Empress Hiding Read online

  Sitting across from his Prince, Dalis saw the light flash in Rafal’s eyes as he sniffed his palm, and, immediately, the old steward knew. Dalis had seen that look in his daughter’s eyes when she had come home late that rainy night from that performance in the old Blood-borne theatre; he had seen it in his son’s eyes when he had arrived home after being “trapped” on the public transport during that horrendous snowstorm.

  And he had seen that look in his beautiful Margreet’s eyes the night they had been accidentally assigned the same music rehearsal room so many cycles ago.

  Prince Rafal Sadid had met someone – the Prime Magistrate was actually having a meal with a special female tomorrow!

  Before Rafal could even try to find words with which to speak to Dalis, the old steward nearly launched vertically from his chair. He immediately began listing off all of the things that he would handle so that everything was in order for the packing and boarding of the shuttle on time.

  And that the Prime Magistrate should not worry because he would handle Sila’s belongings, and even though he was sure there was something he, as the Prince’s steward, needed to know in this picture somewhere, he was sure the Magistrate would share it with him later.

  Rafal just watched and listened in wonder as he resumed eating – his steward was certainly energized by the conversation they had not actually had – but that was his Dalis.

  Dalis left the room and re-entered any number of times as he contacted different personnel through the comm channels – this in-charge, Blood-borne task master was certainly a different being than the docile steward that personally served his Magistrate – the male giving those strident and leave-no-room-for-questions orders to others Rafal knew to be larger, sometimes much larger, than Dalis was impressive.

  No wonder Rafal had chosen him all those cycles ago.

  In the midst of all his bustling and organizing, Dalis suddenly stopped in front of him and bowed his respectful but hurried bow.

  “Magistrate, I spoke with Yearlan and confirmed Prince Hondo’s visit immediately upon our return,” Dalis fisted and unfisted his hand – Rafal’s cue that Dalis was lying because he had to do so, “It was the visit the two of you had discussed in your last comm before our departure.”

  Rafal paused and looked Dalis directly in the face – the monger’s nervous twitches evident around the old steward’s high cheekbones.

  There had to be something up with Hondo to request a visit without letting it be known he was the one who requested it.

  “Remind me, Dalis,” Rafal studied his steward carefully as he spoke, “Did we arrange for him to bring the family?”

  Dalis stiffly shook his head in the negative. Relief poured over Rafal as he took another drink – at least Hondo was not running from their sire this time because if he was, the “visit” would include his beloved mate and sons. The last time Hondo had run to Rafal from the Khedive had been before Hondo and Shelvana had been mated, but the times it had happened still haunted Rafal.

  “Contact Yearlan and confirm our new arrival time based on the shuttle schedule,” the Prince continued his meal, “And have Margreet ready the Prince’s quarters.”

  There were few beings Rafal trusted close to him and his brother, and, of course, Dalis’ mate was one of them.

  Rafal sighed heavily as he resumed eating – it was always something, it seemed.

  And a sly grin crept across his face as Rafal now looked forward to acquainting his Chiyoto with each and every one of those ‘somethings’ from tomorrow forward.

  His beast roared inside of him in full agreement.

  Hondo mentally ran through his final checklist again as he watched the activation of the protection field over the hangar opening. The Captain of his Red Guard and closest friend as well as his most skilled soldier, Kilgar Marid, stood by his side in silence, although Hondo could feel the animosity roll off him as the Khedive’s airborne transport lowered onto the pad.

  “You need to tamp that down, Captain, or I will be forced to separate us,” Hondo knew that would get his friend’s attention.

  Kilgar slightly shook his nappy, blonde head as an irritated growl seethed up from his beast, an over-sized demercriere.

  Hondo and Kilgar had known each other since their days as youths and had trained together at the Royal Palace. And although Kilgar’s family was not of the most desirable bloodline according to the Khedive and others in the Royal court nor was his station as fighter and soldier, Hondo would have none other by his side.

  Besides, Hondo had learned a long time ago that name and lineage and even blood color meant nothing – they were not what made a being – Rafal taught him well to look for character, honesty, heart – and to trust his own instincts in the judgment of such.

  Kilgar had fought by Hondo’s side countless times – had even saved his life once or twice. In those years he remained at the Palace after Rafal’s departure, it was Kilgar that had been his companion. Yes, theirs was a friendship built on nearly a lifetime of brotherhood.

  The malice Hondo had sensed quickly faded as Kilgar’s rough albeit sarcastic voice barely reached the prince’s sensitive ears.

  “Got it, Prince Goodwill,” Kilgar paused as he fingered his wrist readout, “Everyone is posted as requested.”

  Hondo grunted good-naturedly in response as the transport’s landing locks deployed.

  “All six particular snipers?”

  “As we discussed.”

  “How many guards with the Somdech?”

  Kilgar growled amusedly as a slight grin crept across his deeply scarred face.

  “A full eight – my second, Balstir, is with them,” the Captain paused for effect, “Not that such is necessary,” he grunted and continued, “From the looks of you this morn, I would say the Somdech is quite capable of looking after herself and the young ones.”

  Hondo’s lips twitched to fight the smile.

