Schism: The Battle for Darracia (Book 1) (3 page)

“
Tosh, tosh,” she said, dismissing Drakko’s guards. “He is the child of your noble loins, my liege. He can outwit the fiercest monster. He has my tensile strength just waiting to be unleashed.” Reminda smiled knowingly and swayed closer to him, her hair catching on the foil of his cloak. “It is time for him to go on an errand,” she confided softly.

Drakko paused and raised one dark eyebrow, his eyes warm on her face.
“An errand, my love? You would make our son and heir a servant?”

“
Hardly.” She teased him with the dual points of her tongue, her smile wide and inviting. “I am sending him with Tulani,” she said, nodding knowingly. “Not all lessons should be learned in the schoolroom. I will give her special instructions,” she added coyly.

“
It is late.” Drakko searched Reminda’s face. “Do you think this wise?”

“
I am not happy about sending him to the Desa at this hour, but he is restless, Drakko. If we don’t allow him some freedoms… Oh, look!” Her eyes caught V’sair and Zayden on the edge of the room. “If V’sair gets too drunk to ride, I will strangle Zayden.”

Drakko
’s eyes followed hers and rested on the antics of his sons. He shrugged. “I see what you are saying. Do you want me to stop them?”

“
Sometimes we must let nature do what it must.” Reminda faced him. “It is not easy, but we must let him find himself.”

“
He is young. I thought to introduce him to the delights of manhood sometime in the fourth moon phase.” Drakko frowned. “Should I send a detail to follow him?”

Reminda raised her finely arched brow
s. “If he sees them, Tulani will never have a chance. V’sair is exceedingly private.” She saw her husband’s dark lips purse. He was struggling with the whole idea. “He wants to learn the Fireblade,” Reminda told him in a soft voice.

“
It will kill him.”

“I agree, but
he does not feel like a man.”

Drakko grunted.
“I was afraid of this. I cannot let him do it, Reminda. He is your only son. There are many who would take this opportunity—”

“
Tosh, tosh, my husband. You have made the kingdom safe. You have set the stage for a great future. V’sair will bring in a new age to this planet—one of peace and unity. Quyroos, Darracians, and Plantas will have an equal say in the Moon Council.”

“
In that order, my love?” he asked her with a charming smile. He was so rakishly handsome that her eyes never tired of drinking in his strength and masculine beauty.

Drakko held her hands in his giant ones.
“You are cold?” His face appeared concerned. He looked up and called to one of the many attendants, “A wrap for my lady!” Then he looked at the two Quyroos who fed the constant fire in the enormous fireplace. “Build up the fire!”

They turned the lever that added fuel
, and he watched the flames roar, the heat bathing Reminda’s face. Many of the Darracians hurriedly moved away from the warmth; Countess Beatha scowled and tossed off one of her jackets. She snapped for a servant to bring her fan, opened it, and made a great display of her growing discomfort with the heat. Drakko snorted and told the servants to make it hotter. He motioned for an attendant to bring a steaming cup of chay for his wife. When it was delivered to her, she sipped it with a satisfied smile.

Reminda had worked hard to tame this wild race. Darracian men were quick to temper, and Drakko
’s father had ruled this planet in a totalitarian way. Though she came from another world, Darracians did not take well to anyone who looked different. It was only after the birth of their child that she had seen a change in her husband. A smile touched her lips when she thought of the first time she had placed the soft, mewing newborn into his iron-like embrace. The steel had melted, replaced with a bond of love. That day the great warrior king had changed forever.

Drakko threw back his great head and roared with laughter.
“So it is finally time?” he asked Reminda, his face full of mirth. “You know I would have arranged it.” He looked at the servant girl appreciatively. “It is late for him to be traveling to the Desa.”

“
I know, but we have to let him do something…Oh, I can’t believe this!”

“
What?” Drakko started to turn.

“
No, no. Don’t look at them.” She pulled his arm so that he faced her. “Zayden has just given him another a drink.” She laughed lightly. “Poor V’sair. He has such a stupid look on his face.”

Drakko smiled
. “Should I call Zayden?”

“
I need to speak to Tulani. He should be fine by then. Make sure this is his last one.”

