Chapter Fifteen

 

The Vulcan’s expression never shifted by so much as a millimeter; a stillness which normally would have been significant only to someone who knew him very well.  Standing in a room full of ZaworthIan telepaths made for the difference, resulting in blunter conversation.

 

“I beg of thee, Commander Spock, hold thou thy anger.  I admit, we were remiss in not telling thee sooner, and thou didst order thy ship away, but thou art not marooned.  An thou wish, we ourselves shalt send thee to her,” a’Dme volunteered in her cool, lovely voice, a caress on every ear and mind.  “Neither didst we betray Ysaulte, as I perceive thou art thinking.  As much as we could, we tried to allow the one to make her own choices.  It is true, we knew of Q’rin razS a’Man, believing his freedom Ysaulte’s task.  Whatever else has occurred, we were not expecting.”

 

Appreciating this, without being pacified, Spock made no reply.  The oldest woman, frail and thin, stepped forward to address him.

 

“I am Eyra.  The Lady e’Sherea, Ysaulte’s mother, was my child, my daughter.  We did not tell Ysaulte of Q’rin, because we wanted for her freedom of refusal, as well.  Had we told her, she might have tried solving that problem just on our asking.  We had no wish to risk Ysaulte.”

 

 “But that’s exactly what you did,” Bones accused them all.  “You don’t know what she’s been through.”

 

“We know what the Senator did,” Ysidra retorted, stung.  “He__”

 

“The Senator is the least of it,” Spock interrupted grimly, in what for him was nearly an outburst.  “Accept there is more than you know.  To release razS a’Man, Ysaulte had to bring us here__”

 

“Ten thousand Standard years into ZaworthIa’s past,” Dyer added with some anger.  “This Hall was a walled palace then, a’d’Kef’dn with its Fire Throne, home to the Zaltana Akilah.”

 

“Ysaulte met her,” McCoy took this as his cue.  “She was commanded to do it, commanded to act__”

 

“By the spoken word of our Mother Za… the force of our world,” Anthe realized, understanding and well impressed.  “So made Ysaulte Zaltana, as in legend, yet in all those legends there doth ever be a price.”

 

“And there was this time, too,” the doctor noted bleakly, his gaze on that end of the Hall where the Fire Throne once sat.  “Still is, I guess, although Jim’s delayed payment.  Ysaulte had to live through it all with Akilah.  Matope’s destruction, flood, fire, and the razing of the palace, as well as the creation of Radomil__”

 

“You are familiar with this particular legend?”  Spock inquired, eyes dark with memories of the expression on Jim’s face, his anguish, and their own… it deserved acknowledgement.  “We were allowed to see it happening, called, perhaps to witness, as ZaworthIa Herself begged aShaiLan for his blood… through Ysaulte.  She died catching the Daysword thrown.”

 

Someone gasped, and Spock almost regretted speaking so baldly.  McCoy stayed beside him, deflecting part of the Sisters’ horror onto himself.

 

“I’m a doctor, not a metaphysicist, so I can’t begin to explain it.  I can only tell you, Ysaulte is alive.”  He smiled, remembering that impossible miracle of resurrection.  “Jim asked the Mother to bring her back.”

 

“Sah’des ka,” Anthe whispered, relieved yet amazed.

 

“It was unbelievable, but you can believe it.  You’d better believe it,” Bones warned, a caution in his tone the ZaworthIans had to hear.

 

“We do,” the K’intohrza assured.  “I wouldst thou believe me.  The sha’deh du Khyn wilt honor whatever Ysaulte chooses to do.”  Anthe bowed again, head down, hands out, to honor them.  “Friends hath thou been to the one, and more than worthy.  Truth tellers.  When Ysaulte named thee ours, claiming James as her bond-companion, we feared for her judgement.  I hope thou wilt forgive us, for ours?”

 

“She will, so how can we do less,” the Vulcan returned with unusual gallantry.  “As for the Romulan Fleet__”

 

“An thou believe thine own tale, and Ysaulte Zaltana, hath we no reason for concern,” Ysidra pointed out, drawing Spock’s lifted eyebrow.

 

“Even so,” he said, deliberately using the native language.  All four ZaworthIan women shook their heads.

 

“I must say,” Anthe grinned, “I simply cannot wait to meet James.”

 

***

 

“There is a place I would you see, beloved.”

 

“Then take me there.  I like your transporter.  It’s faster than mine.”

 

“Huh.  Getting spoiled?”

 

Jim laughed, and Ysaulte wished them east, instantaneously.  If he’d had any doubts about the century, the sight of the wall-less Hall in the westering distance dispelled them. 

 

“Spock, Bones, and Dyer are there?”

 

“Involved in quite the discussion, yes,” Ysaulte confirmed.  “They are fine.  The Circle makes them welcome, with many questions.”

 

“I guess someone’s told Spock by now.”

 

“That the Rihannsu approach to orbit our world?  Yes.  And neither Enterprise so far away as Muuye.  There is no danger, beloved.”

 

“You don’t have to tell me that.  I wasn’t worried.  Not about my ship, anyway.”

 

“What, then?”

 

“ZaworthIa, and the Federation.  You definitely won’t be joining.”

 

“I rather think Za has no wish for it,” she sighed.  “I am sorry.”

 

“Don’t be.  This whole thing’s been a lesson for us all.  The Federation isn’t ready for this world.  Maybe you’ll try again, in a couple of hundred years.”

 

“Or a couple of thousand,” Ysaulte said wryly, leading him around a grove of trees.  Within a clearing, a circular patch of grass grew white as a starship’s skin; somehow catching the afternoon sun in rainbow sparks of light.  Jim crouched closer to investigate, taken aback to find what appeared to be tiny crystals embedded in each blade.

 

“In Yutkiye’s day, this was all plains, but over time Nahele forest closes in,” his Lady explained, startling him to comprehension.

 

“Then this is where__”

 

“It is.  Here the place where Yutkiye and Thanasios raised their tent, shared their bond then lost it, with Yutkiye her life.”

 

“And the crystals are her tears,” Jim divined, and Ysaulte knelt beside him, raising one hand to his face.

 

“So perceptive.  When aShaiLan soars to zenith, as was on Yutkiye’s passing, the glitter casts light until the world seems washed in color.  The one left great beauty in her sacrifice.”

 

“As you did, my Lady.”  Indicating with a short wave their surroundings, Jim paid silent tribute to the fair and living countryside, far-off ha’limeda a shining ribbon underneath a pure, clear tourmaline sky.  He had tremendous respect for the act of will that regenerated this land, and out of that respect spoke his heart.

 

“I couldn’t let what we have be taken from us, not even by death.  Not yet.  This is our season,” he said, falling into the fire of her irises, reflecting.

 

“What?”  Too undone by what she felt inside Jim, Ysaulte couldn’t follow his reference.  “’Our season’?”

 

“Ours,” Jim promised, the range of perception shared with touch and mind, amplifying the sensations between them, like it always did.  “’This is the season of love, when we believe that we alone can love, that no one could ever have loved before us, and no one will love in the same way after us’.  A Terran named Goethe wrote that over four centuries ago.”

 

“So arrogant,” she murmured, lost in his eyes and totally distracted by his skin, his scent, and his warmth.  “I like it.”

 

“You deserve arrogance, my Lady Zaltana.”

 

“Is that what I am?”  Ysaulte wondered with mild curiosity, not able to concentrate on anything but him.

 

“I think you must be,” Jim answered serenely, laying her down on the grass; a softness he had never felt on a hundred worlds, incandescence in every visible spectrum rising around them.  “Fire Queen, child of fire,” he added, talking mostly just for the sheer joy of moving his lips over hers.

 

“And thou, then, my poet Zaltan’ohr, James,” she named him out loud for the same reason, wishing rid of their clothing in the same breath.

 

“Oh,” he sighed as she ran her hands over him.  “I… ah, yes… I couldn’t presume… ”

 

“Please, James, do thou presume.  After all, thou art master of all space and time, yes?  Reach, thou sorcerer, and hold the hour… and master me,” she challenged suggestively, making him laugh.

 

“Surely, Ysaulte, that’s not possible,” he said into her mind, and proceeded to try.

