Chapter 7 - Power Plays

Merek stood alone in the courtyard next to the body of the king. She had dismissed the fire tenders who were charged with desiccating his remains. The king had been a hard traditionalist, and since drying his internal organs would take months on this fate-forsaken planet, they had built a small ring of fire under him. Already his ornately embroidered carapace was blackened with soot.

Another concubine entered the courtyard. She, like Merek, wore a traditional mourning cloak, which completely covered them from head to claw.

“I am Merek, the dead kings most favored one,” she said to her unknown sister, “I seek to grieve in solace with him. Now go.”

The other concubine continued forward heedless of Merek’s command. Merek, already grief stricken, became infuriated at the seeming deafness of her sister. She stood to her full height; ready to commence combat.

“Know your allies.”

Her sister clicked the old proverb in a distinctly male tone. The traditional denial of combat she had expected, but the male voice took her by surprise. She hunched back to her proper status; mostly due to the reply, but partially due to curiosity.

Her sister walked up next to her and gave quiet tribute to the fallen king. Merek turned to stand beside her sister and faced the king herself.

“Does the prospect of carrying prince Wikki’s spawn sit well with you, Merek?”

The voice was absolutely male. Its tone carried an inflection of hate as it said the prince’s name.

“The prince has declared himself king by right of fate. The people are in chaos, and will follow anyone who leads them. Some believe that the grate fate himself spared his-”

“What do you believe?” interrupted her sister.

Merek paused. She truly didn’t know what to think. Wikki would no doubt allot his own set of concubines, and she would be exiled. A fate that did not sit well with her.

“The future looks uncertain for me and my spawn,” she resigned, “Fate does not look favorably upon me at the moment.”

“The grate fate may still hold you in his favor,” the other said, “I need only know of your continued alliance to our king's wishes for me to help.”

Merek knew this was a trick. If she said yes she could be killed right here and now; no reason for exile would have to be made. If she said no, then she would betray her beloved king, and might very well face the wrath of her sisters. Quietly pulling a dagger from its hidden sheath, she turned to face her adversary.

“My alliance will always be with the king you see before us, even unto death!” she hissed as she lunged towards the unknown person next to her. It was obvious to her, even before the dagger had begun to pierce her cloak, that she had made a mistake. Her opponent was expecting the attack, and with a sharp blow to her wrist knocked the blade out of her claw and onto the ground. It landed on the hard-packed earth with a soft thunk.

There was a pause as the two stood within touching distance, neither of them moving. Only then did Merek catch the slightest whiff of the male’s musk. It was immediately familiar. Merek hissed in surprise.

“Like I said, m’lady,” he repeated softly, “Know your allies.”

“But... they told me...” Merek stammered.

“I knew if Wikki survived outside the gates, he would call for my death. I placed my armor and weapons on one of the dead, and hid in the palace.”

I ray of hope flickered in Merek’s voice, “And what of Quee?”

The other form stood silently for a moment. Looking around to insure their privacy, he said, “Her death is also a farce; but it does not bode well for her. Wikki captured her and is keeping her in his chambers. Since he has already announced her death, I can only believe that he plans to follow through with it.”

Merek understood why Wikki would keep her alive, while telling the city she was dead. With her death, Wikki could void the agreement between his father and the fallen king. There would be no truce. However, Quee had been the kings confidant on many matters, and Merek knew Wikki would do anything to get that information.

“I do not judge the great fate for taking the king,” said Merek, “It is too late for me to do so. However, I challenge his choice of leadership for our city.”

“As do I, m’lady. As do I.”

“What must I do?”

“Wikki has said that he plans to interrogate the slaves within the day. How he will do this is only known by him. When he does this, you will go to his chamber, dispatch his valet, and find Quee. I am certain that once the city sees your daughter alive that Wikki will loose favor.”

Merek clicked in agreement. As her guest turned to leave, she reached down and picked up the dagger that had been forced from her grip. “Kek,” she whispered.

The other paused.

“If the great fate decides to take Wikki for his own, the city will need a new leader.”

“I have made many enemies in my time,” he replied.

Merek walked back up towards her quarters, passing the other one who stood still.

“Know your allies,” she said, and went inside.