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Ravik
In the three weeks that followed, I sat in judgment of far more trials than I cared to. Only three of the fifteen men that had come to the secret entrance had refused to join this treason—three men I would have once labeled my enemies. Of the remaining twelve, nine of them had not even been part of the original Fifteen. Their greed and resentment against the changes I was making to Braxia had been their downfall. Only four of those twelve had survived the battle. For their swift and exemplary punishment, I’d personally flayed them alive before having them nailed to a pillar outside their respective clan compounds to meet a slow death. There they would remain to rot for a full month.
In the meantime, all twelve clans came groveling for mercy. But each had to prove they held no prior knowledge of their Clan Leader’s intentions. Nine of the clans were spared. After I passed a judgement of Shunning on the remaining three, the clansmen from two of those clans banished the members that had been involved or been aware of the plot before pleading for leniency. Although I lifted the Shunning—which effectively meant the death of a clan with no one trading, dealing, or speaking with them—the stigma on their name would remain for a long while.
Mercy sat by my side throughout the trials and for every ruling. Some of the conservatives balked at a female’s presence but kept their mumbling to a minimum. My woman had earned the respect and loyalty of my people. She’d first earned her place with those trade deals she’d negotiated for many of our clans in the direst need, and then cemented it with her display of strength, combat skill, and the ruthless savagery she’d dealt to those who crossed her. Hagan’s mangled remains, his bones shattered by the shrinking whip, had been put on display at the entrance of his compound, a reminder to all who dared to cross her that retribution would be swift and unforgiving.
Mercy became Braxia’s first new Dagna in nearly 150 years, my father and grandfather having both been content to sire their heir on concubines—as I had before meeting her. And she held the role with pride and dignity. As much as Braxians had rejected hybrids, finding out their Dagna was one of the rarest Veredians alive made them rally further behind her. She could have the world at her feet but chose us. My people now considered her a national treasure, the jewel of Braxia. Any attack or threat against her would be construed as an affront against all of us.
To think I had feared revealing her true nature.
To both Mercy’s and my relief, Gorav and my bodyguards came out of this unscathed, aside from their wounded pride over their failure to keep us from getting kidnapped and tortured.
The three Guldans that had been held captive by Hagan were hobbled and dumped in the joarkal hunting territory for daring to aid Lorik in his attempted kidnapping of my mate. They’d merely been mercenaries hired by the Guldan Ambassador for his personal purpose. But while the Guldan Empire had no direct involvement in this, they had orchestrated the previous attack against us. We therefore sent a formal message to Emperor Ardrak that a full embargo had been set against any Guldan. No trade and no citizen of their home world would be allowed on Braxia. He tried to flex his muscles, threatening retaliation against us, only to have the Tuurean military leader, Admiral Lee, warn them that any attack on Braxia would be deemed an attack against them.
My Dagna had some powerful allies, and that, too, raised her prestige among our people. Granted, we didn’t have a full alliance with the Tuureans as they would only intervene in the case of a war with Guldar. However, I intended to nurture that relationship until it equaled, or even rivaled, the one they entertained with the Xelixians.
It would take two more weeks after the trials before Mercy agreed for us to have our wedding. Despite my personal physician doing miracles healing both our wounds, leaving no scars on her, and barely noticeable ones on me, the loss of her braid had struck her hard. I didn’t fully understand its importance, but her hair was growing back, and we had returned it to its original raven color. Yet, she felt bare and exposed without it, not to mention crippled in that it played an important defensive and offensive role in combat.
Mercy had taken to tying her hair in a bun to ‘hide’ how short it now was, refusing to wear a wig or extensions. But Braxian weddings, although expedited, required both mates to stand barefoot and naked except for a diaphanous robe, no jewelry or adornment, and no fancy hairdo. We’d exchanged our vows on the plaza before the Elders and the people, after which each Clan Leader took turns pledging loyalty and protection to the Dagna. A banquet followed with lots of drinking. To my dismay, Mercy warned me that she expected us to have a proper Veredian wedding the day we visited her family on Xelix Prime. It involved some extensive form of tribal dance to be performed by the bride and groom, as well as their guests.
I shuddered at the thought.
