Chapter 127 - The dark path to succession...

Edraele leaned into her lover’s warm embrace and let out a contented sigh. “Oh, I really needed this ... I felt awful after that meeting with Gaenna.”

Luna held the Maliri Queen close, making her feel safe and protected. “You’re not that person any more, Edraele.”

“I know ... but revisiting those horrible memories is always disturbing. It wasn’t me that did those dreadful things, but I still remember doing them,” she replied, nuzzling into the former assassin’s long flowing hair.

Pulling back so that she could see her Queen’s face, Luna gave her a look of understanding. “Edraele ... I know exactly what you’re talking about. The difference is that I actually did do all sorts of terrible things.”

“Only at my behest,” Edraele interjected with a frown. “It wasn’t as if you had any choice in the matter. If you’d refused my orders, my predecessor would have had you executed.”

“Does that absolve me of guilt though?” Luna asked, looking conflicted. “If you commanded me to assassinate your enemies now, I would still follow your orders ... but out of love rather than duty.”

Edraele cupped her bodyguard’s face and said softly, “Then I shall never abuse your loyalty and devotion, my love.”

They shared a smile and were leaning in for a kiss, when Edraele felt a surge of shock across her empathic bond with Gaenna Baelora. The older matriarch had been fuming when she departed from Edraele’s quarters, the sting of humiliation lingering long after she left the Queen’s presence. That anger was to be expected, but the flurry of negative emotions Gaenna was experiencing now were definitely not. Fear and horror followed in quick succession, the dreadful sensations ramping up dramatically until they were punctuated by sharp flashes of pain.

“Something’s wrong!” Edraele blurted out, jerking back from Luna. Before the startled assassin could say a word, she quickly added, “Gaenna Baelora is scared and hurt ... I think she’s under attack!”

Luna nodded her understanding and vaulted over the chaise longue as she sprinted for their bedroom. In a matter of seconds, she was fully garbed in a Paragon suit, her sword and pistol gripped in her gauntleted fists.

Stay here and seal the door, she ordered the Maliri Queen as she rushed out of her suite.

Be careful, Luna! Edraele urged her lover, closing the reinforced doors behind the assassin.

She strode over to her office, crossed the smaller room and retrieved an elegant laser pistol from a concealed compartment in her desk. The weapon powered up with a quiet hum, then Edraele placed it within easy reach next to the console. As she wondered who might have dared to attempt an assassination here at Genthalas, there was another burst of terror across the bond with Gaenna, quickly followed by blinding spikes of pain. Standing there in shock, Edraele witnessed the House Baelora matriarch’s last moments of suffering, until she abruptly disappeared from the Queen’s network of wards, her life snuffed out in a shroud of agony.

John! Edraele called out in alarm. Gaenna’s dead!

What? he replied, startled by her frantic cry.

Matriarch Gaenna Baelora has just been killed!

What the hell happened?! he demanded, his fear for the Maliri Queen making him curt. Are you and your girls in danger?

Before she could reply, Luna’s calm voice cut through her subconscious. I’m approaching Gaenna’s suite. Her bodyguards are still standing outside ... the alarm hasn’t been raised.

Luna’s investigating now, John. I’m afraid I don’t know any details yet, Edraele quickly replied. The Young Matriarchs are all safe; we were about to have dinner together when I sensed Gaenna’s fear as she was attacked.

Please tell Luna to be careful, Edraele, he said, sounding worried. That goes for the rest of you too.

We will, she assured him. I’ll keep you informed.

Sarinia sighed with satisfaction as she closed the comms interface and swept out of her mother’s office. Her plan had worked flawlessly and she’d finally achieved her life-long ambition ... supplanting Gaenna as matriarch and claiming undisputed rule of House Baelora. She crossed the lounge and paused at the entrance to the dining room, her golden-eyed gaze sweeping across the twisted corpses sprawled across the floor.

The sight of her mother’s butchered corpse brought a triumphant smile to Sarinia’s lips, but her moment of jubilation was marred when she glanced at her siblings. Feeling a pang of regret, she knelt beside her youngest sister’s crumpled body. Tehlariene’s vacant stare was accusing, the pain of betrayal written across the noblewoman’s anguished features. Sarinia brushed her fingertips over Tehlariene’s face, closing her lifeless eyes for the last time.

