The Temple of Rebirth was bathed in the warm glow of a hundred torches that were spread all along the walls, but did not manage to permeate the cloud of shadows that hid the ceiling high above. An hour ago the evening service had ended, a stark ceremony that always impressed him with its simplicity and the sense of community it sparked among the believers. Not surprisingly it had included a common prayer spoken for the royal family in their plight. Perhaps a hundred people had attended, yet afterward Mahel Sivaraya had been held back from leaving the temple, his name spoken by the Cor'dan's calm, dark voice, calling him back.
Now, half an hour later, Mahel was lying face-down on the cool grey flagtiles, not daring to look up at the human towering over him. Hugging his body tightly to the cold stone, he felt elated, insanely glorious to have been chosen for this mission. Imagine! He was trembling ever so slightly, filled with apprehension and a desire to prove his worth in battle. He had been waiting for a long time for this. A long time. Now all of his dreams seemed to be coming true.
Then the Cor'dan spoke: "Your guardian spirit was chosen well, Mahel Sivaraya, and you have proven your bravery time and again. Now I deem you the princess' protector, for the time being. You will be introduced to her through the Empress' Royal Guard. But my hand must remain hidden in this."
"Yes, Cor'dan, of course," Mahel breathed, feeling odd, an image of the lovely princess' face spinning before his mind's eye.
When Naas Deron had first approached him a year ago, Mahel had been the first Yuuzhan Vong among the community worshipping at the Temple of Rebirth, defying his people's tradition and willingly risking his elders' wrath. He had also been the first of his kind to be reborn after the Naming Rite, a practise readopted with Luzaya Dan's own naming fifteen years ago. In a way she was the symbol for a past long gone that had been reclaimed, and his idol too. It was not a secret that the princess held a special place with the Cor'dan, that she was apprentice and lover to him. But the Cor'dan also had other agents, secret ones, and Mahel was one of them. Briefly he considered that the princess would know nevertheless who she had her bodyguard to thank for. She had seen Mahel in the temple often enough, after all. But Mahel did not go further than that, did not ponder the implications this discovery might entail. He was too excited to think straight.
"Excellent," Naas Deron answered at last. "The Empress will receive you. She is already waiting. So do not dawdle, young Mahel. Time is on our enemies' side. For now."
Hurriedly, Mahel scrambled to his feet and bowed toward the Cor'dan once more before he excused himself. Outside the temple night had fallen fully, and he quickened his pace as he walked along the Royal Promenade toward the Citadel. Soldiers were prowling the promenade, not surprisingly, and there were even more in front of the citadel's portal. The young Yuuzhan Vong presented himself weaponless, and inclined his head in greeting as he confronted the guards standing watch in front of the double doors.
"I am Mahel Sivaraya. Her Esteemed Highness Empress Yana Dar is expecting me."
Masked faces gazed at him impassively, and when none of the soldiers stirred, Mahel felt slightly nervous. But then one of the doors opened and a round human woman beckoned for him to come in.
"I am Myryane Eastwinder, the majordomo. Follow me, quietly, and don't dare run off. The boys here will keep an eye on you," she added and gestured at the row of guards that lined the hallway as far as Mahel could see. "Now, Mahel, let us go and meet the Empress for your audience."
Suitably impressed, Mahel trailed after the majordomo gawking in awe. But he still held himself erect, remembering his warrior training and pride even at a moment like this. Yet he feared that his courage would desert him once he was alone with Yana Dar, the Empress. What would she say? Was he allowed to inquire after her consort's health? Should he wait for her to mention the Cor'dan's mission for him? All these questions, and more, tormented Mahel on his way toward the audience chamber. But foremost on his mind was Luzaya Dan.
The audience chamber's door was dark brown, almost black wood, inlaid with gold, and Myryane Eastwinder turned the heavy gold handle to allow them both to enter. Mahel tried not to breathe at all as he followed the majordomo into the chamber beyond. It was actually pretty narrow, with a high ceiling and stretching far into the distance. Windows made up the opposite wall, holo tableaus the other. And there, at the far end, stood three chairs. On one, the centermost, sat a woman, easily recognizable even at that distance. The other was occupied by a clerk or something, Mahel thought. The third, empty, was obviously reserved for him. Four red-robed Royal Guardsmen stood behind the Empress, a silent wall of menace. But Mahel's eyes were fixed in awe on the woman who had given his people a new home and future, dismissing everyone else quickly.
