Kudisha Departure Episode 1 Journey to Rehnor series Page 2
“Stay safe, my beloved, Ruka,” the prince’s betrothed wrote back, using the nickname she had given him years before. “My heart would break and I would die if something happened to you.”
“Do not fear, Rena,” the prince replied. “My friend tells me I’ve got a long life ahead of me yet.”
Indeed, Karukan did, although the same couldn’t be said for his brother, Revak, who several years later, found himself still without another heir. Queen Myra had miscarried four times in the interim, and not one of his mistresses managed to conceive.
“I am cursed,” Revak bemoaned, to which Queen Myra heartily agreed for she had come to despise her faithless husband.
After four miserable failed pregnancies, with nothing but the King’s complaints to console her for her loss, Myra began to dream of Revak’s death. It started out quite simply, a misplaced bomb falling on his car, or a raging venereal disease contracted from a mistress.
As time went on Myra’s imagination took on a more deliberate and fanciful tone with images of Revak writhing in pain. He might be captured by Hahr, and tortured unmercifully, or maybe, he’d swallow a vial of radioactive iodine and melt from the inside out. Whatever the means, Myra realized, she wanted him dead.
Only seven years after they had wed, only months before the then-Lieutenant Karukan and Lady Lorena were scheduled to do the same, Queen Myra took a knife and cut King Revak’s throat. Although they didn’t normally share a bed, this particular night Revak was both desperate for affection, and wishing to try to procreate an heir once again.
Myra, having grown tired of the many failed heir attempts, and having grown to prefer the company of her maids to that of the king, removed a serrated paring knife from the basket of fruit beside her bed. While the King lay half asleep in a state of post-coital near-bliss, Queen Myra sawed his neck, and ended his reign.
Then, she began to scream. In fact, she screamed so much, forever after her voice was hoarse, although it didn’t matter, as her forever was neither long, nor spent anywhere other than the palace prison.
In the meantime, Karukan was summoned from his Royal Guard posting at a base on the northern coast, which was covered in twenty feet of hard packed snow, and a layer of ice too thick to melt.
“It was necessary for his safety,” the late-King Revak had stated, when signing the order to send his brother to the furthest and coldest outpost within his dominion. “I should never forgive myself if my only remaining sibling should somehow end up dead.”
It took the new king four days to return to Kudisha, the first two of which required sitting upon the back of a dog sled. Once arrived at the newly rebuilt palace, Karukan’s first order of business was to sentence his former sister-in-law to her death. Killing a king was high treason, and the punishment not negotiable by even the next one.
However, Karukan was reluctant to execute the lady, for he had always liked Myra, and thought her beauty second to none. In addition, Fate had seen fit to toss in a cruel twist, for it turned out that Myra was pregnant.
“You have no choice,” the Chief Justice insisted. “You cannot deny the law you are sworn to uphold.”
Poor Myra and her unborn infant were then terminated forthwith. After which, King Karukan secluded himself in his suite to pray. For more than two weeks, he failed to emerge, once again preferring the company of no one to any other.
“He’s insane,” the old Lord Chamberlain whispered to the Palace’s Chief of Staff. “We all know he’s in there consulting with his invisible companion, or some sort of ghost.”
“Heaven help us now,” the Prime Minister mumbled to the President of the Parliament. “Our new king never out grew a child’s predilection for imaginary friends.”
“He’s no worse than the other de Kudishas.” The Chief Justice shrugged at his favorite bartender. “They were all crazy in one way or another. Hit me once again, but this time, make it a double. The lad is still young, and I fear his reign will be long.”
Chapter 3
Lorena de Tirkoop was the perfect match for Karukan de Kudisha. With an enormous and loving heart, and a gift for finding joy in even the grimmest situation, Lorena’s presence was like a shower of sunlight bursting through the clouds of Karukan’s dark and introspective world. She made him smile, and she made him laugh. She filled his empty room and lonely heart with both warmth and copious amounts of food, especially bread, which Lorena adored in every possible rendition. White, wheat, rye, corn, hard, soft, quick, dark, light, in a loaf, or shaped as a roll, Lorena was a slave to the bakery, and the bread-man at the Palace.