“I’m sorry...” she whispered softly. “I wish there had been another way, but I had no choice.”

Behind her, Sarinia heard the doors to the guest suite open and she turned to see who had entered. The four House Baelora bodyguards rushed inside, their laser rifles raised and held at the ready. They seemed to freeze at once, all eyes drawn to Gaenna Baelora’s blood-spattered corpse. Sarinia could see the bodyguards’ horror at the orgy of violence unleashed on the matriarch, their gaze flicking accusatorily to the obvious perpetrator who knelt amidst the sprawl of corpses.

Accompanying them was a woman wearing a gleaming suit of white armour. This white-haired Maliri female paused momentarily when she saw Sarinia’s handiwork, then studied the blood-drenched noblewoman with curiosity rather than revulsion. Sarinia had been around enough hardened killers to recognise an experienced assassin when she saw one, and the lack of reaction to the gruesome sight of her mother’s butchered body spoke volumes.

Slowly rising to her feet, Sarinia made no threatening moves as she faced the white-armoured woman. “I am Matriarch Sarinia Baelora. I cordially request an audience with Queen Edraele.”

The assassin studied her for a long moment, her head tilted slightly to one side as if listening to something. “Queen Edraele will see you now ... Matriarch.”

Nodding to her graciously, Sarinia turned to address the four bodyguards, her tone confident and authoritative. “Arrange for the disposal of these bodies. I would like this suite cleansed and my belongings brought here before I return.”

One of the guards blinked in surprise, then snapped out of her daze and dipped her head in supplication. “As you command, Matriarch.”

Sarinia stepped over her youngest sister’s body and glided out of the room, the bodyguards moving aside to make way for their new matriarch. Decades of obeying the ruler of their House made the transfer of power seamless and she smiled at their instinctive deference to her authority. Unfortunately, Sarinia’s stately departure was undermined by her squelching footsteps as she dripped a gory trail across the carpets.

Pausing to glance down at her dress, she then faced the assassin who accompanied her. “I would rather not meet the Queen for the first time while drenched in my mother’s blood. If Edraele will forgive me for keeping her waiting, I’d like to return to my quarters to make myself presentable.”

“The Queen forgives you ... for keeping her waiting,” Luna replied, her rich voice kept carefully neutral as she gestured with a gauntleted hand for Sarinia to proceed.

Edraele stood by the window in her office, gazing out at the panoramic view. This time neither the golden spires of Genthalas nor the fleets of deadly warships held her attention, as she carefully informed John of everything she’d learned so far of Gaenna Baelora’s murder.

She was killed by her own daughter?! John asked incredulously.

Yes, I’m afraid so. Judging by the state of Gaenna’s mutilated corpse, Luna estimates she was stabbed at least fifty times. Sarinia also appears to have poisoned her four sisters while they were eating dinner together, leaving her the sole survivor of House Baelora.

How could she do that? he muttered, shocked that anyone could murder their own family.

Edraele frowned with regret. I should have foreseen this eventuality. When we started offering to rejuvenate the older matriarchs, this was the only logical outcome.

How the hell is butchering your own mother logical?!

John ... you’re viewing this incident through the eyes of a Terran, not a Maliri. A matriarch’s daughter spends her entire life plotting against her sisters and dreaming of the day she can replace her mother as Matriarch of their House. Sarinia is at least a century old ... she’s been waiting a very long time for Gaenna’s demise.

Why? he asked in confusion. If she wanted her mother dead that badly, why didn’t she just kill her decades ago?

Because that’s not how things are done. A matriarch’s daughters must wait until their mother either dies of natural causes, or is killed by a rival matriarch, Edraele replied patiently. She could sense him about to object, so she quickly continued, Do you remember I told you about House rankings? How not just the planetary systems and ships under your control determine your status, but the strength of the noble household too?

I remember... He paused for a moment. Tsarra mentioned that after her mother and sisters had been assassinated, she had to fight tooth and nail to keep the House Perfaren ranking.

