The King's Challenge #323 #324 #325 and #326

TKC 323, 324, 325 and 326

My sudden movement awakens Iniri; she straightens with alacrity. “Father?”

“It is a ruse,” I blurt out.

Enris is swiftly with us. “What is a ruse?” Brother and sister glance at each other in confusion.

I stare at them, but I am not actually looking at them.

“Your illness?” Iniri murmurs, taking my hand gently. Perhaps she thinks I have lost my mind, for she adds, “It was real, father. Siri and I worked hard to remove the poison in your blood.”

Inhaling sharply, I shake my head. I am at this point unable to be coherent, for my talent has sprung forth in full colour and strength. I have no doubt part of this robust result is due to Iniri’s inner healing.

“Wait, Iniri,” Enris says is a quiet tone. “This is something else.”

Silence is mine then. I continue staring at my children without seeing them. The hand my daughter strokes feels removed from self, someone else’s anatomy … until I pull it free to clutch at the bedding. Both hands clench upon the rough linen.

“Father!” she gasps.

Indeed, I must appear mad. I do not care. “Enris.” My son leans in and I grip him by the head to pull him close. “Secure the Empress. Now.”

Thank the stars that he still trusts me, for Enris immediately strides away.

My ensuing focus is for Iniri. “Arc needs us. Massin needs us.”

“What is it?” she whispers.

“It is a ruse, the withdrawal. All Glonu prepare to strike the planet below.” My words are barely audible, but she hears me. Her face is expressive in its blossoming astonishment … and fear.

Scuffling erupts, followed by insane sounding laughter.

“Stop it!” Enris growls.

Leffandir’s laughter intensifies.

Along with Iniri, I move my line of sight to view the interaction. I say not a word, for Enris needs to subdue her first. The Glonu Empress cannot be permitted freedom of either movement or voice. Enris already understands; her response to his holding has revealed her. She struggles in his arms, but he remains steadfast, although he has paled to the point of vanishing.

“Manipulative bitch!” Iniri spits.

Almost crying her laughter, Leffandir locks gazes with my daughter. “People should be truthful, Iniri. If someone had told me the truth of what happened to my daughter, I may have stayed my hand. If Enris had found me in my isolation soon after the event, I may never have envisioned how to hurt him most.” Abruptly she swallows her laughter and ceases struggling. “Now it is too late to change anything.”

“How will you hurt him most?” Iniri asks, her voice remarkably even.

Leffandir sags into Enris’ clasp and he is forced to hold her up. It means he has one arm about her waist to pull her against him. He cannot see her face from his position behind her, but I have no doubt my son is aware of every emotion passing through her as her body communicates with his. He pales more and I begin to grow anxious. He will swiftly reach the point where anger will rise to quell the agony of another betrayal. His Warrior will assume ascendancy.

In an emotionless tone, the Empress says, “My ethereal ages gifted me farsight and long range communication skills. I have been in contact with my armies through all the time from then to now. In the next solar cycle, every Ilfin world, including Makaran, will be attacked.”

“You are not ethereal anymore,” Iniri states.

“You should perhaps wish that I still was, for then I may have retained the ability to countermand my orders,” Leffandir shrugs. “In this solid form I am unable to reach my generals.”

The girl Siri moves into view. “How will you hurt Enris?” she demands.

“Clever girl,” the Glonu woman murmurs. “War is familiar to him, isn’t it? That is not the kind of hurt able to debilitate him, after all.”

Iniri hisses a breath at the same moment I comprehend Leffandir’s larger strategy. She intends for Enris to lose himself in his Warrior. It will lead him to a terrible death; before that he will become an object for war and the man inside will not care.

Siri Mur clearly sees it also, for she moves to Enris’ side and lays her hands on his shoulder. “Focus on your family,” she whispers to him. “Enris, look at me.”

My son blinks, turns his head to her. Already the lust for battle kindles in his gaze. “Do not concern yourself; I am fine.”

I swing myself off the bed and stride to the door. Jerking it open, I holler, “Gennerin, Coltern, attend!” Swivelling back, I march to my son and the Empress. My strength is renewed, I feel it as I sense health in my body again, but I have not had much exercise recently. This show of mastery will not last long.

Gennerin strides in and I grip Leffandir by her shoulder, jerk her from Enris’ hold and swing her towards the commander. He asks no questions; he merely receives her and holds her.

“Deep cells,” I state.

“It will mean transferring her to another ship.”

“I am aware. Do it.”

Gennerin nods and removes the woman from our sight. Coltern enters then, but I ignore him for my son. Enris is paralysed; he fights the rising of fury inside him.

“Hold that fury,” I say, slapping him hard. As he flinches, I add, “Ask me for the one that will assuage your guilt and your grief.”

Yes, I have understood that my son and that woman had a daughter and the girl’s death caused a mighty rift. I am also aware, had the girl lived, with time the Glonu/Ilfin wars may have come to a lasting end. Between the two, they had created the means to marry two warring civilisation … but that was not to be and now we needed to focus on the present.

Enris blinks rapidly and some of his anger stills. “Give me Lorn.”

I am the one blinking then. Lorn? What has my brother to do with this? I glance at Iniri; she sighs as she meets my gaze. Ah. Lorn Makar murdered their child. It is another betrayal; it means my brother has been a traitor for ages. By the stars, what else has he caused that we remain unaware of?

Inhaling my own fury, I face my son. “Lorn is yours, but you may have him only after we have secured our civilisation.”

Enris stares at me and then nods. Shifting to Coltern, he states, “We return to Arc.” Without looking at anyone he then leaves the room.

Coltern moves to look at me, awaiting further orders. He does not glance at Iniri at all. I feel sorry for my daughter; this is another wedge. In fact, I feel sorry for both my children; life has not been fair to either.

“All Ilfin ships in orbit are to fire immediately on every Glonu ship in proximity. Every Ilfin ship still on Massin will wing to Arc. Tell Gennerin to launch our forces on all other worlds; soon those skies will be invaded.”

Coltern salutes smartly and swivels to exit.

“By the stars.” Iniri breathes.

Indeed.