The Blood Empress (16 page)

"Neither did I. When I left my father's Kastra I was acting on my own instincts. When I joined forces with the Benzotii Resistance I learned of their prophecy and I thought I was the one to lead them back to their home world. But I was not aware then that they were looking for a female.

"It was Testor who took me aside and read the prophecy to me. He is a believer. He knew the others would not follow me, no matter how involved I was. No matter that I was the son of a Kastra leader. He told me that one day a female leader would appear and then the prophecy would come true. I thought he was mad. I figured I would never live to see that day.

"When I found you and her in the desert, that is when I became a believer."

Verrad could see it in the man's eyes. He was completely taken over by the prophesy. He was living it now.

"We'd better find the Empress then," he said.

Both men reloaded their rifles and headed for the rendezvous point.

***

Lord Kevern's defenses were completely overrun. He and his most loyal officers were on the run, trying to fall back to the city center. His shuttle was there waiting to take him away if needed. Despite the severe winds of the storm, he was confident they could make it.

A nearby explosion knocked him off his feet to the ground.

"Get to the shuttle. Have them make ready for departure," he hollered to his second officer who scrambled to his feet and began sprinting down the alley.

Kevern pulled himself up and tried to load his sidearm. It was jammed by all the sand blowing down the alley like a relentless flood of water. He tossed the weapon and tried to keep up with his second.

He never expected to be abandoning his own capital city. It was embarrassing and a bitter pill to swallow. That damn Soothsayer had been correct, the Benzotii Resistance used the power of the planet's weather to push him out of his own house. His own son was somewhere in the city, leading them onward. That was even harder to swallow than losing his planet.

Kevern broke into the main hangar and was surprised at how damaged it was. Large rafters were collapsing all around, some of them on top of his shuttle. A handful of loyalist crew were doing their best to get the shuttle ready for departure but it was clear that they were running out of time.

Two figures emerged across the bay, shooting at the crewmen. Kevern drew his falchion and walked towards them. Both were dressed in Benzotii robes and breathers, each had their masks removed. He did not recognize the taller man, but the stocky one was Tarse, his son.

Lord Kevern stopped within range of the shuttle's ramp. He faced his son who had stopped firing and lowered his rifle. The two men stared across the bay at one another for a long moment. Tarse handed his weapon to his partner and pulled his falchion from off his back. The other man, whoever it was, left the shuttle bay. He was now alone with his son.

Tarse had grown taller and had filled out with muscle since Kevern had last seen him. It would be a fair fight. Man to man. Falchion to falchion, to the death.

***

As they neared the city center, Nykostra's head began to pound stronger and stronger. She kept pushing on her forehead and shaking her head to clear the pain, but it was to no avail. She reached into the wooden cylinder that Veasa had given her and took several pills. Swallowing them dry, she even crunched one between her molars and tasted the bitterness of the pill.

"How much longer until we reach the city center?" she asked.

Testor looked back at her with one of his heads while forging forward.

"We're nearly there. This is a part of the original city that my people built," Testor said. He looked around at the changes, shook both of his heads and said, "I don't like what they've done to the place."

Nykostra smiled weakly at the alien's humor. It was the least painful thing she had experienced from a Benzotii since landing on this world.

The corridor they were in opened up on a plaza at the city center. Nykostra followed Testor through a growing crowd of ragged and victorious Benzotii warriors. They all looked down at her with an air of indifference, clearly unaware of who she was. Testor eyed them and lead her up a narrow staircase that wound around the central column.

It ended at the base of a tower that held a statue of an alien design that she hand never seen before. Its lines were simple and bold and the surface of the metal sculpture was well polished from passing sandstorms.

Testor stood before her and shouted to the gathering throngs of Benzotii below. She didn't understand his native tongue and really wished she knew whether or not he was throwing her to the vorls.

He raised up her arm with his secondary arm and held both sets of his arms high, brandishing his rifle. His closest head looked down at her and spoke.

