Imperialist: The Voyage

Chapter Thirteen; Deadly Fog

Moutassim tossed and turned, grasping for an elusive sleep that kept slipping away. Neither Sahelia nor Tigrita was talking to him. He still believed that he had done the right thing regarding Sahelia. But the beautiful Mathusian, he wasn't so sure.

He finally got up, his bones seemingly creaking in sync with the ship and went to where Tigrita was curled up under the covers. Moutassim stood there watching her for several minutes or so, the gentle rise and fall of her breasts as she breathed, her broad yet somehow still feminine shoulders. Her exquisite face was in shadows, but her blond hair gleamed even in the dimness. He sighed and turned to go.

"What is it?" Tigrita asked, raising up on one elbow and rubbing her eyes.

"I didn't mean to wake you," he dropped to one knee, a sheepish smile playing at his lips."It's just, I can't sleep."

"Oh..." She yawned. "That's too bad."

They stared at each other. Moutassim smiled, but Tigrita suddenly rolled her eyes and lay down again, this time with her back turned to him.

"Decide what you want my emperor," she said sleepily. "An assistant or a friend. I have no wish to be told again that I must know my place."

Moutassim rocked back on his heels, his mind searching for a response but coming up blank. Women, other than his wife, giving him the cold shoulder was a unique experience. Chewing the inside of his lip, Moutassim looked up for inspiration.

It was then that he noticed the fog slowly surrounding his ship, it's smoky tendrils wrapping around the cog's single sail and blotting out the starry sky. He looked around, but all he was greeted with was more fog, the shadowy outline of his nearby ships growing fainter and fainter until they disappeared entirely.

Where the hell did this fog come from, Moutassim thought in annoyance. Had he been so engrossed in watching Tigrita sleep that he hadn't noticed it creeping in?

Moutassim looked around for his navigator, Soth. And that was when he heard a scream pierce the thick fog.

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Torment and anguish were familiar companions for Kelita. That and her favourite bottle of wine. As the empress sat on the balcony with her glass of wine clutched in her trembling hand and thought about the council meeting, she hugged her companions closer.

"As we all know, the empress is without child," Strackon had said, looking around the council table with a smug look on his face. "We don't know if the emperor will return. We can't leave the future of the empire to chance. We must come to a decision on who will succeed Moutassim if harm befalls him and his brother. I propose rotation of the Imperial throne between each vassal king, annually."

Everyone, including Kelita, had stared at Strackon, stunned that he would have the balls to bring up the subject in front of the empress. Strackon had scoffed and looked at Morabi.

"Oh, don't act so surprised Morabi. You yourself have had much concern regarding the succession."

Kelita had rounded on her chief minister.

"You! You have been talking to Strackon behind my back? About replacing my husband? This is treason!"

Morabi had immediately raised his hands in protest.

"Your majesty, I did no such thing! Strackon is mistaken!"

"I don't believe you," Kelita had pushed back her chair and risen, the sound of the legs scraping across the stone floor loudly reverberating around the room. Agdel had gotten up as well. "You have always had it in for me, whispering your poison in my husband's ear about taking another wife. Ensuring the succession."

Kelita had looked around the table, her eyes boring into Strackon's.

"This meeting is at an end." She had proclaimed, before storming out with Agdel at her side.

Kelita had not left her rooms, not even to eat, since returning from the meeting. She remained steeped in her desire for vengeance against Morabi. And thoughts about why she was unable to bear children. Was something wrong with her? Scratch that, of course something was wrong with her. But why her?

Am I not good for the empire?

The knocking on the door jarred Kelita from her self pity. She attempted to straighten in her chair, just as the door swung open and Agdel strode in. Kelita spotted Sheba lying peacefully outside the door, before it swung shut. Although she shouldn't be surprised. Besides herself and Moutassim, Agdel was the only human being who could pet the notoriously cranky lioness without getting their hand chomped off. Just as he was the only one who could enter her sanctuary like this other than her husband.

As Agdel came closer, she saw that he was dressed for battle in his armoured breastplate and red robes, the hilts of his customary double broadswords rising behind his broad shoulders from their harnesses. He cut a dashing figure, she thought idly. There was a time, long before Moutassim, when his father wanted to arrange marriage between her and Agdel. Would their friendship have survived marriage? She doubted it.

"Oh cousin," Agdel clucked his tongue in disapproval and extricated the wine glass from her grip. "You should be sleeping, not drinking yourself to death."

"Spoilsport," she muttered, biting her nails to hide the smile threatening to break out. "How go the preparations?"

"We're about ready to march," Agdel said, pushing open the windows to let in the cool night breeze. "I just stopped by to check up on you."

"Oh Agdel," she sighed. A tear trickled down her cheek. "What am I doing here? Why didn't I stay in Genda, where my barrenness would not have such huge political repercussions? I feel like a burden on my husband, on the court."

Agdel immediately dropped to one knee next to her chair, taking her hand in his huge paws and squeezing.

"Don't you dare talk like that!" He hissed, looking up at her with furrowed brows. "Your marriage to Moutassim was of great benefit to Genda. It put us on the map, made us and Adrega first among equals in the empire. As for Moutassim, he became the luckiest man in the empire when he married you. Who in this empire could match your grace, your beauty, your wit?"

"My temper," she said sadly. "I feel like if... sometimes I push him away when I get angry. But it's like I see threats everywhere. Women hungry to take my spot... bear him children."

"Give it time, cousin, give it time," he patted her hand. "One day, your children will be the playmates of my children. Hopefully, they come before my sons are grown up with kids of their own though."

They chuckled at this and Kelita wiped her cheek. As she gave him her best watery smile, she noticed for the first time the strands of grey in his goatee.

"How are they? Aldreth and Adrian? Don't you miss them? When last have you been to Genda to see them?"

"Of course I miss them," Agdel rose and picked up the wine bottle to put it up. "But the empire needs me. When we settle Bremon and things calm down, I'll go and see them. It's been a couple of months since I've gone."

"Take me with you when you go," she joked. They laughed and then Agdel got serious.

"In the council room, when Strackon asked about Sahelia," he paused. "You know where she is, don't you?"

Kelita suddenly wished he hadn't taken away her wine bottle.

"Let it go cousin," she sighed. "I don't want to argue with you, of all people, tonight of all nights."

He opened his mouth to say something, but then seemed to think better of it. Then he tried again.

"So you're still not gonna tell me why you hate your sister so much?"

"Nope."

Agdel sighed and started for the door, resting his hand on her shoulder as he passed and squeezing. She held his hand and felt reassurance. He stopped at the door.

"Don't be too hard on Morabi," he said. "He is one hundred per cent loyal to the empire. That is and always has been his priority."

She inclined her head.

"I'll take it under consideration, General," was all she said. And then he was gone.