Of Lives Lost

[Shyahwyn]

Moonlight cascaded into the long, polished marble halls otherwise darkened, as Shyahwyn strolled quietly toward the kitchen. Her husband, the duke of Sargon, fell asleep long ago now and left his much younger wife, now of almost ten years, to herself. Though she was used to this arrangement, allowing him several minutes of pleasure before falling into a deep, comatose like state, allowing her to pursue her other pleasures. Living in a palace like this had never even crossed her mind as a child, being raised by a crusty, evil witch who only pushed her to become one of the Pachmari’s finest, the daughter of farmers on Yelsain always knew there was more to it. Though in a way, this life wasn’t much different.


Nearing the kitchen, she could still hear the chef and some of the palace’s staff deciding tomorrow’s breakfast as she slowed, heel-toeing to the door. Adorned in a deep blue, silk gown, the shapely witch strained her ears to listen, but with the growl of her stomach, pushed the door open instead and walked into the much brighter, though expansive room. Stainless tables, polished to a high sheen, reflected the equally well kept assortment of hanging, brass and stainless cookware.


“Evening,” she greeted, emerald eyes now searching for the covered basket of rolls that she saw one of the servants carry back after dinner.


“My ducha,” the chef bowed. “How may we help you?”


“Just wanted a snack,” she motioned to the others with a wave of her right hand. “Didn’t mean to interrupt. Continue.”


“I’d be more than happy to...,” he continued, turning as she passed the thinner, clean shaven veteran of the duke’s culinary experts.


“That’s okay, no need to go to all that trouble.” Finding the covered basket, slender, tanned fingers raised the white towel and found what her nose indicated as the prize for this raid. Raising one of the rolls, she covered it again and took a bite. “Thank you.”


Bowing their heads to her as she continued through the line of prep tables and ovens, Shyahwyn continued on to the opposite door and exited into the main dining room. Haunting, the high ceilinged rooms of this very old building hailed back to a day of grand balls and dinner parties which hosted nearly all the mainstream dignitaries and nobility of the Consortium. Though she had done her best to continue that tradition, it seemed that some had gotten out of that habit. The new regime on Hapes itself intrigued her and as she meandered through the gathering of chairs lined near the long, dark wood table, mused on recent dreams that had kept her up the past few nights. Portents that allowed her thoughts to ponder schemes beyond these gilded halls.
Maelona had always taught her that the energies of the universe touched everyone differently, though as Shyahwyn grew older, she began to realize that her own gift went beyond parlor tricks and illusory magic. She could touch surface thoughts of others when mindlessly focused on a discussion. Move things when focused on a small utensil with her mind. Be quiet when the need arose. Perfect for an assassin.


Finishing the roll, she felt satisfied as she passed from the large dining room to another adjoining hall adorned with large paintings of ancestors of her husband. Women and men who had all made their mark on the system and helped forge the Consortium’s strength and kept it safe. Proud looks matching their amazingly tailored outfits in red, blue and purple with splashes of gold and silver adornments, they all had their stories and secrets. Things she wore during state visits and other functions, but never took pride in herself. It was all part of the large play that began every morning with the sunrise.


Sounds of movement in the parlor prompted the thirty-one year old to venture that way, noticing the soft golden rectangle of light now pouring through the door. Entering, she recognized her step-daughter, Antonia, busy about more research for a big case she was working.


“Thought you’d be asleep by now,” she greeted quietly, gaining the brunette’s attention.



“No,” she smiled, glancing up from the pile of opened books. “Have one particular law that I’m researching from past cases before I’ll be ready tomorrow.” Blue eyes returned to the pages before her. “Lawyers love trying to find loopholes all the time, so have to be a step ahead.”


Nearing the large desk, it’s supporting edges carved in amazing reliefs of large trees whose branches reached across the face of each side to the other corner. “Being a judge isn’t easy, I’m sure, but you’ve done a great job these past few years.”