  “Jealous pich,” Hondo shot as he adjusted both the visible and the hidden weapons on himself, his pants suddenly a bit tighter in remembering last night.

  Kilgar laughed gruffly as the hangar’s protection field deactivated, and the large transport door hissed open to reveal the Khedive’s Guard Captain clothed in purple and multiple weapons.

  “But not covetous, you scamp,” Kilgar checked his blades and his laser weapons as he took a last look at his wrist comm before moving forward toward the transport just a step or so in front of his Prince, “I would keep my celibacy in tact, thank you.”

  His captain said the words with such conviction and with such a truthful and wistful look on that face that it was all Hondo could do to keep from doubling over with laughter at the complete lie that they were – the two braids on his Captain’s brow-line made it clear he had been laid by two of the compound’s finest fahises. Hondo would be fighting that laughter for the next few moments as he greeted his despised sire.

  And Kilgar surely knew it.

  “Thank you, birader,” Hondo said under his breath as the departure ramp met with the surface – the Khedive’s figure still in shadow at the top.

  “Your servant, Denka,” Kilgar paused and put his left arm out to signal to Hondo that they were close enough until he had more confirmation from his posts, “Always.”

  The Red Captain did not trust this Khedive even in the slightest.

  Especially near his best friend and Prince.

  As usual for their outings, Yearlan corralled the young princes while Shelvana took a casual walk alone through the area. At least Yearlan was quite sure that was how her stroll appeared to the eight guards that had accompanied them and had begun taking up their posts around the area in which the twins loved to play.

  But he suspected at least one or two of the guards – especially that young and cunning (and alluringly-scented!) Unisha, the latest recruit to arrive from Barrens – knew the truth b
y now: the Somdech was getting a complete sensory map of the area and the surrounding landscape for herself – Prince Hondo’s mate was extremely protective of their young sons.

  And she was an extremely effective protector.

  Without any use of technology or weaponry.

  Shelvana stopped at the water’s edge and lifted her head skyward just before turning back to face the three of them. Yearlan saw her take a deep breath as her eyes faded from that bright, glowing azure back down to their peaceful, everyday cerulean just before she squatted down and opened her arms wide for her sons to come to her.

  Erol and Matin watched Shelvana with their usual intensity – Erol a miniature version of Hondo with the same black hair and black eyes while Matin was nearly an exact duplicate of Erol except with sandy blonde hair and his mother’s cutting blue eyes. They were both very observant and highly intelligent – it was obvious in all of their actions and reactions since their birth. Yearlan had joked that they were like a couple of sponges in that they soaked up everything around them and took it as a challenge if there was something they did not fully understand. Such cunning had already led to many sleepless hurs for their parents, and the handwriting was on the wall that there were many more such hurs in the future.

  For everyone in the Prince’s household.

  But when Shelvana opened those arms, they became just like any other four-cycle youths and barreled headlong toward their loving mamè.

  Not only did Shelvana catch them both without falling, but she scooped them up simultaneously and spun them around as if they weighed next to nothing.

  Yearlan wondered just how many of their accompanying eight guards actually realized the strength such a feat took to accomplish – how much just one of those stocky young males truly weighed on his own.

  But the steward just shook his head and smiled lovingly at the three of them – it did not matter if others realized it or not. What mattered was that these young males were loved and protected by both their sire and their mamè beyond the meaning of words – a love and a protectiveness that had only been in their sire’s life in the form of his brother until the Somdech had happened into Hondo’s life.

  And now Yearlan suspected Prince Hondo and his Shelvana were mated on a level that most could not even comprehend, but that most would die for if they did.

  Or kill for if they truly knew of the Somdech’s origins.

  The smiling steward took a deep breath and brushed away that final thought – the Khedive and his ilk would have to get through him first because his life and his loyalty belonged to Prince Hondo Sadid and all of whom that prince claimed as his own.

  Yearlan took the time to lay out a blanket and unpack the large pack he had carried containing their supplies for the day as he chuckled at the Somdech wrestling with her sons.

  Erol and Matin would definitely be ready for some nourishment soon.

  The map room seemed to shrink in size as Hondo, Kilgar, the Khedive, and Ferenti stood around the three-dimensional display of the lands and territories under Hondo’s rule – any amount of time Hondo was confined with those two from the Royal Palace was too long a time. Standing near Kilgar and opposite his sire, Hondo used a red laser pointer to indicate particular places of interest on the display in answer to the Khedive’s questions – all the while trying to discern a pattern or reason in his sire’s questions that would give Hondo an insight into today’s unexpected and unwelcome “inspection”.

  Because his wartrige had sensed the Khedive’s madness had progressed even further than their last face-to-face meeting, Hondo had to fight internally to keep his beast down. His sire wreaked of sickness of the mind, and the wartrige could not stand to be in close proximity to the Khedive for very long without threatening violence to end the great bear that lurked inside.

  An uncontrolled beast was a dangerous beast – one that could cause harm to innocent life – something the wartrige could not tolerate.