“
Of course. Do you need me to talk to V’sair?”

“
There is no need. Mo’mo has it all handled. One moment, m’aore,” she said affectionately, as she caressed his rugged face. Reminda held up an elegant finger and motioned for Tulani to follow her to an alcove in the room.

***

V’sair stood in the center of the room, nodding to various guests. He spied a group of unmarried daughters of noble birth gathered close to a water-filled structure with fish from around the planet. It was a globe, with colorful deep-sea specimens. Hands behind his back, the liquor giving him false courage, he wandered over, looking to engage in conversation but their remarks froze him in his tracks.

“
So, if you marry him, there’s a chance his mother’s fishy toes will grace your children’s feet.”

“
That white hair, even if it has a royal braid, is hard to stomach,” another said with a giggle.

“
I don’t mind Zayden, he’s gorgeous.”

“
You father would kill you and probably betroth you to Pacuto.”

“
Did you see how small Pacuto’s tail is?”

“
At least he has one!” came an amused reply.

V
’sair stalked off, disgusted with the conversation. He despised them and wondered whether he would put up with one of them as a wife someday.

Chapter 4

V
’sair walked over to his father and dipped a knee.

“
Sire.”

“
Son.” Drakko looked at his V’sair’s flushed face and put his arm around the boy’s narrow shoulders. They were sturdy, he knew, but could they hold the weight of their world on them? He smiled conspiratorially at his older son and nodded toward a group of officers who were arguing in the corner. Zayden understood immediately, leaving to represent his father in the discussion. Drakko was proud of Zayden; he was a strong warrior, loyal, and one day would serve V’sair very well. He looked down at the frowning face of his younger son. This one had a special place in his formerly cold Darracian heart. He didn’t know he was capable of that kind of feeling until Reminda had entered his life. It was so simple but also so complicated now. He loved the boy, but would his people follow him?

After so many years of strife,
Drakko had forged a tentative peace that the citizens of the planet hadn’t shared for eons. Great Sradda willing, V’sair would be able to take Drakko’s foundation into the next generation. Their planet had been so close to total annihilation, with species killing species; it had been a brutal time. But the Elements had reached Drakko through his love for Reminda, and he had been able to turn the might of his armies to bring reason to all the warring factions. It was as difficult as riding a wild stallius. Although it was sometimes a thankless job, his work had paid off, and for the first time in many millennia, Darracia was enjoying a new awakening, and he was the driving force. Though many had tried to sabotage his plans, the planet was moving toward unity. Small outbreaks of violence still erupted, but he was working very closely with the Quyroos to bring about peace. Would V’sair be able to complete what Drakko had begun? He snapped to a servant to bring a drink to water down the liquor in his son’s stomach.

V
’sair took in the lowered brows of his father and asked, “Something troubles you, sire?”

“Just t
he usual. How goes the studies, my son?”

V
’sair declined the glass, but his father insisted. “Drink it, V’sair.”

He did
so with little grace, feeling it wash away the dreaminess of the drinks Zayden had shared with him. He liked those better, he wanted to tell his father, but chose not to. Instead, feeling courageous, he decided to broach the subject that stood between them.

“
Father…” V’sair turned to look as his father. “When can I…I mean…studies are fine, but I must be tested by the Fireblade.”

Drakko
turned away abruptly. “No. You are not built for the Fireblade, V’sair. We will not discuss it.”

“
But Dado,” V’sair complained, “how can your people respect me if I don’t accept the challenge? I must. It’s a rite of passage. How can I lead if I cannot set an example?”

“
They are your people too, V’sair. Respect will come from what you do, not how you fight.”

“
You have held this land together with force.”

“
Only to bring peace.” He took his son by the arm and walked through the great room, waving away his guards. He nodded to Emmicus but did not call him over. “Those were different times. I have only you, V’sair. Things are changing. The Quyroos will not continue as they have before. I brought back Emmicus to ensure you had the best education. You are the future of this world.”

“
But the customs…” V’sair implored him.

“
We will circumvent this custom.”

“
Circumvent!” V’sair was shocked. “You cannot. Every king, every soldier, everyone—even Emmicus—has been tested by the Fireblade.”