Prior to the nuptials, and her concurrent coronation as the Queen of Karupatani, Lorena had tried to lose some weight. Honestly, she had. She had limited herself to only the wholest of grains, exchanged the butter for low fat smart margarine, and absolutely, completely, ruled out any other toppings, except for the occasional dollop of peanut butter at lunchtime. She needed her protein, you know.
Initially, this new diet was successful. The first week alone, Lorena lost nearly ten pounds. Yet, with six years still to go until the wedding, Lorena found it too taxing to deny herself something she simply loved beyond life. Even her beloved Ruka was not worth that.
Five and three-quarter years later, with only months to go until the wedding, Lorena decided to give the diet another go.
“It is not necessary,” Beloved Ruka wrote in a letter from his station at the frozen outpost on the planet’s northern pole. “I have and will always love you exactly how you are.”
While these sentiments warmed Lorena’s heart beyond measure, and yet again she counted herself fortunate to have been matched to the youngest and kindest of the de Kudisha princes, a small niggling of doubt remained at the back of her brain. Beloved Ruka had never seen her.
Of course, she had seen his handsome image plenty of times on the evening news. And, they had exchanged pictures, although her’s had only been a headshot. Taken from up above. With her dark hair at an angle that brought definition to her chin. And, a dog on her lap. A large dog. And, then there was that small bit of photoshopping, too.
In any case, with only weeks to go, Lorena exerted her most concerted effort to reduce, and once again, was initially successful. However, the horrific news of King Revak’s murder, and Queen Myra’s subsequent execution at the hand of Beloved Ruka, sent the would-be Queen into a tailspin from which she couldn’t possibly recover.
If that wasn’t enough, the dreaded Markiis Kalila, King of Hahr, decided to take advantage of Karupatani’s current political instability by launching an attack on all the internet service providers.
King Karukan, who for only two weeks had sat upon the throne which he never anticipated nor hoped would be his, failed to respond in a decisive or quick manner. The politicians populating the hallowed halls of Parliament by definition were indecisive as well, thus Karupatani failed to retaliate for Kalila’s initial salvo.
“Ha ha ha!” Kalila roared in his palace by the sea in Takira-hahr. “This Karukan is an even bigger fool than his brothers. In due course, all of Karupatani shall be mine.”
The internet outage made it impossible to broadcast the royal wedding across the country, fortunately for the new Queen Lorena who had packed on yet more pounds. She did look lovely though with clouds of white tulle swirling around her golden form, her long dark hair pulled tightly into a bun on the top of her head, and pinned in place by a tiny crown.
The wedding night was also a rousing success, and one in which web access might have been helpful, but not required. Neither King nor Queen had any experience in the task set before them, and despite their fumblings and bumblings, were pleasantly surprised to discover they had done it right.
The only bothersome bit to Lorena, and this was really a tiny, nagging, little annoyance, was her new husband’s propensity to speak to someone who clearly was not there.
“Oh! You’re here,” Beloved Ruka proclaimed, while nestled against Beloved Rena’s large, soft, and compliant
breast, which also smelled slightly yeasty, like the bread she so favored.
Initially, Lorena assumed she had misheard. Of course, she was here. Where else did her new husband think she was?
“I’m so glad you’ve come,” the King continued.
“I’m glad too,” Lorena replied, a bit quizzically, while lazily stroking Ruka’s broad back.
“You are completely correct again. I do like this immensely. It is indeed a delightful benefit of being alive.”
Lorena’s hand paused. What? Had she ever said he would like this, and if she had, how in the heavens would she have known, as she was even more a novice than he?
“Now, what shall we do about Markiis?”
“Markiis?” Lorena gasped.
“Shall I call him, do you think? Invite him here for a little tete a tete? If the three of us…”
“What?” Lorena screeched, knocking Beloved Ruka’s head from his perch.
“Hush dearest,” the king replied. “Yes, I know you think Markiis can be entirely unreasonable.”
