Salute the Dark

‘They’ve cleared out the last of the Wasps,’ Niamedh informed her. ‘They surrendered, I think. They’re going to be sent north with some suitably defiant message.’

‘Suitable?’ How about ‘Please don’t kill us?’ But Taki did not voice it. ‘So what now?’

‘Ceremonies,’ the other pilot said drily. ‘You know how we Solarnese are about such things. They’ll want to give you something in reward, probably. I thought I’d let you know in case you wanted to dodge it.’

‘Let them give me a new machine,’ said Taki hollowly. ‘Then let them let me go.’ Right now she wanted none of it. She was sick of it all.

* * *

The princess stood up. The crowd seated about the arena was in seven stages of panic and confusion. They did not know what was going on. Perhaps she was the only one who did.

Seda looked upon the body of her brother and, for the first time in her life, she felt sorry for him. He sat rigid in his chair, but twisted sideways, his skin bleached and on his face an expression of the most abysmal horror.

She turned to one side, and her eyes met those of General Maxin. The chief of the Rekef was shaking. As he tore his gaze from the drained features of his Emperor, he looked back at her.

He could never know the sheer depth of the plot, but he understood. He saw it was her doing, somehow.

‘Take her!’ he bellowed, above the shouts and wails and fighting of the crowd. It was the voice of a man whose agents are never far away. ‘Kill the little bitch! Now!’ His own sword was in his hand but he did not dare approach her.

The Rekef agents came instantly from the crowd, though she could not have spotted them before they made their presence clear.

‘She’s murdered the Emperor!’ Maxin yelled. ‘Put her to the sword!’

One of them said something to him, which she was sure was, ‘We’re sorry, General.’ They took his sword and held his arms, wrestling him to his knees. Maxin’s face was instantly all incandescent incomprehension, and he began bawling and yelling at them as though they had simply made some ridiculous mistake.

There was then a figure coming up beside Seda, and she recognized General Brugan. He looked shaken by what he had witnessed but he had done his work well these last tendays, by replacing or subverting the men that Maxin had put in position. Maxin had been so fixed on his more outspoken adversary, Reiner, that he had never perceived the threat.

She nodded briefly, having no sense of drama when it came to these things.

Brugan drew his dagger and stomped over towards Maxin in a businesslike way.

Maxin was the lord of the Rekef, of course. He had ten times as many agents as Brugan, all across the Empire. He had the power, and had possessed the Emperor’s favour. Right here, though, in this limited slice of that vast Empire, the men were Brugan’s and Brugan held the knife.

Have I now avenged my siblings? Seda decided that she was too honest with herself to believe that.

‘People of the Empire!’ Brugan was shouting. ‘People of the Empire!’ but the crowd was still too wild to hear him. He made a curt, angry signal, and there was a sudden explosion. One of his people, standing by one of the entrances, had shot off a nailbow or a piercer, or something with a firepowder charge. The ripples spread through the crowd, until they were quiet enough to hear the general shout.

‘Your Emperor is dead!’ Brugan bellowed at the top of his lungs. ‘He was slain by his outlander slave, and through the treachery of his closest advisor! I am General Brugan of the Rekef, and I have now slain the traitor.’

There was no applause for him. The murmuring of the crowd was frightened, at the brink of violence. They wanted to see what would happen next.

‘I therefore declare the Princess Seda, last of great Alvdan’s bloodline, to be the new Empress!’ Brugan boomed.

‘No!’ someone shouted, and then others were calling out, ‘A woman?’ in sheer outrage. Seda stood before them, knowing that if the scales tipped against her they would tear her apart. Within the chorus of defiance she heard other voices, though, shouting her name – insisting that she was the only choice. Gjegevey and her other ministers had done their work well, spreading the poison of her popularity. These here, attending the Emperor’s private games, these were the great and the good of the Empire, the rich, the powerful, senior officers and scions of good families. These were the ones who must be won over to her side.

‘Listen to me!’ Brugan was demanding. ‘Who else is there? The imperial line must be kept pure!’

They were wavering, however, and she knew that there were many who would not willingly accept her as she was. She had plans for that, if only she could survive these next few minutes. She would take a partner into her bed. She would give them a figurehead of a man to respect, while she consolidated her grip on her brother’s empire.

She listened to the riotous arguing of the crowd, while she waited for the balance to tip.

* * *