Schism: The Battle for Darracia (Book 1) (4 page)

“
And…?” the king asked, noting Staf was seething with anger.

“
And,” Staf responded, flustered, “I told you last month that we should have destroyed the eastern provinces when they first rebelled.” He punched a gloved hand into his large fist.

“
Appealed, applied, asked…” Drakko corrected. “They have used legal channels to ask for a voice.”

“
It smacks of revolution, Your Highness. Rebellion must be rooted out. We cannot let them attend. Next they’ll demand a vote.”

“
Who knows?” the king said with a laugh. “They may share our city in the clouds one day.”

“
You are soft, brother,” Staf whispered fiercely.

“
You are hard. Soft bends and is resilient; hard breaks. Hard cannot bend. Times are changing, Staf. The winds of the spirits have brought change.”

“
You speak like a Planta.” V’sair felt the heat of his uncle’s narrowed gaze. “You must root out insubordination. That has always been the Darracian way.”

“
Who knows, Staf? Perhaps your son will marry a Quyroo,” the king said with a grin, as he turned his back on his brother to join V’sair.

Chapter 5

Reminda stood in the alcove with the red
-skinned girl, appraising her. “You held your tongue.” She smiled with approval.

Tulani dipped her head and replied softly
, “I know Your Highness is well aware of how much salve she has.” She was rewarded by the queen’s musical laugh.

Reminda
saw the smile in the girl’s eyes. “You like my son?” she slyly asked.

“
Who does not admire Prince V’sair?” she answered coolly.

She was a smooth one, Reminda observed. She had seen the attraction, had watched those dark star
-shaped eyes soften when the prince entered the room.

While the girl was young, Reminda knew instinct
drove her. Of all her servants, Tulani was her favorite—strong, smart, and the granddaughter of the Quyroo priestess, Bobbien. She had yet to come into her own.

“
You know what is expected of you?” the queen asked.

Tulani licked her generous lips
. “I have an idea.”

“
I am sure you do.” Reminda grinned. “You will be rewarded.”

“
The reward is in the trust Your Majesty has given me.” She bowed her head respectfully, but Reminda saw something fierce in her eyes.

“
My precious jewel.” Reminda looked out a large window to the velvet skies. “V’sair is my precious jewel. This may be your destiny.”

The girl looked up proudly.
“I know,” she said simply.

“
You’ll do.” The queen’s cool fingers touched the girl’s forehead. Something tingled between them; an understanding was exchanged, words unnecessary. “You’ll go to your lady grandmother.” Bobbien would watch out for them and keep them safe, the queen knew.

“
I had thought of another place.”

“
Ah?” The queen tilted her elegant head.

“
He will want privacy, I think.”

“
But is it safe?”

“
I feel safe.” Tulani shrugged in typical Quyroo fashion.

“
Just so. Where?”

“
I know of a place.”

“
Stay away from the eastern provinces,” the queen told her, and glanced up to watch her husband and his brother argue. She thought to add, “And Staf Nuen.”

They walked
to the center of the room, Reminda’s eyes searching for her son. She glided away from Tulani and over to her husband, who opened his wide embrace and enfolded her in the security of his arms.

“
You have spoken to the girl?” he asked, dismissing General Swart and the others. He was done with his brother and his tiresome temper.

Without a backward glance,
Staf walked away. Reminda watched her brother-in-law’s face turn a violent shade of purple.

The king kissed her hand
and rubbed it against his face. “You give me great pleasure.”

“
No regrets for mating an outsider?” she asked, flirting with him. Though they were in a room filled with people, the entire court surrounding them, they felt as if they were alone.

“
Never.” He picked her up, oblivious to the crowd, and carried her toward their chamber. Before he left he turned to his open-mouthed son. “What are you waiting for? Your lady mother gave you an errand.” Then he left them all, his laughter bouncing off the stone walls long after he disappeared.

Chapter 6

Staf Nuen tapped his gloved hand impatiently against his enormous palm. His eyes narrowed with hatred at his nephew. He watched General Swart leave the hall and wondered what was bothering the older man. The king’s bastard followed him out like an obedient puppy. Though Staf was often at odds with the general, perhaps there was room for discussion now. Swart was a hardliner, fighting the coming peace talks, but his unwavering loyalty to Drakko was legendary. Perhaps if he could get him alone, they could reach an agreement. As far as General Vekin was concerned—well, he was an insect, and Staf couldn’t wait to crush him into a pulp. He still needed to speak with four more of the generals and was optimistic about their point of view.

“
What errand does he attend to?” Pacuto growled rudely.

Pacuto would make any Darracian father proud. Tall as his father, with a devious mind, he was a bold warrior who never played by the rules. He was known for his
tryath, a curved dagger he had mastered. He could carve a man’s head from his body, and the victim wouldn’t even realize it until it had landed in his lap. His single brow gave him a perpetual scowl, and his bad temper made him one of the most feared army captains. He hated the king’s sons. Though Zayden was no threat to the succession of the throne, he longed to kill the smug bastard. His fisted hand itched to grab the royal braid and lop off his insolent head. It was an abomination that the king insisted he be treated equally as those born of noble birth. He despised his sickly looking, blue-tinged cousin, the prince, with equal intensity. He was barely a Darracian. Pacuto sneered as he watched the Quyroo girl follow his regal cousin toward the door.