 

***

 

Hour held, they lazed in the sunshine, content.  Jim levered himself onto his elbows to watch Ysaulte’s face, always fascinated by her eyes, which glowed in eternal, faithful blues.  Zaltana’s irises.

 

“The Romulans were only a small part of it, really,” he mused, driven to consider a future she controlled.  “Your people were losing their faith, and that’s why Za needs you to lead them back to it.  Your task, and you have to stay to see it through.  I could__”

 

“No, beloved.”  She put her hands over his mouth and stopped the words if not the thought behind his impulsive offer.  “I perceive thou almost couldst, and almost happy being… but thy stars and thy ship await thee, James, and thou art needed there.”  It was a truth she had seen by her Mother's grace, the information that James was necessary to his own world, and could not stay with her on hers.  The knowledge produced pain she could not bear to admit, so she ignored it in favor of living in the moments she had left with him.

 

“So you’re going to send me away?”  Jim asked, thinking of Yutkiye and banished Thanasios.  “Bond sundered, ‘tchen’hath sheres?”

 

“If you wish it, our ties unsundered, more… suspended.  We might yet have the next life, and the next ten thousand years__”

 

“__if we can learn sufficient patience,” he finished for her, realizing an awareness of spirits drawn to witness: Tohr and Tohrza together still.  Their psionic presence stirred the mental wind, fading to leave an overwhelming sense of peace that lay across the clearing like a guarantee.

 

“If we want it badly enough, we can have that.”

 

“Yes,” Ysaulte answered, although it had not been a question.  “I believe we can.”

 

“So do I,” Jim smiled, trusting in forever.

 

Fiercely satisfied with her Fire King’s confidence, Ysaulte’h du’Zaltana drew him back into her arms, not yet ready for their autumn.

 

***

 

In the Hall, the ZaworthIans had fed their visitors, shown them to an area where they could clean themselves up, provided fresh clothing and ushered them into a sitting area on the west side of the erstwhile throne room. 

 

Anthe turned from a window and wished it away, making it once more into featureless stone.  She was watched with open curiosity, and the K’intohrza shrugged, amused.

 

“Sunset seems overlong in coming,” she reported, carefully ignoring Ysidra’s wicked grin lest she behave inappropriately and shock the guests.  What Anthe wanted to do, what she would have done were she alone, was jump up and down and laugh.  She recognized the proof in Za’s slowed revolution, as her Sisters did.  Ysaulte truly lived as Zaltana, and Anthe was pleased.

 

“I suppose we could blame the Rihannsu,” Ysidra dared tease, while a’Dme and Eyra hid their mouths with their hands so they wouldn’t offend the Vulcan with so much smiling.

 

“I didn’t think ZaworthIans measured time, anyway,” McCoy commented with his own blue-eyed grin, just to show them nobody was fooled.

 

“Huh.”  Anthe surprised herself by blushing, something she hadn’t done in a hundred Standard years, and her three Sisters gave up their self-control to cackle like Terran hens.

 

“One wonders how the… delay… appears to the Romulans,” Spock remarked dryly, and set them to laughing out loud, the K’intohrza included.

 

“You may rest assured we will not find it this amusing,” a voice said from the door.  Marlak tr’Ahkennsai stood within the Hall, blaster out and barrel trained on Dyer.

 

“How in blazes__”

 

“Quiet, please, Doctor McCoy.  I understand your surprise,” the Senator commiserated with his usual smooth calm.  “I do not wish to sound rude, but I quite exhausted the limits of my control in simply getting here.  Really, I am surprised.  It should not have been possible.”

 

“Yet here you are,” Dyer returned evenly, fixing the Rihannsu in crystal gaze.

 

“I don’t know you, boy, and perhaps you don’t know me, but I will kill you if you don’t shut up,” Marlak announced, stalking into the room.  Now they could see the wildness in him, not so very calm at that.  “If you want to blame someone, blame your precious Aesaulte’h.  Where is she?”

 

The ZaworthIan Sisters did not, could not answer, standing stern and shielded and far more formidable than four slender women should have been.  Marlak sniffed, his aim never wavering.

 

“I realize I cannot expect an answer from them.  Why didn’t you leave with your ship, Spock?”  Frowning, the Senator looked at the two Star Fleet officers.  “If you are here, Kirk must be here too.  With Aesaulte’h somewhere, I suppose.  Where?”

 

“Why is it so important that you find her?”  Spock asked.

 

“I’ve got a deal to offer her,” Marlak startled them again by replying, taking a chair that put his back to the wall.  He rested his weapon on one crossed knee, still directing it at the boy.  However distraught the Rihannsu might be, his hands were steady as a rock.

 

“What kind of deal?”  McCoy kept his tone low and nonthreatening, hoping to stall for time at least, while Spock moved ever so slowly in front of Dyer.

 

“It does not matter if you know… and Mister Spock,” he adjusted a setting on his blaster, “I’ll shoot right through you if I must.”

 

The Vulcan’s eyebrow went up, but he remained in front of Dyer.

 

 Marlak chuckled.

 

“Don’t you love their nobility?”  He asked the ZaworthIans, who again declined to respond.  “I want dear cousin Aesaulte’h to get rid of my nightmares.  In return, I’ll take the Fleet away.  Simple as that.”

 

“Sounds like blackmail to me,” Dyer noted, peering around from behind Spock.

 

“It would,” Marlak said, shrugging.  “Who cares what you think?  Now, for the last time, where is she?”

 

“Good question,” the doctor muttered, wishing he knew.

 

***

 

“Ysaulte__”

 

“I know.   I perceive their disturbance, too.”  She pulled herself out of Jim’s arms with a huge sigh.  “Marlak is making more trouble.”

 

“You don’t sound very worried,” Jim couldn’t help but laugh, listening to her wonder what she’d done with their clothes.

 

“After what we have been through this day, hardly.”  Ysaulte wished them dressed instead; her Zaltan’ohr in his black and gold, and she in the borrowed Muuyean blue.  “It’s terribly lazy to do it this way, but we had better get there, before Leonard or Dyer behave imprudently.”

 

“Not Spock?”

 

“Are you kidding?”  She fingercombed her hair, then his, hands lingering on his face.  “He could have waited… just a little longer.”

 

Jim knew who she meant.  He held her for a moment while they both tried to reconcile themselves to the coming changes.

 

“Are we ready?”  He asked finally, fingers under Ysaulte’s chin to tilt her head up.  She allowed herself another sigh, then nodded.

 

“We must be, I fear.”  She forced a smile to hide a pain she could not possibly hide from him, and Jim let her do it, to hide his own.

 

“Are we going to… walk right in?”  He inquired with a sadness he didn’t realize, memories heavy on his mind.

 

“No, Za willing__”

 

__and the Mother was, taking them to stand in front of the Hall beside the stone columns that marked the place where hakan gate had blazed.  Also sitting there was an extremely large haidar.  Fully grown, it got up on seeing them and padded over.

 

“Oh, it’s you, Ysaulte,” it silently observed, inspecting both of them closely.  “Welcome home.”

 

“My thanks, Aleser.  Art thee and thine well?”

 

“We are.  This is your bond mate?”

 

“Yes.  This is James.”

 

“Welcome, James.”  The haidar politely showed him a mouth full of fangs, and Jim thanked it bemusedly.

 

“Ysaulte, a Rihannsu passed this way, and before him, two starmen with a child.  I would have stopped them, but they all knew enough to find the door, so I thought they must be guests.  There are so many outworlders among us these days,” it complained, but spared a mental wink for Jim.  “Have I erred?”  It asked.

 

“Not at all.  As for the outworlders, I intend to remedy that.”

 

“Can you?”  Aleser asked doubtfully, green eyes on Jim with the obvious question.

 

“Believe it,” he found himself promising the haidar, who bared its teeth again in that odd grin.

 

“I shall,” it said consideringly, stare cast on Ysaulte now.  “I sense something in you, Sister.”

 

“I… plan to raise the walls, Aleser.”

 

“But that would mean you__”  Aleser arched its back and hissed, in what Jim recognized as an involuntary reaction, “__you are Zaltana!”  It accused with a yowl that almost split their eardrums before Ysaulte wished quiet.

