Caesura - 11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

After Diarmad almost incinerated his gardener over a forgotten rake, he finally admitted to himself that his balance was deteriorating. The usual methods to quiet his mind: meditation and utter bodily exhaustion achieved through a rigid workout routine no longer helped.

He decided to confide in the only person he still trusted, and sought his advice. Predictably, Ronan explained his struggles derived from Noël’s absence and suggested additional meetings with him outside of council gatherings, but Diarmad knew this would never help him. Noël’s personal energy had evolved to a vibrating, menacing monster that always agitated him and made him feel defensive; a fact he wasn’t ready to disclose yet, even to his chief of security and only friend.

In his calmer moments, Diarmad was fully aware that Noël’s energy was normal for a black-triangle telepath. As king, he should be able to block the effects easily. However, his instinct yelled at him to stay away from Noël--that he no longer tried to outbalance him, but was antagonizing him, riling him up to weaken his position.

On top of that, people knew that something was wrong; they were talking behind his back, even laughing about him at times. At council meetings, he had caught Ciaran looking at Noël for confirmation after Diarmad had already made a decision.

It seemed Noël was taking over.

***

A few days after the rake incident, Diarmad was waiting impatiently for the heavy, double doors of the council hall to open, while Ronan scanned the foyer for potential threats. As usual, his second guard shielded him from behind. Suddenly feeling crowded, Diarmad took a step away when a car approached them rapidly. Carl tensed, but relaxed as soon as he recognized Noël in the passenger seat. “It’s only your mate and his friend.”

Diarmad couldn’t stop himself from turning his head, and regretted his curiosity immediately when he found Kris behind the wheel instead of Landyn. Next, he witnessed a smiling Noël pressing a short, but intense, kiss on the other man’s lips before he climbed out of the car. At the same time, a familiar black Land Rover stopped sharply behind them, and Diarmad hurried to avert his gaze before a smirking Landyn caught him staring.

As Diarmad stormed down the long hallway leading to the conference room, the bodyguards tried to keep a little more distance than was customary from their seething king.

They were addressing the second item on the agenda, when Diarmad felt sudden panic rising inside him. His hands holding the tablet trembled and an enormous pressure on his chest prevented him from breathing normally. He tried to hide his condition as well as he could, but some council members were already whispering among themselves, throwing surreptitious glances at him.

Suddenly Noël tilted his head, first to one side, then to the other, as if he was trying to make sense of a faint noise. Then he pushed his chair back and hurried to take the empty place beside Diarmad. Normally Noël made sure to sit as far away from him as possible. After fixating him with another critical gaze, he took Diarmad’s hand under the table, entwined their fingers, and immediately the unbearable pressure on his chest lifted, and he could breathe more easily; even the headache lessened.

Whatever Noël had done allowed Diarmad to finish the meeting without further incidents, but when he tried to slip out discreetly, Noël blocked his way, shook his head, and gestured in the direction of an unused boardroom. "Can we talk for a moment?"

Not wanting to make a scene, Diarmad nodded and followed him. As soon as Noël had closed the door, he turned around and looked at him strangely.

"What?"

Being this close to Noël unnerved him, and promptly Diarmad began wringing his hands. Noticing what he was doing, he quickly shoved them into the pockets of his pants. No need to further embarrass himself.

"Is everything okay, D? Are you sick or something?"

Diarmad had to fight the strong urge to run out. "No, what makes you think that?"

Noël had noticed his panic attack! Should he talk to him? Too dangerous....

When he took too long to answer his question, Noël stepped directly in front of him, so close that he could feel his warm breath on his face.

"Your mental shields were down, Diarmad! You were practically shouting your every thought at those who are receptive to telepathy. How can this be possible? Besides, without a barrier to protect your mind, you must have been smothered by the constant chatter of the non-telepaths."

Maybe Noël lowered my shields intentionally and then pretended to help me?

"I don't know what you are talking about." Diarmad couldn’t help himself, he needed to pace.

"Bullshit!" Noël stepped into his path, interrupting his stride. "Tell me what’s wrong!”

"I-it got better after a while.” To Diarmad’s horror, his voice noticeably trembled.

I need to go!

"Yes, because I extended my own shields around you."

