Chapter 8 - Part A

Atlantis was still confined to her own chambers.  She had almost given up hope when hope finally arrived in the form of an envelope. She clutched the small piece of folded paper in her hand.  Yesterday, Drey, Marria’s husband had arrived at her chambers with a small carved wooden cube the guards had allowed it through on the pretense that it was a gift, but Atlantis recognized it as one of Drey's famous puzzle boxes, that the children in the palace, followed him around and begged him to make.  They were lenient, knowing that Drey was a recent widower, and let him pass a few private words with the Empress.  The guards studied his gift briefly after Drey took his leave, but discarded the small box as only artistic. Trying to contain her calm demeanor, Atlantis nonchalantly took her leave of the guards in the garden and returned to her private chambers.  It was a design that she was familiar with, and after sliding her fingers over the smooth corners, she opened the box easily.  On a carefully folded piece of paper, he’d written a short note.
    Marria alive. With Ryder.  Do you need help? What was lost is found again.
    That was it.  The message said nothing else, but brought such a surge of hope that Atlantis actually smiled for the first time in days.  Deep relief coursed through her.  Marria was alive, and Atlantis was awaiting rescue of some sort.  Atlantis lounged on her porch watching for the change of the guard, puzzling over the last line.  Her eyes scanned the garden and came to rest on the hydrangea bushes.  She and Marria had once spent an hour there looking for Atlantis’ Grandmother’s hair comb, when Marria had finally found it caught in the lace of Atlantis’ shawl.  Every time after that, when Atlantis was missing something Marria joked they should look by the hydrangea bushes.
       Atlantis watched for the change of the guard.  It came about every two hours or so, and for a brief period of about three minutes the hydrangea bush near Atlantis’ back gate was not guarded.  It gave her enough time to slip out, meander toward the gate, drop the box beneath the bush and be walking back by the time anyone returned.  Atlantis wasn’t sure how she would write her entire plight on a piece of paper that small.  She finally settled on four sentences.
    Forced to marry Andoran. Coup. Trust no one. All alone and in the dark.
She hoped her message was clear.  She hoped that either Drey or Marria would be able to piece together her meaning.  She didn’t want them thinking she was desperate, only that she had no way to fight back.  At least it showed that she had no part in this plot.  She knew that Drey would be by sometime today to pick it up.  She just hoped it was soon.  Over the past few days things had been quiet, for her at least.  Andoran hadn’t been back, and for that small blessing she was greatly relieved.  Part of her wondered why he hadn’t been back, but she’d decided that the coup of an Empire was likely a great deal of work, and in case he ever did she’d taken to carrying a letter opener tucked into her hair.  She assumed there were plenty of laws to change, and people to convince or execute for treason.  Knowing her people, Atlantis imagined that Andoran was getting more resistance than he bargained for.  
    Around lunch time Anya bustled in with a tray from the kitchen.  Atlantis sat obediently and ate the soup and salad.  They were two of her favourites, but she couldn’t get very excited about them.  She hadn’t been allowed to eat with another soul since her incarceration had begun.  Anya bustled around her quarters.  She was in and out of the closet several times before she spoke.
    “Looks like you won’t have to be all on your own so much anymore, my Lady.” Anya bubbled.
    “Really?” Atlantis asked, looking up from the scoop of vegetable soup resting on her spoon.
    “Well, once you and Emperor Grey are married, he won’t have to be so worried about you.  That’s my thinking anyway.  He’s asked me to prepare the Klein Hadar, you’ll be wed tomorrow.” She said, her voice carrying a hint of hope.  Like everything would finally be getting back to normal.  
    “Are you sure he said, tomorrow?” Panic rose in Atlantis’ chest.  Why was Andoran rushing things?  Not a week ago, he’d said it would be more like a month before they were married. Marria wouldn’t have time to enact her plan.  Anya laughed, almost nervously as she flitted back to the dressing room.  
    “I just imagine he wants to make things official.” She twittered.  Atlantis narrowed her eyes.  
    “What’s going on Anya?” Atlantis asked, standing as Anya exited the closet once again.  She froze.
    “What do you mean?”
    “Why is Andoran suddenly in a rush to marry me?  Tell me what you know.” Atlantis’ voice held steady, she held Anya in her gaze.  The girl shifted, nervously running the scarf she was holding through her hands.  Anya sank to the small stool she was standing nearby.
