CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

JAHLE

The children would not speak to him.

They scurried around him like frightened koedeer. They brought him meals. They tended his wounds. They spoke to each other of how Mel fared. They gossiped about how her fever burned. How she rambled in her sleep. And later, in relieved voices, they spoke of how she seemed healthier now, her sleep restful and her color returning.

He was thankful for the news. While he did not want Mel to suffer, he avoided seeing her. When he had sneaked into the med-bay late one night to watch her sleep, he had been horrified by the paleness of her skin. To hear that she was recovering was a blessing. The children had taken good care of her.

Yet they would not speak to him.

Nor would they meet his eyes.

Jahle lay on the narrow bed in a spare room of the ship. From the narrow sliver of portal above him, he spotted stars moving at an incredible rate, moving past in a blur. He could not bring himself to care about his destination.

I am cursed.

As a son, he had failed his family.

As a brother, he had betrayed his blood.

As an honor guard, he had betrayed his king.

As a man, he had betrayed his honor.

He rolled on the narrow cot, turning his face to the wall and swallowing back his grunt of pain. His chest ached where Dogan had crushed his ribs. His lung had ruptured, but that would heal. Scars meant nothing to him, because nothing could heal the ache in his chest.

My brother is dead.

When they had boarded the ship, Mel had used the last of her strength to leave an SOS message directed to the only name she knew: Kovos of Cadam. He might have stopped her if he had been awake, but he had succumbed to the pain.

The pain did not matter.

Kovos of Cadam might be swayed to offer leniency to the children and to Mel, but Jahle knew what awaited him.

Death.

Execution.

If Kovos was kind, it would be quick. But a traitor did not deserve mercy.

Jahle closed his eyes, willing sleep to take him.

***

He woke to the sound of sirens. He stumbled out of his bed, clutching a hand to his ribs, and staggered to the cockpit. He noticed that the stars were no longer bright streaks, but spots of light once more.

Have we stopped? Why?

Eien chewed on his lip, staring at the screen.

“What is it?” Jahle didn’t really expect an answer. Or least, not a direct one.

Eien turned to the child beside him, a wide-eyed boy named Alay who was young enough to find comfort in sucking his fingers. “We’re being boarded.”

“By who?”

Eien shook his head.

With a grunt of frustration, Jahle stumbled to the rear of the ship. He leaned against the wall, willing his broken body to cooperate. Eien walked up silently beside him.

“You should go hide,” Jahle told him.

The boy said nothing, but his lips were bloodless where they pressed together.

“What’s going on?” Mel emerged from a side corridor. She leaned against the wall and coughed. “Trouble?”

A lump rose to Jahle’s throat. He had avoided seeing Mel. When she had come to visit him, he had turned his face to the wall, enduring the silence until she had snapped, yelled, stormed off. Then her fever had worsened, and while he had crept in to see her, they had not shared words in days.

“I do not know yet,” he said. His voice sounded too loud in the close confines of the ship. “We are being boarded.”

Mel’s eyes narrowed. “They coming through that door?”

Eien nodded. “Only way in from space.”

“We got guns?”

They did not, but Eien darted into a storage closet and returned with three heavy lengths of pipe. Jahle noticed that the tip of Mel’s pipe shook as she held it.

“You two stay behind me,” he ordered.

“Like hell,” Mel replied. She took her place beside him.

Soon they heard movement behind the door. With a groan, the door opened. Jahle straightened as the first few figures entered. He recognized them. In their orange and sky blue uniforms, they could only belong to one house. The soldiers held weapons, which they kept pointed at the ground. Mel hefted her pipe, reading the threat even without words.

The first of the soldiers pulled off his helmet, revealing a young, unmated male with bright green eyes. He studied Jahle, barely glanced at Eien, and then his eyes lit on Mel.

To Jahle’s surprise, the stranger bowed. “Greetings. I am Akinoresh Un’Cadam, known as Resh. Lord Kovostad Il'Haron Ar'Cadam sends his fondest regards to the Lady Melissa Harlock of Earth. He bids me to escort you to Cadam.”

Mel blinked. “What?”

The Ennoi man smiled at Mel in a way that made the scales on Jahle’s chest ripple. “Your sister Lady Jenna Harlock of Earth sends her regards.”