Diarmad didn't know what to do or what to say, so he shrugged Noël’s explanation off. “Well, thanks,” he said, and fled without another word.

As soon as he was home, Diarmad secluded himself inside his study. The events of the morning kept running through his mind on a loop. Question after question popped up. How could he lose control like this? What would have had happened if Noël had not intervened? Moreover, was it really a coincidence that he had been present at Diarmad’s weak moment? What if it had been a planned attack to demonstrate to the council how useless their king had become?

Too many questions! He desperately needed to find his focus. A short picture of his garden blinked before his inner eye. Deep meditation could help if he wasn’t so bone tired....

Just as he was nodding off, a sharp knock startled him. Did he not give the strict order not to disturb him? Whoever was waiting outside could stay there. The door opened. Irritated, he looked up, but his angry shout stuck in his throat.

I must have lost it at last. I am hallucinating.

A Verdonian female, here on Earth? Diarmad rubbed his eyes and shook his head in a futile attempt to make the mirage go away, but it didn’t help. She was still there.

"Stop staring at me! It is rude and disrespectful. Do you not know how to behave in the presence of your queen?"

My queen?—I know this voice!

Misa! Last he saw the daughter of Migol, king of his home planet Tracct, she had been acting crown princess and not queen. But why does she look like a Verdonian? Moreover, why had she not changed to human? It was highly illegal to visit other planets without switching the outer appearance to that of the native species. Then Diarmad noticed another Verdonian female hiding behind her. She was much smaller. Could she be Misa’s mate? That would explain why Misa hadn’t switched to human form. As soon as Seraei mated, they transformed into their mate’s species, and lost the ability to exchange their look. Obviously, Misa’s mate was a true Verdonian.

So what are they doing here?

According to Seraei law, only an unmated king or queen was authorized to use the ancient portals connecting the planets, which were only to be used in defined cases of emergency. Mated rulers, as they could no longer change their appearance, had to send a representative instead.

"Not only are you endangering your own mate, who you should cherish and protect, but our entire species with your presence here!" Diarmad had never liked Misa; she had always been an arrogant, conceited person, but this was outrageous even for her standards.

Verdonian mated couples were not equal partners. Misa was easy to identify as the dominant mate by her much larger size and colorfulness. When she tilted her head and watched him with beady, dark eyes surrounded by a ring of crinkly, bright red skin, he thought she resembled a certain Earth bird. What was its name again? Yes! She looked like a giant, fat, featherless, blue-skinned turkey, especially as the rest of her face was a mixture of bronze and green iridescent, shimmering scales. The orange nodules sprouting all over her fleshy throat were especially repulsive.

While he was studying her, Noël came to his mind. Imagining what he would say to Misa’s flabby torso barely held in by the thin, cheongsam-like dress, a completely misplaced smirk appeared on Diarmad’s face.

"You dare to speak like that to me, whelp?" She stalked over to Diarmad’s desk, her deep red claws clicking against the marble floor. “And wipe that grin off your face!”

Whelp?

Diarmad actively recalled the calmness, the peace he had felt after Noël had drawn him into his shield in the morning. It gave him strength to maintain some semblance of control so he could ignore the insult and concentrate on finding out what was going on without provoking Misa any further. "I am only surprised that the crown princess of Tracct is mated to a Verdonian. Are you a resident of Verdo too now?" The red wattle hanging from her throat instantly swelled.

"I am not crown princess anymore! My worthless brother became king of Tracct," she yelled, then huffed, "Unfortunately, they discovered that I was responsible for our father's untimely death, and therefore found me unsuitable as queen. If I promised to behave and be as unobtrusive as possible, I was allowed to live and even have a bit of a status...on Verdo, an unimportant, tiny planet under the jurisdiction of Tracct and my brother! Ridiculous!" Her eyes shone with a sudden determination. "I was born to be queen. And I will be queen. If not of Tracct, then of Earth."

Of Earth?

Misa had overestimated her importance as long as Diarmad had known her, but that was bold, even for her. "I see. What makes you think you could take my place?"

"Oh, do not worry your pretty head! I won't take your place; I’ll just tell you what to do." She grinned. "I have it all planned out. With your mate sent away, you're finally weak enough, and I am here now so that we can move on to the next part. Your almost non-existent mental shields are no protection against our... guidance now." She taunted, "You don't stand a chance against me." Flicking her long, thin tongue over her beaked lips, she cackled. "Nobody will know who pulls your strings."

