New Dawn (Divine War Book 1) (18 page)

“Could the Supreme Emperor pull this off?” he asked Kabi. “I have a gut feeling that this is bait to lure us into something.”

“Sire,” interrupted General Tongku, “I agree with Fleming that this smells fishy. I think we should send in a squad of men to verify this information before we come to any conclusions.”

The King looked at Kabi, who nodded slowly.

“In answer to your question, Your Majesty,” he said, “yes, I believe the Emperor can pull this off. This ship is...” He hesitated for a moment before continuing: “Well, it's Black Technology. Something that I believe you gentlemen may have heard of?”

“Fairy tales!” snorted Fleming.

“Not at all,” spoke up another council member, Professor Ulros, Dean of the Royal University. “Black Technology is perfectly real. However, if memory serves me correctly, it was deemed a threat to the survival of mankind and was therefore prohibited many aeons ago. Information was destroyed or sealed, but that does not mean that the technology itself no longer exists.”

“Blasphemy!” shouted Fleming, getting to his feet. “You should be burned by the Church to say such things!”

“Fleming,” said the King, warningly.

Chastened, the angry man sat.

Kabi closed his eyes in despair. How was he to persuade these men that he wasn't a charlatan, wasn't a pawn of the Supreme Emperor?

“Your Majesty,” he said, “I assure you that everything I have told you is true, more real than the God that you serve. And more, I assure you that should this ship launch, then it will bring great calamity on Archeonis.”

“What kind of disaster?” asked the General before anyone else could speak.

Kabi looked at the King, who nodded. “All here are sworn to secrecy,” he told the man.

Sighing, Kabi ran his hand over his grey-stubbled head before looking up and facing the men at the long conference table. “His Majesty knows what I am about to say. The rest of you, however, do not. And what I will say is going to shake your belief in the very existence of Archeonis.” He was procrastinating, he knew it, putting off the moment when he was going to say something so unbelievable, so shocking, that there was a fair chance he would be laughed out of the room.

He looked around the table, noting that no one objected to what he had just said. Fine. He would just have to spit it out.

“We humans are not from Archeonis,” he said, slowly and carefully so that no one would miss a word. “We are from another planet. We are from Earth.”

A burst of chatter exploded in the room.

“Silence!” said the King.

Kabi nodded his thanks. “Your ancestors,” he continued, “were banished from Earth and embarked upon a journey into space. Eight hundred years ago, their transport crashed onto the planet we now call Archeonis. Once it became clear that this was a habitable place, every effort was made to obscure our origins in order to prevent us from returning to Earth. The technologies that brought us here were banned, the technologies that we now refer to as Black Technology.”

He stopped, and this time there was silence as everyone around the table tried to take in what they had just been told. Even Fleming sat, open mouthed. Then, one by one, the men turned their eyes to the King.

“He speaks the truth,” the King said calmly. “We are not indigenous to Archeonis. When we landed here, Archeonis was a wild planet. The pioneers, including my ancestors, decided that history would be re-written so that the people would not know of the existence of Mother Earth.” He sighed, his mouth tightening, tendons in his neck standing out with the stress. “For better or worse, we decided that this would be best for the new generations that would be born here. The secret was kept and passed down from ruler to ruler as a reminder of our roots and of our responsibility to our people.”

Slowly, and feeling indescribably old, the King rose to his feet and walked to where a large painting hung on the wall. Pressing a hidden lever so that the painting swung back, he reached inside the hidden safe and retrieved a pile of papers. One by one, he flicked through them until he found the document he needed. Only then did he turn back to the still-silent room.

“This is what I have to prove my word,” he said, handing the paper to Fleming.

Fleming read the document, mouth hanging open. Then he passed it to the next man at the table, who read it and passed it to the next, and so on until all present had read what was written.

“I can't believe this,” said Fleming, rubbing his eyes.

But his voice wasn't confrontational. It was the voice of a man who had just had everything he'd ever believed in brought into question. Someone who no longer knew what was right and what was wrong. The General flinched as he put down the document, the last man to read it.

