As Nordhi’s pregnancy progressed, doctors placed her on a travel restriction. Artee devoted more of his time to her protection. Honoring his word, Bel wore the tracking bracelet day and night to prove he was not scheming an escape. Gradually, Artee permitted Bel to travel beyond the royal estate without him. Bel spent many afternoons with his father-in-law to prod him for information on threats to the family, old and new.
The duke shook his head. “As I have told you before, I cannot think of anyone who would want to harm Nordhi or your child. What kind of monster would attack a pregnant woman?”
“Perhaps someone with a grudge before our marriage? Artee has a compelling theory–”
“You should be careful not to be too trusting of your staff, particularly the ones in charge of your security.”
The statement made Bel defensive, even though he knew it was good advice. “Why? We have personal differences, but Artee has proven to be dependable.”
“Security experts tend to be paranoid. This paranoia can overwhelm them. Moreover, when they excel at their jobs, it threatens their continued employment. How can you be certain Artee is not inventing this threat for job security?”
“Artee is not motivated by money. In fact, there is something about him I want to tell you so I can ask for your guidance.”
“Ah, so you do harbor suspicions about him. What is it?”
I need to tread carefully. One misstep and Artee will kill me and possibly the duke. “He was not referred to me by a friend. In fact, the reason I put him in charge of my security is because–”
One of the duke’s young female personal assistants burst into the room. Tears streaked her cheeks, and her voice warbled. “Begging your pardons, but I’ve just been informed Queen Nordhi was attacked.” She thrust her datapad at the duke. “I’m sorry, I can’t bear to look at the carnage!”
Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.
Bel and the duke peered at the small screen in horror. All they saw were body parts and torn-up foliage strewn about a central prone figure. Everything was coated in crimson.
* * *
The central garden of the royal estate was a veritable arboretum of trees and plants from Earth and Doaba II. Insects of both worlds buzzed and hummed as they flew and crawled among the flowers. Small creatures scurried up and down the trees. Into this natural oasis of calm waddled a pregnant Queen Nordhi and her android attendants. The ever-watchful Artee followed at a privacy respecting distance behind them.
Nordhi shuffled and paused as she became fatigued. She stopped at a wooden bench to inhale the fresh air. Wrinkling her nose, she sniffed again. “Something smells foul.” She raised her voice. “Artee, can you smell that?” Bracing herself with one arm on the top of the bench, she stood and tracked the stench to its source. Insects buzzed around a pile of dark brown feces flecked with bits of bone fragments.
Artee was a fair distance from the queen, but his keen vision discerned the significance of the feces’ makeup. “Your grace, please move away–“
Twenty paces to her left, a copper-colored mass of fur, claws, and teeth erupted from the bushes. The Doaban Mountain Lion bulldozed an android attendant and clawed and chewed it into pieces. Finding no flesh to feast on, the lion tossed the android aside. It rampaged through the retinue of frantic servant androids scrambling to move the Queen to safety.
Detecting the scent of fear streaming from her, the lion fixed its deadly gaze on the queen. It tensed and coiled to pounce before making a bounding leap at her.
From the opposite direction, Artee vaulted past the queen. A sword blade sprang from his right forearm. The blade sliced the lion’s underside in mid-leap. The enraged lion landed on its feet, dripping blood. It whirled around to pounce on the assassin’s back. Artee attempted to pirouette on the heel of his left foot to face the lion.
The lion slammed into Artee, sinking its teeth into his right arm and impaling a leg on the exposed blade. Artee and the lion toppled over sideways, narrowly avoiding the Queen. Artee’s right arm bent backward and tore free. He exposed the gun barrel in his left hand, pressed it against the lion’s head, and fired.
The bewildered lion shook its head, blood streaming from its nose and mouth. Legs wobbling, it tried to stand before collapsing on top of Artee and dying.
The surviving attendant androids carried the queen to safety within the royal estate’s walls. As they hustled her to the royal bedchamber, she pleaded, “Is Artee ok? Please, someone, go check on him.”