And for the first time, Diarmad felt a trace of uneasiness creep up his spine.

How did she know?

He looked at her smug face and suddenly everything fell into place. "You did something to me! You manipulated me somehow!" Noël! "What did you do to Noël?"

"I did nothing to your mate." She looked him up and down, then smiled. "That was all you! You pushed him away, doubted his loyalty, and the best… eventually sent him into the arms of another!”

“He is working with you!”

Misa made a strange cooing sound and folded her claws over her chest excitedly. “It was too easy. When I found the recipe for Severa at a foreign traveler's shop, I immediately realized the drug’s potential. Suddenly, the chance to be queen was within my reach again. You see, on a remote planet, a well-meaning healer invented the drug as a cure for Seraei who suffered from the loss of a long-time mate to prevent them from going mad or following their beloved into death. Severa cuts their mind’s connection. I was not the first who recognized the opportunity the severing of a mate bond offered, especially when you read the addendum and learn how easy it is to trigger certain side effects with only a few more herbs. Unfortunately, the drug was banned.

“That was why it was quite the effort to find all the ingredients. When it was done, I just had to decide which planet I wanted and get the codes for the portal. After careful consideration, I chose your unimportant, little Earth. We faked our deaths on Verdo and used a remote portal only few know about.

“When we came here, we only had to locate a latent telepath in your inner circle and persuade them to help us...."

By now, Misa was parading back and forth before Diarmad’s desk while explaining to him gleefully how vulnerable he had been, how easy to defeat. The hard clicking of her claws against the marble felt like acoustical whippings. "We pretended to be fugitives; a mated pair in danger of being killed by a treacherous brother. We had to hide because we couldn't change form anymore, and therefore were on Earth against the law. We told them we wanted to try to persuade you later to let us stay, as you were known to be such a generous king.” She giggled. “With the help of a sample of a Verdonian delicacy sprinkled with diluted Severa and the special herbs, their already barely- existing mental shields crumpled, and the pitiful fool believed every word I told him. They offered to hide us, even from you, their king. They let us stay in one of the empty apartments in the high rise you lived in with your mate. Some king you are!" She sneered. “Even my Kenra here could make them do whatever she wanted. It was fun.

"The rest was easy. They reacted wonderfully to our persuasion technique. We got them to mix the Severa with your food and drinks and gradually increased the dosage. At one time, we had to boost it up a little, so that even with their poor telepathic abilities they could ingrain distrust to your mate in your mind."

Diarmad couldn't help but look at the empty teacup sitting beside his arm. When Misa saw what he was doing, she cackled knowingly, and then proceeded to tell him the rest of the tale.

"With your mate gone, it was even easier. You noticed something was wrong, but you couldn't figure it out, and you became more and more anxious. Finally, you felt as if everyone was conspiring against you. We only had to fuel those fears some more, and in the end you trusted no one but the one who was responsible for your condition. It was hilarious.”

She stopped right before Diarmad. "Face it, King Diarmad, you have nothing and nobody left to counter us now; you're ours to do whatever we want."

And she was right; he was alone. The fleeting thought of why his bodyguard wasn't with him even though he had visitors entered his mind, but he couldn't finish it. He already felt the pressure of their combined mental assault. It was as though they tried to crush his head in a vise. He pressed the heel of one hand against his temple and raised the other in an absurd attempt to fend off her attack.

So pathetic....

Then he remembered the sword lying on the mantelpiece behind him. The same sword he had used to kill Moira.

Sword... kill.... The words ringing through his mind were finally making sense. He reached for it, but he had no strength left; Misa knocked the weapon out of his grip easily, and it clattered on the floor, sliding over the marble, out of his reach.

"Bad boy... you know I have to discipline you now, right?" She smiled, but there was a cruel glint in her eyes. "Feel and learn." With a fast motion, she extended three long, sharp talons from the upper side of her forearm and held them in front of Diarmad’s face as if she wanted to show them off. Her chest heaving, she leant forward to gauge his reaction, as if looking for fear. Her moist breath wafted over Diarmad’s face. It was so repulsive, he felt sick, and swayed forward, not able to stand upright any longer.

