"Assumed Dead - 06, Fruition" by Melia Arney

Erom awoke and knew instantly something was wrong. First off he didn’t remember falling asleep, secondly he never slept on duty, thirdly it was too quiet. A manor the size of the Taren estate was always alive with activity even at this time of night. At the very least there should have been a few slaves cleaning here and there. So used to seeing them that he had stopped noticing them when he was two, their absence worried him more than anything.

He began running towards Talio’s quarters. He cast inward for the mental connection between them. He felt nothing and ran faster. There were few reasons why her aura would be blocked from him, none of them good, one of them unthinkable.

Talio’s door was closed and locked, nothing unusual there. He rubbed the sweat off his palm and placed it on the scanner. The door unlocked, and he pushed it open. For a brief moment he was relieved. Talio was asleep; nothing in the room seemed out of place or disturbed. But that didn’t explain why he couldn’t sense her. She wasn’t a Caster; she couldn’t block her own aura, nor would she if she could. Not from him.

Erom took a step into the room. Out of habit he closed the door once inside. An open door was an all too easy way for an enemy to enter. Talio slept undisturbed. That was wrong. She was a light sleeper. Opening the door should have woken her.

"Talio?" Erom called softly. Six steps had him at her side when she still didn’t wake. One look told him she never would.

Never in his life was Erom as thankful for his training as at that moment. Without being able to let cold logic take over he would have been forced to deal with his emotions, forced to deal with his wife lying dead and bloodied in front of him. As it was he could pretend it was the corpse of a stranger. A stranger stabbed several times in vital areas. The attacker knew what he was doing. The body showed signs of struggle. Just like Talio to not go down without a fight. A small crack formed in his shield when he thought of that, but he managed to patch it over.

Now that he was looking for it, Erom could tell that certain items in the room had been moved slightly, nothing anyone any less familiar with this room would notice, a lamp on the wrong side of a table, the chair pushed a little too far to the left. After the fight the attacker must have put the room to rights. Why? He had also put the body in the bed, covering her as if she were merely asleep. Again, why? Assassination was uncommon, though not heard of among Kaesynalic nobility, but the placement of the body said this was personal to the killer, not a simple political move.

Several things were obvious. There were only two ways into this room, through the main door and through the side door that lead into his own quarters. Neither door had been forced and that only he could enter through the side one. That, added with the fact that the room had been arranged near perfectly after the fight, said the killer had access to Talio’s quarters and was quite familiar with them. Erom could count those suspects on one hand. But only one of them was close enough to Erom to be able to slip him a drug to knock him out while the attack took place.

"Caught in the act, Erom? That’s not like you."

Erom spun, the morphstones of his calhara activating. The wristblades of an Epor were not a common sight outside of Diomair, but Erom liked that since they were strapped to his arms instead of held in his hands, he could wield them and a blaster at the same time.

"You’re getting slow," Iranius Joent said, standing in the door to the room. "I would have expected you to have me impaled by now."

"It is not my right."

"Ahh, yes, honor. An outdated notion if you ask me. Still, it has its uses."

"Why, Iranius? Why kill her? Your own sister in law? The woman all but you and I think is your wife?"

"My dear brother, I didn’t kill Talio Taren. You did."

"How dare you!" Erom took a threatening step towards Iranius.

The other man didn’t even twitched when Erom’s temper flared. He simply crossed the room and sat casually in one of the armchairs. He never took his eyes off of Erom, but he didn’t show any signs of nervousness either.

"I’d check that temper if I were you," he said conversationally. "No matter how she died or by whose hand, you are responsible. Besides, I am only stating the facts as anyone would see them. You have access to this room, you have access to Talio, no one has seen you or her for several hours, you ordered this wing emptied of servants, and everyone knows you love her. There have been plenty of rumors about the real reason she took you as her protector. You betrayed yourself when you put that mark on your hand."

Erom didn’t trust Joent enough to risk a glance, though instinct made him want to look at the mark. One long scar from the tip of his middle finger on his right hand to the end of his palm and another perpendicular to it. The long one was part of a Kaesynalic marriage ceremony. Adding the second announced his intention to never marry. He’d had to add that one to hide the fact that he’d gotten the first when he’d married Talio.

"Of course you had no choice but to get it the day of our supposed marriage, but you must see the connotation of deciding never to marry the day your old girlfriend weds."

