was helplessly considering the possibilities when Mellisande, who was watching the scene with obvious pleasure, suddenly reacted as though something had jolted her long, elegant form. She seemed almost to leap into the air; then she fell to the floor.

  She was immediately surrounded by medics and Claire, staring in grim delight, was quite sure that a considerable conversation was going on among the medical professionals. No doubt they were in fear as to what would happen to them if the regent suddenly died in the middle of a hospital room.

  The young emperor began to stir, almost as though he recognized his regent’s weakness. He didn’t whimper and moan as had Alice, but gave out a shrill scream. “Help me!” he called.

  Jamie who seemed to be a sucker for a child, turned his head the slight inch he could manage and whispered, “It’ll be all right, son.”

  Of course Michel who had rarely heard spoken words in his life other than on the rare occasions he’d been in the company of Mathiah and Claire was even more alarmed. He looked wildly from side to side and screamed again.