  Then Ferenti had become distracted – coincidental? Neither Hondo nor Kilgar believed in coincidence when it came to either of these two males – and Kilgar had strategically drifted toward Khitam’s advisor to keep a closer eye on the slippery being’s hands et al. At first, the Khedive seemed to pay attention to Kilgar’s movements, but, just as suddenly, Khitam’s questions became much more direct.

  “These far and very under-developed lands,” the nearly white-haired Khedive motioned to the mountainous and thickly-forested regions furthest from Hondo’s palace grounds, “How do you maintain control over them?”

  Hondo did not let the grin creep across his face that wanted to do so – the control of his territories was what he considered his crowning achievement and would certainly not share all of the details with a sire who had once threatened to give his lands and ruling rights to the same sniveling advisor that now kissed his sire’s ass on a regular basis.

  One that stood right here with them.

  A threat that had been quashed through Rafal’s actions – although Hondo never really learned what his brother gave up for the deal to be final – and he knew Rafal would never say until their sire was dead and buried.

  “A combination, sire, of spy networks and trade relations,” that was about all the detail Hondo was willing to give on the subject in this room, “And meticulous attention to other incidental variables.”

  Khitam’s brow furrowed.

  “But how do you control them?”

  Ferenti stopped his distractedness and raised his face toward Hondo in anticipation of the Prince’s answer.

  Hondo was not giving in on this one – it had taken him a good decade or more to make the progress they had up until now.

  “Our visual physical presence is not a requirement where loyalty among our subjects is concerned,” he felt his wartrige stir to restlessness at this direct questioning of their ruling style.

  Kilgar watched a number of muscles tick in both Hondo’s and Khitam’s faces as they stared, unblinking, through each other across the display – the Captain noting Ferenti beginning to finger his almost feminine attire with nervousness as the tension grew.

  Khitam’s eyes narrowed.

  “Then you ensure obedience through other measures such as the three marksmen you had posted along our pathway here?”

  Ferenti’s head snapped, unbelieving, toward the Khedive and then back to Hondo.

  “Marksmen!?” the sniveling advisor’s tone of voice toward Hondo nearly provoked the Captain into drawing his weapon, “You would post marksmen on your Khe….”

  But Hondo interrupted him – both the prince and Khitam continuing to stare as though Ferenti did not even exist – a feigned awe coating Hondo’s voice as one of his major fact-finding expeditions for this visit of his sire came to fruition.

  “You sensed even the third at the further distance, sire?”

  Khitam’s face relaxed although he still kept some suspicion there in his eyes.

  “Of course, my son,” a chuckle escaped from within him as Hondo did everything in his power to suppress the cringe at his sire’s address of him, “Did you mean to test your sire’s senses with such?”

  Hondo did not answer – only nodded once in the slightest as he almost childishly shrugged a shoulder – even though his gaze never left Khitam.

  But Ferenti was still incensed, or at least he continued to yell and act as such.

  “What more would you do to disresp….”

  Once again, Hondo acted as if Ferenti did not exist.

  “It was you, sire, that taught me to always test for changing restrictions in any relationship, was it not?”

  The only sound that echoed through the room was Ferenti’s blathering to himself as he continued to try to get either Hondo’s or Khitam’s attention.

  In response to a single nod of instruction from Hondo, Kilgar stepped forward and forcefully placed a hand secur
ely over Ferenti’s mouth – holding the sniveling advisor in place simply with the brute strength in his hand and forearm. Hondo rejoiced in the silence that followed even as he continued to hold his sire’s cold stare.

  Finally, Khitam waved his hand toward the Captain and his imprisoned advisor.

  “Leave us,” his words were final and left no room for rebuff, and Ferenti’s eyes almost bugged out of his head with their utterance as his whimpering increased.

  But Kilgar would not move in response to this Khedive.

  Not under his Prince’s roof.

  Not ever.

  Hondo silently sent up a prayer for that show of loyalty in front of this mad ruler – his Kilgar served him and him alone.

  Hondo nodded, “Yes, Captain,” the appreciation clearly in his words to Kilgar even though he continued to stare at Khitam, “Escort the panicked shentalingra to a calming pen, please.”

  An evil grin crept across Kilgar’s face – okay, maybe it was actually one of amusement, but those penetrating scars that defined the Captain’s face tended to make most of his grins look just this side of godsfallen – as he proceeded to drag Ferenti from the room by his face.

  “As you command, my Prince,” Kilgar’s eyes shot from Hondo to Khitam and back again as he almost undetectably nodded his head in a bow to Hondo, “I will be right outside.”

  And he shut the door securely behind him.

  Kilgar unceremoniously shoved Ferenti across the hallway into the wall as he turned to the two guards on post at the door.

  “Take him outside and do not let him out of your sight,” Kilgar adamantly ordered the two, “If he has to relieve himself, make sure you watch him hold himself and put it back – privacy is a luxury he is not to be afforded even in the slightest.”

  The shentalingra’s shrill screechlike-hiss emanated from the male as each Red Guard took him by an elbow and proceeded down the hallway toward the exit.

  “You will pay for this, Captain Marid,” Ferenti’s words were hissed more than shouted over his shoulder as he was pulled along by the two guards, “I will see to it myself!”