At this point, the Queen-bride assumed her worst fears had been realized, and her new husband’s heart belonged to another. Markiis. It was only when Karukan rose from the bed, and reached for his robe, all the while discussing a proposed summit with Markiis and someone else, that Queen Lorena realized, her problem would not be Karukan’s fidelity.
“He can be a rational fellow at times. You’ve told me the same. Surely, the best path to peace and prosperity for both our nations is through a conduit such as you.”
“Ruka,” the Queen called, albeit timidly. “Where are you going? It’s the middle of the night.”
Karukan, now reminded of both the hour and his wife’s presence, stood momentarily disconcerted, as if he had forgotten who and where he was. A blush crept up his face, although Lorena wasn’t certain from where his embarrassment came. Was it because she had caught him in the act, and if so, the act of what?
“Oh yes, Rena, my beloved.” The king glanced at his wrist, although it was absent of any watch. He waved a hand in the air, and made a prancing step towards the door. “I am so sorry, but I must leave. Business. Kingly business. You know, that sort of thing. I am the king. Fancy that.”
He shrugged, and blushed again, as if surprised by this whole proposition, and then, briefly, he returned to her side, and kissed her lovingly upon on the cheek.
“I’ll be back,” he announced huskily, reaching for and quickly fondling a large breast, before hastily quitting the chamber for his own.
Returning to the solitude he was accustomed to, and frankly, much preferred, Karukan sat down to plan out the meeting he had just envisioned.
Lorena wasn’t one to complain. Save Karukan’s oddities, the ever present war, and the threat of death which overshadowed her every move, she was blessed with a life beyond any other. After all, she was Queen of Karupatani, and she could eat unlimited bread.
In due course, which fortunately for the royal couple was immediately, Lorena became pregnant with the future Crown Prince Kirat. Karukan, while professing his greatest pleasure at this most exciting news, was still preoccupied by the kingly summit soon commencing. Markiis Kalila had agreed to meet at a neutral spot, a chain of islands in the southern hemisphere belonging to no one. The two kings would come alone, without advisors or even guards, to hammer out the differences between their countries. Hopefully in short order, they would return home with both a truce and trade agreement, as well as a friendship that might ensure a lasting peace.
“Are you certain you will be safe?” Lorena had asked fearfully, when Beloved Ruka was filling a case with clothes.
“Of course,” Karukan had scoffed. “I will be perfectly fine, and I will be successful because I am right, and Kalila is the one who is misguided.”
Naturally, the King of Hahr did not agree. In fact, to no one’s surprise but Karukan’s, the summit ended in disaster with neither a truce, nor pact to trade. Instead, the two kings stormed back to their respective thrones with only vows to continue warring. The ownership of that island chain in the southern hemisphere was now included in their long list of disputes.
A few years later, shortly after the birth of Karukan and Lorena’s second son, Behrat, Lorena found her husband pensively sitting at his desk. This wasn’t unusual at all, for he was often pensive, and even more frequently at his desk. However, there was an odd expression upon his face which concerned the Queen.
“What is it, Ruka?” she asked. “What troubles you more so than usual? With our two beautiful boys, you should be very happy.”
“Indeed, they make me very happy,” Karukan insisted, forcing a smile, although it didn’t extend all the way up to his eyes. “But, at the same time, their existence makes me inordinately sad, for what is life but the ultimate prelude to certain death?”
Having lived with her husband now for five long years, Lorena didn’t question this extraordinarily depressing and contradictory statement, but waited patiently for the king to expand upon his thoughts.
“Our sons, like my brothers before them, shall be sacrificed to these never-ending wars, as shall Kalila’s sons, unless we find some means to finally bring about the peace.”
“We could give Kalila the lands he covets,” Lorena offered. “We would still have plenty of oil, gold, and minerals for ourselves, and then, he would have no reason to fight for more.”
“Weakness and capitulation never brought peace in the history of mankind,” her husband snapped. “Only superior strength and fear of one’s own destruction.”
