Bringing Stella Home (45 page)

“
That all of this is
happening. That you are honor-bound to, ah, to—”

He turned and brought a hand to her
cheek. Sholpan’s eyes burned, and before she knew what was
happening, her head was in her hands, tears streaming down her
face.

“
I’m so sorry,” she cried.
“I don’t want you to have to kill your own son.”

He stared at her for a long moment, as
if surprised by her outburst of emotion. For a long time, neither
of them said anything.

“
There has to be a way,”
Sholpan said, recomposing herself. “There just
has
to be a way to get around
this.”

“
No, Sholpan,” Qasar
answered softly. “I cannot turn away from my duty. As captain of
the
Lion of Tenguri
, I am honor-bound to enforce my rule. If my own ship fell
into disorder, how could the rest of the fleet trust my
command?”

Honor-bound,
Sholpan thought bitterly to herself. Honor before
mercy, honor before justice—

No peace without honor.

“
Wait,” she said. “Gazan
dishonored me before he turned against you, did he not?”

“
What do you
mean?”

“
By beating me. I know he
insulted your honor by doing that, but what about mine?”

“
I suppose,” he answered,
shrugging. “Since you are my wife, your honor is tied up in
mine.”

“
Exactly. So mutiny or not,
he owes a debt of honor to me.”

Qasar frowned. “Where are you going
with this?”

“
Can’t you see? Your son
doesn’t have to die—not if I have a claim on him first.”

Qasar said nothing. He brought his
hand to his chin and stroked his beard.

“
But he has committed
mutiny—”

“
Only to escape from his
debt. For you to kill him before I can reclaim my honor—that would
be unfair.”

She stared at him long and
hard.
Please,
she
inwardly pleaded,
give me this one chance
to make things right.

“
Can a woman’s honor be
worth so much?”

“
Is it worth your son’s
life? Do you trust me when I say I want to save him?”

His eyes met hers. “You would save the
boy who nearly killed you?”

“
Yes,” said Sholpan. “For
the sake of peace, I would do it.”

He gazed at her for a long while in
silence. Sholpan held her breath waiting for his
response.

“
You are a strong and noble
woman, Sholpan,” Qasar said softly. “Yes, I trust you.”

Sholpan felt a thrill pass through her
body, starting at the back of her neck and extending all the way
out to her fingers. A strong and noble woman—among the Hameji,
those were not words spoken lightly.

“
Then give him to me,” she
said. “Let me be the mediator. I promise, I’ll get you through
this.”

Qasar smiled. “Yes, my shy goddess,”
he said. “I trust you will.”

* * * * *

The observation deck was packed for
Gazan’s judgment. Every living soul on the ship seemed to be in
attendance—Sholpan even recognized some of the concubines. Tamu
smiled and waved, her dress only slightly more modest than the
half-open bathrobe she always wore. Sholpan nodded at her as she
took her place on the stand with Qasar’s other wives.

“
Hello,” said Zeline, an
unreadable expression on her face. Two lavishly dressed women sat
on the other side of her. They both looked to be in their
mid-thirties, with olive skin and dark hair much like Lady
Zeline’s. From the suspicious way they eyed her, Sholpan knew them
at once as Qasar’s other wives.

Please don’t hate
me,
she wanted to say.
I’m not what you think I am.

The full crowd before the observation
windows milled about, talking amongst themselves. At the hiss of
the elevator door, however, the room immediately grew silent.
Sholpan rose with the other wives as Qasar strode in, dressed in a
trim scarlet uniform with a jewel-studded golden sword holstered on
his belt. Gray-clad officers flanked him on either side, the
colorful epaulets and badges on their shoulders denoting their high
rank. As Qasar took his seat at the center of the stand—wives on
his left and officers on his right—his every movement radiated
power, as if he were some kind of god. Gone was the man who had
sobbed on Sholpan’s shoulder for the sake of his son, replaced by
the cold, iron discipline of absolute command.

“
Bring in the criminals,”
Qasar ordered. In the silence, his loud voice reverberated across
the entire room.

The first officer to his right nodded
and rose to his feet. “Bring them in,” he commanded the
guards.

A door opened on the right
side of the room, and the crowd parted to allow ten prisoners and
over a dozen black-clad soldiers through to the stand in front.
Sholpan craned her neck to get a better view. The nine officers and
crew members of the
Flame of
Destiny
stared in shame at the floor, but
Gazan kept his head raised high, wearing his pride like a badge of
honor. His eyes met hers, and a scowl of naked contempt spread
across his face.

“
The prisoners, milord,”
said the officer.

“
Of what do they stand
accused?” Qasar bellowed.

“
Of mutiny and sedition,
milord. The conspirators were caught in the act, and have all
confessed to their crimes. Besides their confessions, we have many
other infallible witnesses to prove their guilt.”

This isn’t going to
work,
Sholpan thought to herself, nervously
tapping her feet.
Gazan will never accept
my mercy. The other wives will think I orchestrated the
whole—

She shook her head and snapped herself
out of it. Her heart pounded in her chest, but she took a deep
breath and calmed herself. This was going to work. It had
to.

Qasar rose slowly to his feet, eyes
never leaving his son. “Is this true?”

Gazan stared back in defiance, but his
cheeks paled ever so slightly. “Yes, Father,” he said, his voice
barely audible.

“
Why, my son? Why would you
do this to me?”

Gazan said nothing.

Here it comes,
Sholpan thought to herself. She gripped the
armrests on her chair and leaned forward.

