Schism: The Battle for Darracia (Book 1) (7 page)

Chapter 10

Pacuto and his stallius took off from yet another spot in the Desa. He had lost Prince V’sair. In the heavens there were no trails to follow, just the direction from other Darracian guards patrolling the wide skies. The dark outline of Aqin blotted the skyscape. Pacuto looked at the villages that dotted the hills and shuddered. He didn’t want to tempt the Elements and search on the volcano. Though the prince’s stallius was well known, her stark-white color a veritable beacon, there was no sign of them. They could have landed anywhere in the Desa. He stopped several guards who reported that they had seen nothing.

A sluggish transport with five cars filled with
randam crystals rode in a snaillike pace to the left of them. Pacuto kicked Winata to fly next to them. A Petrion guard sat at the helm and another in the rear. Each car had a Quyroo to help with the unloading.

“
Have you seen the prince?” Pacuto demanded.

“
What? The prince? Or do you mean Zayden? The queen would never let her boy out this late.” He winked and gave a guttural laugh.

“
He’s out with a Quyroo slattern,” Pacuto spat. “The queen’s handmaiden.”

“’
Bout time they made a man outta him,” the guard at the end offered. “He must be having fun on the ground. I’ve seen him ride Hother. He’s got a talent. If he’s done showing off, my guess is he’s well occupied, and you won’t be hearing from him for some time. Them Quyroos can keep you real busy.”

The Quyroo in the car stiffened but remained silent.
The other balled his fist, and Pacuto smashed it with the hilt of his sword. The servant wailed and stuck his red knuckles into his mouth.

“
If you see them, call and let me know.”

“
Will do. Are we done? I’m late with the transport, and I have to get this crew back before the wysbies come out. They like to feast on Quyroo flesh.” The guard laughed. “My men will be no good for anyone if they get ’em.”

“
Perhaps they went to the eastern provinces?” one of Pacuto’s own guards grunted.

“Prince V’sair
is not a fool. He would stand out there like a blazing torch,” Pacuto answered, resting his big hands on his pommel.

“
From where does the servant girl hail?” This came from his squire, a young cousin he’d been training.

“
Good thinking, Grodot. The girl. Call and find out her home.” Kicking mightily, Pacuto urged Winata higher so he could scan the red treetops. He paused thoughtfully when he spotted the fires lighting the Quyroo camps.

***

Tulani had removed her Darracian dress and felt free and comfortable in her loincloth. V’sair lay on the velvet ground, his jacket open, his face serene. Hother munched contentedly on a bush off to the side. Tulani bent over and tickled V’sair’s pale stomach, her loosened braids caressing him. Pulling her forward, he kissed her again, her small moans inciting him with desire once again.

“
V’sair…” She nipped his ear. “It is dangerous out here. We must go. The wysbies fly at night, and I don’t have a mind to get stung.”

V
’sair looked at her shining, black eyes, their star shape so feminine. He brushed grass from her cheek. “I don’t know how I never saw you before,” he said, filled with wonder.

“
You saw me every day, sire.” She laughed, her fingers playing with the taut skin that covered his ribs.

“
A little while ago, you called me ‘V’sair.’” He kissed her deeply. “You are always in my mother’s shadow; I never really noticed you.” He gently cupped her face. “You are beautiful.”

“
So are you.” Tulani straddled him, their bare chests touching, setting off sparks wherever flesh touched flesh.

“
I am an ugly mutant. At least you know what you are.” He held her red-tinged arm against his own light-blue one. “You are born of the red soil of Desa; my father is the gray sky of Darracia; my mother is the orange sun of Planta. I am not any of those things. I am neither—not red or gray or orange. I am nothing.”

“
Don’t talk like that.” Tulani kissed his cheeks and eyelids. She pressed against him, wishing to be closer. Her skin prickled where it met his and made them aware of every part of their bodies. She ran her nimble fingers through his hair, and with delight, she watched his eyes close. “You are beautiful and strong and wise. I have always known it. V’sair, I have always loved you.”

V’sair shook his head. “
I am not worthy enough of the Fireblade.”

“
You
are
the Fireblade to me. My Fireblade.” Tulani enveloped him with renewed passion and ignored the call of the keewalla monkeys, which signaled danger.

Chapter 11

Staf Nuen waited in his room, his wife
Beatha pacing the floor.
“General Xam has reneged.” Staf crumpled a note from his former ally. “He has gone back to his holdings and refuses us his men.”

They were in their royal apartments
, where they stayed when they were away from home. The quarters were small, and Beatha had bristled when they had been assigned to them. Reminda took every opportunity to shove her status as the queen in their faces. The countess licked her lips, thinking of what she’d like to do to the Planta woman.

“
Why?” Beatha sneered. “Perhaps you were not persuasive enough?”

“
He says a revolt will destroy the our economy, and trade with the outer planets will be affected. The Treaty of Seven Seventy-One will be rescinded. He thinks V’sair has a bright intellect,” he growled with disgust, and added, “Oh, yes, my dear. He says that the Elements shine in V’sair’s soul and that the prince is the anointed one.”

“
General Xam is an old woman,” Beatha said, her voice filled with scorn. “My father hated and never trusted him.” She turned her beady gaze to Staf. “Much like your brother.”

Staf didn
’t respond. Instead he stalked over to a decanter and poured himself a glass of purple liquid.