“Thank you,” Antonia glanced up momentarily, grinning, then returned to her work. “Father asleep, I take it?”


“About an hour ago. He’s had a long week.”


“He has,” she replied distractedly.


Then of course, did what little he could for me. “Well, I’ll leave you to it,” she rounded the desk and leaned in, kissing the twenty-nine year old on the head, then moved to leave. “Good night.”


“You too. Sleep well.”


Leaving the parlor, Shyahwyn continued her nightly tour of the palace’s many rooms until hearing the rush of booted footsteps approaching the atrium. Turning, she cautiously moved toward the doorway and recognized the uniforms of the palace guard. “What’s going on?”


“Ducha,” one of the females greeted, bowing her head. “We have to secure you in the safe room. Now, please.”


Brow furrowed in confusion, she neared the trio. “What’s going on?”


“The duke’s been found dead,” the tall, armored guard replied, then motioned for her to follow.


Surprised and shocked, she knew he was fine when she left him. “Has the palace doctor been called to investigate?”


“Yes, ma’am,” she continued trying to usher the duchess from the atrium, near the front door. “Once we know more, we’ll be sure to have her inform your ladyship. Please, we have to get you to safety in case there’s a murderer still about.”


Nodding, she fell in step with the guards. “Lady Antonia’s in the parlor and the others are in their rooms.”


“Yes, ma’am. They’re being gathered as well.”

[Shyahwyn]

Within the underground room, accessed by a single door on either side, Shyahwyn waited with the rest of the family while the guards and Chief of Palace Security conducted their investigation and interrogated nearly everyone. Seated on one of the many beds, lounging against a pillow, she wondered how long it would be before she could begin to see to the arrangements for the ceremony to see Willem off, though kept that thought process to herself for now.


“Grandma,” young Brigitte, Antonia’s daughter called as she approached. “What’s happened to grandpa?”


Taking the redhead in her arms, she sat the ten year old beside herself. “He’s gone to be with his fathers,” she relayed, grinning sympathetically. “I don’t understand how it happened, but Lady Nikole should be down in a bit to tell us.”


Nodding, Brigitte lay against her and sighed. “He seemed fine at dinner,” she explained, wiping a tear from her cheek.


“Sometimes things just happen,” she relayed quietly, laying her head against her granddaughter’s. “He lived a great life, never forget that.’


“I won’t.”


Glancing over to Kerinos, Willem’s eldest son, she could already hear the judgmental thoughts rolling through his mind.






Getting a few hours sleep, the noisy clatter at the main access door awoke Shyahwyn and Brigitte as both perked up, the elder wiping sleep from her eyes as she sat up. Kerinos hadn’t gone to sleep apparently and she could already tell the duke’s three children and Antonia had been whispering while she slept.


Entering, the older, authoritative figure of the palace security’s leader gained everyone’s attention as Nikole bowed to Shyahwyn and approached the foot of the bed. “My ducha, the doctor can discover nothing that would indicate that your husband was murdered. We’ve also finished our investigation with the staff and could find no evidence of foul play, so milady and her family are free to return upstairs.”


Nodding, Shyahwyn helped Brigitte rise first, then followed suit. “Thank you, captain.”


“Yes, ma’am. I’m sorry that the family had to wait so long.”


“Not at all,” Isabelle interjected. “You had a job to do. I would like to see the doctor’s report though before he’s interred.”


“Of course.”


Moving toward the door, Shyahwyn’s story for the evening was solid, regardless of what the three children and Kerinos’ wife may think. As she led the group back upstairs, she knew the girls in the family had come to trust her implicitly, though Willem’s eldest son didn’t and she figured it was because his father had chosen a bride that was almost as old as his son. Mending fences on that front had taken a long time, though it seemed in one fell swoop all that work had been tossed out the window once more.
Once reaching the palace’s main halls again, she turned to the duke’s immediate family, “I’d appreciate your help with the funeral arrangements. He deserves a sending worthy of his name.”


