MAN OF WAR

11

Titus rushed in through the side corridors attempting to go unseen. He should have never allowed Jade to distract him, but what red-blooded man could have resisted her wiles? She was so wild and tempting. It was impossible to say no. He could hardly tear himself away from her long enough to appear tonight. Titus was terribly late as it was and hoped to sneak in unnoticed.

            Titus had never been so happy to know the ins and outs of the palace from his youth. He could find his way in without being seen, and none would be the wiser. He turned right, heading to the side doors that came up from the gardens when he heard a soft sound that caught his attention. It was the sound of sobbing. He ventured farther into the garden to find the source.

            Among the rose bushes and seated on one of the various sculpted stone benches sat the Crowned Princess. She was dressed in a fine red gown with a dulcet intricate netting draped over the skirt. Her long golden curls were pinned in a precarious configuration. A silver tiara atop it all. She was crying into her hands.

            Titus looked around the garden for a guard or an escort but found none. No lady in waiting, not even a servant, she was alone when she should be inside happily meeting her husband to be. He should go inside, Titus thought, taking a step toward the great hall. He paused, hearing her sob once more. Titus knew he was overstepping his station, but he turned and came around the rose bushes to confront Gaia.

            He stepped from the shadows, and Gaia jumped when she noticed him. She wiped her tears and tried to compose herself. “Your Majesty, what distresses you so?” He asked, bowing to her.

            Gaia offered him a weak smile when she realized who he was. “It is only you,” she shifted over and adjusted the skirt of her ball gown. “Please sit with me,” she said, gesturing to the empty space on the stone bench.

            Titus looked at the seat she offered. It would bring him indecently close to her, their arms and legs practically touching. As children, it was one thing to run and play with little care to the world around them, but they were grown now, and such things were simply not done. “It would be inappropriate, Your Majesty,” he respectfully declined.

            “Are we not friends?” She asked, hopefully.

            Titus wanted to say yes, but he knew his place in the world, and it was not as her friend. “I am a humble servant.”

            Gaia frowned and folded her hands in her lap as she cast her eyes down sadly. “Yes, I know,” she whispered. “We have grown,” she sighed. “I miss those days old. Back when times were simple. Life has become so much more complicated, and darkness looms on the horizon.” He sympathizes with her pain. He too longed for when life was simple.

            “Why do you cry?” Titus asked, taking an uncertain step closer.

            “I am to be married,” she said, trying to force a smile, but he could see the tears once more.

            “Should this not be a happy time?” He asked.

            “Should I be happy?” Gaia asked. “Happy that my father has sold me to a man I have never met? A man, the servants, whisper about. I have heard the whispers. They say he is a tyrant. How can I ever be happy?”

            Titus could understand her distress. He had seen the effects of a loveless marriage in his mother’s. It had all but destroyed the lovely woman she had once been. Titus moved closer and knelt before Gaia. “Your Majesty, it is the way things are done. Perhaps, in time, love will come. Your mother learned to love your father,” he said, trying to be comforting.

            She made a sound that resembled both a sob and a laugh. “It is a façade for the benefit of the people,” Gaia confessed. “My mother cannot stand my father. She has bared him his children as is her duty, but she has spent my childhood pacing these stone halls like a ghost pining for another man.”

            Titus was shocked by this; the imperial family had always seemed so happy. “What other man?” He asked. He knew it was none of his business, but his curiosity had gotten the better of him.

            “I do not know. She has never said, but the ways she sometimes looks when she is gazing out the window when she is lost in memory,” Gaia smiled as she pictured seeing her mother as a child. “It is an undying love. She has never looked at my father like that. I do not wish that for myself.”

            Titus knew he was overstepping the boundaries of propriety when he decided to offer her comfort. He took the seat next to Gaia, and his leg brushed the fabric of her skirt. “As you said, Your Majesty, you have not met Prince Victor as of yet. How do you know you will not love him?”  

            “How can I love a tyrant?”

            “How do you know him to be a tyrant? I beg your forgiveness, but you have fallen prey to palace gossip. Servants talk, and they often hate their betters. It is all relevant; one man’s tyrant is another man’s hero. I have killed my share of men, taken many prisoners and made them slaves. I have no doubt that if you asked among those, you would hear talk that I am a villain, but talk does not make it so. Perhaps you have misjudged the Prince,” Titus suggested.

            Gaia sighed and wiped another tear that rolled down her cheek. “Do you really think so?”

            “There is but one way to know,” he said, offering her a supportive grin. “Now, dry those eyes and let us go inside,” Titus took a handkerchief from his pocket and offered it to Gaia. She accepted it gratefully and used it to dab her eyes dry. “We do not want you to look sad before the people.”

