The ordeal of the day would explain why his head was hurting so badly for sure, but there was something else there. Something tickling the edge of his memory and making his headache worse.
He opened his eyes and sat up, and everything dropped into place.
Ithril had given him something and then he'd passed out. And now he was… in a transporter?
What in the worlds?
Carver scrambled up from the cot and walked around the small space. Transporters were small crafts, usually built to hold no more than one or two people. They could be preprogramed with a destination and would head on that course unless the program was overridden.
He made his way to the control panel, frowning at the coordinates that had been put into the system. They weren't immediately familiar, but when he looked out of the massive window and saw where he was heading, his stomach dropped.
The blue and green of the planet was instantly recognizable.
Someone was sending him to Earth. But why? Earth wasn't even in the same quadrant as Khaosali. Someone clearly wanted him out of the way, and though the niggling voice in the back of his mind told him that he knew exactly who it was, he didn't want to think that his brother was capable of this kind of treachery. Not so soon after their father's passing, and not in general. There had to be something else going on, something he was missing. Perhaps someone pulling the strings that his brother felt compelled to obey.
The reasoning seemed flat in his own head, but he pushed that away. When he got back to Khaosali he could find all the answers. But first he had to get there.
Carver punched in the usual override code so he could reprogram the destination, only to be informed in a cool Sitheri voice that his code could not be confirmed.
He swore violently in the same language and tried it again with the same results. No one but a Council member of the leader of the clan had the authority and the clearance to change override codes, which significantly lowered the number of people who could be responsible for this.
He still couldn't understand the motive, though. What did anyone gain from having him gone?
You know the answer to that, the little voice in the back of his mind said. And maybe he did. Maybe he just didn't want to face the fact that it could be possible. Either way, he was heading towards Earth, and there was very little he could do about anything until he got there.
All he could do was take a seat and watch the strange planet he knew very little about get bigger and bigger in the window.
Chapter 2: Ploys and Unrest
Ithril stood in the Meeting Hall and watched morning break over the land. The mourners had gone home in groups over the course of the night, and now it was quiet and still. Somewhere in space, his brother was heading towards Earth. It pained Ithril to do it, but he knew that he didn't have another choice.
Honestly, this whole thing had been easier than expected. He'd thought that their father was going to make Carver the leader outright just because he was older. It would have been so much harder to get him out of the way then, but Angen had made them co-leaders, giving him the same amount of power as his brother.
If only Carver could have been different. Their father was known for his love of peace. He didn't want to start what he saw as pointless battles with the Des'kos, when bargaining with them worked the same way.
But it didn't. They had to give away more and more of their land and their dignity to keep the barbarians appeased. All it would take was the right amount of violence, killing their king or taking some of them hostage, and they could turn this around. Instead of capitulating to the beasts, they could be the ones making demands. Ithril had been telling his father that for years, since he was old enough to know the true nature of the struggle against the Des'kos. But Angen had been ignorant and had dismissed his words time and time again.
Well, Angen was dead now. And it pained Ithril to have to think of it like that, but he didn't have time to be sentimental.
The Council would be convening later that day, and people would start to notice that Carver was gone. He had to do something before that happened.
Ever since Angen had fallen ill, Ithril had been planning. Actually, he'd been planning since their mother had died. She hadn't gone peacefully like Angen. No, Bethali had been grievously injured in a raid by a few Des'kos rebels. Angen had been all set to retaliate, but when the king of the Des'kos had denounced the rebels and claimed he'd had nothing to do with sending them to Sitheri territory, Angen had stood down and forbidden anyone to lash out at the Des'kos.
Ithril had been furious. Those barbarians had killed his mother. They'd shot her with a poison tipped arrow, and she'd died slowly and painfully some hours later. There hadn't been anything the doctors could do to slow the poison's work, and Ithril had watched the light leave Bethali's eyes.