“Of course,” Antonia replied as Isabelle and Clare nodded.


This was only the beginning of the dawning of a new day on Sargon, she mused.

[Shyahwyn]

Five days later, a sea of black adorned mourners drifted from the large, verdant hilltop commanding the immense estate that supported the palace, royal stables and several small farms, winery and warehouses. The afternoon breeze wafted through the white marble crypt as Shyahwyn bid her last goodbye to her husband. Truth be told, she assumed that her youth would’ve killed him much sooner, but having his influence in court and during important business deals had taught her much. Knowledge that would be put to good use now that she was the ruler of Sargon and would assume his place in Hapan society.


“Everyone’s gone,” Kerinos stated, his disdain palpable. “You can stop pretending that you cared for my father.”


“You do realize that I’m your ducha now,” she countered, the warning just as evident.


“That’s the thing about Hapan politics, every seat has always been fluid and ever changing.”


Turning toward him, emerald eyes narrowed through the black laced veil. “That a threat? Better be prepared to back it up.”


“Oh, don’t worry,” he bowed to her mockingly. “I never said I would do anything.” Smirking, he moved toward the large, squared marble panel lauding the name and accomplishments of the late duke. “But, it would be unfortunate for such a lovely widow to meet her end the same way he did.”


“And how did he meet his end?”


“I know you poisoned him,” brown eyes turned back to her. “Those walks in the middle of the night, touring the palace and eventually to your hideout in the basement. The private lab. Just what does a loving wife do down there, all by herself?”


“Create potions and elixirs like the one that cured your daughter last spring. How’s your back, by the way? Antonia’s headaches? Clare’s insomnia? All those ointments and elixirs came from ingredients grown in our very own garden,” she stepped up, voice seething. “So, before you decide to implicate me in some plot to kill my husband, keep in mind that everyone nearby and serving this family with a gun is now under my command. And, as I recall, anyone making a threat against one of the higher ranking nobility can be put to trial and summarily executed. Be a shame for your wife to have to give the final judgment on your sentence. Your daughter growing up without her father. Missing out on all her events, graduating college, being married and having children of her own.” She watched his expression melt slightly at the thought, realizing he had overstepped quite a bit. Insinuations that were called upon. “Don’t ever threaten me again. Got it?”


Eyeing her quietly, Kerinos sighed lightly and eventually offered a slight nod.


Turning from him, she knew this wasn’t the end of this problem and she was going to have to keep her eyes on him, but also begin building her own case against him just in case. Not only was he slighted being a male in a female dominated society, but a girl only a year older was now ruler of his house that in most other cultures would have belonged to him instead, or at least be an equal in most things. Glancing to the quartet of royal guard, she guided them and both of her ladies in waiting back down the hill toward the awaiting limo. She had a dinner to get to.

[Shyahwyn]

Sparing no expense on the meal that was prepared for all her guests, family members and friends of her late husband, Shyahwyn’s emerald gaze took in those gathered here this evening. Her black dress now replaced by a long, deep purple gown and bodice whose open folds revaled white silk as she moved, her light brown hair cascading down her back and wearing no jewelry but her wedding ring, the ducha bowed her head politely to those that she and her duo of ladies in waiting passed. Each of them pondering her part in Willem’s death, some hoping to be the next one to warm her bed, a few hoping that Kerinos’ plan would come to fruition.
A mote that she held on to.

“Please be seated friends,” she announced as she claimed her chair, Willem’s now empty except for his circlet of position, a place setting on the table as if expecting him to arrive any moment. Everyone sat, then the din of conversation continued as servants began setting the first course before the nobles. Elegant classical music played softly in the background, the small group seated on a higher balcony overlooking the grand dining room. Tall, bullet shaped windows allowed the waning sunlight in, over the opposing roof of the guest wing across the large courtyard.


Listening to tidbits as she could, while eating, Shyahwyn glanced to Isabelle as she leaned left toward the ducha. “Mother, the tox screen was clear. I feel we all owe you an apology.”