“
Do you think that’s wise, husband?” Beatha asked with venom. “Does not krayum make your mind cloudy and your tongue heavy?” She paused with disgust. “I don’t think it’s prudent.”

“No one
asked you, hag.”

Staf’s
nevi beeped with urgency, and he removed it from his belt to see who was calling and turned his back to respond.

Beatha watched through narrowed eyes, waiting breathlessly.
As he shook his head and spun around, her breath caught in her throat.

After ending the call, he turned to his wife. “
Generals Veril and Blyst are with us. They are sending a detail to take out General Vekin.” His bright-white teeth gleamed against this gray skin.

“
What of Swart?”

“
I am convinced I can turn him. He hates the idea of the accord.” He poured himself another glass of krayum, and it overfilled so that it puddled on the tray. Beatha eyed him with disdain.

“
He is a king’s man. I don’t trust him. You must kill him. If you don’t act soon, the entire rebellion will fail.” Beatha turned to look at Staf, his face a deeper gray than usual. “Do your nerves fail you, husband?” she asked, her gaze steely.

“
You dare question my honor?” Staf stood his full seven feet in order to menace his wife. “You dried-up piece of—”

Their youngest daughter
, Hilde, interrupted them, breezing into the room oblivious to any of their schemes. She was lovely, with long black hair; she had just learned to put it up with black ribbons. Staf and Beatha had introduced her to the court this year so she could make an alliance with one of the wealthy families that attended. It seemed like only yesterday when Staf had bounced this one on his knee. She was the last—and to his mind, the best—of his litter.

“
Where is Pacuto?” she asked, eyeing her parents warily, knowing she had disturbed an argument. Hilde had an acute sense of smell and could detect the odor of krayum on her father when she pressed her face next to his hairy cheek. It was never a good thing when Dado drank. His temper could become uncertain.

“
Never mind. You were told to return to the donjon and stay indoors. What brings you here, child?” Staf did have a soft spot for this child. She so reminded him of his own mother, dead these last hundred years. Hilde was brave and sweet, not like her sisters.

“
The queen requested Pacuto. I was searching for him. I have called him, but he does not answer.”

Beatha stiffened
. “Does she think a prince from the house of Nuen is her errand boy?”

“
Not now, wife.”

“
Where is the queen now?” Beatha demanded.

“
The Ambros room,” Hilde told them with a smile.

The Ambros room was the queen
’s private room, where the females congregated. The uppity servant girl who was always at the queen’s elbow had left, and Reminda had given her niece some much-needed attention. As the youngest of five at seventeen years of age, she rarely was noticed, with Pacuto soaking up most of her mother’s praise. While she could wrap her father around her finger, she never saw him much. He was, after all, the king’s brother and a great warrior, as well as the grand mestor.

“
She is seeing guests now,” Hilde said. “She needed Pacuto to escort the Quyroo leader to her room.” She smiled gayly. “The Quyroo and his mate have come. Oh, she is so pretty. I wish I had those star-shaped eyes,” she added, wistfully thinking maybe her cousin Zayden would notice her more if she did.

Beatha reached out and slapped her hard across
the face. Hilde gasped, her eyes filling with tears. She slapped her again and would have struck her once more had not Staf stilled her violence.

“
You dare to compare yourself to a Quyroo? I should send you to the Desa and leave you to deal with—”

“
Enough!” Staf roared. “Leave us, child, and talk no more of Quyroos.”

“
They are like us!” rebellious Hilde responded. “They are nice. They want peace.”

This time Staf slapped her.
“I said enough. Go to your room and stay there until your lady mother can stomach you once again. Take your filthy mouth and leave!”

The room was silent as
Hilde backed out. What they didn’t see was her quick turn to the anteroom, where she crouched low inside a giant wardrobe. She wanted to know what made them this jumpy. She’d bet her new hair ribbon they were hiding something.

“
I should give that one to Faetha,” her mother spat.

Hilde
cringed, thinking of the ancient man with his stooped shoulders and withered tail. She’d die first, she thought dramatically. Surely her mother wasn’t serious. They knew she wanted Zayden; she had made no secret of that. Though her parents were unhappy about his illegitimacy, he was still a king’s son.

“Faetha
is old,” Staf said grudgingly.

“
I tire of her antics. She is a handful.”

Staf laughed
. “Not unlike her mother.”

“
I was obedient. I married you, didn’t I?” she said craftily.

“
You wanted me,” Staf told her, “and my bloodlines.”

“
I wanted your brother,” she said with a scowl. “I didn’t want your temper.” In a swish of shimmery fabric, Beatha turned to leave the room and thought that what she really wanted was to have the throne.

“
Wait!” Staf called to her. “Where will you be when the action begins?”

The countess stilled her hand on the door
. “I don’t want to be caught in the violence.”

Hilde
’s eyes opened wide, and she strained to hear the muted conversation.
Violence?
she thought.
What kind of violence?

“
General Crafe is handling the center of the castle. He knows you. He will only go after the king and the consort.” Though her father’s voice was low, Hilde heard him, and terror seized her. “He will kill Drakko and the Planta woman.”

“
What will you do about Zayden?” the countess asked.

Hilde
’s back went straight when she heard the name. Pressing her ear against the door, she strained to hear more. What were they planning to do to Zayden? Her pointed teeth worried her bottom lip.

“
He is loyal to both the king and V’sair.” Hilde heard her father pace the room. “He is a problem and could be used as a pretender to the throne against us.”