“Oh,” Lorena replied meekly. “Well, we could marry Kirat to Kalila’s daughter.”
As soon as the words fell from Lorena’s lips, she tried to imagine what it would be like to have a daughter-in-law from Hahr. The girl would be so foreign, so very different, so un-Karupta-like. Would she love Lorena like a mother, or would she become the evil daughter-in-law from Hell?
“No,” the King scoffed, much to Lorena’s relief. “Kalila would never abide by that, and furthermore, Kirat is promised to Elise de Kirkut.”
Lorena sighed. She liked Elise de Kirkut, even though the girl was only two years old. She had a mop of dark gold curls, and was as polite as she was pretty, despite the shrewish nature of the toddler’s mother.
“Then what? What shall we do if these wars will never end?”
“We shall have to leave,” Karukan stated, knocking his hand upon the table top. “We shall have to abandon the planet Rozari in order to save our people, to save our race. Therefore, I am commissioning the construction of the spacecraft to commence as soon as possible. If Kalila doesn’t cease to war, and no alternative remains, we shall have to do what is necessary. God help us be victorious in this endeavor.”
“Spacecraft,” Lorena thought that night, as she lay sleepless in her bed, recounting this conversation in her mind. It occurred to her, and not for the first time, that Beloved Ruka might be insane. Spacecraft? In order to abandon the planet Rozari to fly off to heaven knew where? What would these spacecraft be like? Did he mean for her to wear a tight and constricting suit? How would they breathe? What would they eat? How would they go?
This thought alone made Lorena hungry, and so donning her robe, she climbed from her bed to head to the palace’s kitchens for a late night snack. Returning a few moments later with two buttered sourdough rolls and a cheese danish pastry, she spied Karukan pacing madly through the hall.
“Are you certain about all this?” the king was asking, although there were no ministers in sight. Neither was there a servant, retainer, or even a valet. “Yes, yes, I know, but it’s quite a gamble. We may all die, whilst in route, but like you said, the alternative isn’t any better.”
“Poor, poor Ruka.” Lorena shook her head, while quietly tip toeing back to her room. All those years of loneliness and solitude really did damage the poor man’s brain. Ach well, one must accept the good with the bad. He was a faithful husband, and a loving father, despite it all. If his ma
dness overcame him, and they really were required to sail off to the stars in a spaceship, at least, Lorena would make certain it was fully stocked with bread.
Chapter 4
Kirat thought he was unlike most crown princes in that he didn’t really want to be one. Sure, the perks were pretty cool. He imagined it would have sucked to have to work for all the stuff that was just given to him. But, the pressure was intense, especially knowing this mess was all going to be his problem someday. Especially when he hadn’t a clue what he was going to do about it. No amount of good stuff was worth all that.
“No wonder your dad spends all his time talking to himself,” Torim de Shrotru said.
Kirat’s best friend was sitting on the rug playing Heroes & Conquerers. Torim had reached level fourteen, and needed only three more mushrooms to win the key to the tower. Then, he’d be able to rescue the princess, something Kirat had already managed while playing by himself late last week.
Kirat laughed. Anytime anyone mentioned his dad, Kirat forced himself to chuckle heartily, as if his dad’s madness was the funniest thing he ever heard. In the old days, the really old days, or in a game like the one the boys were playing, laughing about the king might be considered high treason. Even if you were his son, you might find yourself waking up one morning without your head. But then, if life was a game like Heroes & Conquerers, Kirat could just push the red button, and voila, he’d have a whole new head, maybe several.
In truth, Kirat didn’t really want the throne at all, although he didn’t really want anyone else to have it either. As much as he disparaged it to himself and Torim, Kirat knew he would never have stepped aside, and let his little brother take it.
But, he wasn’t like his dad. Not all. He never wanted it that much. Kirat thought their dad had wanted the throne so much he had killed his brother, King Revak and Queen Myra, his wife. That’s what a lot of people said. The Queen was pregnant at the time, too, so that kid might have been the crown prince instead of Kirat. He might have wanted it, which made Kirat kind of sad, but not that sad. Just a little.