We held the fair two weeks after our wedding, Anton coming through for us above and beyond expectations. I didn’t doubt that the news of the Veredian Dagna brought even more people, if only out of curiosity. Nevertheless, many more of our goods, previously perceived as useless by us, stirred the interest of buyers and new deals were struck. But Braxia’s economy still had a long way to go, with many clans struggling. However, with more and more clans getting back on their feet thanks to these new trades, the burden on the Emergency Fund to support the others while they found their way, diminished significantly.
The first Braxian shop opened on Venus Hive. Despite its resounding success and the absurdly high prices people were willing to pay for ouruselessgoods, it quickly became obvious that our males couldn’t run that shop, not understanding the craft or the appeal of those pretty, luxury items or beauty products. To Mercy’s dismay, Braxian fathers and mates refused to let their daughters go live and work on a pleasure barge. While I understood her anger, I would never admit that I, too, would have refused to let any daughter of mine go there without a full contingent to look after her.
Yeah, I still had a long way to go with this equality thing.
Finally, it was agreed to send Celia, Clan Leader Colpen’s half-breed daughter. A pretty little thing, she’d been quite abused before I abolished the laws making slaves and half-breed females free-for-all. To his credit, Niklas had made his best efforts to send her away on various tasks whenever he had guests coming to his compound, but by law, even his clansmen could make use of her as they pleased. Now in her late thirties, although still beautiful, no man would take her as a concubine or wife, even with the changing mentalities, for she’d been too extensively used. Venus Hive gave her a chance at a new beginning, while still aiding the home world.
Mercy became a stout defender and protector of the hybrid females, providing them with employment in her new lab, and education to give them a chance at a better future. Although she struggled with the idea of being ‘shackled’ to Braxia, she decided to move the headquarters of her research center here, actually buying extensive lands near the Keltrix Market to build the facility, as well as a small residential area for the staff who would join. On top of a generous salary increase, as an added incentive, employees who relocated here would have a free home built and decorated to their specifications—although based on predetermined templates to respect Braxian architecture.
While Braxians eyed this sudden influx of foreigners with a certain amount of wariness, they welcomed the financial benefits with so much construction work to be done, from basic infrastructure, to roads, and everything else in-between. More importantly, some of the research projects Mercy intended to run were drawing the interest of some of the most brilliant minds in the galaxy. Right behind them, many investors wanted first dibs at the development licenses for some of her most revolutionary patents.
Sometimes, I almost felt ashamed by the tremendous help my mate had been. Without her, I doubted my reforms could have blossomed the way they currently were without bloodshed. Thanks to Mercy’s wonderful insight about the women’s craft, and now with her research center, she’d brought early proof to my people of the viability of my changes.
Still, we needed to pace ourselves. The men still struggled with their females working and contributing to their respective clan’s income. Finding out Mercy was planning some basic combat training for the women proved too much for the men to handle. I walked into our bedroom, bracing for what I knew would be a heated conversation, only to find her already waiting for me, arms crossed, a mulish expression on her face. I groaned inwardly, and my shoulders slumped.
“Woman, don’t…”
“Don’t woman me!” Mercy said in a hard voice. “This is not open for debate.”
“Mercy, you know I’m an advocate for change, but you can’t just flip everything on its head overnight and not expect people to balk,” I argued running my fingers through my hair. “The men have made plenty of concessions. Give them time to adjust before you demand more from them.”
“It has nothing to do with them!” Mercy snapped back. “Why do men always have to make everything about themselves?”
“Because we are insecure idiots, and we need our females to coddle us otherwise we break. And when we do, it’s excessive and ugly,” I said, slowly approaching her.
She snorted. “THAT’s your justification?”
“It’s not a justification, merely facts,” I said with a shrug. “Don’t you think I deal with the same headache every time I—”
A subtle, unusual scent stopped me dead in my tracks. My nostrils flared as I inhaled deeply, parsing what struck me as an abnormal combination. Understanding finally dawned on me. My chest constricted at the same time my heart soared.
“What’s wrong,” Mercy asked, a look of confusion on her beautiful face.
“There will be no more fighting or training for you,” I growled closing the distance between us. “I forbid it.”
