Page 24 of Alien Prince’s Fake Bride (The Tentacle Throne #1)
- Mareliux -
General Praberol Sporiux’s tent is simple and functional. There’s a map table in the middle, next to the main pole, a sleeping cubicle, a conference area, metal chests, and a heap of weapons.
“It’s good to see you again, Prax,” I say as I draw Bellatriz. “Too much time goes by between each time we meet.”
“Time passes faster and faster, Mars,” the young general says, using my nickname that only my friends use in private.
He puts his helmet on a side table along with his gloves.
“They say it’s just the way we perceive it, but I disagree.
Time really does keep speeding up. I notice your bodyguard will be standing outside.
I’ll have some food brought to him.” He draws his sword, too.
“Don’t,” I tell him as I bring the hilt of my blade to my forehead, giving the traditional dueler’s salute. “Caret’ax hates that kind of thing. It only gets in the way, he says. He’ll be fine, just as long as he can do his job.”
“I don’t think you really need him here,” the general says as he removes one armor plate from his suit, making himself vulnerable in an unspoken gesture of trust. “Grefve Base is a friendly place for you. Any army base would be.” He returns my greeting.
“I know, but try convincing Caret’ax of that,” I reply drily as I take up a tense dueling stance.
“A dutiful man, then. You pick your people well. How did you find that alien woman? I found it hard to take my eyes off her.” Prab thrusts first, a well aimed stroke that I just have time to parry. Sparks fly from both our blades.
I chuckle. “She’s surprisingly attractive, isn’t she? I mean, I’ve met some aliens in my day. But none of them ever made me want to… well, to actually marry. It’s not just the looks, Prab. She’s got a warrior’s fire and a softness that’s disarming.” I feign a slash, then turn it into a quick jab.
Prab easily parries and retreats. “A dangerous combination. So there is really something between you two? It’s not all completely fake?”
“The wedding and the marriage are fake,” I assure him. “But the connection, the spark — I won't deny it's there, stronger than I expected. But there should be some, right? It will make the deception more effective. People can see it.” I lunge forwards and hack Bellatriz at his neck.
His parry is off by a fraction, and Bellatriz hits his armored arm with a dull clang .
“True. By the way, I’ve made sure that very few know about the true nature of the wedding.
There’s only me, Colonel Grast, and her team.
The extraction team, that we hope not to have to use.
All women, all some of the best fighters we have.
Your bride will be in the best hands, whatever happens,”
“With Grast in charge, I pity any resistance they might meet,” I agree as I hack again, this time from the other side. “But as you say, we hope to not need them. I spotted Quaestor Preniat outside where we landed. The Emperor’s own advisor, in his grey robes. How long has he been here?”
We exchange slashes and parries for a while. Prab has practiced since last time, that much is obvious.
“He arrived right before you did. He just had time to present his authority to me before you touched down.” The general retreats behind the table, then shifts his sword to his other hand and thrusts.
I barely escape his blade by sidestepping. “What’s his mission?”
“His mission is to inspect the base. The vaguest mission possible.” He throws the sword back into his other hand and thrusts again.
Already out of balance, I can’t parry or avoid the blade. I have to reach out with Syntrix to keep it from nicking my ear. “So he’s here to spy. To spy on me , you think? Would he have had time to get here, after I announced to the Emperor that I would be getting married?”
“Not from Khav,” Prab says, giving me time to recover. “It’s too far. But if he were somewhere else at the time, say, Visk or Limanet or Xo, then he could have made it here on time. I don’t like that man, Mars. He’s a real slike .”
“He’s the chief slike,” I ponder, not happy about what I’m hearing. “The Emperor must be suspicious about this whole wedding thing.”
“The Emperor, or someone else,” the legate says carefully as he renews his attack, thrusting from the other side of the table. “Does the Emperor himself really care that much anymore? Doesn’t he just long for death’s sweet embrace now?”
“I thought he did, but he cares enough to command me to get married before he’d let me inherit the throne. So who knows.” I parry again. But now I see a weakness in my friend’s fighting style.
“ Someone cares about that,” the legate says, coming out from beside the table and thrusting again. “Maybe the Emperor. Maybe someone else.”
I parry, setting up for the final attack that will skewer him. “You mean my mother, the Empress?”
“I don’t mean anyone in particular. But if that’s where your mind goes, then who am I to argue?” He hacks at me, but he has signaled his intention too clearly and I parry without any trouble.
I start to get into the right position to attack and win. “It would be just like her. She knows that when the Emperor is gone, she loses her power. Unless the next emperor is someone she can control. Someone like Nerox.”
Prab slashes again, running out of ideas.
“Your brother would be her preference, I suppose. She certainly can’t control you .
But Nerox never matured. He’s still a child, spoiled and untested, always surrounded by attractive women.
My guess is he would appoint his mother — your mother, the Empress Juriniel — to be regent and rule instead of him. ”
“You may well be right,” I agree, struggling to keep track of both the swordfight and the conversation.
“It would be a disaster for the Empire,” the general frets.
“Already we’re weak, because the Emperor is weak.
But the Empress has a gift for the Syntrix, they say.
Its darker side, apparently. I know she is your mother, Mars, and I will shut up if you want that.
With the Tentacle Throne to help her, only the gods know what will happen.
Most likely our enemies will overwhelm us, and the galaxy will descend into chaos, tyranny, starvation, and death.
The Vyrpy will kill half our people. And those will be the lucky ones.
A Phrexz ship was seen in the Cur system, it is said. ”
His words make me lose momentum. “A Phrexz? Recently?”
“Just a few days ago. I imagine you were not informed because there was only a blip, not anything solid. But I’ve never known General Klariux to exaggerate his reports.”
“Neither have I,” I ponder. “That’s all we need now. A Phrexz plot.”
“Maybe it was just a scout, Mars. But we should be on our guard. For now, we must avoid any unworthy person sitting on the Tentacle Throne.” In his worry about the future, Prab makes a mistake and sets up his hack just a little bit too obviously. It gives me a tiny opening, which is all I need.
I slash my sword at him, and the blade cuts into his shoulder and goes all across him before it reappears on the other side.
Bellatriz has of course made herself phase-shift, so that her clear crystal blade simply doesn’t exist inside Prab’s body and only comes back into existence on the other side of him. He stiffens.
“We must avoid it,” I agree. “But we’re almost there. After I marry, nobody can have any objection against me being next in line for the throne.”
“True.” He holds his sword up in defeat, blade down. “You win, Mars. I must say it’s disconcerting to fight someone armed with Bellatriz. It does feel as if it goes right through for real. Thank you for not killing me.”
“ You’re welcome,” Bellatriz says cheerfully. “ And thank you for giving our prince the realistic practice. You’re both getting better.”
I replace her in her scabbard. “Sorry, Prab. But you left yourself wide open.”
He grunts in annoyance. “Sometimes I think we should all have legendary swords that were left by some mysterious alien species and have the ability to flick out of and into existence like that.”
“When we find another one, I’m sure we will give it to you,” I state and wipe sweat from my brow. “This exercises both the mind and the body. Thank you for this, Prab. There aren’t many I can trust to fight me and not hold back.”
My friend sits down and wipes his sweat. “It may have been the last time. After you’re emperor, your visits will be even rarer than now.”
“I will bring you to Khav,” I tell him, taking a sip of a drink. “I will need you there.”
He laughs and lifts his own glass. “Oh no, you don’t. Having one slike like Preniat slithering around the base is bad enough. There’s no way I’ll go and live in the very place that they come from. Get ready now. You’re not getting married today. Don’t miss it.”