Where is he going, and why with that servant?
Pacuto wondered. He stopped a servant and took a steaming drink, gulping it with satisfaction. Watching her swaying behind, he smiled, baring his pointed teeth. He had a Quyroo servant girl at home too and licked his lips as he thought of her. She was waiting for him in his chambers, chained to his bed. It was forbidden to keep servants chained, but Pacuto used his position to do as he pleased. Who would be stupid enough to report him anyway? He had left her early this morning, after having used her all night. She wasn’t as pretty as the queen’s girl, though. He’d like to wipe the smile off that one’s face. She was always at Reminda’s side. No one could get to the queen without first speaking to that Quyroo. He saw her superior attitude when his sisters served the queen. He would have to see if he could get her alone. Yes, he’d ruin that condescending smirk he thought, fingering his dagger.

Pacuto
grabbed another glass, but when he raised his hand to drink it, Staf stayed his arm. “I need you to be alert tonight.”

“
What?” Pacuto held up the light-green drink. “I can drink ten of them and it won’t affect me!” he boasted. His eyes followed the queen’s servant, and he sneered.

“
Humor me.” Staf observed his son with detached amusement. “Tomorrow you can drink yourself to hell, and I won’t say anything. You can get drunk with that one chained to your bed.” Staf gestured toward Tulani. “To your reward,” he said, as he tossed back the liquor.

“
That was mine,” Pacuto complained.

“
We need V’sair to remain here,” his father said gruffly, his narrowed gaze following the prince.

“
What will you do?”

“
This will delay things.” He walked to the throne and placed a hand on its golden arm. “A delay!” he cursed under his breath.

Countess Beatha glided over to her husband and son. Sensing discord she placed her fingers on his arm
, stopping him. “Something is wrong?” She had slits for eyes, her mouth a purple rictus of hate. She was older than her husband by a dozen moon phases, a general’s daughter as well as his cousin. Originally betrothed to his brother, the king, he was forced to marry her when Drakko had wed the Planta female. Though he never had wanted her, her dowry had included all of her father’s lands and a few outer planets. When the old man died, she inherited so many men of arms that Staf became the most powerful general on all of Darracia. She had given him only one son, Pacuto, but also four daughters who would bring him good alliances. Staf and Beatha had groomed Pacuto his whole life. He was the greatest warrior on the planet and had achieved the highest level when he had taken his Fireblade. It was still talked about three years later. Their combined lust for power had created a super Darracian, one who would be worthy of leadership, Sradda willing.

“
She sent the boy on an errand,” Staf told Beatha.

“
This complicates things. Will you put it off?” she demanded.

He turned to her, his eyes glittering like obsidian.
“I cannot. Everyone is in place. Every commander has been ordered to the palace tonight to welcome the Quyroo delegation. We’ll never have another chance like this. We go tonight.” His eyes blazed with an inner fire.

“
My father always said, ‘Divide and conquer.’ Send Pacuto to follow him. He can dispose of them both by himself.”

“
I cannot take a chance that V’sair might escape,” Staf responded, his voice curt.

“
Pacuto will make sure he doesn’t.”

“
He is my second-in-command. He should be here by my side,” Staf murmured. “He is my heir.”

“
Our
heir. I will be here to take my place at your side; he can join us later,” Beatha continued, her voice filled with venom. “This is to be my victory too. I should be queen.”

It was a long
-standing feud; her resentment at Drakko still simmered. When he stubbornly had taken the Planta woman as his wife then had the audacity to crown her as queen, Beatha’s coldhearted heart had turned to stone.

Staf
grunted in assent and motioned his son closer.

Pacuto ambled over, confident and excited about tonight
’s plan.

“
Follow V’sair.”

“
But Father, I need to be here.” His reptilian eyes flashed with anger.

This earned him an
livid glare. Blood rushed to Staf’s face as resentment filled his chest. “Enough!” he ordered. “Follow the prince and kill him.”

“
I can do that and be back in time for the coup.”

“
I expect no less from you. Take two guards. Remember, he has Hother.” The stallius was the fastest mount in Darracia.

“
Pah. Winata can beat him any day,” his son boasted. “I’ll be back before you even begin, with his head on my belt to show his parents when you destroy them.”

Chapter 7

V’sair stormed through the castle to the stables, angry at his parents, furious to have Tulani as company. She was Quyroo, red skinned with thick mud-colored braids that came down to her slender hips. Every so often he caught her black star-shaped eyes watching him. It was forbidden for her to make eye contact with a royal, and her boldness astounded him.

“
I can’t keep up with Your Highness,” she called out to him, her long dress hampering her from keeping up with his wide-legged stride.

He stopped, yanking her hand and pull
ing her along with him. The drinks he’d had with Zayden made him feel reckless. Their palms fit strangely together, and he felt the warmth of her blood pulse under her skin. He wanted to disengage his hand from hers but also wanted to hold it tighter. He didn’t know what he wanted and felt mightily uncomfortable.

“
Highness, please,” she pleaded. “Go slower. Surely your lady mother does not expect us to run the whole way.”

V’sair
turned on her, his eyes blazing. “You dare to imply that you know what my mother, the queen, is thinking?”

Tulani
wasn’t afraid of him, and squaring her shoulders, she looked up to him boldly and shrugged. “Certainly you realize I know your mother better than anyone here. She took me from the treetops of Desa fifteen years ago and has kept me at her side ever since.”

V
’sair was breathing hard, his chest moving quickly. “I didn’t ask for you to come. You will only slow me down,” he said haughtily. He was smarting that for his first trip to the Desa alone, they had saddled him with a baby-sitter, not only younger than him but also female.

“
Oh, you think so,” she challenged him, standing firm. “You will never find my family’s encampment without me. You are a Darracian. You don’t understand the Desa,” she finished acidly.

She had hit a nerve
, and V’sair’s voice grew thunderous. A vein bulged on his forehead, pulsing with anger. “I could have you arrested.” He met her eyes with a steely gaze.