[05] Elite: Reclamation (8 page)

New furniture was acquired, the top table where the two families would be seated being the centre piece. At a price beyond sensible consideration, an elegant table first hewn from the wood of the famous towering pines of the Leestian rainforest, then diamond turned and polished with Lavian grub wax, had been imported and assembled in the great hall of the palace, dominating the hall. It stood upon a Sotiquan redweed plush-pile carpet, woven from strands of the famous plant. Still alive, it caressed and massaged the feet of those lucky enough to walk upon it.

The palace itself was dressed with kilometres of luxurious ribbons and lavish fabrics, accompanied by acres of vivid flowers in complex and colourful arrangements, all lit by strategically placed globes of soft light. These displays seemed to be aimed at challenging the display of fireworks that had been organised to light up the sky as the evening drew on. Musicians, artists and entertainers were stationed around the palace for the happy diversion of the guests, all individually hoping that some of the patrons, clients and citizens might notice and look favourably on them.

Tala was naturally chosen as the bridesmaid, and accorded all the honour and pomp that her position required. Dressmakers, hairstylists and body conditioning experts monopolised the time of both sisters ensuring their hair, faces, decoupage and any other visible flesh was seen to be as healthy and glowing as possible. Make-up specialists from distant worlds were drafted in for mere minutes of attention. No expense was spared for Algreb’s beautiful blonde daughters.

Kahina, by comparison, had very little to do. She’d been accorded no special duty given the animosity between her and Corine, coupled with T’Clow’s disapproval. Had it been possible, Corine would have prevented her from coming at all, but that would have caused too many awkward questions to be asked and would have been considered bad form. Kahina was relegated to organising the maids and servants. This consisted of little more than keeping them moving as quickly as possible with a snap or a sharp word. Kahina rather enjoyed it.

She’d been assigned to sit at the top table with the rest of the family, but far off to one side, so that her dark hair did not detract from the regal blonde splendour of the rest of the family both on the Loren and the Rebian side. T’Clow had, so gossip suggested, had his own hair lightened in order to exactly match Corine’s. Tala had tried to convince Kahina she should ‘go blonde’ as well, Kahina’s refusal had banished her to the edge of the celebrations. To her sisters’ disappointment, she seemed unfazed by the snub.

Kahina had done her best to avoid any interactions with the rest of her family, but it was impossible to maintain such distance entirely. She had hoped to spend some time talking to Dalk, but he’d been occupied with arrangements for the incoming transports and security concerns.

Kahina received a summons from Corine’s maid Marie late in the afternoon, the day before the wedding. Dutifully she traipsed up to her sister’s bedroom and awaited her pleasure.

Corine was surrounded by her legions of health and beauty professionals. The room was entirely full of expensive equipment all with the singular purpose of transforming an attractive young woman into a stunning glorious vision of beauty. Kahina had to admit it was impressive. Corine already looked dazzling and she wasn’t even close to being ‘finished’.

Marie led her in and told her to wait at the threshold. Corine ensured Kahina waited whilst she had a series of pointless and insignificant adjustments made to her hair before finally acknowledging her presence after a few minutes.

‘Sister,’ Corine smiled. ‘How good of you to come.’

Kahina curtseyed. ‘You wanted to see me, sister?’

‘Yes indeed,’ Corine enthused. ‘A matter I’m sure has been on your mind for a while, doubtless your most important consideration in fact.’

Kahina fixed her with a quizzical look.

‘And what might that be, sister?’

Corine looked surprised, as if amazed that Kahina wasn’t aware of her thoughts. ‘Why your dress, of course. You must look the part for the wedding, no? Something appropriate for you as my revered younger sister.’

Kahina braced herself, but answered correctly. ‘I’m sure you’ve chosen with your customary taste, style and elegance, sister.’

‘Oh indeed,’ Corine said. ‘I have given the matter much thought. I have selected something that reflects your personality and standing, your dulcet tones and the close bond that has been forged between us over the years.’ Corine’s tone had a sharp and vindictive edge.

‘I look forward to seeing it,’ Kahina answered in a level tone.