“What?” Mel dropped the pipe.

“She says you owe her a pizza dinner.”

***

The rest of the trip to Cadam passed in luxury aboard Resh’s ship. Medics tended to their injuries. For the first time in years, Jahle received a proper oil bath. He sank into the tub, letting the oil draw away the dirt from his scales and hair.

When he emerged, he rubbed his scales with a cloth until they gleamed. He found a simple gray tunic laid out on his bed. A purple shawl lay beside it. The servant in the corner bowed. “My apologies, Lord Jahle. That is the closest to Geran colors we could find.”

Lord Jahle.

It has been a long time since I’ve been addressed as such.

He ran his fingers over the lush fabric, far silkier than anything to which he was accustomed. “It will do.”

He pulled on the clothes and the servant set to brushing and braiding his slick hair, looping it in simple coils. Jahle studied his face in the mirror. With the gray and purple clothing, he resembled his oldest brother, Mikkil. They had the same sharp features, though Jahle had inherited their father’s nose. He ran his fingers over the purple shawl. It had been so long since he had worn his clan’s colors.

The weight of his shame seemed to double.

He was not worthy of wearing these colors.

“We will land upon Cadam momentarily, my lord,” the servant said, tucking the final braid in place. “You may watch the approach from the observation deck.”

Earlier, when Resh had shown them the observation deck, Jahle had averted his eyes. They were entering Cadam territory. If he had looked out across the vast emptiness of space, he would have spotted the planet’s sun in the distance. But he might also have seen space dust and litter. Signs of a battle.

Signs of the attack that took his family’s lives.

Instead he had lowered his head, and prayed.

This close to the actual planet of Cadam, he felt braver. It was only right he watch his fate approach. He found Mel and Eien on the observation deck, peering down through the glass at the curve of planet below. Cadam was a direct contrast to Geran’s hard browns. It was swirled with bright swaths of greenery and snow-capped mountains. Jahle found himself admiring the world.

The planet of his enemies.

The planet where he would die for his sins.

Beside him, Mel sighed. Her gown was a simple white dress, though she wore two shawls of pale green and blue around her shoulders. Her hair was slicked back and studded with tiny jewels. In the light of Cadam’s moons, she looked ethereal.

“I never thought I’d see something like this,” she whispered.

“Me neither,” Jahle said.

“Resh says my sister is down there.”

Resh. He bristled at the familiarity in her tone. The sensation of jealousy was a new one to him. He didn’t enjoy it. “What else does Resh say?”

“You talking to me now?” She cocked an eyebrow at him.

What does it matter? I am a dead man, anyway.

He steeled himself against the weak thought.

No, she should not mourn his passing.

“I cannot forgive you for interfering in my argument with Dogan,” he said, blandly.

“Argument? You call that an argument?” Her voice rose several octaves as she took the bait. “I’d hate to see what you call a fight.”

“I was doing fine without you.”

“I saved you, buddy. You would have died.”

“Many would have died without you, Mel,” Eien interjected quietly. He kept his eyes fixed firmly on the planet below, as if the globe was the most fascinating of sights.

“You stay out of this,” she snapped at the boy. “I don’t need you to fight my battles.”

“And I do not need you to fight mine,” Jahle said. “If not for you, my brother…”

He couldn’t bring himself to speak the falsehood that Dogan would have been made to see sense. That the battle could have ended without a death.

“Whatever.” Mel spun away and marched off.

Jahle and Eien stood in silence, watching the planet grow larger, filling the screen. The ship approached Cadam’s capital city, Ados. When they landed, soldiers stepped into the observation room.

Jahle expected Eien to leave without a word, but to his surprise, the boy dropped his head and stared at the ground before speaking. “I should give gratitude for my arrival here. I would not be alive if it were not for the actions of certain individuals.”

Jahle cleared his throat, uncertain of what to do next. If he addressed the boy directly, Eien would be required by protocol to snub him. If he said nothing, the boy might believe his parents had spoken true about Jahle’s character. Before he could respond, Eien nodded to the ground and walked away.

It is better than nothing, Jahle decided.