“
I can circumvent whatever I want. I am the king!” His father pumped his gloved fist into the air, his voice booming.

The room quieted
; the music stopped; and V’sair noticed that everyone stared at them. His father glowered at the crowd and waved off the musicians, who gathered up their instruments and left. He stalked to the other side of the room, and V’sair knew the subject was closed. A cluster of advisors and top generals surrounded Drakko, and V’sair angrily stopped himself from following. Emmicus wandered over to the group, his shaggy gray head deep in thought.

Night was falling, and the great hall was illuminated by bright lights that reflected off the polished red walls. Screens hung from four posts
; the nightly news was on. A female Darracian newscaster was speaking, the image of a raging fire behind her. Concerned Darracians surrounded the screens, murmuring softly, watching the news unfold. Drakko was deep in discussion with several council members. One of them appeared quite angry; General Swart was arguing fiercely with the king. He was one of the older officers and was walking a fine line. V’sair wondered whether his father would erupt during General Swart’s tirade. The prince wandered over to one of the screens and caught only that the fires were in the eastern provinces, where lately there had been Quyroo unrest.

“
These are troubling times, Your Highness.” V’sair knew Emmicus was standing next to him before he spoke.

“
Why do they build on Aqin? It is foolhardy as well as against the law. That land is considered sacred.”

“
Think, sire. Why would the Bottom Dwellers tempt Darracian wrath?”

“
I don’t understand,” V’sair said. “The Quyroos finally desire peace. My father has met with them.”

“
Yes…”

“
The settlements only put off the peace talks. How can my father trust them if they can’t control their own…Oh, Emmicus! I understand!” Light dawned on V’sair’s face. “It’s a power play to keep the accord from happening.”

“
Just so, young master.” Emmicus beamed. “Our lesson continues after all. As long as the Bottom Dwellers continue to settle on the forbidden lands of Aqin, there will be no peace accord. Should their tampering with the holy land of Aqin awaken the wrath of the volcano, the whole of Darracia will be in danger. Just look at those fires,” Emmicus noted, clicking his tongue. The reporter on the giant screen continued to speak of a growing rebellion in the eastern provinces.

The
newscast suddenly was drowned out by the blare of trumpets announcing V’sair’s uncle.

Staf Nuen enter
ed the room, his son—V’sair’s cousin, Pacuto—walking purposefully next to him. They wore flowing black capes, and the red dust of their planet covered their boots. They must have just come from the outdoors. They wore full armor, and while Staf’s braid was wound tightly, Pacuto’s looked slightly disheveled. Staf wore a neatly manicured beard that covered his pitted face. He was battle scarred and a pale imitation of his handsome twin brother. Staf brushed past V’sair without even a nod and approached the king, dipping his knee ever so slightly, almost an insult. His father never seemed to mind, but it bothered V’sair. His cousin, as usual, ignored him.

“
Highness,” Staf growled in a raspy, powdery baritone, rudely interrupting General Swart.

Drakko
inclined his head as he smiled benignly. “Staf. I can see by your impatience that you have news for me,” he added indulgently.

Staf bristled, and Pacuto
’s face was an impassive mask.

V
’sair wandered over to find out what was going on, but the group blatantly ignored his presence.

“
The Quyroos in the eastern quadrant have dammed the River Stevin. Our supplies are at the halfway point. They demand a seat in the Darracian Moon Council.”

“
Childish pranks that were put down by General Swart before dusk,” the king answered curtly, his gray face impassive. General Swart bowed deeply, a sneer on his granite face.

Staf was outraged.
“I saw the fires!”

“
A diversion. The supplies were released, the youngsters sent on their way,” General Swart responded smugly. He hated Staf Nuen, thought him a bully. Even though Swart argued with the king, he was loyal unto death and never would let Staf know he disagreed with any of Drakko’s policies. He had wanted to destroy the Quyroo village. It was his suggestion that they torch the settlement to teach them a lesson, but this new era of peace and understanding was interfering. Swart stared hard at the crown prince and fervently prayed for the good health of the king, Great Sradda willing. What would happen if the boy reigned? He shuddered with distaste. World order was in jeopardy; the entire planet was upside down. Bottom Dwellers were building on the sides of the great volcano, tempting the Elements. Quyroos considered themselves equal to the population of the clouds. They wanted to control the export of the randam crystals. In his 150 years, Swart never thought he’d see such nonsense. Yet the king refused to act as his father had before him. The Planta woman had made him soft, he thought with disgust. But Swart was the king’s liege and knew his duty. Staf Nuen’s roar interrupted his thoughts.