Yes, exactly. The death of any family members can have a considerable impact on your House rank ... and that loss of status is something any Maliri noblewoman wants to avoid at all costs. On a more practical note, why would a matriarch ever have any daughters if they tried to kill her as soon as they became adults? There had to be some form of structure to the rivalry between the Houses, or the Regency would have devolved into total anarchy millennia ago.

Alright ... I can see that makes a sick kind of sense, he grudgingly conceded. But I still don’t see why it’s logical that Sarinia would kill her mother.

If you’d given Gaenna what she so desperately wanted and restored her youth, she would have outlived her daughters by at least a century. We’ve also outlawed assassinations by rival Houses, so we essentially took away any chance of Sarinia ever becoming matriarch ... and she reacted accordingly. Try asking Irillith what she would have done under the same circumstances.

There was a long pause as John conferred with Edraele’s daughter.

Yeah, she would have murdered you too, he eventually muttered, his voice bleak. I’m responsible for this mess, aren’t I?

Your intentions were good ... but matriarchal succession has been a fundamental part of the Maliri nobility for nearly ten-thousand years. It was inevitable that there would be some ... complications ... as a result of radically changing Maliri culture.

John let out a weary sigh. You know what they say about good intentions...

Yes, but I firmly believe you’re paving the way to heaven, not hell, Edraele said emphatically. Don’t be disheartened by this setback, John. If anyone is at fault, it’s me for not anticipating this kind of reaction. Fortunately, the old matriarchs appear to be keeping their offspring blissfully unaware of events transpiring at Genthalas. Sarinia and her sisters are the first noble daughters to have ventured here ... and they suffered torture at Gaenna’s hand for daring to disobey her orders to stay on their homeworld.

I don’t blame you for this, Edraele, John said, sounding frustrated rather than upset. We’ve had so much to deal with recently, things were bound to start slipping through the cracks. You warned me weeks ago that I needed to deal with the older matriarchs and if I’d been able to stay at Genthalas, we could’ve resolved this without bloodshed.

Larn’kelnar’s games have had far-reaching consequences, Edraele agreed.

So what are we going to do about Sarinia? he asked, a pensive edge to his voice. She just murdered her entire family. I won’t condone that kind of behaviour, even if we inadvertently created this situation.

We have a number of options available. Sarinia broke one of the few edicts I’ve issued since becoming Queen and, by right, she should face execution. Alternatively, you could commute her sentence and incarcerate her for life ... which would be an equally effective deterrent to the Maliri nobility. One important thing to bear in mind though, is that Sarinia is the last surviving member of her family. If you do decide to execute her or have her imprisoned, we’d need to break up House Baelora and split its territory between neighbouring Houses.

We need to handle this situation very carefully, John said, lost in thought. We’ve got to find a way of stopping further assassinations.

Let me speak with Sarinia, then we can discuss her punishment afterwards.

Alright ... let me know when you’re done talking to her, he said, suddenly sounding bone-weary.

Get some rest, John, Edraele said softly. You’re exhausted after doing so much shaping today. Sarinia is already in custody, so there’s no need to make a snap decision on her fate. We can discuss this later once you’ve had some sleep and fully recovered.

Alright, that sounds good to me. With a little luck, we should intercept the Kirrix fleet in about 7 hours, so I’ll try to get some rest then talk to you before the battle. Oh, that reminds me ... Alyssa’s improvements to the Invictus’ hyper-warp speed should halve the time it’ll take us to get back to Genthalas.

That’s the best news I’ve had in weeks, Edraele murmured, a note of yearning in her voice. Pleasant dreams, my lord ... I long for your return home.

Thanks, honey, I can’t wait either. I’ll speak to you soon.

The Maliri Queen smiled, feeling a fluttering of anticipation in her stomach. It seemed like a lifetime ago that John had last been in Maliri Space and even then, it had only been for a brief rendezvous at the border. While that fleeting visit had been wonderful, Edraele desperately wanted to help John relax and take his mind off all his recent woes.

We’re about to arrive at your suite, Edraele, Luna quietly informed her.

Bring her straight through to my office please, Luna, she replied, turning away from the window to focus on the door.