    “Oh, my Lady,  I don’t think it was supposed to get out, but the entire Empire is just buzzing.  Emperor Grey’s claim to your hand has been, well, disputed I suppose.” The words nearly burst from Anya. “Lord Tryst will be so angry if he learns that I told you anything.” She shook her head, pressing her hand to her throat.  Atlantis shook her head, kneeling in front of Anya, she pressed her hands on her arms.  
    “You must tell me everything.” She insisted.  Anya glanced toward the door, betraying her loyalty to Atlantis.  Anya spoke in a hoarse whisper.
    “Just yesterday, Emperor Grey received word from the Ryderron Empire.  They called his claim to the throne counterfeit as his only legitimate source of power is marrying you.  Apparently, the lost Prince, Horatio Ryderron has miraculously reappeared and he is exercising the right of his childhood betrothal to marry you.  Andoran believes that if you are already his wife by the time Ryderron arrives the matter will be settled, and the Prince will be turned away.” She spoke quickly.  Atlantis sat back, her hands trembling. Could this be true? Her stomach plummeted to her toes, and she felt sick.  She was conflicted by equal and opposing emotions. Which was worse? To marry Andoran, or a man she’d never met.
    “They’ve picked a fine time to butt their noses in.” Atlantis muttered. “Where did they find this Prince?”
    “The rumor is that he’d received some threats against his life as a small boy, and so his family hid him away with his parents until the threat passed.  He is going to be in Khal Manar as as early as tomorrow evening, and  Emperor Grey is afraid.”
    “What do the people say?” Atlantis asked her voice had fallen into the same whisper, crossing her arms over her chest, she paced in front of Anya.
    “The people are not content with Emperor Grey’s rule.  It is strict and harsh, and many have lost jobs and family members.  Anyone who speaks against him disappears, they don’t like that he’s severed trade with the rest of the universe.  They are unhappy with his treatment of you, and some rumours have even leaked that it was his own army that attacked the city, and then saved you from it.” Anya whispered, her eyes on the floor.
“And what of this Ryderron Prince? What does he want with me?” Atlantis asked. Anya shook her head, sadly.
“That is what I know, my Lady.  We must prepare your wedding gown, and the Klien Hadar.” Atlantis nodded dumbly.  Excitement clashed with terror deep in her heart.  Perhaps she would win back her Empire after all, perhaps it would come at a cost she didn’t recognize before this, but it would be worth it.  She bit her lip and followed Anya into the deep recesses of her closet.

    Nicolai’s head was pounding.  In the last three days, he had contacted his father’s family, met excessive amounts of his own extended family, seen a tearful reunion between his father and his grandfather, claimed his right to marry Lady Empress Atlantis Talerian because of his childhood betrothal.  He was now back on his ship, escorted by highly advanced Ryderron warships, trying to plan, much as a general would, how he intended to rescue the Empress and save her Empire from certain destruction.  It was enough to make any sane man want to crawl under his bed and simply hide for the quiet of it all.  He was now being addressed as “You’re Highness”, even by members of his own crew, and it was making him pace and shout randomly at people who didn’t deserve it.  He had replaced his uncomfortable ceremonial clothes with his old uniform trying to hang on to the very edge of his sanity, and had transferred several imperial calls to Kuri, who told the callers he was not in.  The buzzer at his door sounded.
    “Come in.”
    “Your Highness,” Kuri greeted him as she stepped through the door.  Nicolai groaned.
    “What?”
    “Is there a problem?” She asked, quickly.
    “Kuri, three days ago I was Captain, or Nic.  Can’t we just stick to that?”
    “May as well not fight it, Sir.” Kuri pointed out quickly.  She thrust a piece of folded paper in his direction.  “Lady Marria said you needed to see this.” She said. His eyes scanned the writing on the folded piece of paper.  Knitting his eyebrows together, he glanced at Kuri.  “When did you get this?”
    “Less than ten minutes ago, give or take.” Kuri shrugged, “You’ve been getting an influx of messages over the last few hours.”
    “Can the acting Emperor do that?” Nicolai demanded, thrusting the paper at Kuri.  The man was crazy.  According to Marria’s inside information, the Emperor planned to marry Atlantis the day before Nicolai arrived in order to set himself up as the rightful ruler.  
    “I suppose he thinks can do whatever he likes.” Kuri’s eyes scanned the message. “He did take over the empire after all.”  
    “We’d better get there early.” Nicolai muttered. “Tell navigation we need to speed up, we need to be there by tomorrow.”