            “You are a good man Admiral,” she smiled. “Let no one tell you otherwise,” Gaia rose to her feet and took a deep breath, finding her composure. “I believe that I am now ready to face my fate,” she said, handing him back his handkerchief. “Will you escort me inside?”

            Titus rose to his feet and offered her an uneasy smile. “As much pleasure as that would be, Your Majesty, I believe it unwise. I do not wish to jeopardize your reputation by having you seen in my company without the benefit of your chaperone,” he said bowing.

            Gaia bowed her head to him. “Then perhaps you might save me a dance later this evening,” she smiled.

            “As you wish, Your Majesty,” he said happily. Titus watched as Gaia walked away. He would give her time to make her appearance before he headed inside. She would distract everyone, and luckily, no one would notice him arriving late.

            He did wait a good five minutes or so before continuing into the great hall. He entered through a servants’ entrance and went unnoticed as hoped. All were standing as the trumpets sounded announcing the arrival of the foreign dignitaries. Titus navigated the crowd and found himself a place where he could view the event. He looked to the throne, where the Emperor was eagerly awaiting the arrival of his guests. He was smiling despite the weary, tired look on his face.

            Rumours had begun to circulate that the Emperor’s days were limited. His health was failing, and the palace healer had little success in curing what ailed him. The Empress stood at his side, and Titus still found it hard to believe she was so unhappy. She was a woman of great poise and grace. Her grief and emotion never once showed to the people. Gaia stood by her mother’s side with a dazzling smile. Like her mother, she knew the importance of presenting a unified front. She was the people’s princess, and she would remain strong for them.

            Titus turned his attention to the opened doors and the arrival of the foreign King and Queen of Galanadar, the kingdom across the sea. Their lands were not as vast as the Kumun Empire, nor were their treasury as rich, but their kingdom had not faced the ravages of war for the better part of a decade and a half. The Galanadar army was strong with plenty of able-bodied men to enlist if necessary, which was exactly what the Emperor was seeking by uniting the two through marriage. Kumun reinforced its armies against Sakwa, and Galanadar increased their wealth.

            Prince Victor would, in time, inherit both Kumun upon the Emperor’s passing as well as Galanadar upon his own father’s death (which, judging from the age of the old man toddling along, would not be long), unifying both lands as one powerful empire. The King and Queen entered draped in finery and jewels with a certain arrogance about them, but royalty usually did. Titus had seen the same arrogance in his own rulers as well, and most of the nobility. He supposed it was part of being born in to privilege.

            The King and Queen were graciously greeted and shown to their seats. The gifts they brought were accepted and placed to the side by servants. Then the grand event, the trumpets sounded, and the Crowned Prince of Galanadar was announced. A hush fell over the hall. Everyone wished to get a good look at the man that was meant to be their next Emperor. In stepped a man that looked to be in his mid-thirties. His hair was light, and his complexion was too. He was thin but well dressed and well-groomed, perhaps overly groomed, as if he spent far too much time doting on himself. He was a man of luxury and excess. Titus would have bet his life on it.

            This was to be their Emperor? The man that Kumun men should fight and die for? A flip-flop dandy to rule a nation of warriors? What was the Emperor thinking to choose this man as his heir? Titus disliked him immediately. The man looked like a weasel. He had an aura of negativity radiating from him that did not sit well with Titus. Perhaps he had been too quick to dismiss palace gossip. Titus watched as Prince Victor approached the Emperor. The Prince bowed gracefully.

            “Prince Victor, I cannot express how delighted we are to welcome you to your new home,” the Emperor said with a wide smile. He held out his hand to Gaia, and she reluctantly accepted it and stepped forward. “May I present my eldest daughter, the Crowned Princess Gaia and your bride.”

            The Prince took her hand, and Titus noticed Gaia wince as he placed a kiss to her knuckles. “Charmed,” he said, releasing her hand, smiling at the Empress. “I see great beauty runs in the family,” his eyes fell to Princess Samantha and lingered indecently long, a flirtatious smile twisting his thin lips. Samantha brazenly returned his heated gaze for all to see. Not even married, and the man was already selecting his mistress and so publicly. Titus clenched his teeth with outrage. The man had no decency.

            The Prince returned his less than interested attention to Gaia, who was now doing her very best to hide her public humiliation. He held out his hand to her, and she accepted it. “A dance with my bride-to-be?” He suggested as the music began.