When he made to leave the observation deck, the soldiers stepped forward. Two walked ahead, while the other two followed behind him. Despite the medical attention, the bath, and the new clothes, Jahle remained an enemy to Cadam and its people.

He was still a prisoner.

In the departure bay, he found Mel chatting with Resh. He averted his eyes, focusing on the neat lines of soldiers at attention, and the bustling landing crew visible through the door’s wide window. Jahle wondered when last he had seen so many people gathered together.

Mel giggled, and the sound made his back stiffen. He glared out the window, flanked by his armed guards, until Resh stepped up.

“Are you ready, Lord Jahle?” he asked. While his words were respectful, his tone was casual and light.

Jahle’s mouth moved before his brain could catch up. “You should stay away from her.”

Resh’s lips twitched. “What you are talking about?”

“Mel,” Jahle growled. “She is not a plaything.”

“I am not playing,” Resh replied. “I was ordered by Lord Kovos to attend to her every comfort. To treat her as royalty.”

“And you always do what your lord commands?”

“Always. My honor rests on it.” Resh smiled, but his face held no humor. “Without honor, a man is nothing.”

The barb sank into Jahle’s heart, but he kept silent, his face neutral. At Resh’s command, the door slid open, silently. Cool air caressed Jahle’s cheeks. The fresh scent of flowers washed over him.

With the door open, the bustling sounds of the Cadam spaceport filled the ship. A luggage loader pushing a cart gawked at the party as Resh stepped out, Mel and the children at his side. Mel’s head twisted this way and that as she took in everything surrounding them.

The two guards in front of him straightened, and Jahle followed when they began to walk.

Outside, he found Resh bowing to a tall Ennoi woman clad in sparkling orange and blue robes. Her graying hair was braided into an ornate style that dangled between the horns curving from her forehead.

Lady Dovena Il’Cadam.

Jahle had heard much about her. She was strong and ruthless, and when her husband, Lord Gemet, had passed, she took the mantle of rulership upon herself until her son, Kovos, came of age.

Beside her stood a young Ennoi man, dressed in the same bright colors. Jahle frowned. He had expected Kovos to be older. The boy was of similar age as Eien. The colors on his skin would likely only settle in a year or two. As he watched, the boy shifted from foot to foot and suppressed a yawn.

Dovena nodded and smiled at Mel, and Resh rose from his bow. He took Mel’s hand and led her away. The pleasant smile on Dovena’s face dropped when her eyes landed on Jahle. Her gaze seemed to strip him down to his soul. She gestured him forward.

He swallowed hard, trying to hide the nerves in his gut. When he reached her, he debated bowing. Her demeanor showed she expected it of him, but his pride wouldn’t allow him to lower his head. He kept his chin up, and his eyes fixed on her face.

“So,” Dovena said, her mouth twisting. “You’re the Geran boy.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Jahle saw Mel stop. Resh took her elbow and attempted to lead her away, but she shook him off.

“I am,” Jahle said.

“Mother,” said the young Ennoi man.

Mother. So this is Kovos.

“Hush.” Dovena raised her hand and the Ennoi man fell silent.

It seemed strange how Dogan’s hatred had fixed itself on the young Ennoi prince. The shame in Jahle’s chest grew.

All this time, Dogan picked on a child.

“How are matters on Geran?” Dovena asked.

Jahle blinked. It was a question he had not expected. He pondered her question. “Unsettled.”

Did he imagine the twitch of her lips?

Dovena watched him in silence. Her scrutiny made his skin itch. He felt a need to move, to walk, to run. But he held himself back.

“Why are you here?” Dovena asked.

Another disconcerting question, but it was one to which he knew the answer. He had practiced the words to himself as he lay in his bed, staring at the ceiling. He cleared his throat, and lifted his voice.

“I am Jahlekron Ar'Geran. I am a traitor to my own people, the Ennoi Geran, and an enemy to the Ennoi Cadam. I have broken my sacred vows as an honor guard, and I have killed my king. My own brother. I am a traitor.”

In the ensuing silence, Jahle heard Mel’s frantic whisper to Resh. “What’s going on?”

“Ah.” Dovena straightened. “In that case, you are under arrest, Jahlekron Ar'Geran. You will await trial and your subsequent execution.”