    “I don’t know if this refurbished engine can take it, Sir.”
    “I know, Kuri.  Just give the order.”
    “Yes Sir.”
Nicolai closed his eyes again and rubbed his hands against his temples.  Now they would be going into a fight.  At least that was something he knew a little bit about.  He had discussed strategy with the best strategic minds in his grandfather’s empire, and there would be more meetings in the next fourteen hours.  He thought it would be best if Atlantis didn’t see him, and Andoran for that matter.  The last thing anyone wanted was one of them to recognize him, and blow his cover.  Of course, it was more reality than cover, but Nicolai hadn’t quite accepted that yet.  At least this information could help them formulate a plan.  He’d never busted up a wedding before, but now was as good a time as any.



    Atlantis was waiting when Andoran arrived the next morning.  She was clad in one of the most ostentatious gowns that she owned.  It was the best thing she could figure for a wedding dress, a tight bodice with an off-the-shoulder scooped collar and sleeves.  The gown itself was layer upon layer of white tulle and silks.  The long gloves on her arms only left the smallest gap of skin open, around her neck she wore a diamond and silver necklace dripping down almost to the collar.  Her hair was pulled gently back, and curled, held in place by diamond studded pins.  The only veil she had belonged to her mother.  Anya had tucked it in at the base of her curls.  She had chosen not to wear the Klein Hadar.  She would not support Andoran’s bid to a royal wedding by wearing the emblems of her people.  The very sight of him brought a lump to her throat.  She tried to keep her hands from trembling.  The night that he attacked her came rushing back, and she blinked back tears from her eyes.  How could that have been Andoran?  Still, her perception of him had changed almost entirely.  He looked stiff and old, as if his rise to the throne had aged him several years in the past week.  
    “My Lady.  You are beautiful.” He offered stiffly, without a smile. She nodded and accepted his arm.  She knew the courtroom would be full of guests, that all the trimmings had been taken care of, thrown together in the last minute to gratify the image of the new Emperor.  Her stomach turned as he led her to the court room.  She hadn’t been there in well over two weeks, and the place almost seemed foreign to her.  As they approached there was a flourish of trumpets.  She heard the hush of the crowd settle and held her head high as the huge doors opened.  She glanced into the room.  The guests standing to welcome the bride and groom were less than she expected, but it was almost a relief.  She could imagine that they were all supporters of Andoran.  She and Andoran walked in slowly, observing ceremony, her eyes rested on the front of the room, two large stands of flowers had been set up on either side, she recognized the flowers from the garden.  In between them, the priest waited.  As they walked closer, Atlantis recognized him.
    The priest, a man who’d been vying for a position on the high council for as long as Atlantis could remember, stood before them, wearing ceremonial robes and insignia.   He was smiling with a slick confidence that Atlantis could see right through.  She was sure that he had readily accepted the position on the high council in return for support for Andoran, a hasty, unpopular marriage between the former reigning Empress and Khal Manar’s new Emperor.  She was sure that they couldn’t risk upsetting the already fragile will of the people, who were still unsteady under the new government rule.  
    “My Lord Emperor.” The man bowed slightly. “My Lady.” He addressed her properly according to her new title.  
    “Seranin.” Andoran greeted him briefly, quietly, Atlantis knew that something unspoken had passed between them.  The priest took the greeting as an opportunity to begin.
    Atlantis studied him closely. The priest had narrow, bony hands that clutched the Holy book.  He began to read the sacred scriptures, and the lines nearly broke Atlantis’ heart.  She’d always read them to herself expecting to be marrying a man that she loved.  Speaking vows to become her husband, Andoran still inspired nothing from her.  Further, his face was darkened by the stark reality of what he had stolen from Atlantis.  She desperately commanded herself not to hate him, and even more, not to fear him.  She repeated her required lines, her hope fading with each passing moment.  Perhaps Marria hadn’t gotten the message.   Perhaps it was too late.  
    “And if anyone before Ohar, believes that this royal couple should not be united under the bonds of love in holy matrimony, let them speak now, or forever be silent under the promise of Ohar, and support this union.”  The priest stopped, barely waiting half a breath before continuing.  Atlantis was having trouble focusing on the sound of the man's droning voice. There was a faint pounding coming from beyond the closed door, rhythmic, at first, Atlantis thought it was in her head, but it persisted. Guests began to notice, to turn their heads and look, Andoran's face flushed, he gripped Atlantis' hands tighter, soon the priest could no longer be heard over the stamping boots against the marble floor. The doors burst open, and guests began to get to their feet and shout their displeasure and protests.  They went silent when a man bearing the Ryderron standard called out.