            “Of course, Your Majesty,” Gaia said bitterly as he led her out onto the dance floor. Titus felt for his old friend, Gaia had been right to dread her husband. Titus could not say what sort of ruler the man might be, but he would make the worst sort of husband. A part of him pitied her.

            “So, this is where you have been hiding, Admiral,” a young female voice broke into his thoughts. Titus turned and found himself facing down Lady Genevieve, this was her third year at court, and she was aggressively seeking a husband. She had set her sights on Titus the night the Emperor had promoted him. She was lovely enough with her brown hair and dark eyes. Her figure was much like all the other ladies, starved to fit themselves into their gowns. Primped and pampered with scented oils and many jewels, weighed down with heavy gowns with large skirts. Her life was parties and tailors.

            The daughter of a nobleman, she was a fine catch for any fighting man. Marriage to this woman was a chance for a fighting man to ensure his place in the upper crust of society, provided that was something he wished for. With officers having risen so quickly in social standing over the last decade in the Emperor’s court, many well-born ladies were set to wed themselves to high ranking officers for the prestige and to reap the rewards bestowed by the Emperor. Lady Genevieve had it set in her mind to bag herself the next Admiral of the Fleet.

            Titus looked around for a dignified escape route but saw none. He would be forced to face the pretty serpent. “You are a villain, Sir, forcing a poor Lady to stand on the side like a sad little wallflower when she could be dancing,” Lady Genevieve smiled playfully, tapping his arm with her folded fan to scold him.

            Titus sighed. He had no way out. He held out his hand and offered his most dashing smile. “I do so apologize for my neglect, My Lady. Would you do me the honour of dancing with me?”

            “Of course, Admiral,” she smiled, taking his hand. Titus led her out onto the floor and held her at the proper distance to waltz her around the room. He would much prefer to have held her father, but he could do little about it. “I have not seen you all night, Admiral; you have been hiding from me,” Lady Genevieve smiled. He had not, but perhaps he should have, Titus thought. “It must be so exciting for you. So young and but one step away from commanding an Imperial fleet. So very successful, are you aware that you are the youngest officer to have ever made your rank?” She said with a knowing smile.

            “Is that so?” Titus drawled, he was aware of his success, but he tried not to act as if it were important. He wished to downplay the significance of it. The damn thing made him a walking target at court. Titus wished the Emperor would allow them to ship out, so he could flee these marriage-minded women and their conniving mothers.

            “Oh yes, my mother assures me of it. My father says you are, without a doubt, the best officer in the Emperor’s armada,” she informed him.

            “Well, I must be sure to thank him for his confidence in me.”

            “He says it will not be long before you are promoted to a Fleet Admiral. That is the highest rank you can hold, is it not?” She asked leadingly.

            “You have an uncanny grasp of naval proceedings,” Titus said with a smile.

            “And then what will you do when you have reached the top and can go no further. You will need to settle down, select a bride, and sire an heir.”

            “I assume one day I might,” he said reluctantly, thinking the song lasted far too long. He wished the music would end.

            “Perhaps a union with a noble family. Assure yourself a title,” she suggested, batting her long lashes at him suggestively.

            Titus did not know what to say to get himself out of this. A tap on his shoulder drew his attention and brought their dance to a pause. Logan stood there, offering Lady Genevieve a bow and an apologetic smile. “I do apologize, My Lady, but the Emperor requires the attention of his officers. I must steal the Admiral away.”

            Titus looked around and noticed that many of the officers were discreetly slipping away from the party. It was a genuine excuse, and he could not be happier to have received it. Titus turned and offered Lady Genevieve a bow. “My apologies, My Lady, but duty calls,” he left her standing on the dance floor, and he quickly exited the great hall with Logan.

            “You looked in need of rescuing,” Logan teased.

            “I do detest marriage-minded females,” he said, following Logan into the side corridors were the other officers had gone.

            “You are the victim of your own success,” Logan said, rubbing the side of his face. Titus noted the entire right side was still slightly red and blistered from his run-in with Jade the other day. She had done quite the number to Logan’s face, Titus had not felt the need to lecture his friend, and he did not think he would be foolhardy enough to attempt assaulting her twice.

            “How is your face?” Titus asked, smirking at him. Logan shot him a nasty glare as they entered another hall. There was a long table which had many seats, and each officer took one. The Emperor seated himself at the head of the table and exhaled a heavy sigh. Titus took his seat and leaned over to Logan. “Do you know what this is about?”

            “I believe he wishes to know where we stand on finding the prisoner and the spy that released him.”

            Titus cringed, knowing they had nothing good to report. The Emperor demanded the report, and excuses rambled down the table. His old face twisted with annoyance and frustration as the of his best fighting forces made excuses. The Emperor slammed his withered old fists down on the table, and the commotion came to a halt. “Damn it; I do not want excuses! I want answers! I want results!” He screamed hoarsely.