"You are the Storm Rider. The gods sent this storm for you and using it we have won back our world. You will forever be known as the Bezoniiune, savior of the Benzotii."

She raised her falchion high with her other hand and waved it to the crowds below. The winds of the beneet had already begun to subside and now, high above the city the dark clouds parted in a swirling eye. Lightning flashed and thunder boomed low and ominous.

Looking up, Nykostra could see the stars again. Twinkling calmly under the desert sky. It was beautiful, even as the night closed in on her and she collapsed unconscious.

Tarse's blade was strong and his muscles taut as he pounded his father's blade relentlessly. The younger man's power kept getting stronger the longer they dueled.

Lord Kevern spun and deflected the blows expertly but every time he went on the attack, his son seemed ready to deflect him. The remaining Votainion ground crewmen had gathered around the father and son to watch them fight. Nobody was lending a hand to either fighter as more debris fell from the ceiling.

Kevern's second came out of the shuttle and ordered the crewmen aboard.

"My Lord, the winds have let up, we must go now."

Kevern nodded absently while he countered his son's latest attack.

"Running away father? That's not very Votainion of you," Tarse taunted.

Kevern grimaced. "Neither is turning your back on your Kastra and leading a revolt against them. I shall not leave until you are dead."

The words seemed to fuel each man to fight harder. Kevern noticed a weakening section of the ceiling lattice and coaxed his son under it with repeated, angry swings of his blade. Tarse was unaware of the impending doom from above. He was focused solely on killing his father and nothing around him mattered.

Metal ground on metal and the sound echoed throughout the landing bay. Tarse looked up in time to see the weakening structure. He was pinned in between ground equipment as he fought. No way out but through his father.

Kevern hazarded a glance upward long enough to see that the lattice work was ready to collapse on them. In that moment Tarse lunged for his father and sank his blade into Kevern's side. Kevern pulled himself backwards off the blade as the metal structure fell.

Tarse was pinned to the floor under the weight of the lattice, several jagged pieces had impaled him across the chest and lower abdomen. Kevern watched his son's dark green eyes lose their life as he gripped his own bleeding side.

"My Lord, you're wounded," his second said, bending down to help him to his feet as more scaffolding fell around them. Pieces were hitting the top of the shuttle as Lord Kevern was dragged up the ramp. All he could do was look back at his son in disbelief.
Those cold blooded aliens had taken his only son and turned him against his own Kastra. They would pay.
This
i
s not the end.
I will
be back and when
I
return this world would suffer unimaginably.

The Kastra shuttle rose up sharply and jetted away into the clearing skies of Con-One.

***

Nykostra awoke to the face of Captain Verrad. He was looking over her prone body on the ground. He looked troubled by her obvious pain but she could not speak, her mind red with throbbing pain

Veasa appeared, her smooth voice reassuring.

"We've cleared out the natives to give you peace. Stay calm and let the medicine work its magic."

Nykostra shut her eyes and tried to relax. Images flooded her mind's eye. She was seeing the future again. But it was through a feverish mind that was racked by pain and alien madness. There were warships colliding with warships, Empire forces attacking Alliance forces and a Votainion child, confused and frightened. Was it her child? It was a boy not much younger than herself. More death and more pain. Her own pain and the pain of others.

Hours passed until she opened her eyes again. This time the room was dark and empty but for a few blankets and trays with native food. She tried to sit up and found that her head no longer pounded relentlessly, there was still a residual pain but it was manageable.

She slowly got to her feet and left the empty room. Outside she followed the lights to another room. There, sitting in a great circle were dozens of Resistance fighters having a meal. Captain Verrad was there as was Veasa and even Testor. The later noticed her entrance before anyone else. He got to his feet and bowed down on one leg before her.

"Welcome, Bezoniiune," Testor said.

The others put down their plates and got up to greet her. Captain Verrad looked more relaxed than she had ever seen him before.
Perhaps a battle was all he needed to loosen up a bit
. Veasa was her usual calm self her deep black eyes studied Nykostra for any sings of continued pain.