A few moments later, Luna led Sarinia inside, the House Baelora noblewoman wearing a pristine set of ornate matriarchal robes. Edraele appraised the younger woman for a moment, silently impressed by her poise and bearing. Although Sarinia had only just been elevated to matriarch, she already possessed a quiet air of authority, having spent her entire life training for this moment. That kind of confidence was something Edraele had been attempting to teach the Young Matriarchs, but as the youngest daughters of their respective Houses, it did not come naturally to them.

Sarinia bowed respectfully, then couldn’t help staring at the Queen in fascination. “It’s an honour to meet you, Queen Edraele. Thank you for granting me an audience at such short notice.”

“Under the circumstances, I thought it prudent to speak with you as soon as possible,” Edraele replied, before gesturing to the sofas facing each other. “Please ... have a seat.”

Nodding graciously, Sarinia sat down on the closest chaise longue. Her gaze flicked to the side as Luna padded across the room and she watched the assassin lean indolently against the wall. A casual glance would lead someone to believe that Luna was disinterested in the meeting, but Sarinia could see a gauntleted hand idly caressing the hilt of her curved sword. She was under no illusions that any threatening moves towards the Queen would swiftly result in her head being parted from her shoulders.

Turning her attention to the stunning white-haired beauty who sat opposite, Sarinia said contritely, “There is much I would like to discuss with you, Queen Edraele ... but first I feel I must offer you an apology.”

“You wish to apologise for brutally murdering your family?”

Sarinia could feel the disapproval in Edraele’s gaze and she couldn’t help blushing with embarrassment, her composure wavering. “No, my Queen.”

Edraele raised an eyebrow. “No? Are you aware that I had issued an edict strictly forbidding all further assassinations?”

“My mother told me several weeks ago that she’d decided to put a moratorium on assassinations ... which was profoundly out of character. I discovered earlier today that the decision was actually made by you, not Gaenna ... but I must admit ... that didn’t deter me from my course.”

“If you don’t respect my authority, why bother apologising to me?”

Leaning forward, Sarinia’s golden eyes sparkled as she said earnestly, “Oh, but I do respect you, Edraele! Very much so, in fact. I wanted to apologise for wasting your time.”

“You consider this conversation a waste of time?” Edraele asked, startled by the younger woman’s answer. “Should we move straight on to your execution then?”

“I sincerely hope it doesn’t come to that,” Sarinia replied with a wry smile. “No, I wanted to apologise for the subterfuge with Kali Loraleth. The only way I could think of to separate Gaenna from her bodyguards, was to have you subject her to a stern reprimand for ignoring the ban on the use of neural whip. I knew my mother would be incandescent with rage afterwards, and stop at nothing to interrogate her daughters to find out who was responsible ... but she would never allow her bodyguards to overhear that she’d been humiliated.”

“So Gaenna dismissed her protective detail, leaving her vulnerable,” Edraele murmured, looking at Sarinia with newfound respect for her deviousness. “Weren’t you the least bit concerned that I’d take offense at being manipulated?”

“I heard that Baen’thelas admires a woman with a keen mind and a rebellious streak, so I hoped that you might have a similar outlook. If I did offend you, then I truly am sorry.”

Edraele inclined her head in acknowledgement, then reached for the decanter of ruby liquid on the table between them. “Drink?”

Sarinia nodded politely, then accepted the fluted glass. She sipped the wine, then her eyebrows climbed in appreciation. “A House Holaris vintage ... it seems my mother isn’t the only matriarch eager to sup from the fountain of youth.”

The Queen’s full lips curled into a wry smile. “You certainly have been working hard to uncover all our secrets. I suppose that now your mother is no longer with us, you intend to be the beneficiary of the deal I brokered with Gaenna on Baen’thelas’ behalf?”

“I can’t think of a finer trading partner for House Baelora’s Vrysandral Spice,” Sarinia replied, her expression turning coy. “It will be a pleasure doing business with you, my Queen.”

Edraele shook her head. “So you expect me to forgive your transgressions and simply allow you to replace Gaenna in the Council of Matriarchs?”