The majordomo gracefully started toward the Empress, and again Mahel followed, feeling even more nervous than before. Empress Yana Dar wore a long-sleeved, dark blue dress with silver embroidery decorating the cuffs, and a silver band was nestled in her hair. Three raised scars decorated her high forehead, a reminder of her conquest. She looked ethereal, otherworldly, truly a goddess. Had the situation not been so serious, Mahel would have started fidgeting with anxiety and exhiliaration.
Two meters in front of the chairs Myryane Eastwinder stopped and bowed deeply, indicating the Yuuzhan Vong standing slightly to the right and behind her. "Your Majesty, may I present to you Mahel Sivaraya," she said in a festive tone, and the Empress inclined her head gravely in acceptance.
"Thank you, Myryane. You may leave. Mahel Sivaraya, please, take a seat."
He blushed a dark purple. "Your Majesty, with permission, I would rather remain standing."
"Is that so." She smiled coolly, and that smile never touched her brilliant blue eyes. "Protocol demands it, Mahel Sivaraya." Leaning toward him conspiratively she added: "Actually, it is for security reasons. Seated you have less freedom of movement. Do you really want to affront my guardsmen?" she concluded challengingly.
"Surely not!" he exclaimed and hurriedly took his place on the vacant chair. The Empress leaned back again, apparently satisfied. Up close Mahel found that she looked gaunt, concerned. And no wonder. "Your – consort – is recovering?" he asked tentatively, unsure of whether that question was appropriate. Somehow this audience was less formal than he had anticipated.
"He is recovering, yes," she answered dispassionately. "You have been sent by Naas Deron, I know, but officially you will be assigned to act as my daughter's bodyguard by my decree." Mahel nodded mutely, enduring the Empress' inquisitive eyes on him. "Mahel Sivaraya, your name signifies a warrior's skills. Blade Wielder. Are you that good?"
"I believe so, yes."
"The Cor'dan can see the future on a naming day, I am told. I dearly hope he has seen yours correctly. I risk much by trusting his judgement. But why you? A Yuuzhan Vong. So young, too." Cocking her eyebrows meaningfully, the Empress clearly waited for him to supply her with a good reason to give her daughter's life into his care.
"I do not claim to be more than a simple warrior, Your Majesty," he almost whispered, he was so excited. "All I can promise is my committment. To the death."
"A simple warrior, is that so?" she replied with a laugh. "Very well. Then a 'simple' warrior shall guard my daughter. I dearly hope you also possess a warrior's patience. With her, you will need it."
The look in her eyes was curious, and Mahel suspected that she knew why he had been chosen, and was calculating the consequences of that choice. He wished he were that wise and knowledgeable. Suddenly she rose, and the clerk followed her example slowly, while Mahel almost leapt out of his chair in his hurry to join them. For a moment he felt horribly clumsy, when his chair toppled over and landed on the floor with a solid thud. The Empress, he saw, was barely able to suppress a smile.
"I am terribly sorry," he breathed, embarrassed.
"Do not worry," the clerk said, his cool voice sending a jolt through Mahel's body. He knew that voice! "I recall Emperor Ja'han'mandana once managed to clear the entire dinner table doing what you just did," Franzis Sarreti concluded smoothly. Having had eyes only for the Empress, Mahel had not even recognized her consort! But then, Franzis Sarreti only seldomly addressed the people himself, that was a task reserved to the supreme ruler.
Bowing hurriedly toward the slender human, Mahel blushed again. "Forgive me, Your Highness, for not having addressed you properly beforehand," he murmured.
"Oh? But you did. My wife is empress, and in truth I am little more than a clerk. One with a particularly tasking job, I admit. So you are forgiven, Mahel Sivaraya." Franzis Sarreti smiled at him out of a deadly pale face. And then Mahel understood that, as concerned father, the royal consort must have insisted on being allowed a glance at his daughter's future bodyguard too. The young Yuuzhan Vong noticed the worried look the Empress shot her husband, even though the man himself apparently did not, or ignored it.
"Thank you, Your Highness," he answered at last.
Then Yana Dar waved for him to get moving, as she started for the distant door. "You understand that this audience was an informal one. All of this is very informal, but that does not mean you are to take your duty lightly," she told him earnestly.
"Never," he declared, heart-felt, as he followed her at a respectful distance.