 

“Enough.  I am… Zaltana,” she confirmed gently, prepared to accept her claim to that title.  She could do no less.  The acceptance, like the claim, was burned into her soul.

 

The haidar sat, hard, haunches sending up a puff of dust.

 

“I had not expected to see this in my lifetime,” it thought, sounding so much like Silivia of Muuye Jim had to muffle his amusement.

 

“Is it not well with thee, milk brother?”  Ysaulte held out her arms to the felinoid, which shoved its great head into her chest, nearly pushing her over.  Ysaulte wrapped her arms around its neck and buried her face in its fur; a scene that would have terrified Jim had he been unaware of Aleser’s devotion to his Lady… and it still gave him pause.

 

“Of course, it is well, Ysaulte,” the haidar decided.  “Go, then, and take your due.  We shall attend you.”

 

“Thank you, again, dear Aleser.”

 

The haidar drew back and bounded away, disappearing over the fields with a speed that impressed Jim.

 

“Milk brother?”

 

“When I was but small, Aleser was my constant companion.  There are no better baby-tenders than haidar… his mother suckled us both,” she told him, half-afraid his sensibilities might be outraged.

 

Jim shook his head as they approached the Hall.

 

“For some reason, it doesn’t surprise me at all.”

 

He stopped Ysaulte before she could touch the stone wall and put his hands on her shoulders.

 

“I know this is a selfish question, but can’t your Sisters handle Marlak.”

 

“At need, of course.  I remind you, Marlak is my responsibility.”

 

“I remember.”  He held her for one more unhurried kiss.  “Do you have a plan?”  He asked, just to see the emerald laughter fill her eyes.

 

“You don’t?”  Ysaulte inquired with mock horror, smiling as she laid her palm on the wall.

 

“We don’t need one,” Jim said and put his hand over hers.  Opening the portal in the stone, they walked into the Hall holding hands, invulnerable, and knowing it as they entered the little sitting area.

 

“So there you are, Aesaulte’h.  I was becoming impatient,” the Senator drawled, the first to speak, although he found it an effort.  The ZaworthIan fair glittered, stars caught in her eyes and hair.  The starship captain was equally glorious in his proud and upright posture.  Marlak comforted himself with the fact that everyone seemed as startled as he… particularly when his alien cousin turned to him and spoke.

 

“A moment, Senator, please.”

 

Frozen by this perfect courtesy, the Rihannsu could only nod.

 

Ysaulte went to her Sisters, ignoring Marlak and the weapon he still held on Spock and Dyer.

 

“a’K’intohrza,” she bowed formally.  “May I present he who is my life.  My bondmate, James du’Enterprise.”  With the drawing room manners befitting a diplomat, Ysaulte introduced the four Ladies, Anthe first, Eyra last.

 

“How pleased we art to meet thee in body as in spirit, James,” Anthe greeted in the voice unspoken, while Eyra and Ysidra stepped up and hugged them both.  Jim looked for and got two quick nods from his friends, signifying their reassurances… the kind of silent byplay that could never go unnoticed here.

 

“They are well, James.  We should not have let any ill befall them,” Ysidra told him, disarmed when the starlord grinned at her shamefacedly.

 

“I’m sorry, Lady Protector.  It’s compulsive, I’m afraid, and Lady Anthe, the pleasure is mine,” he nodded, lowering his head to the K’intohrza.  “It’s good to be here… in body.”  They smiled at each other in perfect understanding, then Anthe set her gaze on Ysaulte.

 

The younger woman knelt in front of the Elder, leaning her head back to bare her throat.  Invited, Anthe reached out and rested two fingertips on her skin.  Jim shut his eyes and felt the K’intohrza take Ysaulte’s thoughts, the view by mind brilliant and true, as Ysaulte related (with a few personal exceptions) everything that had happened to them in the last two days.

 

“Thy judgment, beloved?”  Ysaulte wondered the ritual question, and Anthe drew her to stand, touching her forehead to Ysaulte’s.

 

“Judgment thine, a’hava Zaltana,” whispered she who knew All.  A sigh stirred every listener with the admitted abdication, the former K’intohrza straightening to add the traditional response.  “Thine, as art we.”

 

“Anthe.”  Ysaulte kissed her, a caress every one of them felt heart deep… even poor Marlak, who was seized by the dawning suspicion of his own unimportance.

 

“Aesaulte’h!  We have business to discuss!”

 

“Do we?”  She did no more than look at him, and the Senator discovered he could not move nor speak… trapped in her night sky eyes.  “Are you fool enough to think you have business with me?”

 

“You are the fool, Aesaulte’h!  Hear me or die!”  Marlak forced out hoarsely, trembling all over with his efforts to fight his own fear.

 

“You are melodramatic, Senator.”  Ysaulte turned her back to him with insulting disregard, putting herself between his weapon and Spock.  The Rihannsu’s finger tightened on the blaster’s firing button in pure rage, disruptive energy streaming swiftly, only to be caught in Ysaulte’s upraised hand and wished into nonexistence.  With her next whim went the blaster itself, as well as the dagger Marlak wore in his boot.

 

“Mark this, and know thou wilt go next an thou persist.”

 

“You can’t__”

 

“But I can, Marlak,” Ysaulte winked at Dyer, who grinned at her with a satisfaction his elders found hard to equal.  She went to the child and gave him a quick squeeze, turning to Spock for a brief touch of paired fingers, bearing his silent inspection, and then greeting McCoy with a kiss on the cheek.  “All is well, friends,” she reassured before turning back to Marlak.

 

“What sort of business do you think we have, Rihannsu?”

 

“What?  I__ the Fleet, Aesaulte’h.  The Fleet orbits your world__”

 

“This I know.”

 

“__and waits for my orders!”  The Senator blustered.  “I will order them to attack, or I can take them away__”

 

“Your orders?  Where then tr’Arriellus?”  Focusing her will to seek, Ysaulte farsent reconnaissance.  When she returned her attentions, her irises were space black and cold, damnation written in her stare.

 

“What didst thou do to the one, Marlak?  Stole thou his place, with no more consideration for our fathers’ father than any stranger, robbing him even of sanity?”  Breath hissing out of her, Ysaulte shook her head.  “Didst thou presume to think I would not care?”

 

“I… he…”  Marlak’s mouth worked but no sound emerged under the deadly glare of her suddenly Rihannsu gaze.

 

“Ysaulte, bring your grandfather here and let us help him,” Jim directed quietly, saving the Senator’s life for the third time that week, and proving to a galaxy of witnesses the quality of the bonds shared with his Zaltana.  Not to mention the quality of his compassion.

 

“My Zaltan’ohr, an excellent suggestion.”

 

Reaching within, Ysaulte asked her Mother Za to make it so… and before their fascinated eyes a figure took form, materializing into an unconscious, elderly Romulan man, lying spare and motionless on the floor.

 

“tr’Arriellus, he of legend here,” Bone said softly, quoting something he’d heard Ysaulte say once.  He crouched beside the old man and checked him over, Anthe herself joining him.  “I can’t do anything for him, Ysaulte.  He’s deeply catatonic.”

 

“I know, Leonard.”  Going to her knees next to McCoy, Ysaulte hesitated, inspecting the features of her kinsman and finding them familiar.

 

“Does he remind you of your father?”  Bones asked, thinking tr’Arriellus very like an older Sarek of Vulcan.

 

“Had my father the chance to live to these years, perhaps,” Ysaulte answered without looking at Marlak.  “James__”

 

“Make it right, Ysaulte.  Make him well,” Jim encouraged, hands on her shoulders.

 

“Yes.”  She laid her fingers on the Rihannsu’s throat and slipped into his thoughts, cutting away the scars inflicted by her cousin’s mental tortures and meeting none of the risk nor difficulty that had accompanied her healing of the e’Negah Tama.  More evidence to support a Zaltana’s enhanced Talents, but the ethics were Ysaulte’s alone, as they always had been.  Even given the opportunity, the one-time espionage agent forbore searching through the Fleet Commander’s mind, leaving an Empire’s secrets unexposed.  Self-will restored easily, she left the same way.