Sarinia took a sip from her glass, then put it down on the table. Leaning forward, she said earnestly, “I can only imagine how difficult it’s been, trying to smooth over centuries of bitter hatred between rival matriarchs and force them to unite behind your banner. I am not my mother, Edraele. If you give me a chance, I promise I will be a loyal and supportive ally.”

Swirling the glass in her hand, Edraele stared at the exotic wine. “In truth, my relationship with the elder matriarchs has been somewhat ... fractious. Your mother in particular was a constant source of irritation, particularly with her dismissive outlook towards the Young Matriarchs. If it were up to me, I would be strongly tempted to consider your proposal ... but the situation is more complicated than you are aware. I understand your motivations for eliminating Gaenna, but you went too far when you murdered your sisters as well.”

With a rueful sigh, Sarinia said, “I would have spared them if I could, but leaving them alive was too much of a risk.”

“I can’t imagine any of your sisters would have posed much of a threat, not once you’d replaced your mother as matriarch,” Edraele said, looking unconvinced.

“I was never in any serious danger from any of them,” Sarinia agreed, waving a hand dismissively. “My only concern was how you would react to news of my mother’s early retirement.”

Edraele studied her for a moment, finally understanding what had driven the young woman to sororicide. “Kali told you about the part I played in establishing the Young Matriarchs...”

Giving her a look filled with respect, Sarinia said, “I have to commend you for the remarkable way you seized the throne, Edraele. Assassinating four of the matriarchs from the top seven Houses and replacing them with their pliable youngest daughters was a masterstroke. Kali is quite delightful; so innocent and eager to please ... she practically worships you. She actually reminded me a lot of my youngest sister, which was why I couldn’t afford to take the chance that you would simply execute me and install Tehlariene as another puppet matriarch under your control.”

“So you killed all your sisters,” Edraele said quietly. “Leaving you as the only surviving member of House Baelora...”

“Tehlariene would have made a terrible matriarch,” Sarinia said, lifting her glass for another sip. “Myrdina, Lieralia, and Rosanae were also equally poor choices. Honestly, I did you a favour in eliminating them as candidates to replace me.”

“It seems you’ve thought of everything,” Edraele said, an undercurrent of admiration to her voice. Her expression turned rueful as she continued, “Unfortunately, as clever as you seem to be, you do not know Baen’thelas. He was particularly vexed by the rampant murders within the Maliri Regency and he’s gone to considerable effort to eliminate further assassinations. He was appalled to hear that you slaughtered your own mother and poisoned your sisters ... and I’m afraid that in all likelihood, you’ve sealed your fate.”

“So what does the future hold for me?” Sarinia asked, looking surprisingly unperturbed. “Am I to be dealt with by swift execution? Is House Baelora to face dissolution, its holdings and assets divided between our neighbours? I know Meriel Romenor and Keishara Venkalyn have viewed Baeloran territory with hungry eyes for centuries...”

Edraele paused, studying the self-assured woman who sat before her. Sarinia didn’t seem to be the least bit concerned about the dire future she’d just portrayed, in fact she still maintained an air of quiet confidence.

“You don’t have the look of a woman facing imminent disaster,” she accused the House Baelora matriarch, her eyes narrowing with suspicion. “What are you up to?”

Sarinia sipped her wine and allowed herself a small smile.

Thalia Romenor stared at the holo-screen in rapt fascination, enthralled by the vision of masculinity before her. The thought of coupling with a border male had never been high on her agenda, preoccupied as she’d been with avoiding her mother’s wrath and sisters’ machinations, but this man was no mere Maliri. He was so tall and wonderfully muscular ... the thought of being held in his strong arms made her flush with excitement, an unfamiliar tingling in her loins leaving her panting with lust.

Tracing a fingertip over his lips, Thalia could only imagine what it would be like to be kissed by him ... this Baen’thelas. Her trembling fingers broke the holographic image, causing it to flicker and momentarily breaking the spell. She blinked her dry eyes and darted a glance at the chronometer and was shocked to realise she’d been gazing at him for over twenty minutes.