Turning back to face him, she waited for one of the guards to open the door. "Good," she said with a smile. "Then I wish you well on your post. And may your courage never waver. Guardsman, please escort Mahel Sivaraya to my daughter's quarters," the Empress added, her tone changing from private to official in an instant.
"Yes, Your Majesty," the faceless guard replied hurriedly, then left. Mahel gave the royal couple a last nod and followed.
Yana waited until Mahel Sivaraya was out of sight, before she started in the opposite direction, toward her private chambers that she shared with her husband. Both were shadowed by the remaining Royal Guardsmen, hand-picked by Franzis, who always insisted on doing everything himself. He hated having to delegate, especially those matters he thought most important, like his family's security. Even though Yana usually found his caring endearing, if sometimes annoying, today she disapproved openly. When Franzis stumbled suddenly and crashed onto the luckily soft carpet of the hallway, she therefore let out a nasty curse, before she dropped down at her husband's side, holding his head up to check whether he was breathing. He gazed up at her apologetically, but was unable to speak.
"Get a medic," Yana ordered one of the guardsmen. "You two, carry him into that room over there and place him on the couch," she added, waving in the direction of one of the empty sitting-rooms.
She was acutely aware of the fact that within four minutes her escort had shrunken by half. Her blue eyes flashing dangerously, she scanned their surroundings with a hawk-like stare, then followed the guardsmen into the chamber. Franzis had been laid out on the couch beneath the window, as requested, and the two guardsmen moved toward the door soundlessly to take up position there. One of them seemed to be speaking into his comm-link, judging by the way he held his helmeted head. Yana threw him a suspicious frown, then took a seat on the edge of the couch and propped another cushion underneath Franzis' head. She bent down low toward him, so her face was hidden from the guardsmen's view, and smiled lovingly.
"You must hate me for all the times you have been hurt serving me," she murmured, and pressed a kiss on his clammy forehead.
He shook his head weakly. "Don't take all the blame, love. That was my decision as much as yours. And I for one have never regretted that choice."
"Yet you never would have refused your empress' order," she teased him, and a tentative smile appeared on his lips, making her heart leap higher.
But suddenly her anger rose again and she gently slapped his shoulder. "You are as stubborn as any man I know," she growled. "Why did you have to go and accompany me? I could have dealt with Mahel Sivaraya on my own quite easily. You should be resting."
"She is my daughter as much as yours," he replied calmly, and to Yana's shame there was not the faintest trace of defiance in his tone, reminding her again that she was the impulsive one in their relationship. "I wanted to see if he is adequate," he finished slowly, his eyelids fluttering.
Yana shook her head at him. "Another word and I will have you silenced, my dear. Sleep now. We will speak about this later."
When he opened his mouth, seemingly to protest, she raised one eyebrow warningly and he subsided with a tired wink that melted her inside. She could not be angry at him, never at him. But she was furious at whoever had tried to kill him, secretly swearing to make her revenge terrible, something to remember for generations. He had been hurt so often already, always shielding her, and she would take it no more. Unfortunately the Empress was well aware of her realm's political climate. She knew exactly that most political leaders of the empire respected only strength. Thanks to Franzis she always appeared strong, invincible, otherwordly, but he was the heart of the government, and he was vulnerable. It did not bother the common people, she knew, most of them adored Franzis Sarreti as the Empress' elegant consort. But then, they had no idea what a hard and unforgiving man resided within that outer shell of genteel refinement and polite diplomacy.
Franzis never forgot his enemies. He held the strings of government firmly in his hands, consulting his advisors, but accepting modifications to his policies only from his wife and supreme ruler. She knew she could trust him fully, could rely on his insight and skill as a politician, skills she did not have to that extent. Her temper did not allow for the patience that he needed. And still, she remembered all too well the disputes that had characterized the relations between her consort and the Dark Lord. Chi'in, though a hard warrior himself, was also infused by the same ultimate wisdom of forgiveness that had defined the era of Anakin Skywalker as Cor'dan, something Franzis had never accepted to such an extent. Anakin Skywalker's reputation had been enough to cow anyone into obedience, no matter how ambitious, no matter how zealous, so he had free reign in implementing his own philosophy. And Chi'in clan Rim'kai, the brilliant battle-leader and teacher that he was, had never bothered with politics. His directive was given by the Empress alone, excempting him from the power-struggles back on Byss.
But times had changed.