“
Sent on their way!” Staf exploded. “This is how you treat rebellion? Will you invite them to dinner as well?”

General Vekin, Drakko
’s most powerful commander, stiffened at Staf’s insulting tone, and his broad face darkened with anger. He was about to answer when the king broke the tension with a chuckle.

“
How did you know?” Drakko laughed. “The most high lord, Jonis, leader of the Quyroos, is on his way for our evening meal. He brings his female—a lovely girl, I’ve heard.” There was a challenge in Drakko’s softly spoken words. “The times are changing, brother. A new dawn has come.”

“
The evening has just started,” Staf said. “Dawn is still distant.”

“
The Quyroos merely want a spot on the council. It is hardly the end of the world. We need the randam crystals. They have them. It’s simple politics.”

“
We don’t need their permission to take the crystals. We never did.”

Drakko considered this for a moment, thinking how best to answer his brother.
“Well, yes, this is true, but what has it gotten us? The Elements tell us to work together.”

“
Darracians
. The Elements were given to the Darracians.” Pacuto couldn’t help himself and burst into the conversation. Everyone stared at him, appalled at his rudeness.

Zayden rested his hand on the pommel of his sword, his face contemptuous, his stance threatening.

General Swart glared at the young man, his eyes two shards of glass. “In my day,” he began in a withering voice, “we threw hotheads off the balconies.”

The king stayed his old general with a hand, but Staf Nuen was livid. Embarrassed and furious, he wanted to teach the old Darracian a lesson but instead took out his anger on Pacuto.

Staf turned angrily on his son. “Quiet, young fool! Go stand by your mother,” he growled.

“
I was only stating the obvious!” Pacuto replied defensively.

“
Go stand with the women. Now!” Staf commanded him, his voice a menacing hiss.

Pacuto hesitated, his face suffused
with a dark grayness. Drakko held up a finger and urged him to come closer. The king narrowed his gaze at his nephew. The boy was big, almost twice the size of V’sair. He had lead-colored skin and small glittering eyes. He was dull and good for his army, nothing more. He never would rise past captaincy; he was too stupid to be trusted, the king thought. He wondered briefly whether he should award him a governorship on one of the isolated planets located thousands of miles away, just to separate him from his father. Drakko saw trouble brewing behind those angry eyes.

“
The Elements were given to the Darracians to guard for the well-being of all the species on the planet. The Quyroos have evolved. They have schools and hospitals. They are building cities now. They are no longer primitive, and…” Drakko’s face was inches from his nephew’s, his voice menacing but quiet. “…they share our planet. They should have a say in the Moon Council.”

The Darracian Moon Council met
during the moon’s third phase in order to discuss planetary events. Both Quyroo groups, the Tree Dwellers and Bottom Dwellers, had long been excluded from any decisions. Of late the Tree Dwellers had made strong overtures to work constructively with the Darracians. They controlled the sap from the cathedral-like forests, which dripped from the trees and eventually formed the randam crystals. These minerals powered the fuel that kept the Darracians’ floating city airborne. The Tree Dwellers knew the ancient techniques to gather the sap and the secret formula to transform it into valuable fuel. In exchange for the crystals, they wanted a say in the government of the planet. It had been a hot topic, with the entire population divided. Drakko was leaning toward allowing them a seat on the council.

It’s an abomination
, Staf thought angrily. Darracians had ruled the planet for eternity. The Quyroos were tree people, incapable of rational discourse. They were beneath the Darracians on every count, subpar, barely coherent, and now his own brother was entertaining allowing them a say in the council.
What next?
His thoughts raced through his head.
Perhaps he’ll appoint one of them as a grand mestor.