Bringing Stella Home (39 page)

While he was torn in indecision, an
image of the Hameji officer from the firefight came to his mind—the
one with the razor-thin beard and red epaulets.

The man who had killed his
brother.

James’s heart surged, and strength
returned to his legs. He took in a deep breath and stepped forward,
leveling his gun at the target. In his mind’s eye, the black
silhouette was no longer faceless—it was his brother’s
killer.

The semi-automatic pistol fired in
rapid succession—one, two, three, four, five. Shells clattered to
the floor, while James’s hands kept the weapon steady. Ten seconds
was all it took to unload every bullet in the magazine.

When he was finished, James lowered
his gun and peered at the target as it swayed in the air. Two
bullet holes lay on the periphery, five on the inner circle. Two
bullseyes, right in the center of the chest.

I can do better than
that,
he told himself. Feeling much more
confident, he punched the keypad to his right. The target swung
away, and a new one replaced it at the end of the range.

James reloaded his pistol and sighted
the new target. This time, he aimed for the head.

For Ben, you son of a
bitch.

Chapter 20

“
Nice place, honey,” said
Tamu, glancing around the front room of Sholpan’s new apartment.
“It still needs a little sprucing up, but you’ve done well with
what you have.”

“
Thanks,” said Sholpan,
smiling.

“
You really should get a
good carpet though, dear,” Tamu continued, sitting sideways with
her feet underneath her. “Even with slippers, that hard ceramic
floor is going to get to you.”

“
I’ll bring it up with
Qasar next time I—”

“
Oh, don’t bother. I’ve got
just the thing.”

“
Are you sure?”

Tamu touched Sholpan’s arm and smiled.
“Darling, of course I’m sure. Just let me take care of
it.”

Sholpan nodded. “Well, if you
insist.”

“
I do.”

Tamu paused and took another sip of
her coffee; Sholpan did likewise. It was a delicious blend, made
with authentic beans from one of Qasar’s raids in the New Pleiades.
He made sure his wives had an ample supply, though Sholpan couldn’t
help but wonder about the merchanters he had killed to get
it.

“
So,” said Tamu, setting
her cup on the floor for lack of a table, “have you met the other
wives?”

“
Not yet,” said Sholpan,
“but Lady Zeline invited me to meet with her tomorrow. I’m looking
forward to it.”

Tamu raised an eyebrow. “Lady
Zeline?”

“
Yes. Why?”

“
Honey, Zeline is Qasar’s
fourth wife—the youngest, next to you. Borta’s son has more clout
with Qasar than she does.”

“
So? Why should that
matter?”

Tamu leaned forward and put her hand
on Sholpan’s shoulder. “Because, darling, it means that the older
wives are treating you with contempt. Goodness, it’s been nearly a
week, and they haven’t so much as acknowledged you.”

Sholpan frowned. “They
haven’t?”

“
You tell me, dear.
Frankly, I think they’re scared.”

“
Scared? Why would they be
scared?”

Tamu threw back her head and laughed.
“Why? Only because your servant killed the last head wife. That
makes you a force to be reckoned with.”

“
But I had nothing to do
with her death!” said Sholpan, her cheeks reddening. “Don’t you
believe me?”

“
Oh I believe you, dear,
but don’t try to say you haven’t benefited from it. The way they
see it, you’re one of the most dangerous women on this
ship.”

Sholpan swallowed. “What am I supposed
to do?” she asked. “Is everyone waiting to stab me on the
back?”

“
Of course they are, honey.
Qasar doesn’t marry fools.”

“
But I’m not a threat!” she
shouted. “I don’t want to be their enemy—I just want to get
along.”

Tamu clucked and shook her head. “I’m
afraid that’s not possible, darling.”

“
Why not?”

“
Because if you show any
sign of weakness now, the other wives are going to eat you alive.
Don’t expect to make any friends or allies—not until you earn their
respect.”

“
Then what do I
do?”

“
Show them you can’t be
pushed around,” said Tamu, lying down against the contours of the
couch. “Don’t let them see your feelings. Put on a stern face when
you’re in front of them. But be subtle about it—subtle is more
dangerous.”

Sholpan frowned. “But how am I
supposed to make friends that way? How does that make
peace?”

Tamu sighed. “I’m sorry, dear. There’s
no peace in this game.”

* * * * *

The next day, Sholpan stood
in the hallway outside Lady Zeline’s apartment, hesitating in front
of the door.
Tamu is wrong,
she told herself.
I can
do this.
Still, now that the time had come
to meet the woman, she wasn’t nearly so sure.

Without warning, the door hissed open,
making her jump. She glanced up and found herself face to face with
a young woman.

“
Lady Zeline?” Sholpan
stammered, completely caught off guard.

The woman eyed her. She was tall and
olive-skinned, with long black hair that stretched almost to her
waist. Her face was clear of wrinkles, and she had a slim,
attractive hourglass figure. Although she stood about half a head
taller than Sholpan, she could not have been more than five years
older.

“
You must be Sholpan,” she
said. “Please come in.”

With her legs still a little stiff,
Sholpan stepped inside.

Zeline’s apartment was much more
attractive than her own. The walls were trimmed in white and blue
tile, and a beautiful arabesque rug covered the hard ceramic floor.
An inner door led to a short hallway, with several more rooms
beyond. Off to the side, a small hydroponics unit sent creeper
vines cascading down the wall. Grapes hung from a few of the vines,
still green.

“
Please, make yourself
comfortable,” said Zeline, motioning to a large couch in the
center. “Would you like some juice?”

“
Um, yes, thank you,” said
Sholpan, taking a seat. Zeline sat in a chair facing
her.