Three years ago Anakin and Chi'in – both admittedly past their prime – had decided to step down from their posts, signalling the end of an era of reconstruction. Yana remembered how she had pleaded with them to stay, begging them not to leave her alone with the burden she had accepted. But her argument had defeated itself. She had accepted that burden, and she had to decide how long she wanted to continue carrying it. He hopes had been set into her daughter, with anyone else either inept or too forceful in their approach to be considered her successor. But Luzaya had decided to take another path.
Yana sat back with a frown, and caught her husband quietly gazing up at her face. His grey eyes were thoughtful, as if he were thinking the same she was. Gently she reached out to brush his scarred cheek, but was too preoccupied to smile once more. He took her hand, squeezing it with utmost tenderness, and all of a sudden Yana felt tears fall from her eyes. Force help her, everything she had fought for seemed to teeter at the edge of a great abyss. The only future she could see was a grisly scene of fighting and blood-shed. The sound of the door opening brought her head around, and she gave the medical team that entered a hard glance, before she rose to make room for them.
"I will come by later," she mouthed at Franzis, then nodded at the guardsmen. They followed her out into the hallway, where a contingent of ten more guards was standing to rigid attention. "You will stay and guard my husband," she ordered them, not waiting for an answer before she strode toward her chambers, only her two remaining original guards in tow.
Even before she had reached her threshold Myryane Eastwinder ran to meet her. "Your Highness," the plump woman panted and bobbed a curtsy. "His Excellency High Priest Elu Cha requests an immediate audience with you."
"Concerning?"
"The investigation of the assassination attempt on you husband. He offers the deception sect's services to you."
"He offers their services?" Yana mused aloud, her voice dropping into a dangerous whisper. "He is obliged to investigate!" With an imperious gesture she waved the majordomo away. "I will see him at once."
"Yes, Your Majesty:"
The Empress was pacing the length of her audience chamber impatiently, her long hair flying behind her like an angry banner, echoing her mood. When Myryane reappeared to present Elu Cha, Yana shooed the woman out again before she had said three words. Then, hands clenched into tight fists, she rounded on the High Priest.
"You dare come to me for an audience to get my permission for an investigation!" she snarled. "You should already be at work! I need not remind you of your constitutional duties, High Priest! The deception sect is responsible for gathering intelligence, for investigating crime! If you need a directive from me to act, I suggest your sect is useless!"
"Your Majesty, I – "
"On your knees!" she snapped, and held out her left hand. A mental order prompted her amphistaff to slither out from underneath the fabric of her dress' long sleeve, and it curled around her wrist apprehensively, waiting for further instruction.
Elu Cha stared at the snake-like creature with eyes wide. Obviously he had not expected this. But then he dropped to his knees obediently, and lowered his head in deference. "My life is yours, Empress. Command me. Slay me, if I have offended you."
"We shall see," the Empress replied in a low purr and slipped her left hand underneath his chin. The amphistaff curiously followed her movement and wrapped half of its length around the Yuuzhan Vong priest's neck, while its tail-end firmly held on to Yana's wrist. It was well-trained, her amphistaff, and as deadly as any other. "Tell me, Elu Cha, why should I trust the deception sect to conduct this investigation to my satisfaction? How can I be certain that it was not you who ordered this cowardly attack on my husband's life?"
"Honor, Empress," he answered stiffly.
"A rare trait, today," was her dry comment.
He looked up sharply, ignoring the warning hiss uttered by the amphistaff. "Command me, Empress, and I will prove my honor to you."
"I command you, Elu Cha," she whispered, her eyes unfocusing ever so slightly as she established contact to the yammosk on Kynda'bey. With the yammosk there was no deception possible, and only the most select beings were implanted with a transceiver that connected them to the telepath. Among them was also Elu Cha, of course, but no one could manipulate the yammosk, except for the Cor'dan. "Tell me who was behind this attack."
"I do not know," he answered, and she saw his sincere confusion, frustration and anger at the attack in the yammosk's roaring mind. He really had no clue.
Releasing him again, Yana ordered her amphistaff back into the small pocket that was hidden inside her left sleeve. Then she took a step back. "Rise," she ordered calmly, then turned away to walk toward the window. "I do not take threats against my family lightly, Excellency. And I have not forgotten your 'offer' of assistance. I do not want to hear anything like that again. All of you have a special task given to you by the constitution. I am Empress, and I am guardian of that constitution, for our people's benefit. I take my duties very seriously. You should too." Holding her head high, she gazed directly into his eyes. "Dismissed."