 

“He’ll wake up soon,” Jim told them, steadying Ysaulte as she rose to face Marlak.  The Senator got to his feet, looking rather ill.

 

 “Of your part in this, tr’Ahkennsai, the one will remember nothing,” she announced, surprising them all.

 

“Why the mercy, Aesaulte’h?”  Marlak had to ask, watching her stand with her starlord and feeling as if he was in the presence of royalty, sure enough.  He didn’t like it much.

 

“It comes to me, you were right to find me at fault, Rihannsu __oh, not directly, James. I do not fault myself, believe me,” she said in a silent aside, interrupting a protest only she heard.  “Marlak chose to attack me, true.  The crime his… but the truth of it is, Senator, your will was poisoned by mine.  If I choose to free you of it, it will be no mercy, unless you would count it a mercy on the rest of the galaxy.”

 

Aware of Ysaulte’s conviction, Jim surrendered his disagreement.  The Lady Anthe was not quite ready to join him.

 

“Sister, art thou certain__”

 

“Anthe, if my Zaltan’ohr cannot gainsay me, think thou to so do?”  The Fire Queen waved in Marlak’s direction.  The Senator swayed and cried out, clutching his head.  When he straightened, he was paste pale.

 

“Gone!  I sense nothing!  No voice unspoken!”

 

“Mind blind, mind deaf.  As you yourself wished it.  It is no mercy, neh?  Quiet, now.  Our grandfather wakes,” in a calm Ysaulte enforced.  Everyone except Marlak felt the old commander’s will stir to consciousness, whole and strong.

 

t’Motei tr’Arriellus opened his eyes, and the first person he saw was Leonard McCoy bending over him.  Eyebrow lifting, the old man cleared his throat and spoke.

 

“Have I died and gone to Terran Hell?”  He inquired in excellent Standard, his voice and thoughts amused, plainly confident he could handle whatever the answer might be… the same kind of bone-bred arrogance Ysaulte carried so well.  Recognizing it, McCoy smiled involuntarily and offered an open hand to help the Romulan sit.

 

  tr’Arriellus accepted, catching sight of his audience and pursing his lips.

 

“Huh.  Maybe it’s worse.  What goes, Senator?”  He asked Marlak as he stood.  tr’Ahkennsai had yet to find his tongue, so Jim replied for him.

 

“Fleet Commander tr’Arriellus, I’m James T. Kirk, captain of the starship Enterprise__”

 

“I know who you are.  Where are we?”  t’Motei demanded, gaze hard on the human and the woman on his arm, who lowered her head and spoke.

 

“Welcome to ZaworthIa, Sir.  An illness took thee on the Fleet’s passage; a sickness no Rihannsu physician able to cure.  Wast thy kinsman who thought to bring thee here, and seek a healing… and this so done.  Thou art well.”

 

Ysaulte’s rather magnificent obfuscation produced several other flying eyebrows, including Marlak’s, but no one among them would presume to contradict her.

 

“ZaworthIa.”  The old man snorted, staring at his grandson.  “Not likely.  That world has been shielded for__”

 

“You have a blood tie to this world, Sir, and she welcomed you,” Jim said evenly, drawing the commander’s attention back to himself and Ysaulte.

 

“A blood tie?  You cannot mean…”  Expressionless, tr’Arriellus regarded the Lady.  “You’re Aesaulte’h.”

 

Spine stiffening impossibly straight, Ysaulte’s irises went so black she looked more Romulan than either t’Motei or Marlak.

 

“I am the daughter of your son Aeviane.”

 

“I have not heard his name out loud in a great many years.  Not even in my own mind do I speak it,” the commander said, the words sounding as if they’d been dragged out of him.

 

“And so you punish yourself for your own guilt, tr’Arriellus.  I often wondered why you consented Aeviane to come here, and why you allowed Marlak his sanction.”

 

“Marlak obeyed his dying father’s wishes… and as for Aeviane,” the old man’s face twisted.  “He said he could find ZaworthIa, and I did not believe him.  Your father was a dreamer, Aesaulte’h.  A seeker after legends, a follower of history… and ultimately, a traitor.”

 

“My father was a warrior who followed his heart best of all.  It was his strength, and you know this.”

 

“Of course you would feel that way.”  t’Motei bowed slightly in Ysaulte’s direction.  “You are a loyal daughter.  I have always known that too… so I never made any real effort to find you while you were in the Empire.  I was aware of your presence, although I did not know your appearance, nor your location.”

 

“It was enough that tr’Ahkennsai knew,” Spock of Vulcan pointed out in deadly accusation, defending the honesty of the situation with that passion best found in his father’s people.  He shocked everyone but his captain and his captain’s Lady, who waited for the commander to reply.

 

tr’Arriellus inhaled, exhaled; a gusty old man’s sigh shuddered with open sorrow.  Offering his own truth to their examination, the Rihannsu spoke.

 

“I will not deny I bear a responsibility.  Knowing Marlak was sworn to his father Aemowain’s oath… and doing nothing to stop him.  Aemowain was my son too,” t’Motei said, baring the neverending pain caused by the deaths of his children.

 

“Aemowain hated Aeviane so much?”  Ysaulte whispered, heartsore.

 

“Aemowain loved his brother, aspired to his image, and followed him everywhere, until Aeviane left for ZaworthIa.  Aeviane returned changed, and to use a term your guests might appreciate, it broke his brother’s heart so see Aeviane spellbound to his ZaworthIan witch.”

 

The commander cleared his throat and added another sour memory.

 

“Aemowain also wanted e’Sherea, and could not countenance her devotion to your father, Aesaulte’h.”

 

“You lie!”  Marlak burst out angrily.  “My father would never sully his honor by__”

 

“Silence!”  The commander hissed irritably.  “You were a child then, Marlak!  Are you still?”  When the Senator subsided, his grandfather took a deep breath and continued, owing this audience a final fact.

 

“All who met the Lady e’Sherea loved her.  That was… her gift.”

 

Surprise blew through the room; the mental wind carrying a mixture of pride and grief barely dampened by Eyra’s soundless sobbing.

 

“a’Dme.”

 

“Of course, Ysaulte.”  The Circle’s Peacemaker reached out by mind, her force of will comforting not only the Elder Lady, but the rest of them as well.  That subliminal anguish paled, eased to calm, leaving tr’Arriellus unguarded in his curiosity.

 

“So this is ZaworthIan spellbinding.  Amazing.  The senior councilwoman?”

 

“The Lady Eyra, e’Sherea’s mother,” Ysaulte replied, ignoring the greater question in the Rihannsu’s words.  “There’s a Terran term.  James?”

 

“Your… in-laws, Commander,” Jim supplied helpfully, mentally translating the term for tr’Arriellus.

 

“Huh.  And what are you, Kirk?”  t’Motei inquired, unwillingly impressed by the human’s natural facility with telepathic expression.  Kirk merely shrugged, and the old man sighed again.  “What now, Aesaulte’h?  Do I take my Fleet and simply go?"

 

“It can be that simple, but I must know.  What of Marlak, and what of Etumuuyea?”

 

“Naturally, Marlak will go with me… and what about Etumuuyea?  I have no interest there, and neither does my Fleet.”

 

Ysaulte looked at Jim and shook her head.

 

“He lied.  Why am I surprised?”  She asked him in the voice unspoken, eyes firmly off her cousin.  "Why did we ever believe him?  Why did I?”

 

"Because you couldn't stand to look at him too closely, Ysaulte, and that's understandable.  Don't blame yourself,"  Jim answered the same way, and turned toward tr’Arriellus. 

 

“Commander, what is the last thing you recall before your illness?  What was the Fleet doing?”

 

“My memory of the last few days is rather hazy, but I believe we were on routine maneuvers near the homeworld… one of those ceremonial things for the Senate’s convention.  Not that it’s any of your business, Kirk.”

 

“No, Sir,” Jim agreed grimly, his hands twitching with the urge to wrap themselves around the Senator’s neck.  “It’s none of my business, but Star Fleet makes it theirs.  That’s why Enterprise is in this quadrant.”

 

“Huh.  You’re an arrogant son of a__”

 

“Gentlemen, please.  Let us not resort to petty epithets,” Ysidra put in quickly, hiding a smile.  That humor faded with Anthe’s next words.