"How do you feel, my Empress?"

"Better. Much better," Nykostra replied.

She sat down cross legged beside Captain Verrad. He leaned over to whisper to her.

"My ship has returned and a shuttle is waiting for our departure."

Nykostra nodded as she looked around. "Where is Tarse?"

Veasa's eyes lowered and Testor looked away with both of his heads.

Verrad spoke loud enough for everyone to hear.

"We found him impaled by debris in the main hangar. When I left him he was preparing to duel with his father."

Nykostra's eyes grew large. "Why didn't you stay with him?"

"My first loyalty is to you, my Empress. He sent me to find you."

"But I was with Testor, perfectly safe! You should have stayed with Tarse!"

Her voice rose as her anger flared. Verrad's face showed his confusion. Surely she knew that his priority was her safety. Nykostra stood back up and grasped the butt of her falchion at her side. Verrad slowly got to his feet and held up his hands in an effort to placate her.

"My Empress, your safety is always going to prevail over anyone else in the empire."

Nykostra threw up her arms and screamed, "To hell with that!"

Everyone in the room stopped talking and looked in her direction. Verrad's expression turned serious as he clearly began to question her emotional state.

"My Empress, we are returning to Voton. There you will resume your duties as the leader of this empire. Frankly the fate of anyone on this world is no longer your concern. Lord Kevern's excuse for denying you his warships is over. You have stopped a war and now you will focus on taking back our home world."

Nykostra's brow furled as she stepped back. It was clear to everyone in the room that she was having a breakdown of some sort. But there was little anyone could do to stop it or to help her. Her eyes were wide and frenzied and beginning to glow red.

"Get away from me!" she screamed. Pulling her falchion she swung it around in a defensive posture.

Verrad backed off raising his hands. He looked down at Veasa who's eyes were wide with fear.

"Do something. What is wrong with her?" Verrad whispered.

"As I have feared, she has been changed by this world. Her mind is coming apart. You must get her away from here," Veasa said.

Verrad slowly approached Nykostra again. His voice measured and calm.

"My Empress, we have to leave now. Our shuttle is waiting. Put down the weapon."

Nykostra glared at him with blazing eyes. Her falchion at the ready to sever his head. Verrad ventured closer. She allowed him in, holding her falchion out steadily.

"I'm not your enemy, my Empress. Your anger is focused on the Kwizarra Lonn. It is he who has turned Tarse's father against him and it is he who wishes to destroy you. Remember?"

Nykostra's anger faltered, her eyes began to flood with tears that Verrad could have sworn would have melted under the heat of her red eyes. But they fell down her pale blue cheeks instead. Slowly she lowered her sword and her defensive stance.

Verrad ventured a look back at Veasa who encouraged him to continue. He turned back to Nykostra and spoke again in a softer, reassuring voice. “I want you to remember this feeling going forward. You have foiled the Kwizarra Lonn's plan. Now we must return home so you can lead us to Kerra-jorro."

Nykostra's mad eyes dimmed as she sheathed her falchion and lowered her head. Verrad took the opportunity to move in closer to her careful not to crowd her.

Nykostra's shoulders hunched over and she took a few more steps backwards into the earthen wall. Verrad moved with her and stopped within arm's reach in case she collapsed.

Nykostra's black hair fell in her face as she brought her hands to her cheeks to wipe them. A few sniffles could be heard as she tried to regain her composure.

Veasa got up and came to Verrad's side. She reached out tentatively to Nykostra.

"My Empress, I have saved your imperial clothes for you. Let's go and change before you and Captain Verrad depart."

Nykostra raised her head and looked up at Verrad. Her eyes were glossy black again. All traces of the fire gone from them. She looked as innocent as any normal young female.

"Inform your crew to make way for Voton. I'm going home."

Verrad nodded curtly. Nykostra looked at Veasa next.

"I wish to take these clothes with me. I want to be reminded of what happened here."

Veasa nodded in agreement.