“
Jahan!”

A small boy peeked out from the inner
doorway. Zeline smiled and reached out a hand to him. He hesitated
a moment before running to her side and hiding his face behind her
hand.

“
Jahan, get some juice for
our guest.”

The boy squinted at Sholpan, who
smiled and waved. His cheeks flushed red, but he gave her an
adorable smile before scampering away.

“
That is my son,” said
Zeline, once he was gone.

“
He’s very handsome,” said
Sholpan. “What was his name? Ja—Jo—”

“
Jahan. I named him after
my grand uncle.”

“
I see,” said Sholpan. “Is
he—I mean, is Qasar the father?”

Zeline gave her a puzzled look. “Of
course. Qasar is our husband, isn’t he?”

Sholpan’s stomach dropped. “Ah, yes,”
she said, her cheeks turning deep red. “That’s right. I
forgot.”

Zeline laughed. “You’ve never been a
fourth wife, I take it?”

“
No,” said Sholpan, trying
to hide her discomfort. “In fact, I’m not used to being a wife at
all.”

“
I see. You seem so young,
I would hardly think otherwise.”

Zeline is the opposite of
Lady Borta in almost every way,
Sholpan
thought to herself.
I might have a chance
to make friends with this woman.

Jahan came out again, carefully
carrying a tray which was almost as big as he was. On the tray sat
two small glasses full of white, syrupy juice.

“
Thank you,” said Zeline,
smiling as she took the tray from her son’s unsteady hands. Jahan
gave one momentary glance at Sholpan before scampering
off.

“
He’s a little shy,” said
Zeline, offering the tray. “But he’s very
well-mannered.”

“
He certainly is,” said
Sholpan, taking one of the drinks. The juice was strong, sweet, and
very thick. Zeline took one for herself as Sholpan set her glass
down on the table.

“
How old is he?” Sholpan
asked. “He looks so young. Is he your only child?”

She only meant to start a friendly
conversation. Instead, Zeline’s lips tightened, and the expression
on her face grew cold.

“
Why are you so interested
in my children?” she asked. From her tone of voice, it was clear
that Sholpan had crossed a line.

“
I—I just wanted to know,”
Sholpan answered. “Jahan is so adorable, I thought—”

“
I have borne Qasar three
children,” said Zeline. “Jahan is my oldest, and if he’s half the
man his father is, he’ll be commanding his first ship before your
firstborn learns to speak.”

Sholpan frowned in confusion. “That’s
wonderful,” she said. “You must be very proud of him.”

“
Indeed.”

An awkward silence fell upon them.
Sholpan shifted uneasily where she sat.

“
How old was Qasar when he
commanded his first ship?”

“
Barely twelve standard
years, by your time,” said Zeline. “That was when he was betrothed
to Borta. His first ship was too small for him to raise a family,
so he organized a war party and spoiled the planetborn between
Tsakari and Urunghai.”

Sholpan blinked. “Too small for him to
raise a family?”

“
Yes—it was barely more
than a gunboat. His father gave it to him to win an honorable name
for himself.”

“
When he was
twelve?”

“
Why not? His father was
eleven when he won his first battle. Many of the Generals weren’t
much older than that when the Uniting took place.”

Sholpan was stunned.
Qasar was younger than me when he led his first
raid,
she thought to herself.

“
Is that when he captured
the
Lion of Tenguri?
”

“
No. He won this ship in
his second raid, while Borta was pregnant with their firstborn.
That was nearly fifteen years ago, as you count them.”

Fifteen years—Sholpan was barely a
toddler at that time. She was still wearing diapers, and her future
husband was already terrorizing the starlanes.

“
When did Qasar take his
second wife?” she asked.

Zeline raised an eyebrow. “After
Borta? Not long, but his second and third marriages were both
political. Neither of them gave him sons, however, so after he’d
built a sizable fleet, he sent them back.”

“
Sent them
back?”

“
Yes,” said Zeline. “Sent
them back to their fathers’ ships. It sparked a war with one of the
families—a war which Qasar won.”

Sholpan swallowed.
Didn’t bear sons,
she
thought nervously to herself. The thought made her rub her stomach
and wonder with some apprehension whether she carried a son yet in
her own belly. She didn’t know which would be worse—to bear
children so soon or not.

“
How many sons does Qasar
have?” she asked.

“
Alive? About ten. Borta
herself bore him seven, but most of them are dead.”

Sholpan’s eyes widened. “How did they
die?”

“
In battle.”

“
All of them?”

“
All of them.”

“
That’s—that’s
terrible.”

“
Better to die honorably in
battle than to be murdered on one’s own ship,” said Zeline. She
gave Sholpan a meaningful look.

Sholpan’s hands began to shake. “If
you’re talking about Borta’s death,” she said, “I had nothing to do
with that.”

“
Perhaps,” said Zeline,
“but Gazan doesn’t think so.”

“
Gazan?”

“
Yes, Borta’s firstborn.
Don’t you know of him?”

I do now.

“
Her firstborn? Why doesn’t
he have his own ship yet?”

“
Because he hasn’t yet
taken a wife. Besides, the
Lion of
Tenguri
is more than ample enough for all
of Qasar’s family.”

Not when some of them are
trying to kill each other,
Sholpan wanted
to say. Instead, she only nodded.

“
So Gazan blames me for his
mother’s death?”

“
Of course. Whom else would
he blame?”

Sholpan didn’t know how to answer
that. She had to admit that from Gazan’s point of view, her
innocence was questionable.

“
What do you
believe?”

Zeline shrugged. “We’re content to
believe what Qasar wants us to believe.” She turned and took a sip
of her juice.