    “In the name of his Majesty, Emperor Ryderron, of the Ryderron Empire this wedding is in contempt of a betrothal contract still in effect after twenty three years.” The man’s voice carried over the silence.  “The Prince Horatio Ryderron contests the marriage of his betrothed to another.”
    Andoran’s guards had gathered near the front of the court room, placing a human wall between the advancing Ryderrons and Andoran himself.  Tryst was at Andoran’s side immediately, almost as if he materialized out of nowhere.  Andoran grabbed Atlantis and pulled her backward as Tryst stepped in front of her.  She tried to see the Ryderron prince, the man bold enough to stand against Andoran, but his face was obscured by an overly large hood.  He was dressed in black, trimmed with silver, and from her stance, looked more menacing than prince.  She yanked her arm, desperate to get out of Andoran’s grasp, but he held tight pulling her from the room.  
    The air in the room was stiff with silence, as the two powers faced off against one another.  The wedding guests had grown silent, watchful, as the Ryderron party advanced further into the room.  
    “The Ryderron claim is not binding, as Atlantis was a child when this agreement was settled, and her guardianship later changed from her father to her grandfather.  You have no rights here, Prince Horatio Ryderron.” Tryst stated for Andoran, his voice echoing loudly around the room.  
    “The fact of the matter is, that Lord Grey is attempting to usurp power from the house of Talerian, and you need your marriage to Empress Talerian for your claim to stand.” Nicolai answered back from beneath his hooded cloak sounding more confident than he felt.  
   "What do you know of it?" Andoran barked. "It's already too late, she's mine." He backed toward the door, and signaled for his guards. Nicolai and three of his guards launched forward, to follow Andoran, but they were blocked by Tryst. The man held up his hand.
      "Your Highness, let's talk about this.  There's always room to negotiate." Tryst offered, gesturing for Nicolai to follow through the same door that Andoran had just left through. Nicolai nodded, desperate to get through that door, to get to Atlantis.
 As the door, Nicolai reached for his weapon. A force brought him to his knees, his weapon clattering to the ground, beyond his reach. A sharp pain branched over his shoulder knocking him to the floor.  He heard the sharp cries of his men as the ambush became fully clear.  Andoran had known, and had planned for this.  Pain screamed through his shoulder, as Nicolai  grasped for anything that would give him a fighting chance.  Coming up empty handed, he sprang to his feet and launched himself into the middle of his attacker.  They struck each other with a grunt, but the clang of the metal pipe Tryst was holding clattered to the floor.  Nicolai pinned him to the ground.  His hood was flung back over his head.  
    “She belongs to Andoran now.” Tryst spat at Nicolai, struggling under his grasp.  “Can’t you understand that?  They’ve been together ever since Grey saved her from herself.”
    “Where is she?” Nicolai demanded. “My ship is under orders to engage your fleet if I do not return.”  Tryst looked up at him from the floor.  His eyes narrowed.
    “Wait...I know you.”  Tryst choked. Nicolai pressed him harder into the floor, gritting his teeth. “You’re no prince, you’re...you’re that Captain.  I’ve seen you with the Empress.”
    “Where is she?” Nicolai shouted this time.  Tryst laughed.  
    “Andoran has her.”  He rasped.  “He has had her.  She isn’t yours.  She has married him.” Tryst taunted him. Nicolai shouted, half in frustration, half to alert any of his guard still standing. But the sounds of battle beyond the door were becoming more distinct, the shouts joined by blasts from weapons.  He gripped the long pipe that had originally belonged to Tryst, and ran toward the open door at the far end of the room.  He had to find Atlantis.  A scream echoed down a long corridor flanked on one side by ceiling to floor windows.  As he passed, an explosion in the stratosphere caught his attention.  His fleet was already engaged in a battle with Grey’s forces.  He heard another scream, echoing down the corridor.  Nicolai raced after the sound.
    Atlantis wrenched her arm from Andoran’s grasp.
    “Andoran, stop! Stop this!” She demanded, her voice nearly frantic.  She’d had enough.  He’d dragged her through nearly every back corridor that she knew the palace had, Atlantis was tired, she wanted this charade to end. “Andoran I know about the Ryderron Prince.  I know that I am betrothed to him and that he challenges your right to the throne.” Atlantis blurted, halting Andoran in his tracks.  