 

“I fail to see why we should so naturally release the Senator to thee, Commander tr’Arriellus.  Crimes committed against the laws of this world, for which the one liable.”

 

“Crimes?  You cannot be referring to the deaths of Aeviane and e’Sherea.  As unfortunate as that was, it wasn’t outside the Way.  I happen to know ZaworthIans appreciate a blood oath as well as the Rihannsu.”

 

“Certain acts unsupported by either race.  The Senator__”

 

“My Lady Anthe,” Jim interrupted, involuntarily ordering the Elder’s silence (and that no one found this an impertinence was a tribute to him).  “I think this is… Ysaulte’s business.”

 

“Quite so, a’Zaltan’ohr.  Thy pardon, Ysaulte,” Anthe apologized, ignoring the commander’s sharp glare.

 

“What did you call him?”  t’Motei asked, tugging at his earlobe as if he thought it might help, and all the while knowing he’d heard that title purely in his mind.  “Old woman, who do you think__”

 

“Caution, tr’Arriellus.  Guard thou word and deed, for James is who he is, and on this world his will sufficient,” Anthe warned.  Frankly astonished, the Rihannsu commander shut his mouth and stared at Ysaulte.

 

“And who are you on this world, Aesaulte’h?”  His silent question echoed.

 

“I can only answer,” she allowed, head high.  “By the grace of my Mother Za, I stand on my world as Zaltana, with no thing beyond my reach.”

 

Truth cast like a spear, Ysaulte raised one hand and wished, taking the entire company outside to hakan gate’s stone markers.

 

aShaiLan was finally sinking behind the west horizon, leaving the sky above their heads a darkening forest green.  Gold shot aurorae danced on the northern mountains, welcoming cool Shan ai Shua.  The moonsister rose full over Nahele’s east woods to strike silvery fire in Ysaulte’s irises.

 

t’Motei allowed his appreciation of the beauty in his sight, and the power represented, then continued the conversation like he’d never been whisked out of the Hall.

 

“The world yours, Aesaulte’h?  A Zaltana commands forces mortal men can only seek to gain by sacrifice or murder.”

 

“More ZaworthIan sorcery,” Marlak somehow found the nerve to interrupt, sneering his way through his shock.  “How can you presume so, halfling?”

 

“I wonder thou canst doubt, standing here.  I weary of thee, Senator.

 

“Radomil, t’saie khar’sha,” Ysaulte beckoned, fingers extended to thin air.  The Daysword appeared in that open palm, full length reflecting every light left in the sky and blazing with its own strength… as did the KamarIa, which girded itself about Ysaulte’s hips like it belonged there.

 

She lowered the blade between herself and Marlak.

 

“Do you intend to slay him, then?”  tr’Arriellus asked.  “He is your blood kin, Aesaulte’h, and mine.”

 

“That did not save Aeviane,” Ysaulte charged, making the old man visibly flinch.  “I might wish Marlak dead, for he is past forgiveness.”

 

“I understand, as Zaltana, the choice is yours,” the Rihannsu commander said stiffly, ignoring his grandson’s protest.  “I submit to you, ZaworthIan, that even e’Sherea could not save Aeviane.”

 

“Sah’des ka.”  Irises glittering with the emerging stars, Ysaulte pointed Radomil at her senator cousin.  “For the commander’s sake, tr’Ahkennsai, I remand thee to his custody.”

 

“So I can go on living under one of your damned witch curses?  Why don’t you just finish it now?”  Marlak demanded, unwillingly remembering all those Klingon proverbs about revenge.

 

“Perhaps I grant thee time to save thy soul, an thou hath one to save.  Thou art banished of this world.  Be thou gone, ruination.”  Lifting the Daysword’s blade to pierce the gathering gloom, Ysaulte’h du’Zaltana wished the younger Romulan off her world.  He vanished yelling, gone in the flash of worked will.  “Even now the one stands on thy flagship, tr’Arriellus,” she promised out loud.  “What wilt thou do with the one?”

 

“Would you have me judge him?”

 

“Why not.”

 

“I cannot unless I know what he did.  Will it help you to know, child, I have already guessed Marlak was responsible for my illness.  His motives have always lacked a certain… morality.  Yours, however, seem to suffer from an excess of virtue.”  tr’Arriellus nodded at Jim.  “Is that your fault, Kirk?”

 

“As in ‘creeping Terran do-goodism’?  That’s an accusation we’ve heard before,” Jim said, rather wondering himself if it wasn’t true.  How would Ysaulte have handled all this without their involvement… his involvement?  Funny, how it all still came down to whom was influencing whom.

 

“Aesaulte’h?”

 

Ysaulte planted Radomil point-down in the grass, resting her hands on its hilt.  Jim was silent beside her, all the rest of their audience quiet and waiting.  It just made all those unvoiced questions louder.  Could she explain any of this?

 

“If we can’t, who can?”  Jim asked her, smiling.  “Besides, you’ve been explaining legends to us for days… and didn’t I tell you we’d make our own?”  He couldn’t resist adding, lightening Ysaulte’s irises.

 

Forgetting everything but him, the way it had always been for her, Ysaulte answered his smile and relaxed.

 

“Thou wouldst say ‘I told you so’ and get away with it?  I might have thee the teller of the tale.”

 

“As thou wish it, my Lady fair,” he conceded at once.  Knowing she was being maneuvered, Ysaulte laughed under her breath and held out one hand to him, taking Jim’s to wrap his fingers around the Daysword’s haft, beneath her own.  The gesture signified much; Radomil jointly wielded.  More, certainly, than tr’Arriellus cared to realize.  He coughed politely and reminded them both of his presence.

 

“You could have done worse, I suppose, Aesaulte’h,” t’Motei begrudged, very clearly teasing.  He was rewarded when she turned that smile on him.

 

“There could be none better, not in ten thousand years, or ten thousand worlds.”

 

“It is true, then, that ZaworthIa enters the Federation,” the Rihannsu assumed, stirred out of his bemusement by the suspicion.

 

“I think you know, Sir, our involvement is… personal,” Jim contradicted.  tr’Arriellus shook his head.

 

“I still want to know why you are involved at all.  I would like to be able to account for this to your grandmother, Aesaulte’h.”

 

Ysaulte started to speak, but McCoy stalled her.

 

“What about Dyer?  Are you sure he should hear all this?”

 

Jim looked at Bones and found his friend’s gaze on Ysaulte, plainly reassuring himself about what the Lady wanted known… and supplying her with an unimpeachable reason not to discuss any of it, if she needed a reason.

 

tr’Arriellus noticed too, recognizing a loyalty in the Terran doctor that surprised and impressed him by being directed as much toward Aesaulte’h as toward Kirk.  The commander thought he’d grant many a boon for that kind of consideration, including these Terrans' future safety from the Empire.  As soon as he got home, t’Motei decided he’d get rid of that price on their heads.  Even if he had to pay it himself.

 

Overhearing, Ysaulte nodded at McCoy.

 

“Leonard, I am grateful that you ask, however, as an heir to the Fire Throne, Dyer must hear it.”  By unspoken decree, this was the closest any one of them would get to mentioning the ul ku Tuura’s relationship in front of the Rihannsu.  There were things better left unsaid, and Dyer was smart enough to know the difference.  She hoped.  “du’Kefirah?”

 

“I would consider it a privilege to hear it,” the boy said gravely, hiding his surprise.  “Maybe you could start at the beginning, Ysaulte.  There are things I do not understand__”

 

“__because we haven’t gotten around to them,” Jim noted.

 

“We haven’t had time,” Ysaulte remarked, deaf to the faint sorrow in her own voice.

 

“Well, I, for one, don’t even know where the beginning is,” McCoy griped.  He managed to restore a sense of normalcy to the situation, particularly for the Sisters of the council.  They had not quite recovered from being spirited out of the Hall’s protective shielding, let alone the other aspects of their Fire Queen’s sheer, dominant Talent.  A Terran Zaltan’ohr itself (himself!) a bombshell, the oh so casually bidden appearance of Akilah’s fabled Daysword and its KamarIa, that inexplicable clemency toward tr’Ahkennsai, and the unanticipated rapport Ysaulte achieved with her alien kinsman… it all required some mental adjustments, but the Circle was willing to make them.  Given the examples set by children and outworlders, to do less was impossible.