            Titus felt his heart beating wildly. The last thing he wished was to face down an irate man that could, at a whim, lop off his head for incompetence, but someone had to say something besides dribble. Titus rose to his feet nervously. “With all respect, Your Majesty, we are not hunting a normal prisoner. We are hunting a man with the capability to be anyone or anything. He could have very likely become a horse with the stamina to run all night or have grown wings and simply flown away. There is no telling how much distance he could put between himself and us in a night’s time, nor which direction he might have gone. We may never find him. We would do better to focus our attention on finding the spy that released him. Perhaps he told them where he was headed, and we can track him that way,” Titus said, taking a breath, hoping not to have outraged the Emperor.

            The Emperor leaned back in his seat, thinking about what Titus had said. “Very well, I accept that we are dealing with an unusual prisoner. So, tell me this, Admiral Titus, who released him?” He demanded.

            Titus paused, unsure of what to say; he had no answer. He could think of no one that would be a viable suspect. “The shifter w***e would be a likely suspect,” General Carter piped up. Titus’ heart almost stopped as Jade became the focus of attention.

            “Yes,” agreed another General. “She would no doubt release him in a heartbeat if given a chance.”

            “She could not have done this,” Titus protested with more urgency in his tone then he had intended to.

            “You are only saying that because you wish to protect your assets,” General Carter snarled.

            “I say this because it is a fact. Let us be reasonable for a moment,” Titus said, pushing out his chair and starting to walk around the table. “We are all men of intellect and strategy. Let us think like the enemy for a moment. First, how would that tiny slip of a girl get from the soldiers’ quarters to the Emperor’s bed chambers unnoticed by a single soul looking the way she does? How would she even know how to find the Emperor’s bed chamber, or even know where to look for the crystal once she was inside?” He asked, looking around at the other officers who were all quietly looking around the table thoughtfully.

His gaze fell to the Emperor; it was his opinion that mattered most.

            “Second…” Titus went on, continuing to walk around the table; his heart was still beating wildly as if he was going into battle. He had to convince these men to look elsewhere. “If she had stolen his crystal in order to free him, why would she had not had also taken her own and escaped with him? It was right there beside his, and yet it went untouched, and she is still here. Which means the sole purpose of the theft had been to free just him. It makes no sense that she would not free herself if she were the culprit,” he looked around, pleased to see he was winning some of the men over with his reasoning.

            “Because it is unlikely, does not mean it is impossible. She might have stayed behind to spy on us and feed information back to the rebellion,” General Carter snapped.

            Titus glared at his step-father. The man was contradicting him just for the sake of contradicting him. He stopped where he stood and fixed the General with a hard stare. “I know for a fact she could not have done this. She was with me all night.”

            “You are only saying this because you are enjoying her wiles,” Carter mocked him.

            Titus smiled. “I am saying this because I was with her all night… enjoying her.”

            “You are willing to place your reputation on the line for a w***e?” Carter asked.

            Titus felt his blood boil. He would like to strangle the man for his insolence. Titus placed his hands on the table and leaned forward to stare his step-father down. “I am willing to place my reputation on the line because I am right.”

            “He is right,” the Emperor spoke, bringing a smile to Titus’ face. He breathed a sigh of relief. He had succeeded in his goal of diverting attention away from Jade; now, he had a new problem. “So now that we know who it is not, perhaps you can tell me who it is,” the Emperor suggested staring at Titus.

            The General grinned maniacally pleased that Titus was on the spot. “Yes, Admiral, you know so much, enlighten us old warhorses.”

            Titus swallowed hard, not sure what to say. He thought for a moment. “I do not know,” he admitted.

            “Why are we listening to a child?” Carter growled. “He clearly knows no more than we do.”

            “I know enough to know that the first people we should seek out are those who have access to the private quarters of the palace. They are the most likely to be the spy or to have seen someone of suspect,” Titus snapped.

            The Emperor looked thoughtfully and scratched his chin. “I shall have the palace guard start rounding up suspects,” Titus smiled triumphantly at his step-father; he had won yet another round. “Let us return to my guests,” the Emperor rose and exited the room, followed by the officers in attendance.

            General Carter paused as he passed Titus. “You are lucky, boy, that the Emperor has a liking for you. Perhaps the new one may have more sense,” he seethed, pushing passed. He doubted the new Emperor had any wartime sense. He did not strike Titus as the strategic military mind this one was. Titus sighed; he predicted dark times ahead.