Kiera's Moon

Chapter Six

If he had it his way, the woman would rarely leave his side. Despite her oddities, she drew him with her large eyes and quick wit. Even though he’d just met her, the bond between them was as strong as his father told him it would be. He wanted to gauge her ability with the strategic battle planning and measure just how intelligent his nishani was. If she proved to be as he suspected she was, she might find herself the first woman in his society given the official position of strategy battle planner, a position traditionally held by the dhjan alone.

Opal, the head of the Council, rose gracefully, pulling A’Ran from his thoughts. He and the others followed his lead.

“We will meet after we dine this evening,” Opal said.

The men withdrew. Ne’Rin caught A’Ran’s eye and nodded toward the door. A’Ran gave a curt nod. His second had training for the day.

“A’Ran, a word,” Jetr said as he prepared to leave. He waited for the others to file out of the command center. Jetr crossed to the door and closed it before asking, “Have you given any thought to what I warned you of a few weeks ago?”

A’Ran wiped his mouth, already uneasy with the topic. He trusted Jetr as much as he dared trust anyone.

“I only ask because my own personal guards—who, with your permission, keep an eye on the moon—have had transmissions from Anshan that did not come from your commanders,” Jetr said very carefully.

A’Ran crossed his arms, more hesitant to consider his second in command—and closest friend—being a traitor now that his sister was involved with Ne’Rin.

“We traced the communications to be from the personal communications device of the man who claims to be dhjan of Anshan,” Jetr continued when he did not speak. “Ne’Rin has been talking to his father, A’Ran.”

A’Ran pushed himself away from the table he leaned against and paced, thoughts turning to Gage, who would bear Ne’Rin’s child. He remembered the look on Ne’Rin’s face fifteen sun-cycles ago, when they’d learned what happened. No, Ne’Rin hadn’t been a traitor then. Something had changed him.

He’d lost faith in A’Ran. Maybe he missed his home, or maybe he was convinced that what the Council often said—that the Yirkin and remaining Anshans could live in peace together—was true.

“I cannot act until I am certain,” he said at last, his mood darkening.

“If you hesitate too long, you risk your life and those of your sisters.”

“Ne’Rin wouldn’t …” kill innocents as his father did. He couldn’t speak the words. His father’s most trusted advisor had done the unthinkable, and yet, Ne’Rin had borne all the sacrifices that A’Ran had by coming with him.

“You were no real threat to them without your nishani, but now, you can rally your people behind you with the promise of healing the planet. And the Council will help you build allies,” Jetr said.

“My forefathers rigged the mines on the planet to explode. I’ve thought more than once I’d like to set them off.” A’Ran bit off the words.

“Your forefathers were barbarians. Their threat is taught to us diplomats as an extreme negotiating tactic. They wouldn’t destroy their world any more than you would.”

A’Ran said nothing, aware his forefathers had never made a threat they didn’t intend to execute. The mines were rigged, and he’d never wanted to think he’d need to destroy his home in order to rid it of the blight affecting it. But to know even his most trusted advisor had lost faith in him enough to consort with the man who slaughtered his parents …