“No,” Shyahwyn grinned, setting her fork down and placing her right hand atop the blonde’s left. “I understand completely. Trust me. No hard feelings between us. I’m going to need all of you to help me from this point on, keep this family and name strong. I know your brother has never favored me, but I know it’s been hard for him as well.”


Amused as she wiped her mouth with the napkin, the Finance Minister for the palace chuckled lightly. “I grew up with him, he’s never been very easy to get along with outsiders, but you’ve been a part of our family now for ten years. He’ll come around, just give him time.”


“I hope so.” For his sake.


As the night wore on, certain faces began to become more familiar, especially those with Kerinos as they huddled together near the large hearth on the far side of the room. One particular older man had been Willem’s confidante and old friend for many years. Sir Nikolai Martino nodded, his gnarled, left hand to his chin in deep thought as Kerinos tried to convince him of the treachery that he believed was true, even though he had no proof beyond his own suspicions. She had seen this same scene play out for a decade in this very room as well as many others with her husband, and none of them ended well for the plotters. This one would be no different.


Continuing to chat with friends of the family, she noticed Nikolai approach with a goblet of wine in his hand, nearing the circle as it began to part. “Excuse me, my ducha,” the older navy veteran and statesman interrupted. “I’m moved to share a drink with you, if I may. On behalf of your husband and my friend, may he rest in peace,” he stated, lifted the goblet and took a sip, then offered it to her, many looking on from the fringe.
Taking it, she watched as his face slowly began to melt, expression going from placid to pain which he tried in vain to hide. Realizing what he had done, she lowered the goblet. “Someone get him a doctor, hurry!”


Rushing from the far right, the palace’s doctor, already a guest at the dinner, rushed over and tried to treat the noble, tending to him as the older man slipped to the floor. Concernedly, everyone watched as Sir Martino’s eyes soon closed forever.


Handing her handmaiden the goblet, “See that no one takes this from you.”


“Yes, milady.”


As the doctor apologized for the loss, medics now moving in with a hoverbed, Shyahwyn’s eyes rose to Kerinos and his compatriots, wondering what they hoped to accomplish with that little stunt.

[Shyahwyn]

Lovisa gently set out the nightgown that her lady would be wearing to bed, the dutiful lady-in-waiting having kept all her secrets and covered for her when Shyahwyn had to tend to other, more important things. Being a noble in Hapan space wasn’t without it’s risks from all those who wished her station. The duke having been widowed not long before the attractive witch came on the scene and captured not only his eye, but also his imagination, a trophy wife such as this would only gain him more prestige and jealousy from the other nobles and little did he know that his lust for the young girl would spell his own doom. Lovisa conveniently forgot that as well and would take the secret to her grave. Servants were the silent witnesses to history that those who wrote the books conveniently forgot when it suited them.

Turning from the elegant, four post bed, it’s sheer white curtains flowing from each corner adding an elegant touch to the heavy, dark wood polished to a high sheen, she moved into the bathroom where her fellow lady-in-waiting combed out Shyahwyn’s hair. Now seated at the brass and marble vanity, emerald eyes glanced to the brunette.


“Have you heard anything new, Lovisa,” Shyahwyn inquired.


Blue eyes glanced to the ducha, “He and his two friends are meeting with the ambassador in an hour, ma’am.”


Nodding, Shyahwyn’s gaze drifted back to her reflection in the mirror. “Thank you.”


Finishing up, Constance nodded to her charge respectfully and moved to her left, placing the ivory brush onto the marble table as Shyahwyn rose, turned right and headed into the bedroom, air wafting on her tanned skin and cooling it after the long, hot bath. Rather be sleeping now, she mused though there were more pressing matters to attend to tonight. Moving in with her, both women continued instead toward the far door, to their adjoining room offered by the hotel.