‘And there’s no time like the present,’ Corine said brightly. ‘Marie, bring out Kahina’s dress for her inspection.’

Marie glanced at Kahina with a brief self-satisfied look before moving to one of the huge wardrobes that lined Corine’s bedroom. She took a moment to locate the garment and then pulled it out. Kahina heard a number of stifled sniggers of amusement as the dress came into view.

Taken in isolation it was a pleasant enough gown. It was simple and unadorned, in complete contrast to the ostentatious gowns being arranged for the honoured visitors and a world away from what Corine and Tala would be wearing. It was, however, completely at odds with current fashion. Where most modern gowns featured a plunging neckline, this was high necked; where sleeves were short and the overall length measured to the floor, this one was long in the arm and short to just below the knee. Kahina could see at a glance that it was at least one size too big.

‘Your disagreeable hair gave us the most enormous difficulty,’ Corine added, with a pained expression as if she’d spent hours agonising over the problem. ‘But in the end we found a shade that complements you to best effect.’

The dress was a pale and light shade of mauve, again, not unpleasant in itself, but it was exactly the same shade as the functional dresses worn by the maids of the house. The snub was blatant, even by Imperial standards.

Kahina absorbed this in a moment. Mindful of Dalk’s words she fixed her face in a demure smile, walked across and took the gown. Holding it against her and performing a small twirl as if to show how delighted she was with the choice.

‘Why sister, I’m overwhelmed with gratitude,’ Kahina said. ‘I will treasure it always. Is there anything else I can do for you?’

Her smile was sickly sweet.

Corine’s nose wrinkled and her lips pursed. ‘No, you’ve wasted quite enough of my time already.’

Kahina curtseyed and withdrew, ensuring that she dragged her new gown carelessly across the floor.

***

Kahina endured the surprised and haughty looks, the half-heard supercilious comments and the giggles of amusement at her attire. She played her part without complaint, curtseying and acknowledging the seemingly endless stream of guests as they arrived through the grand foyer. Many mistook her for a maid initially, which seemed to satisfy Corine greatly as Kahina was forced to acknowledge the confusion with a humiliating smile and demeaning shrug of acceptance.

Her only saving grace was that she wore one of the Loren family’s ceremonial swords buckled at her hip, a weapon of some distinction. To one particularly obnoxious gentleman, she was able to demonstrate that she could not only draw it, but she knew how to use it as well. Nobody teased her after that.

The wedding ceremony itself took place in the west wing of the palace, where a series of rooms had been opened up to form a big enough space to accommodate the guests, the Loren and Rebian family entourages. Senator Algreb and Lord Guntat performed the ritual exchange of weapons (another pair of swords) before Algreb began a long recital from the last of six impressive looking leather bound volumes that had been reverently placed on a series of baroque stands as a centre point to the ceremony. These were a series of books which every Imperial family were encouraged to own and venerate – the collective history of the Duval Dynasty. Needless to say, the copies owned by the Lorens were sumptuous, opulent and immensely valuable.

‘The strength and vitality of the Empire,’ Algreb continued in his customary monotone, ‘comes from the sweat and toil of our fathers, and their fathers and their fathers before them …’

Eventually the vows began. Corine and T’Clow were ritually and symbolically linked by the act of a deep maroon cord being bound around their wrists. Then they exchanged various lies about their undying affection and commitment to each other. It seemed strange to Kahina how a simple alignment of family interests needed to be dressed up in so much pomp and ceremony, yet it was the Imperial way in all matters of any significance.

Trumpets signalled the successful conclusion of the formalities and Kahina followed the families out down a central aisle towards the grand hall where speeches, music and the banquet were being prepared. She trailed at the rear, just in front of the maids.

They walked directly into the great hall, taking their places at the top table. Corine and T’Clow sat in the centre, facing directly back into the hall, with Algreb and T’Clow’s mother to one side, and Algreb’s wife and T’Clow’s father on the other. Tala was seated next to T’Clow’s father and surrounded by a gushing collection of T’Clow’s brothers all vying for her attention to her great delight. His sisters were seated on the other side, looking almost as bored as Kahina felt. Kahina herself was relegated to the edge of the table, in a darkened corner with the maids standing behind her. She tried her best to ignore their whispers and giggles, contenting herself with watching the amazing display of hats and outlandish fashions that paraded into the hall as the guests found their seats.