By that time Mahel had grown used to the gloomy hallways, but the guardsman led him up another level, into one of the citadel's towers. A ramp spiraled up to the top, instead of a turbo-lift, and that caught Mahel's attention at once. Why would anyone give up such comfort willingly? Unless there was a turbo-lift, a secret one, and this long walk was designed to hold off an enemy, make his way longer and harder, to allow oneself to prepare. Mahel smiled to himself. It seemed significant that Luzaya Dan had chosen these quarters – if she had done so herself. Testimony to a cautious nature, perhaps even insecurity. On the other hand the citadel's towers were also more vulnerable to attack, and they did overlook most of the city. Suddenly Mahel felt uncertain. Was she insecure or vain, then? Dismissing those thoughts at last he told himself that he would find out soon enough.
"Here we are," the guardsman announced suddenly and gestured toward a broad door, this one almost as elaborately carved and decorated as the one leading to the Empress' private audience chamber.
But then, as apprentice to the Cor'dan, Luzaya Dan probably needed this ceremonial design to feel comfortable. Only belatedly did Mahel remember that the Cor'dan himself owned a set of rooms that were very spartan, actually. Confused, he stumbled forward when the guardsman gave him a slight shove to get him going. The door had opened without him noticing, but his view was blocked by a heavy, dark red curtain, that hung from the ceiling down to the broad-tiled floor.
"You do not carry any weapons?" the red-robed guard murmured at his back, and Mahel almost jumped.
"I do have weapons," he replied hastily. "But I was not allowed to bring them to the audience."
"Ill-prepared and young," the other soldier said laconically. "I will have them brought up here."
"Thank you," Mahel whispered, then the door closed again, sealing him inside Luzaya Dan's quarters' ante-chamber. Slowly, reverentially, he walked around the curtain and stood for a moment, just staring. The ante-chamber consisted of an entire section of the tower, a large half-circle whose entire curve was covered by transparisteel, that offered a spectacular view over the lights of the city below. A heap of cushions and a low, intricate table were the only decoration that sat atop the large rug that had been spread over the tiles. In one corner a staircase led up to the living quarters.
"Hello?" Mahel called out, not wanting to intrude on the princess' privacy.
"Come!" a young, female voice called out from above.
Walking up the stairs, Mahel composed himself somewhat. The room upstairs was lit by candles, with chandeliers standing all along the round single wall. The room was huge, and partitioned by more curtains. Behind one he could make out a dais, and on that stood a large bed, its shape hidden behind a second, flimsier curtain.
"Over here!"
Mahel hurried toward the voice and found Luzaya Dan seated in front of a large mirror. Everything seemed large and generous in these quarters, he found. She was busy circling her full lips with a dark pencil, emphasizing them even more. Her eyelids had already been painted black, giving her pale blue eyes a piercing quality. Those eyes were directed at the mirror right then, fixed on Mahel's reflection.
"So," the princess said, placing the pencil on a table next to her, and smacked her lips once. "You are my new bodyguard?" Her hair, blond like her mother's, but growing in soft waves instead of tight curls, shone in the candle-light.
"Yes, Your Highness," Mahel said, once he had found his voice again.
"And your name?"
"Mahel Sivaraya, Your Highness."
"Good." The princess pointed at another table that stood a few meters away from where she sat and which was laden with fruit and other foodstuff, plus a decanter filled with a black liquid. "Hand me a glass of that wine, please. I know you are my bodyguard, not bodyservant, but the others have all gone to bed already."
Mahel wondered quietly why she was painting her face like that if everyone else had gone to bed already, as he wandered over to pour her a glass of black wine. His question was answered when he heard the door below open and close. Instantly, he tensed, but the princess rose from her seat, unconcerned, and took the glass out of his hand without a word, her eyes fixed on the stairs. A moment later Naas Deron appeared and gave Mahel a calculating glance, that the young warrior returned in kind. Suddenly Mahel blushed, realizing just why the princess had been putting on those paints.
"Mahel Sivaraya?" Naas Deron asked, as if he did not know him. The Yuuzhan Vong nodded mutely. "There was a guardsman who left a set of weapons downstairs. I suggest you go pick them up."
"Yes, of course," Mahel replied smoothly and bowed ever so slightly. "I shall take up position downstairs, then."
Luzaya Dan gave him an evil stare, but Naas Deron simply nodded. Relieved, Mahel made his escape.
TBC