"Get to the point, Iranius."

"My point should be obvious. You loved Talio, but she chose to marry someone else. For a while you were placated by the lesser honor of being her bodyguard, but constantly being reminded of what you could never had festered inside you until one day, evening I mean considering the time, you finally snapped. You killed her in a fit of rage. If you couldn’t have her no one could, and then, not being able to stand the sight of her mangled body you placed her in the bed as if she were asleep. I, feeling her aura extinguished, rushed to this room, calling for guards. Here I found you bent over her body. Really, Erom, you’ve been in my way far too long now. Your outdated ideals are not helping this planet at all. All that kind of thinking is doing is holding us back."

"And that excuses murder?!" Erom could feel his shield breaking. The only thing that kept him from attacking was the smirk on Joent’s face. Erom knew that look far too well. His brother still had move to make. A good one too for that level of confidence. "What do you hope to accomplish by this?"

"Quite a lot actually. Your killing spree has presented me with a unique opportunity. You have removed one obstacle from my way, and now all that remains is yourself."

"I didn’t kill her!"

"Yes, yes, so you say."

Erom lunged. Before even he realized he’d moved, he found both blades of the calhara pressed to either side of Joent’s neck. He desperately tried to reconstruct the unfeeling mask of a bodyguard, but couldn’t. He tried to remind himself that Joent hadn’t yet actually admitted to killing Talio, almost, but never quite. And even if he had killed her, the life of the murderer went to the eldest child, not the spouse. The arguments all died in his head, though, without ever reaching his conscious thought.

"I wouldn’t do what you’re thinking of doing, Erom. I’m sure we’d both hate to see those beautiful girls lose their father."

Erom leaned in closer; the blades drew twin lines of blood on Joent’s neck. "I’m their father."

Joent winced at the cuts, but didn’t lose his smirk. "They don’t know that. And if I die, they’ll never know it. Do you honestly think they’ll believe you? After this they’ll only think you’re trying to make up lies to keep them from killing you. Not that they’d get the chance to ever hear your arguments anyway. If I die tonight, I can assure you they’ll both be dead by morning."

The change was instantaneous. Erom stepped back and deactivated his weapons, shoulders sagging in defeat. "What do you want, Iranius?"

His man in the chair sneered, pulled a handkerchief from his pocket, and began dabbing at the blood on his neck. "I want you to listen. Do you hear that noise out in the hall?"

"Yes, the guards you called. And when they get here?"

"You will surrender, of course. You’re too full of remorse for your actions to do anything else. Feel free to even make a confession."

"And then?"

"Once you’re outside, I don’t want the manor messed up in the battle, you will attempt to escape and die in the process. I hope you can manage something that simple. I would hate to injure either of your daughters if it weren’t absolutely necessary."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Iranius Joent was pleased with the events of the evening. One powerful enemy had been put aside, opening the way for more elaborate plans. As for Erom, he had chosen to flee rather than let himself be killed. Luckily he had made a full, properly recorded confession before that. Well-laid evidence had also been gathered, all pointing to Erom’s guilt. As far as the planet knew, Erom Syrett murdered Talio Taren. There was only a slim chance Erom would make it off the planet alive now. No one really expected him to attempt to leave the planet, though. No Kaesynalic ever willingly left the Imperium, better death than exile among the barbarian Offworlders.

Joent laughed to himself. Erom was too predictable. Slim as his chances were for getting off planet, Joent held no doubts in his mind that Erom would succeed if he hadn’t already. He’d either seen through the bluff or decided he could better protect his children alive. It made little difference in the end. Either way would lead him away from the Imperium. He was little threat out there. In all truth Joent still would have slept better with Erom dead, but those same elaborate plans Talio’s death had given birth to called for his brother’s continued existence. A temporary measure he’d been assured.

Now it was time to turn his attention to other matters. There wasn’t much he could do to bring Jaerri back under his power immediately; that would look suspicious. Good plans took time, though, so that wasn’t a problem. By the time he had everything worked out, the suspicion would be passed. The most difficult part would be finding a catalyst, something to set events in motion that would lead to Jaerri coming to him on her own. That was necessary. He needed her loyal. If he had to control her by force, she’d be of little use. Surely one of his spies in the Dejine Order could come up with something suitable. He had one loyal enough to do something drastic if it came to that.