The centre of the room was reserved for the East Coast Orchestra themselves. Kahina was surprised that they didn’t seem to have already prepared their instruments, but the troupe was known for being somewhat risqué with their performances, something that endeared them to Imperial audiences, who enjoyed the unexpected.

The doors to the great hall were closed by the servants and everyone took their seats.

The conductor, his back to the assembly, stood up and turned. The musicians sat still, still having not taken their instruments out in readiness. Kahina wondered if they were going to start with a vocal rendition. She hoped so; their harmonious singing was a glorious thing to behold.

‘Senator,’ the conductor said with a deep bow.

Algreb acknowledged him with a nod.

‘Lord and Lady Rebia,’ the conductor continued, bowing once more. ‘Esteemed family, Patrons, clients, citizens and honoured guests. It is our privilege to play for you this evening …’

Kahina stifled a yawn. Her feet ached from having been standing for so long and even her face ached as a result of the false smile she’d had to wear to greet the seemingly unending stream of guests throughout the day. The conductor continued with his narration.

‘… to celebrate this auspicious event in the manner it deserves, we have put together an original work calling to mind the momentous history of the Loren family …’

‘Just play,’ Kahina muttered to herself and scowled at the conductor, as if trying to hurry him up by mental command.

‘… the impressive achievements of our glorious Senator and his family. Especially commissioned in tribute to this celebrated legacy, we call this first piece “Retribution for the original settlers of Chione”’.

There was a brief pause. Conversation, which until this point had been a faint muted buzz, now stopped abruptly. Kahina looked up in surprise.

What did he say?

The conductor raised his baton. The orchestra rose to its feet.

Somehow, instead of the finely crafted musical instruments expected, each member now bore a gun; some small, some larger, depending on the musical case from which the weapon had been drawn.

No one moved; all eyes were fixed on the orchestra.

Somebody pointed and shouted. ‘They’ve got guns!’

The conductor dropped his baton.

Deafening weapons fire crashed through the great hall. The screams of women and the cries of men rose in the turmoil. Bullets flew; shredding tapestries and smashing delicate works of art. A series of busts of the Loren’s ancestors were shattered.

Kahina reacted faster than most, at the first sound of gunfire she threw herself under the table. She could see that these people were aiming to frighten rather than kill. Clearly the attackers had a particular goal in mind. She had an unpleasant feeling she knew precisely what it was.

Abruptly the gunfire stopped.

Kahina heard a faint series of footsteps; then she heard the conductor’s voice speak out.

‘Anyone who is not a member of the Loren family, I suggest you leave now.’

There was not the faintest hint of movement from anywhere. After a pause Kahina heard a gun discharge rapidly. Screams split the air, rapidly silenced. Then the voice came again, shouting loudly.

‘Move!’

There were fresh shrieks of fear and terror punctuated by the rapid movement of people towards the main entrance to the great hall. The conductor discharged his gun a few more times to encourage them to move quicker.

From her crouched position Kahina saw T’Clow stumble to his feet. She heard Corine call out in alarm.

‘T’Clow?’

‘I’m not a member of the Loren family,’ he stammered.

Kahina peeked forward and saw the conductor turn to face him. ‘No, I suppose you’re not.’

Despite Corine’s outraged protests, T’Clow and the remainder of the Rebia family stepped away from the top table and hurriedly made their way out after the departed guests.

‘You’re all bloody cowards though,’ the conductor added. He turned and fired. The shot was not aimed to kill but only to maim. The bullet tore into T’Clow’s leg. He screamed in pain, but his family managed to pull him out of the hall as they fled.

The conductor turned back to the Loren family, now cornered by the armed musicians. He laughed at the tears coursing down Corine’s face and pouted at her.

‘You could do so much better, darling.’

‘I demand to know who you are,’ Algreb said, a tremble in his voice.