She didn’t have the heart to close the photograph and be parted from his handsome face, so Thalia chose to move it aside to view the accompanying message again. The fanciful tale of matriarchs conspiring together to achieve immortality had seemed like a bizarre joke at first, at least until she reached the end and activated Sarinia Baelora’s personal message. It wasn’t her blood-soaked face which had convinced Thalia there might be a grain of truth to the story, but the gleam of triumph in those golden eyes ... that of a first daughter earning her rightful place as matriarch.

Then of course she’d studied the pictures that Sarinia had sent, each one more shocking than the last. Meriel Romenor’s fanciful story about white hair being the latest matriarchal fashion actually appeared to be true, but the images of the five long-haired matriarchs and particularly Queen Edraele had shaken Thalia to her bones. The final picture of Baen’thelas left no doubt in her mind that every word of Sarinia’s story had been the truth. Even if it wasn’t, Thalia couldn’t care less; she would do –anything– for the chance to bed a male as magnificent as him.

“See you at the next Council meeting, Sarinia Baelora,” Thalia said with a wicked grin, reaching for the jewelled dagger she kept in a concealed sheath under her desk.

The walk to her mother’s palatial suite was a surreal experience. For the first time she could remember, Thalia was actually looking forward to seeing Meriel Romenor. The hardest thing was hiding her smile of anticipation when she reached the armoured Maliri guards standing sentry outside the matriarchal apartments. She maintained a familiar expression of anxious tension as she breezed past the House Romenor soldiers, pretending to be too preoccupied with another fraught meeting with her mother to bother acknowledging the guards in any fashion.

They still nodded to her respectfully and opened the reinforced doors, which slid shut behind Thalia by the time she’d crossed the foyer. Raised voices reached her sharp ears and she paused, listening to the faint sound of angry words being exchanged coming from deeper in the quarters. Creeping down the corridor towards her mother’s large and opulent office, she recognised one of the voices as that of Nithroel, the eldest of her two younger siblings.

“You thought I’d just let you torture me forever?!” the enraged Maliri noblewoman screeched.

Thalia didn’t hear any response, just the sounds of a frantic scuffle and strangled choking. She approached the door and found Nithroel kneeling astride their mother, her long blue fingers wrapped tight around Meriel’s throat. Stopping to stare at the mortal struggle, Thalia watched in shock as the House Romenor Matriarch jerked around, her legs kicking ineffectively at the floor as she tried to dislodge her daughter. Their mother had always been a powerful and imposing figure, so to see her reduced to this pathetic state was ... a thing of beauty.

“There’ll be no immortality for you, mother,” Nithroel crooned, a sadistic glee to her taunts as she squeezed the life out of Meriel. “It’ll be me that will live forever, taking my rightful place as ruler of-”

Nithroel’s gloating speech was cut off mid-rant as Thalia plunged her long dagger into her sister’s back. The mortally wounded noblewoman cried out in agony as the blade pierced through her heart, and she could only stare in mute horror at the bloody tip that now protruded from her chest.

“Don’t you mean my rightful place?” Thalia whispered softly in her sister’s pointed ear.

“Glurkkk...” Nithroel gurgled, her final words drowned out in a fountain of blood.

Shoving her mortally wounded sibling aside, Thalia saw gratitude in her mother’s eyes, a look that changed to terror when Meriel saw the gleeful anticipation on her eldest daughter’s face.

“Thalia ... I-I can ... explain!” she pleaded through wheezing coughs.

“The time of listening to your lies is over, mother,” Thalia declared, brandishing the jewelled dagger and letting her sister’s blood drip onto Meriel’s face. “Nithroel was right about one thing ... there’ll be no immortality for you.”

The panting matriarch clawed frantically at the carpet, her eyes locked on the door leading to her personal armoury as she tried to drag herself across the office.

Thalia smiled, shaking her head in amusement as she strode ahead to cut her off. Standing directly in front of Meriel, she sneered in contempt at the leader of House Romenor. “Ah, so desperate to cling to life ... I’d wager Baen’thelas made quite the impression, didn’t he mother? I shall so enjoy being mated with him, especially knowing that you never sullied his bedchamber.”

Meriel’s bleak expression turned to one of surprise, then she stopped crawling and lay her head on the plush carpet in weary resignation. Her chest began to shake as she laughed, her mirth coming out in wheezing chuckles.