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After less than thirty minutes of following the pods, a Guldan battlecruiser decloaked, four of its tractor beams latching on to the first few pods in range. Still cloaked, the Drakkar stopped out of weapons and detection range. Too small to see, the egg-shaped delivery containers attached to the pods, five on each, flew off the surface of the escape vessel and burst open, spilling their contents into space; viral nanites specially programmed by yours truly.
As more of the pods approached, two destroyers decloaked, each firing their tractor beams at the incoming escape capsules. Although the Drakkar was a bigger, more powerful vessel, the Guldan ships were of a far more advanced design. Their combined firepower could seriously jeopardize the Braxian ship’s integrity.
The destroyers had only drawn in a couple of the pods, the battlecruiser having captured at least a dozen, when the nanites’ magic began to manifest itself. Four frigates surrounding the other three ships blinked in and out of existence, their cloaks disintegrating. The crew of the battlecruiser was the first to realize we’d turned their trap on them. They released the new set of pods they’d been reeling in and opened their hatch, no doubt intent on dumping their previous catch.
“Blow them up,” Ravik said, a feral expression on his face.
“Acknowledged,” Baldur said, setting off the charges that had been loaded in the pods.
The battlecruiser shook from the violence of the multiple detonations, its hull breaching in various locations. The destroyers were obliterated within seconds, the first explosion nearly splitting them in half before chain explosions finished them off. Three of the frigates managed to warp out of there, the fourth sustaining severe damage from flying debris.
“Let’s go finish them,” said a blonde-haired officer with light-brown eyes.
“No,” Ravik said. “As much as I want to crush their bones with my bare hands, the three who jumped might return with friends. Baldur, get us as far away from here as possible. I have some Guldans to meet back home.”
“Yes, Magnar,” Baldur said, hitting his chest with his fist.
Ravik extended a hand towards me. Without a word, I took it and let him lead me off the bridge.
Chapter 7
Ravik
We landed on Braxia a little after nightfall. Despite her eagerness to go to her brother’s home, Ravena agreed to stay the night at my fortress. Beyond my selfish need to have her with me—and in my bed—I didn’t want her entering that place without having it secured first. Having her by my side before my subjects, my scent all over her, my claim clearly stated, would give any Braxian pause before they considered messing with her in any way.
Krygor Aldriss and Raylor Caldes greeted us at the landing pad. To my surprise, Caldes seemed genuinely pleased by our early arrival. I had expected him to be fuming about the failed abduction attempt. But he only appeared impatient to have me meet his Guldan guests. Although he would have had time to regain control of his emotions, Raylor had never been much of an actor, his feelings always plain to see. I wondered then if he truly had no clue what had transpired. This, in turn, raised the question as to whether the Guldans were merely using him as a puppet in a more nefarious scheme.
As we entered my hall, the female servants got on their knees, their heads bent in submission. Their male counterparts stood in a tight row behind them, heads also bowed and hands clasped behind their backs. My guards, guests, and clansmen held a fist to their chests. Ravena bristled at this sight. Her disapproval stung. Yet, she would have been far more offended six years ago before I had begun implementing changes in the treatment of women.
I waved a hand for them to rise, which signaled the males to be at ease. All eyes openly spied my woman with a mix of curiosity, hostility, and awe at her beauty. My chest swelled with pride, not only to have such a female on my arm, but at the poised, regal way in which she carried herself, unfazed by the open scrutiny she’d fallen under.
My sons approached us, their gazes lingering on Ravena before shifting back to me.
“Father,” they said, pressing their fists to their chests.
“My sons,” I said, placing a hand on one shoulder each and giving them an affectionate squeeze. Turning towards my woman, I gestured at my sons. “Ravena, this is Keran, my oldest, and Ganek my youngest. Sons, this is Ravena.”
I placed a possessive hand on her hip for all to see the nature of our relationship. The need to call her my concubine burned my tongue, but she hadn’t given her formal consent… nor had I asked.
My sons’ eyes widened in an almost imperceptible manner. I knew them too well for it to escape my notice. Still, they saluted her the same way they had me. She responded with the traditional Veredian greeting, placing her palm on her heart before waving her hand towards them in an offering gesture.
“A pleasure to meet you…” Ravena hesitated, uncertain what to call them.
“Jakar would be the title used for my sons,” I said, gently.
She gave me a grateful smile. “A pleasure to meet you, Jakar Keran, and you Jakar Ganek.”
“The pleasure is ours, Madam,” Keran said, an indecipherable look on his face. “I hope you are both hungry as we awaited your return for evening meal.”
“We are indeed,” I said, gesturing for Keran to lead the way.
He nodded his full head of hair, as black as mine and his youngest brother’s. Turning on his heels, he marched towards the dining hall where the Elder Clan Leaders would joins us. My gaze roamed proudly over my sons and the rippling muscles of their strong backs. Born to me from different long-ago concubines—now returned to their respective clans—their height and size nearly matched mine, and their features left no doubt as to the identity of their sire. However, both sons had inherited their mothers’ eyes with Keran’s being grey and Ganek’s being brown.
The dining hall’s dark grey walls and maroon stone floors would have been somber if not for the tall windows through which Braxia’s sun bathed the room with a soft light. In the center of the room, a large table shaped as a U could accommodate twenty-five people. My sons usually sat next to me at the head. The elders would divide equally along the sides with whatever distinguished guest might be in attendance. The cushioned, high-back chairs lined the outer side of the tables, the center area remaining unencumbered so that servants could easily serve us and performers—usually erotic dancers—could entertain us.
Across the room, in front of the main table, twelve ten-person tables were reserved for senior or honored members of each of the Elder Clans. On the left and right sides of the main table, long but narrow tables were set for wives and concubines. The females quietly filed in. Like the males, they stood in front of their chairs, waiting for my sons and me to be seated first.
A single glance sufficed for Ravena to understand that, as a female, she’d be expected to sit with the other women. The look on her face made no mystery I’d have a fight on my hands if I sent her there. How could I have forgotten to discuss the Braxian protocols with her in the 24 hours it took us to get here?