“Good night, ladies,” Shyahwyn bid, gaining their smiles in return, then they both disappeared as the door closed behind them.

Giving them a few moments to get settled into their room, Shyahwyn instead turned and neared the foot of the bed, rounding the post and approached the bench seat at it’s foot and the large piece of luggage laid out. Opening it, she dug to the bottom and began removing first a black body glove. Slipping it on, she then added a black, light outfit. Tying up her long, light brown hair into a bun, the Pachmari witch then added a wrap around her head and face, leaving only her eyes unveiled. That done, a slender pair of close fitting, black glasses became the final touch. Gazing around the room, the thermal imaging offered the assassin heat signatures of those in adjoining rooms, her two ladies taking a shower together and offering their ducha privacy until the next morning. More than enough time, she mused.


Empowering herself with the Force, the shapely noble moved to the patio, gliding between the curtains and was gone.




“This whole thing’s been a set up from the beginning,” Kerinos stated to his co-conspirators, seated in the ambassador’s private suite. “She’s wormed her way into our home and with the death of my father, taken everything for herself. Now, I have to enjoy the scraps from her table,” his ice blue eyes as cold as they appeared naturally. “She has to die.”


Nodding, the ambassador listened intently, his serious demeanor and affiliations within a sect of the Rifle Worlds the main reason he was here - seeking allies. “My benefactors have an interest in the Gate Worlds, but we have to tread carefully here. So far, all I have is hearsay. I need proof.”


Taking out a datadisc, Kerinos leaned forward and handed it to the ambassador, then sat back. “There is all the proof you need.”


Sliding the disc into his own datapad, the middle-aged man read through the information with interest, then nodded.

“You say this poison that you administered to the outer surface of the glass was ignored by her when she touched it?” Kalex glanced up, eyeing the noble and quietly listened.


Nodding, Kerinos grinned as if holding the smoking blaster that would finally rid his home of the usurper. “Her lady-in-waiting held it within a napkin, so wasn’t effected. I warned her ahead of time, she was always a great servant to my mother, so.”


Kalex’s eyes went back to the small monitor. “This poison, you say was manufactured in the basement of the palace? How was she able to do that without anyone, including your father, knowing?”


“She had many under her sway. Don’t know how she did that, unless they were being serviced in private.” Hands steepled before his chin, Kerinos’ hatred was palpable for his mother-in-law. His two accomplices seated to either side of their small circle remained silent.


Nodding quietly, Kalex lowered his arms as he returned his attention to the noble. “I think you have more than enough here to at least gain the support of my friends. But, unless she’s eliminated and you have control of the navy as you promised, I can’t move on this. Not right now.”


“Don’t worry, I’ll get what you need.”


“Alright,” Kalex grinned, slipping the datapad and disc into his pocket. Raising his glass of wine, he grinned. “To potential partners.”


Mimicking the same with their own glasses, Kerinos smiled. “And a new day in the Gate Worlds.”




Not long after everyone else left, Kerinos readied for bed, though in truth wasn’t going to be able to sleep tonight. With Antonia and his daughter back home, he hoped that they wouldn’t be caught in the middle of all this and instead understand why he did what he was about to accomplish for the family.


Light’s out, he settled in for the night, comfortable in the sheets and blanket and soon drifted off to sleep.



Drifting in with the breeze, the wraith in black slithered into the bedroom, noting to her left the slumbering form of her son-in-law and conspirator against her name and house. The safety of Sargon and her family was in danger. Right hand quietly rose as the shadowed form moved to the side of the bed, left angling toward the target’s head just in case. A needle protruded from her right hand and she lowered it to his neck, the tiny drops landing on the exposed skin and allowing her to just as quietly drift back, Kerinos remaining unaware of his impending doom.


Leaving the room as stealthfully as she had arrived, the assassin returned to her own room and undressed, folding and tucking all the black clothing into the bottom of her luggage, then moved to the bed and laid down. Cut the head off of the krayt dragon, she mused.