    “I don’t care what you’ve heard.” Andoran snapped, snatching her wrist back. “You’re married to me.  Betrothed or not, that Prince can’t do anything about it.”
    “According to you, I’ve stepped down to let you rule.  You have no power outside of me. By breaking my connection to the throne, you’ve left yourself with a false sense of security.” Atlantis cried.  The truth tasted sour to him.  She could tell by the look on his face.  His eyes filled with a black  hatred, and he lunged at her, striking her cheek, making her teeth clatter together.  A cry of pain escaped her, and anger exploded in his eyes.  He struck her again, equally as viciously, her eyes rolled back her in head and she sank to the floor in a mass of tulle.  Andoran sucked in a deep breath, adrenaline coursing through his system.  He wiped the extra saliva from the corner of his mouth.  
    This was how Nicolai found him, leaning down over her crumpled body and his heart nearly stopped in his throat.  He couldn’t tell if she was breathing and panic overcame him.  He lunged at the man he knew as Andoran, tackling him to the floor with a yell.  Andoran roared back at him and flung him off almost immediately.  He hurled himself toward Nicolai taking him tumbling and rolling over the ground.  Nicolai saw the glint of a blade flash in the air as it plunged down toward him.  He rolled to try and escape, but the fire of a cut to his arm burned into his flesh.  Nicolai cried out, kicking up against Andoran and sending him sprawling across the floor.  Andoran and Nicolai circled each other gasping for breath.  Nicolai's head was swimming, the blow he'd taken from the knife in his arm was making him dizzy, making him sweat.  His stomach turned over and he tried to keep his vision clear, and focused on Andoran.  It was clear that both of them had settled themselves into a lifestyle that didn't include hand to hand combat on a regular basis.  Sweat beaded across Andoran's brow. 
    "What could you care about this Empire so much that you are willing to die to stop me?" He demanded.
    "I love her." Nicolai answered steadily, watching Andoran's movements, trying to anticipate his next attack.
    "You don't know her!" Andoran shouted, and lunged again, striking Nicolai with his fist.  Nicolai stumbled back, and catching his balance blocked the second and third hit from Andoran's relentless fists.  For a moment he thought that if he could answer properly, Nicolai hoped there was a chance that he could talk things out with this Andoran; but as he saw the glint of a knife flash through the air, he knew the time for talk had expired.  He tried, briefly.
    "You don't have to do this."
    "She is mine!" Andoran lunged at him again, catching his blade on Nicolai's chest.  He sliced upward, as Nicolai fell back. He could feel the hot sting across his skin, and felt blood soaking through his shirt. Andoran screamed his rage and ran at Nicolai again. Nicolai caught Andoran's arm holding the knife in his left hand, and threw his fist into the man's jaw, Nicolai turned the Andoran, using his momentum against him. Andoran stumbled and losing his balance he fell, smashing his head against a tall candelabra and crashing to the ground.  Nicolai breathed deep again, waiting for Andoran to recover.   But as Nicolai remained ready, watchful, it became apparent that Andoran wasn't moving.  Nicolai approached slowly, kicked the knife away that had clattered to the floor, and noticed a trail of blood starting at Andoran's temple, and running down his face.  It was apparent that he'd struck a sharp edge, he wasn't moving.  Nicolai sank back on his haunches, and tried to calm the nerves in his stomach.  The adrenaline coursing through his system was making his hands shake.  He made his way slowly to Atlantis where she had crumpled in a haze of tulle.  Her eyes were still rolled back in her head, and she was unconscious.  He could tell she was breathing, he buried his face in her hair, relieved.  Cradling her, he pressed his lips to her forehead.  He thought he said, "I love you." but he wasn't sure if it was once or twice, or if he even said it at all. 
    "Captain?" The shout came from the corridor, and Nicolai answered back.  Marria cleared the corner with her husband, a doctor and several other guards on her tail.  "Oh thank God, you're here. They surrendered." She blurted, trying to catch her breath.  Nicoali nodded.  The doctor shouted to some attendees who had come in the back, and they laid Atlantis on a stretcher.  Nicolai watched her go.  Marria was surveying the scene.  The doctor was now bent over Andoran's body.
"You're bleeding, Sir." Marria touched the rip in his sleeve.
"I am." Nicolai nodded absently.  "I am."