“As you can see,” said the King, retaking his seat, “this is a document signed by the first twelve rulers of Archeonis, one from each of the islands, that says we shall hold this secret and protect our people.”

The men at the table were at a loss for what to say, and Kabi watched them struggling to deal with the bombshell that had been dropped on them. Finally, taking pity on them, he said: “Nevertheless, we have work to do. We must protect this secret with our lives.”

The King nodded, determined now that they must act. “I concur with the General that we must send in a team of infiltrators.”

The General saluted. “Sire.”

“You will assemble the best that you have,” the King ordered. “But be sure that every man understands that once they are out there, they're on their own. Britannia will deny all links to them. You have two days.”

“Yes, sire,” said the General, saluting again. His mind was already calculating which of his troops he could trust to send on this unusual, unbelievable, and possibly deadly errand.

“One more thing,” the King said, speaking to everyone now. “All that was said in this room will remain within these four walls. Understood?”

The men nodded and shuffled to their feet, still stunned at the new knowledge they had received.

“Your Majesty,” said Kabi, approaching the King, “I wish to join the General's troops.”

General Tongku, overhearing this, dropped back to hear what the King had to say.

“Very well,” said the King, looking Kabi up and down. He knew that he couldn't have ordered the man to go but was glad that he'd volunteered. “And you may take some of your own people along if you feel it necessary.”

The General nodded and escorted Kabi out of the room, discussing how many men would be needed.

The King sat back in his chair, turning to look out of the arched window beside him. In the distance, dark clouds were gathering, portending a heavy downpour. A storm was brewing.
But,
thought the King,
will we survive it?
He prayed to his God that all would be well.

*

“Can you not stay?” Benho asked, aware that his voice sounded almost pleading.

Sa-li turned from closing the shutters, preventing any drops of rain from entering their cosy chamber.

“One more time, Ben, I promise,” she said. “Lucia needs me. But this will be my last voyage. Can you wait for me?” She smiled cheekily and posed so that he could best appreciate her naked body.

“Then I'll ask if I can come too,” he said petulantly.

“You are still not in fighting shape,” Sa-li said, coming to join him on the large bed. “And besides, when I come back, I want you to be able to carry me into that church without collapsing in pain.”

Benho's eyebrows raised so high that they almost disappeared off his forehead. “Church?” he began.

But Sa-li silenced him with a kiss.

Minutes later, he was able to groan: “I'm going to miss you.”

*

“How did it go?” Maicee asked as soon as he opened the door of his chamber to Kabi.

Kabi shrugged. “Not too badly. I managed to persuade them to send a team of men with us.” He pushed inside the door. “But I'm not here about that. I brought you something.”

He handed over a large white box tied elaborately with a pink ribbon. Confused, Maicee accepted the package and lifted the lid to peek inside. When he saw the contents of the box, his eyes narrowed.

“What is the meaning of this?” he asked Kabi.

“That is for you to wear tomorrow to the princess's party,” said Kabi, turning to leave.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes,” Kabi said simply.

He slipped out of the doorway, closing the door behind him, leaving a very baffled Maicee alone in his room musing over what possible meaning this strange gift could have.

A
usanne's birthday proved
to be a huge affair. Maicee woke up to the clattering of wheels on cobblestones and the shouting of voices. Looking from his chamber window, he could see that preparations must have been going on all night. Stalls had sprung up around the castle, selling everything from souvenirs to mead. Already cooks were spitting huge joints of meat and damping down fires to begin the cooking process. The spacious marketplace had been turned into a carnival for young and old alike, with games of chance and lucky dips and all kinds of mysterious tents. Maicee reminded himself to stay away from the fortune tellers. The last thing he needed right now was a prediction that would worry him on the journey to come.