He didn’t know if she thought he was attempting to attack her, but when he toppled over, she lashed out, and sank her talons into the right side of his neck, ripping the skin open wider as she pulled back. Diarmad fell back into his chair, and pressed his hand against the gaping wound, blood already running down his arm.

Then the door barged open and with a shout, Ronan stormed into the room. Immediately understanding Diarmad was being attacked, he grabbed the sword lying on the floor. Misa turned around, screeched, and with her arm raised, the deadly talons extended, she advanced on her new target. Almost like slow-motion, Diarmad saw Ronan lift the sword and deflect her attack with a quick move. Everything seemed to happen at a far distance. His wound burned, and he became aware that it hadn't closed as it should have. Blood still seeped through his fingers, and he could do nothing to stop it. Then his eyesight became blurry and everything turned dark.

Strangely, however, he could still hear. Everything was very loud; there was shouting and shuffling. He heard a cry, then a thump as if something heavy had hit the floor. Desperately, he tried to open his eyes, to see what was happening, only then realizing that his eyes were already open; he just could not see.

More voices, panicked voices: "... bleeding to death. Noël ... can take only his...." Diarmad’s heart tried desperately to pump blood through his vessels, blood that wasn't there anymore. Pain spread through his whole body, burned deep inside him, gnawed at his innards. Then finally, numbness blended it out. His arms and legs became heavy, and he began to drift.

Tired… he felt so tired, but he still heard voices in the distance. "Ask why it doesn't close... Landyn said... wash it out... poison... talon... dress the wound... press...." Diarmad felt cold liquid running down his neck and chest; the burning lessened and something was pressed against the wound.

Diarmad woke when he something warm dripping on his neck. He tried to raise his hand, wanting to know what it was, but he was too weak. Then an arm was pressed against his mouth.

Warmth... life... mate.

When he was finally able to open his eyes, he noticed Noël standing next to him, his right wrist firmly pressed against Diarmad’s mouth, while his left hand was holding a sword.

Sword?

But Noël didn't look at him. His face was dark with fury as he scanned the room. "I can feel it, anguish... hatred. Someone else is here besides the dead turkey! Landyn!"

Diarmad lifted his head, and for the first time noticed his former chief of security was in the room too. He and Ronan were carefully observing the room. "Maybe there is another one. Verdonians can make themselves blend into the background for a short time."

His brain felt sluggish, but the words rang something in his mind. ...another one. He needed to tell them. Diarmad tried to push Noël's wrist aside so he could talk, but he only pushed it more firmly against his lips.

"Stop it. You need the blood. You haven't had enough yet."

Diarmad shook his head. "Mate...." he said, his voice muffled by Noël’s arm.

"Yes, I'm here, now stop talking and suck; you need more blood." Diarmad felt Noël’s tension as his body was pressed against his back.

Finally, he gathered enough strength to push the arm away and rasped, "No. Her... mate."

Noël’s eyes widened in understanding. "Shit! Landyn! Her mate is here somewhere... and she must be furious."

As if summoned by his words, Kenra suddenly materialized in front of them, her talons extended, a knife raised above her head poised at... Noël. She wanted to kill Noël! "No!" Diarmad pulled the remnants of his strength together and threw himself against her. His weight slammed into her middle, toppling her to the floor. He tried to snatch her weapon; somebody cried out, but he couldn't make sense of the words over his pounding pulse.

Kenra was back on her feet instantly, shifted the knife between her hands, and then struck down fast. Diarmad weakly rolled to the side, barely avoiding her attack. Panting, he lay on the floor, he couldn't move anymore; all of his strength was gone. With fading vision, he saw Noël gripping Kenra’s arm. When she tried to swipe at him with her talons, Noël tightened his hand around her wrist, then deflected the blow with his own sword. She ripped her arm out of his grip and with a last, desperate attempt, lunged forward to kill Diarmad. Then everything went black. The last thing he felt was a warm body sinking beside him on the floor, and in the distance someone was calling his name.

First I want to apologize for the delay. I became serious ill in August 2017. Even when I was better I wasn't able to write in English, an interesting experience actually.
Second I want to welcome @Valkyrie as my new editor . Thank you Val.
Third the next chapter is almost done.  
If you want to discuss this chapter or the story in general here is the thread.