Page 4 of Infiltration

Perhaps a hint of the desperate fear he’d compartmentalized and hidden so well from himself during his incarceration showed. Oiteil leaned close and whispered so the others couldn’t hear. “You and I need to talk once you’re settled in. There is a great deal you can do yet for the empire.”

“You will hear from me soon.” Yuder tried to show anticipation for Oiteil’s kindness, but he was aware of the restrictions placed on him. He couldn’t even serve on an agricultural committee. Public service was no longer in his sphere.

Chapter Two

Yuder swallowed a feeling of dread he’d managed to block in the last few weeks’ excitement of returning to Kalquor. What would life be if he couldn’t serve his empire?

“Seeing you makes me wish not just for the old days, but the missed opportunity to have seen Clan Zarl and Clan Clajak on the governing dais at once,” Oiteil sighed, loud enough to include the rest of them. “Imagine the fiery debates that would have taken place if Emperor Yuder, Crown Prince Clajak, and Princess Jessica faced off against the likes of Ospar and Rajhir.”

Eyes widened to hear the names of the two former councilmen who’d been indicted alongside Yuder. Thanks to the former emperor taking sole responsibility for the crime they’d been accused of, Ospar and Rajhir had served no prison sentences, but they’d still been banned from public service for life.

“It’s no use wondering what might have been.” Clajak’s tone was gentle but firm. “We do better to look to the future, which I’m thankful to know you’ll be a part of, Councilman.”

Oiteil bowed. “You’re too kind, my emperor. Speaking of debates, if you’ll excuse me, I must return to my chambers. We’re still ironing out the details of next year’s military budget.”

“I know you feel work is helping you at such a difficult time, but if you need a break—” Jessica began.

“I’m fine, my empress, thank you. Welcome home, Imperial Father. I hope to hear from you soon.”

Oiteil left. Clajak scowled, a ghost of his temper, as infamous as Jessica’s, showing itself. “Imagine bringing up Ospar and Rajhir. What was he thinking?”

“I wonder what’s happened to his voice. He hardly sounds like himself,” Jessica said.

Yuder hadn’t noticed anything odd about Oiteil’s tone, but he hadn’t spoken to him in years. He’d probably miss many nuances in the coming days.

Tara said, “Don’t forget, he’s grieving the loss of his clanmates. They were together for more than a hundred years. If he isn’t sobbing his heart out behind closed doors, I’d be amazed. He’s a Dramok, after all, not a Nobek.” She squeezed Yuder’s arm. He also had enjoyed over a hundred years of clanship with Zarl, his Dramok, and their Imdiko Tidro.

His throat closed at the losses he’d endured. First Clajak’s mother Irdis, who’d been so young when she’d died. Zarl and Tidro had lived long lives, but by then, the shadows of illness and scandal had touched them.

“This is no place to hold a homecoming,” Tara abruptly announced. “Shall we go in for a proper party?”

“Let’s.” Clajak’s tone was adamant. “My father is home…and no doubt his grandchildren are growing impatient waiting for him.”

“Yes.” Yuder was grateful to switch to such a delightful subject as they headed for the lift that would take them to the living areas of the Imperial Home. “Tell me how tall Wayne and Noelle have grown so I won’t be too shocked when I see them.”

* * * *

The celebration was a small affair in Clan Clajak’s section of the cliff home. Yuder was delighted to be among his family, but he was grateful two hours later when he and Tara entered their own apartments a few levels down.

He gazed at the greeting room, where visitors to the home were entertained. He mused at how familiar and yet strange it appeared. Tara hadn’t changed the cozy seating areas of low tables and floor cushions. The handwoven rugs featuring designs of royal purple were the same, as were the paintings and few decorative items scattered on various surfaces. Why did it appear odd, as if he saw it through a stranger’s eyes?

“Are you all right?” Tara’s gaze riveted on him, and he realized he’d been silent as he took in their surroundings.

He offered a smile. “I’m getting my bearings. Three years is longer than it sounds.”

She moved close and hugged him. “I’ve spent little time here myself since you went away. It finally feels like home.”

He kissed her and realized it was their first since he’d arrived. Her lips were soft and yielding. He hadn’t had to wait three years to kiss her, thanks to her frequent visits, but in prison he hadn’t felt capable of kissing herwell.

He did so now, glorying in her lips moving sinuously on his and the warmth of her tiny body against his six-and-a-half-foot frame. Had he forgotten how fragile she felt? The need to shield her from danger rose, though the threats to Kalquor and its residents had ceased. Such was the persona of a Nobek, the breed born to protect.

Her lips parted, and he eagerly accepted her invitation to taste. His tongue delighted in her flavor as it twined with hers. She sighed and pressed closer, little fingers tracing his back, bringing chills to his spine and heat elsewhere.

My love.

He released the kiss. “I want to reclaim you in every room of our home. Starting in here.”

She giggled, sounding more a girl than a woman in her sixties. She looked far younger, no doubt a result of her routine of meditation, clean eating, a rigorous skin care regimen, and devoted exercise. If Tara had one fault, it was vanity. “My last great attachment to conquer,” she often sighed.

---