He breathed in the early morning air, tinged with the scent of smoke and the salt of the sea. He thought about going out now but decided against it. He had work to do first. Ordering breakfast to be brought to his chamber, he began the series of slow exercises that Kabi had recommended for early mornings. After the events that had taken place on the
Orion
, he was more determined than ever to get this unarmed combat thing right, and there'd be no festivities for him until he'd run each and every one of his practice drills perfectly.

For everyone else, though, the princess's birthday was a holiday. People had travelled from far and wide to get a glimpse of their future ruler, and the palace was determined not to disappoint them. Servants hurried back and forth, harried and sweating, trying to provide for the needs of the thousands of subjects who had made their way to the country's capital. The royal kitchen provided sumptuous tables of food, laid out to entice anyone who visited the normally private gardens of the princess. After lunch, the princess herself spent hours rolling slowly through the gardens in an open-topped carriage with gold-rimmed wheels, greeting those who had come to give her birthday wishes.

It was a long and exhausting day for everyone, but as the second sun began to sink, the palace musicians began to tune their instruments. The festival was far from over; there was still the costume ball to come. A particularly loud trumpet jarred Maicee out of sleep. Dammit. He'd lain down for a brief nap after pouring all his energies into his exercises and had only now woken. He barely had time to throw his costume on, doubting Kabi's choice but silently thanking him that at least he didn't need to bother tying his hair back into a queue. Flying down the stairs, he made it to the ballroom just in time to see the princess strike a large golden gong, marking the beginning of the party. He was still panting from his flight down the stairs, and it took him a moment to realise that all eyes in the room were on him.

“You look beautiful,” said a mischievous voice.

He felt himself blushing furiously as the occupants of the ballroom erupted into excited chatter, and he inwardly cursed his uncle.

“Thank you,” he said, turning to see Ausanne, who was robed in the ancient traditional costume of Romeo. “Er... you look very dashing too,” he said, surprised at her choice of costume.

Ausanne grinned at him. “Let me guess,” she said, arching an eyebrow. “Kabi choose your costume for you.”

Maicee nodded. “You too?”

“He said it would keep those irritating boys away from me, but now I think that my uncle may have been playing a small joke on us, don't you think?”

Maicee looked down at the long dress he wore, the classic deep rose and red that signified his role as Juliet. “Yes,” he said slowly. “I think he may well have been.”

Dammit. He was going to kill Kabi when he got his hands on him. This was more than a joke—this was dangerous.

“May I have this dance?” said a male voice.

Still blushing, Maicee turned and saw the King bowing solemnly in his direction. Dammit again!

“I, er, well, I don't dance very well, um, sir,” he managed to stutter.

“Not at all,” scoffed Ausanne. “She dances very well.”

Maicee felt the princess push him lightly towards the King, and feeling that he had no choice, he gave a small curtsey and accepted the King's hand. As soon as he touched the hand of his father, he felt happiness well up inside him. He almost had to bite back tears of joy as the King led him to the dance floor.

“You look like my wife did when she was your age,” the King bent and whispered into Maicee's ear as they swayed together in the middle of the floor.

Maicee swallowed hard. He wanted so much to call the man Father that it was difficult to control himself. The only thing that stopped him was the vow he'd made to Kabi.

“She bore me two daughters,” continued the King. “The elder one was lost because of my weakness. I was, and am, so terribly sorry for not being able to protect her.”

His eyes were sharp, and suddenly Maicee had the feeling that something was being shared here. Something strange—it was almost as though they were communicating telepathically, that they were both on the same wavelength, dancing around the same subject.

“I am sure,” responded Maicee, “that were your daughter here, she would be pleased to hear that she has such a loving father.” He spoke carefully, enunciating the words slowly.

The King stopped dancing as the music slowed and looked deep into Maicee's eyes before smiling and nodding. “I certainly hope so,” he said quietly. “And I thank you for this dance. It was most enjoyable.”

And then he was gone, and Maicee was left with that weird feeling, almost as if each understood but neither could speak. Then Ausanne's hand pulled at his sleeve.

“Come on,” she said.

She led him to a quiet corner.