 

“Perhaps, Ysaulte, it begins on thy leaving this world,” Anthe steadied herself sufficiently to counsel.  “It might be wondered why thou didst live upon ch’Rihan.”

 

“Surely it was more than espionage,” tr’Arriellus seconded, as curious as Dyer.

 

 “Of course,” Ysaulte replied, a bit surprised at the point Anthe chose for a beginning.  “What espionage there was came later.  When I first went into the Empire, I went at Aeviane’s and e’Sherea’s bidding, for my safety.  They felt it the last place the Senator might look.”

 

“Why not stay on ZaworthIa?  You would have been safer.”

 

“But ZaworthIa not safe from me, at the time.  I had already gone through much training, with scant success.”

 

“I can’t believe that,” Jim protested, and she laughed, seeing the logic in Anthe's suggestion.  This was the place to start.

 

“Believe it.  I found the discipline too burdensome.”

 

“To be precise, gentlemen, the one’s Talents often yielded to her emotion, and the one’s emotion often yielded to her father’s blood,” Eyra volunteered honestly.  “Not to say we did not wish her here, but e’Sherea and Aeviane thought she might be… happier… in the Empire.”

 

“It shames me now an we agreed,” Anthe whispered.  “Wast harm in the decision.”

 

“No.  You did the right thing,” Jim interrupted, silently wishing the regrets out of Anthe’s faded crystal gaze.  “Ysaulte needed that time.  It made her stronger.”

 

“Thou art kind, James,” Anthe told him, with tr’Arriellus, of all people, to endorse her words.

 

“Indeed, there is kindness in the notion Aesaulte’h benefits from her father’s world… and Aesaulte’h, the offer may seem meaningless, but I will tell you, I have the necessary influence to take you to ch’Rihan today, due homage and inheritance as my kinswoman."

 

“The offer is far from meaningless, Sir, but I cannot leave Za again,” Ysaulte admitted something she and Jim had always known, and listened to the questions breed.  To distract them, she went on.

 

“While I lived on ch’Rihan, there crossed my path a centurion who struck me passing strange.  Once inquiring, I learned the one neither of ch’Rihan, nor ch’Havran, but was in fact a Federation spy__”

 

“Ambassador.”  Vulcan warning carried low to every ear, Spock’s chosen form of address raising a few eyebrows.  Evidently, Spock had yet to completely adjust to the changed circumstances either, which made the ZaworthIans feel a little better.

 

“It’s all right, Spock,” Jim elected to ignore the broader questions in favor of reassuring his friend.  “I don’t think Ysaulte is saying anything the commander hasn’t already heard.”

 

tr’Arriellus was nodding.

 

“You are referring to the Zeitsev affair.  Naturally, I know.  It was a great scandal for internal security,” t’Motei responded patiently.  “I did not know you were involved, Aesaulte’h.”

 

“I wasn’t, not at first,” she answered, thanking Jim for his faith.  “I kept my knowledge to myself and presumed surveillance, since the one posed no threat to the Empire.  I might never have intervened, save for some distant human error.”  Ysaulte tilted a smile in Spock’s direction.

 

“When the time came for Alexei to leave ch’Rihan, the one found himself stranded of his transportation.  He came to me.”

 

“How did he know?”  Jim asked, fascinated.

 

“That he could trust me?  I cannot say.  I have never asked, although he said once he… saw truth in my eyes.”  Ysaulte shrugged, but Jim didn’t doubt Alexei Zeitsev had meant that.

 

“So you got him out.  I salute you, Aesaulte’h.  The one remaining mystery for ‘our’ side is solved.  I gather from your expression, Captain, your Admiral hasn’t boasted of his travels.  That, at least, is a relief.  I would hate to think every operative in the Federation believed they could waltz in and out of the Empire.  How did you do it, Aesaulte’h?  If that is no secret?”

 

“No secret.  I arranged Alexei’s passage on the Makadisa__”

 

“The smuggler’s ship?  You put Alexei Zeitsev on__”

 

“I might have known you would recognize the name, James.  In those days, I believed the Makadisa’s captain, Roede Doewe, to be a friend to my parents and me.”

 

“Then it was he who betrayed you,” Spock perceived, remembering the very few pieces of this story she had told them.

 

“Later, yes.”

 

“I also happen to recognize the name,” tr’Arriellus announced.  “I believe Roede Doewe committed suicide a few days ago, on some fringe planet whose name escapes me.”

 

“Cilehe.”  Ysaulte made it sound like a curse, her eyes sad.  “I did not know Roede was dead… and I rather doubt it was suicide.”

 

“So why were you on Cilehe?”  Jim asked, and this time she told him.

 

“Roede had been using the uninhabited part of the planet for a smuggler’s base.  Alexei asked me to… dissuade him, before he had to send troops in to do it… because Alexei owed Roede, and me, a favor.”

 

“That explains the secrecy.  Zeitsev wouldn’t want it known he was giving Doewe a chance to relocate, or that he had to go outside the Federation to do it.”

 

“Alexei did the best he could to keep my involvement quiet,” she reminded Jim gently, aware he was suddenly furious with his far-off admiral.

 

“He never should have asked you… and you,” Jim rounded on the ZaworthIan Sisters.  “How could you let her go into so much danger?”

 

“The one chose to go, which we supported,” Ysidra explained with more calm than she actually felt.  “In our defense, James, we did not know the danger so great.  Wast the Circle’s thought we needed Ysaulte off Za, so her vision might be clearer.  Believe me when I tell thee, the one possessed such Talent as we hoped she might see the better path.  We had to know if the Federation was ready for ZaworthIa to join, why we were wanted so, what might they do to get us, how would the Empire react…”  Ysidra’s gaze rested on Dyer for just a moment, and Jim understood Etumuuyea had been one more variable the Sisters had had to resolve.

 

“Truth told, we needed Ysaulte off this world for other reasons, selfish ones,” Anthe confessed with painful honesty.  “When the one returned seven months ago from ch’Rihan, she wast bereaved of her parents and very… Rihannsu.  Wast wished for the one changes with distance.  Forgive us, Ysaulte.”

 

“If you will forgive me, for I came home consumed with anger, and hungering after vengeance.”  Ysaulte glanced at McCoy.  “I felt displaced, even here, and I wanted to leave ZaworthIa.”

 

“You must have been hurting very badly,” Bones noted simply, disgracing every one of the sha’deh du Khyn with his accurate perception.

 

“I was not myself.  I was inattentive.”  Ysaulte’s unusually careful Standard was all the answer any of them had to hear.  “I failed to sense the oddness in Roede’s mindset, and by the time I realized his loyalty shifted, it was too late.  Even so, had I left Cilehe then, I might have found myself safe, and never meeting thee, James, nor thine.”

 

“Aesaulte’h, do I understand you?”  The Rihannsu commander interrupted.  “You went to this planet Cilehe to talk to a smuggler who had once been a friend, and he betrayed you?  To whom?”

 

“Your grandson, of course.  Are you certain you want to hear this, Sir?”  Jim asked in a tone as grim as the stare he trained on tr’Arriellus.  The old man drew up his shoulders and returned the glare.

 

“Because you are who you are, Kirk, I promise you this.  I won’t betray her.”

 

Jim was so startled he blinked, taken by Ysaulte’s surprise, and his own.

 

“Tell me where you come in, Kirk,” t’Motei requested to the Terran’s nod.

 

“Very well.”  Matching Ysaulte’s sudden, peerless serenity, Jim took up the tale, and for sheer effect used the commander’s first language; High Tongue Rihannsu, each word translated heart and mind by his Lady Zaltana.

 

“Right thine to hear, kinsman, for the son of the line devalues it, and thee.  On oath sworn, the Senator pursued his father’s brother’s child, a chase from one side of the world to the other.  There the quarry was fired upon and brought to ground.