“
You know what I am
required to do,” said Qasar, his voice as dead as a machine. “As
supreme commander of the fleet, I—”

“
Milord,” Sholpan said,
rising to her feet. “I demand that you stop this trial at
once.”

Every eye on the deck turned to stare
at her. Several of the officers frowned in disapproval, while
Zeline and the other wives reeled with bewilderment. A murmur of
surprise rippled through the crowd like a shock wave. Sholpan drew
in a sharp breath and tried very hard to look confident.

“
What is the meaning of
this insolence?” snapped one of the officers—an overweight,
gray-haired man with a balding head and scraggly beard. “How can
this woman—”

“
Silence,” said Qasar,
raising his hand. He turned to face her. “What do you have to
say?”

Here goes
nothing.

“
I have a claim on this
man,” she said, loud enough that everyone on the deck could hear.
“It was not you he betrayed, but me. Do you see these wounds?” She
pulled up her sleeves to show her bruised arms. “Your son came to
me three days ago and beat me most savagely. For this I demand to
judge him myself.”

The rumble grew to a roar. Gazan
narrowed his bloodshot eyes at her.

Qasar silenced the crowd with a wave
of his hand. “You wish to lay claim to my son?” he asked. “He has
been proven guilty of mutiny.”

“
He is not guilty of
mutiny,” said Sholpan, “but only of avoiding the punishment that is
his proper due. Because his crime against me preceded his mutiny,
and was the main cause behind his attempt to leave the fleet, I
demand to pass judgment on him first.”

“
It is not the place of a
woman to sit as judge,” barked the fat officer.

Sholpan gripped the guardrail to the
stand with white-knuckled fingers.

“
But as victim, it is my
right by honor.”

Qasar brought his hand to his chin.
“I’ll decide that, my dear. But tell me—if you could judge him,
what would your judgment be?”

Sholpan knew that he could never be
seen to bow to her. They had rehearsed this next part together very
carefully—she must only push hard enough to allow him to make a
graceful compromise.

“
It is not right for a son
to beat his husband’s wife,” she said, glancing over the crowd to
gauge their reaction. “Such behavior brings dishonor upon all
parties involved. Therefore, the punishment must not only absolve
the crime, but wipe the stain of dishonor from the
family.”

“
If you strip me of my
inheritance,” Gazan hissed, “I’ll—”

“
Silence!” boomed Qasar.
The room grew deathly still.

“
Few things are more
disgraceful than for a father to kill his own son,” Sholpan
continued. “And as for stripping him of his rightful inheritance,
that is not much better. Therefore, I propose that Gazan be made to
join with the main forward fleet and fight in my name. By winning
honor and glory for us both, I believe that his debts will be
absolved.”

The crowd murmured in approval—or what
Sholpan desperately hoped was approval. The officers didn’t seem
too convinced, and the wives still looked at her as if she were
crazy.

“
And what of his act of
treason?” Qasar asked.

“
I do not think he is
guilty of treason so much as trying to escape his due punishment,”
said Sholpan, reciting the practiced words. “Did he attempt to do
anything more than run away? I think not.”

“
Milord,” said the fat
officer, “may I remind you, the mutineers were caught in the
act.”

“
Perhaps,” said Qasar. “Yet
my Sholpan speaks the truth, after a fashion. Would you have me
kill my own son?”

“
Forgive him!” shouted a
lone voice from the crowd. Several others took up the cry, making
the officer’s cheeks turn red.

It’s working.

Qasar rose to his feet, and the crowd
drew silent. He turned to Gazan.

“
What do you think of this,
my son? Is this acceptable?”

Gazan scowled. “I don’t owe you
anything,” he hissed at Sholpan in a voice too soft for most of the
crowd to hear. Qasar frowned in disapproval.

“
I don’t want you to owe
me,” Sholpan hastily whispered. “I just want you to
live.”

“
Why?”

“
I already told you—because
we don’t have to be enemies.”

Gazan blinked. For several moments, he
said nothing. Next to her, the wives stirred and glanced in
puzzlement from one to another.

“
Very well,” said Gazan,
turning to his father. “If these are the terms, I
accept.”

A mixed cheer rose from the crowd. For
a split second, Sholpan saw Qasar smile.

“
We will send you with a
security detachment on the next supply convoy,” he said. “When you
arrive with the main fleet, you will deliver Tagatai my message. He
will serve as your commanding officer, and you must follow his
orders with exactness in all things. If you fight nobly, you will
rise to positions of authority. Earn command of a ship, and I will
accept you into my fleet once again.”

“
Yes, Father,” said Gazan,
emotion rising in his voice. “Thank you.” They embraced, and the
crowd cheered.

It worked,
Sholpan realized.
It
really worked!

She turned to the other wives.
Zeline’s face was still unreadable, but the others viewed her with
a strange mix of confusion and admiration. They looked away as soon
as she glanced at them, but Sholpan saw enough to notice the subtle
change.

The rest of the assembly
passed quickly. Qasar condemned the other nine conspirators to
death, and granted command of the
Flame of
Destiny
to one of his distinguished
officers. The soldiers led the prisoners off to the airlocks to be
executed, pale-faced and frightened.

“
Excellent work, my dear,”
said Qasar to her privately as the crowd began to disperse. “You
have a gift for politics.”

“
Thank you.”

“
In fifteen hours, I am
leaving for my court at Kardunash III. I had thought you would need
some time to adjust, but judging from how well you played the
mediator, I would be greatly honored if you would join
me.”

Sholpan swallowed. She glanced at
Zeline and the others, but they were already on their way
out.

“
Are you taking any of your
other wives?” she asked.

“
Of course not,” said
Qasar. “Their place is here on my ship.”