Chapter 15

Queen Marcella was in her private receiving room.

She was lying on her side on an ornate and gilded chaise lounge propped up on several firm pillows. A small, low table was in front of her with several gold-edged, fine ceramic bowls containing delicacies and fruits. A jewelled silver goblet and a silver jug of watered wine were beside the bowls.

Several metres from her was a semi-circle seat. The base was 40cm high and 60cm deep. A 15cm wide, 70cm high wall was behind the seat to provide a backrest. On the seat were piles of rich, tapestry covered cushions of various sizes for her guests. A 4m wide, plush rug with a sea scene woven into it was between Marcella’s chaise and the chair.

Marcella was thrumming her fingers on the small glass-topped table when another set of guards let Catia and her entourage into the room. Mathus and Julia automatically bowed low from the waist. Catia nodded her head but didn’t bow like the others.

Boyd wasn’t sure which was appropriate for him, so he followed Mathus and bowed from the waist. He stood up again when they did. He had moved to stand beside Mathus while Julia had taken Catia’s other side.

“I can only assume you have heard of the disaster today to be here,” barked the Queen at Catia as she waved them to the seat.

Marcella didn’t like people standing over her. She tried to suppress her ire as she waited for Catia to be seated and to answer her.

Boyd took an instant dislike to the woman. He wasn’t even sure why. He expected a Queen to be a little arrogant, but this woman seemed to be blaming Catia for what had happened, and that didn’t sit right with him.

Once seated, Catia replied, “Actually, I came to see you on a related matter but not the incident in particular. If anything, it only reinforces what I believe must happen before any more slaves from Earth are released.”

Marcella swung her legs to the floor and sat up, all in one well-practised move to make her look elegant and coordinated. She eyed Catia and then flicked her gaze over Julia and Mathus before she settled on Boyd. She frowned as she looked at the tall earthman.

“Why did you bring your slave here?” she growled in displeasure.

“He is the reason we must have a High Senate meeting urgently,” Catia replied in an even voice, not even hinting at her displeasure with her Queen.

Marcella sighed dramatically, “Why, what did he do to upset you, wizard?”

Catia replied, “Well, he dared to become a High Mage, is all.”

Marcella bit back her catty reply and said instead, “How in the hells of Hades did he do that?”

“Well, it seems that we did too good of a job when we made the medallions. It seems that an entity can join with them. It can assess the person’s abilities and assign the skills that that person can learn to the medallion.”

Catia turned to Boyd, “I hate to do this to you again, Boyd, but would you mind showing Queen Marcella your medallion, please?”

He stood back up and stepped forward. He then bent down to show Marcella his medallion after he asked it to appear.

Marcella was amazed to see the medallion appear and the four symbols of power that it now had etched on the surface.

“Surely this is a fake?” she declared.

“You can touch it,” Boyd informed her.

He was surprised when she snatched her hand away from the medallion after only touching it briefly. His entity didn’t seem pleased with the Queen. For Boyd, that sealed her fate as far as his trust of the woman went. He stepped back and returned to his seat beside Mathus.

Marcella struggled to gain her composure. “Be that as it may, it doesn’t change anything,” she proclaimed.

“According to our laws, yes, it does, Your Majesty. Our laws state that non-Therians that gain a magical item must also be treated as a person of that rank. Also, they can’t be a slave or an indentured servant,” Julia stated.

Marcella frowned at the last statement. She might not be the brightest bulb in the packet, but she was a politician through and through. Boyd wasn’t aware that her position was not hereditary. It was more like being a Prime Minister or President of a country.

She had been voted into power like every other senator. She had to fight for her position every six years. So far, her support base had kept her as the top dog for thirty years.

However, recent deaths and some of the up-and-coming candidates, especially from the other islands, had eroded her hold on power at the previous two elections. She had agreed to the insane scheme to bring the earthlings here to gain popularity with the masses and keep her job.

She was well aware that the lack of children being born was an issue that worried everyone. They were an aging population and those who had never had the chance to have a child had pushed the project ahead.

Now she was being told that the people they had brought here to save her race didn’t want to be broodmares and studs. The ungrateful sods would be dead if they were left on their world. They had given them a new life, and they had repaid that gift by beating up her guards.