 

“Having Aesaulte’h at his mercy, Marlak offered none, nor even death as pledged.  He chose, instead, to take out his rage on the one, injuring her in that way no man should ever hurt a woman.”  Jim watched the Romulan’s eyes go cold and knew he understood, before continuing.  “Failing, despite his crime, to tarnish either virtue or Talent, Marlak abandoned Aesaulte’h to the wreckage of her craft.  Alerted by evidence of disaster, Enterprise came upon the scene too late, and all we could do__ all I could do, was provide a fragile Lady sanctuary… a Lady who seemed of crystal, pure, and too near shattering to touch, until I touched her thoughts.”

 

Lost now in the endless swirl of Ysaulte’s irises, Jim spoke for all to witness, silencing a world of doubtful questions in the language they heard best.

 

“I discovered a strength greater than mine, a strength to depend on, with a heart full of needs just as great.  A need to relearn trust, both in herself and others.  A need for forgiveness, for the Lady believed she… failed.  A need for solace, for an anchor, and a need to make a dream come from a nightmare… then make it real.  We’ve done that.  You’ve done that, Ysaulte.”

 

“Thou, beloved,” she whispered, as always confounded by his moral clarity and full of love and pride.  "You make me believe in honor, James, and in miracles, justice, and divine intervention… and in eternity.  How do I thank you?”

 

“I can’t believe you think you need to… and you already have,” he said into her mind.  “I had dreams too.”  Deliberately ignoring their audience, Jim bent his head and kissed Ysaulte, a lingering, unhurried caress.  “I’m going to tell you one more thing, then we’ll call it even and never mention gratitude again, my Lady fair.”

 

Ysaulte tilted her head back, baring her throat to him in that gesture so much the ZaworthIan way.  She showered him with the luxurious sweetness of her obedience, there only because she wished to obey.

 

“As thou wish it, a’hava Zaltan’ohr.”

 

Jim laid the fingertips of one hand against the base of Ysaulte’s neck, catching the heavy throb of her pulse, and impressed a world with his understanding of ritual.

 

“The real reward in being your Zaltan’ohr is being allowed to help you, Ysaulte, when you don’t need any help.  Being allowed to defend you, when you don’t need any defending.  Being with you.”  He slid his hand around the back of her head and straightened it, staring into those blue-gold eyes.  “The privilege is knowing you, Ysaulte.”

 

“James.  My satisfaction in thee is beyond measure.”

 

They grinned at each other, and no soul on the planet could doubt the intensity of their commitment.  This raised a whole new set of anxious questions in some quarters.

 

“Jim__”

 

“Bones, would you quit worrying?  We’ll talk about it later.  Right now we’ve got to decide what to do about the Romulans.”

 

McCoy’s eyebrow went up with t’Motei’s, expressions noted with some amusement by everyone save those two.  Ysaulte stifled a laugh, winked at Dyer, and pulled the Daysword out of the ground.  She still held one of Jim’s hands beneath hers on the hilt.

 

She took a moment to appreciate the fact that Radomil’s blade emerged from the ground clean, its edges glittering in Shan ai Shuah’s full shining.  They might as well have stood in the day, so bright was the moonsister’s illumination.

 

“Didst know, this our Sister Shan ai Shuah never more glorious, Ysaulte,” a’Dme pondered out loud, apprehending the thought in the Fire Queen’s mind and smiling.  “Our guests__ no, make that our extended family may be interested in knowing her cycle not due such ripeness for twenty Standard days.  Tell this humble servant, please.  Turns the moon for thee or for our Mother?”

 

A hush dropped over them, even the breeze pausing.  It reminded them all that when Ysaulte spoke, her entire world listened.

 

“Understand me when I tell thee, beloved, all turns to our Mother’s whim.  All.”

 

“And thou doth believe this?”  a’Dme persisted.

 

“Thou art right to question me, for I without faith and heathen Rihannsu, neh, a’Dme?”  Ysaulte teased outright, surprising a blush into the Lady Peacemaker’s cheeks.  “Fear not.  I have learned much of faith.  ‘Faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen’.  That is a Terran definition, by the way.”

 

“Sah’des ka, Zaltana.  Things here due change, I suppose,” Ysidra said thoughtfully, her gaze on the sword Ysaulte still held point down.

 

“Maybe not the changes you think, Ysidra,” Jim remarked, earning the focus of so many ZaworthIan eyes he felt himself flush.  Ysaulte was startled by his sudden shyness, and quick to deflect the attention off him.

 

“There doth be agreement first, to forge with the Empire.  How go thine own wishes, tr’Arriellus?  What wouldst thou ask?”

 

“I am honored you should ask, Aesaulte’h.  Whatever you decide, no doubt, is how it will be.  Tell me, what would you have me do with Marlak?  Even under Rihannsu law, you have a claim on his life.”

 

“It matters not to me, for he is irrelevant.  Do what you will.”

 

“Mercy for him again?”

 

“No mercy.  The one’s days numbered by forces greater than mine.  I want only your leaving ZaworthIa, and Federation space… and you should know, the safety of system Etumuuyea is now the sworn duty of the sha’deh du Khyn.  While I accept there is no immediate plan for the Empire’s expansion in that direction, I warn you.  The Sisters watch.”

 

“As you say, Aesaulte’h.  I believe I will miss you.  No further relations?"

 

“Between ZaworthIa and ch’Rihan, or thee and me?”

 

The commander shrugged, answering Ysaulte with his notion it was all the same thing.

 

“I believe I will miss you too, Grandfather, but I see no wisdom in future relations.”

 

“Yes, there is galactic peace to consider,” the old man smiled, inwardly pleased by her use of the Terran honorific.  Speaking of Terrans…  “What of ZaworthIa and the Federation?”

 

“Neither any alliance there.  Not in my lifetime, nor my children’s lifetime, so no need for the Empire’s concern.”

 

“You will forgive me, Aesaulte’h, if I see a contradiction here.”

 

“An thou accept my word.”

 

“Always.  I will give your… grandmother… your regards.  She will be very happy to have heard of you.  You have my word on this.  I will make sure Marlak never leaves ch’Rihan again.”

 

“That is a mercy, Sir.”

 

“Will you send me home with my Fleet, Madam Fire Queen?”

 

It might have sounded like a challenge, except t’Motei tr’Arriellus made obvious his confidence she could do just that, as easily as wishing.  Which of course, she could.

 

Lifting Radomil to catch the reflected light, Ysaulte bowed to the Rihannsu commander.

 

“Health, kinsman.  S’elahs drei kha’ar du Ia.”

 

“Thank you for the blessing, daughter.  Live well.”  tr’Arriellus gravely returned her bow, nodded at the starship captain, and waited.  Aesaulte’h did not disappoint him.

 

Pointing her sword at the stars, the Lady Zaltana created lightning from the moonshine, mindblinding… voice unspoken reaching every heart.

 

“Go thou in peace, t’Motei.  The memories of dreams carry thee.”

 

Stated will was a fire in their souls; Ysaulte wishing.  Jim felt the worldforce move, bidden to the rush of her wild Talent, and the Rihannsu disappeared as instantaneously as his grandson.

 

“Marlak won’t__”

 

“He won’t have time.”

 

That exuberant power surged again, seeking greater freedom.  The Fire Queen laughed out loud, lowering Radomil northeast.

 

“A’dia Za, al’have ti’S’elahs.  Harith sha’tr vi, yo’shin’mar’ad, al’d sha’deh.”  Mother, your beloved ask your divine favor.  Give harith forth to rise and return it to your sisters.”

 

Trembling seized the ground, rumbles and groans parting the earth around the Hall.  Inlaid stones began emerging from the soil, mortared flawless and eternal, encircling… the inner wall resurrected, complete to the tall and gleaming panels of harith gate.  Visible energy poured from the Daysword then shimmered along the top of the wall, jumping over the gap at hakan’s place, pooling collected.

 

“James, if you will,” she requested.  Jim knew what she wanted.  He pictured the Rihannsu Fleet hanging motionless above the planet, warbirds and battlecruisers and tr’Arriellus’s flagship keeping station.  Seeing it through his thoughts, Ysaulte commanded the capabilities harith’s wall was funneling and wished again.  “A’dia Za, shi’ra’ad al’du’Riah’annsu.”

 

Light burst from the stones’ focus, beamed upward like a phaser blast.  In his mind, Jim saw ch’Rihan with ch’Havran waltzing unprotected about their fiery lover Eisn… then they were alone no longer, that system’s children flocking home.  The entire Romulan Fleet in orbit around the twin worlds.

 

Ysaulte let the sword’s point drop while she turned toward her council.

 

“So much surprise?”

 

“Do thou not misunderstand us, please, Ysaulte.  It is not so much that we question thy handling of the Rihannsu.  But to raise the walls__”

 

“Ysidra, she’s right to do it,” Jim assured, taking his hand off the Daysword and resisting the urge to stare at it instead of the Lady Protector.  He knew how Ysaulte had done what she’d done, and he still couldn’t believe it, so it was easy to be sympathetic.  “You think she’s undoing the work of your ancestors, and that bothers you, but the walls never should have been removed.  Zariel made a mistake__”

 

“Thou dare!”

 

“Always, Ladies.  How can you doubt anything Ysaulte does?  Believe me, those walls exist for a reason.  They make a’d’Kef a cradle and a fortress.  What you’ve seen should prove that.”

 

“James, there are no Rihannsu commanders to impress, nor outsiders to evade.  Stand thou before family, now, and say we art meet in calling our Sisters’ Hall again by a’d’Kef?  Live once more under the Fire Throne’s rule?  These things being millennia gone, it seems rather a presumption,” the former K'intohrza retorted with a bright glare.

 

“Is that what you believe?”  Dyer asked sharply, reminding them of his presence.  He stepped up beside Ysaulte and shook his head, not afraid to face down the council.  “We are ZaworthIans.  There is only truth here for all to witness.  The presumption was in thinking of a life without a palace or a Fire Queen.  Even if we did not know it, Sisters, we were lost.  We are no longer.  We should rejoice.”  Without waiting for a response, the boy laid one hand over Ysaulte’s grasp on Radomil, his other reaching to touch her face.  “All things art possible.  I shall never forget.  Will you bring back oshun’s wall next?”

 

Ysaulte sighed, drinking in this clear and evident faith.  In his way, Dyer was as strong as James.  She thought he deserved an opportunity to demonstrate this, so she handed him the Daysword with a smile, wrapping his smaller fingers around its hilt.

 

“Do thou raise the wall, heir to the Fire Throne,” she requested, her reward in the boy’s wide and wondering stare.  The sheer rightness of this gesture silenced any objection.

 

“Me?”  Dyer whispered to Ysaulte’s nod.  He lifted the sword, which was just as heavy as it needed to be, and leveled it northwest towards ha’limeda.  “Am I__”

 

“__sufficient to task?  Ever so, little Brother.  Envision thou where oshun gate should stand, and ask our Mother for it.”

 

“A’dia Za, al’du’hava Dyer, mar’ad oshun,” he begged in pure, unblemished ZaworthIan.  The ground shook in accompaniment while power pooled and surged again, confidently demanding the second ring of stone leave four thousand years of hiding… moving every one of his listeners to a discovery.  There would come the time of an ul ku Tuura Zaltan’ohr.

 

Oshun and its wall rose in the quick beat of a child’s heart, surrounding harith’s barriers and the Hall it protected, framing their view in the gap that would be hakan gate.

 

“Your once and future palace, my Lady Fire Queen,” Dyer announced, laying Radomil’s blade across his palm then bowing deep enough to brush it with his forehead.  “How else may I serve?”

 

Accepting the sword with the gravity Dyer’s solemn bearing deserved, Ysaulte returned the bow, quickly followed by James and the remainder of a sincerely admiring audience.

 

“Brother, well done.  It is I who entreats thee, therefore.  What wouldst thou have me do for thee?  If it falls within my Talents to accomplish, so shall it be.”

 

“I think I’m ready to go home… although I did want to see one of the shapeshifters first.”

 

Grass leaped up between them in the figure of a man, who burst into flames then solidified into flesh.  He was tall and fair of eyes, hair, and countenance, robed in simple green with starshine for a crown.

 

Ysaulte unspelled the Daysword and handed it to James.  Not even she would stand armed before this one.

 

“Da’san Yarkona, I presume,” she said calmly into the charged atmosphere.  All about her were tense with the intrusion, particularly her council.

 

“Ysaulte.  You’ve changed,” the tal’Adares said with such fine irony she could not help but laugh, relieving some of the widespread concern.

 

“Some things do,” she acknowledged wryly.

 

“Some do not.”  Yarkona turned to see how the council would react (and he turned without actually turning at all).  “Ten thousand Standard years, and ZaworthIa’s Sisters still fear my people for what we are?”

 

“More for what thou art not, I expect.  How may I serve thee, O King of ever-changing?”  Ysaulte offered formally, a smile still in her voice to which none were immune, not even the lord of the Nahele forest deeps.  Yarkona faced her once more.  Instantly.  Surprise showered in sparks from his eyes.

 

“Not you, never you, Aesaulte’h of ch’Rihan.  You know no fear.”

 

“I know that which is greater than me or thee, Da’san.”

 

“Excellent.  I came only to watch, you know, and could not resist being wished for,” he told them with a nod at Dyer.  “I mean no disrespect in saying this, but you have no reason to fear.”

 

“History teaches me a new perspective on the subject, which I in turn shall teach, Sir,” Ysaulte noted serenely.  “We will learn.”

 

“And grow.  This is all we whom you call tal’Adares have ever wanted for you, and with my ascendancy came a new policy.”  Yarkona inclined his head.  “It pleases me to see you are made Zaltana, Ysaulte.  I will leave you to your flesh.  For now.”

 

A smile that would have been wicked in any form crossed the face of the King of ever-changing.  With it, the shapeshifter became a ball of light and diffused himself into the air.

 

“Kind of reminds you of the Organians, doesn’t it, Spock?”  Jim asked, catching the Vulcan’s faint surprise.  “What was their old policy, Ysaulte?”

 

“How merited I cannot say, but it has ever been believed they seek minds from embodied people.”

 

“To… join?”

 

“More or less.  That’s the problem with non-corporeal life, you know.  It loses diversity.”

 

Unseen laughter sounded low then faded away.  Ysaulte smiled again and turned back toward Dyer.

 

“So, Brother.  Having wishes granted, art thou now prepared to go home?”

 

“Yes, but did I really wish him here, Ysaulte?”  Dyer dug his toes into the grass.  “He is a little frightening.”

 

Ysaulte shook her head.

 

“The one was always here, I knew it all the time.  Even he claims we have no reason to fear.”

 

“Not because of his assurances, Ysaulte.  Because of yours,” Dyer said with his usual accuracy.  “Will you be all right?”

 

Knowing very well to what he referred, Ysaulte chose to misunderstand him.

 

“The Sisters of Za will be fine, and on mine order sworn today, ever here for thee, Dyer.  Hath thou need, hath thou only to call.”  Ysaulte bent over to kiss him, sealing the vow.  “Please tell Silivia how much I appreciate her help.”

 

“I shall.”  Blushing, Dyer hugged her tightly.  “I’ll tell her everything, and the legends will live for another ten millennia, I am sure.  I wish I could thank you__”

 

“You thanked us by coming along, Dyer.  Take care,” Jim told him, realizing he was going to miss the Muuyean boy.  “I hope we get back to Etumuuyea some day.”

 

“Huh.”  Dyer snorted, sounding remarkably like his father the Negus for a minute.  “If you wait twenty or thirty years you can be sure of your welcome,” he had the nerve to tease, giggling.  “Goodbye, Prince of stars, and your lords of space and time.  Be kind.”

 

“I’ll… try,” Jim nodded, having misunderstood nothing.  Spock, Bones, and the women of the council added their farewells, then Ysaulte set her fingertips against the boy’s eyelids and closed them.

 

“The next thou seeing the sky above thy valley ul ku Tuura, and Silivia with, I promise.”

 

That peerless psionic energy flexed and flowed once more, gentler this time, without being less powerful.  Dyer vanished from view (and on board Enterprise, an unsurprised Silivia felt her surroundings dissolve), as she who lived as Zaltana sent them home.

 

End Chapter Fifteen