“Hello, my brother. Up for a new beating in Chittel?” Salor joked as he rounded the small house Protectorate Oberian lived in. He stopped short when he saw his younger brother reclining on a patio chair, stoking a pipe. And Shasis sat tensely next to him, her tail swishing fast with some irritation. 

Shasis being here might mean so many things. She and Oberian often colluded together to keep the royal family safe. There was no scent of anxiety in the surrounding air. Though his brother had stopped smoking years ago, Salor was caught off guard. Not only at being asked to join him on a rare day off, but to witness him once again huffing at that nasty habit. Primarily, Oberian had a skiff runner at the lake, and he enjoyed nothing more than spending his free time on it when he left the palace. The act of fishing remained one of the two long-term passions Obie would never stop doing, the other visiting his late wife’s burial grounds once a week. 

Now seeing Shasis glance at him and back to his brother, put him on instant alert. Their similar roles for the kingdom’s top royals left little opportunity for casual visits and hangouts. They were worried about something.

Salor noticed the underlying nervousness in both Shasis and Oberian. He recognized the look since he once discovered his own identical tensions while serving so many years ago and, sadly, those same stresses collected their toll on Oberian. His muzzle showed more evident gray whiskers and a taut hardness showed in his broad shoulders. His pelt looked thinner, more worn. Still, his eyes remained keen.

Oberian waved him over. 

He couldn’t help but see the kinship and similarities between the man and his niece. Those matching hard eyes rarely softened in either, finding suspicion in most, regardless of who they were. Ever since Oberian bonded to King Nadiue, the first son and the successor of Salor’s long-ago protectorate to King Gidreon, the critical role of the protectorate gave him the right to suspect anyone. The same with Shasis with her royal charge of Prince Latik, now royal potentate if anything happened to his older brother. Overian and Shasis were equal in Salor’s mind. Equals, within this family, share equal excellence. More power to them, Salor thought to himself. The taste of achievement and togetherness within the protectorate role that once accompanied him dwindled to a distant memory.

Still, here Oberian puffed with determination from a pipe Salor assumed he tossed away once he started running again. Salor could almost taste the strong, bitter tang of the tobacco smoke that wafted to him. He scratched his ear, continued walking up to the porch, and tried to remain patient. This call was obviously not social. The memory of Oberian’s stoic expression and brisk manner as he delivered the news replayed in his mind. When the doctor revealed the considerable damage, and Oberian observed, he simply shook his head and acknowledged that Salor was unable to continue the race. 

It had been jarring and effective. If not for that instantly conveyed factual statement, Salor might have lingered in the hope of full recovery and slowly withered away with disappointment. Oberian simply ripped the bandage off to air the wound. 

Salor always admired that ruthless edge when Oberian made a fierce move. He even thanked him a year later when he once again became able to walk and found his brother’s judgment was true. So today, he knew waiting wouldn’t take long for Obie’s revelation.

Shasis’s presence might be the judicial or political aspect of whatever they were going to relay. While she effectually held Oberian’s backup role, her studies and training looked more toward the social realm. Oberian studied the strategy and military side. With both of them in the premier leagues of royal protection, disregarding a few cousins as lessor protectorates, this meeting must hold some significance. All that was missing was Spirito at this formal gathering of sworn protectorates. Salor suddenly became thankful his son had yet to bond to any formal position. This tandem meet-up didn’t feel right.

“You suddenly look a little too angry to whoop, Salor,” Oberian commented. “I’ll let you off this time.” 

While he no longer fed the obsessive beast that kept him on the edge when he shared that same role as protector, Salor still enjoyed the pull of the game. It had been more than two years, and he had hardly released his anger towards the gods who refused to grant him the physical abilities to hold that position. The scent of regret lingered in the air, a bitter reminder of the consequences of a single misstep. Another reason to avoid shuttles and ships, Salor grimaced. 

The memories of the day his crippling injury had happened burned in his mind. With careless disregard, as he stepped onto a boarding platform to ride shotgun to the royal peers on the relatively new shuttle, he’d erased his career in a moment. The excruciating pain endured having his leg pinned, grinding between the ship and the platform, when anti-gravity released and the shuttle shifted at the worst possible moment, still stopped his breath.

Salor purposely relaxes his glower that formed from the memories that leaped into his mind. He blinked and blew out a breath. While gazing at you, memories of our school days flood back, when life seemed simpler, and Mama’s healthy phase occupied our thoughts. I can still hear her voice expressing that ‘pipe dreams are sad, so quit.’ But I guess not. And calling in the calvary,” he pointed to his daughter, “might not be the wise choice. She believes your smoking is disgusting.”

Oberian stared and drew a long breath from the pipe and blew it out slowly.

Salor nodded and narrowed his gaze. “I see you’ve progressed to serious business and now keep that tremendous tension in your shoulders the way I used to do.”

Oberian nodded and lowered the pipe. He looked over at Shasis with a grimace and tossed the pipe onto a nearby spotless ashtray. “The tension keeps me sharp. And, as you well know, quitting does not run in our family. Serious business is sometimes not the easiest road to travel. I’m perpetually three moves behind. Or two years, as it turns out.” He frowned, his paw clenching in his lap.

Salor sensed his eyebrow ridge lifting. Oberian sounded furious. Since we’re not here to play Chittel and I haven’t come up with any new advice for diplomatic solutions for you or Shasis, I’m at the high protectorates’ disposal. What possible reason would cause you to be so angry that you don’t even have fresh lemonade on your day off? And by lemonade, I mean bar-made mixed with whiskey.” Salor demanded as she sat down in the patio chair. His brother loved the blended alcoholic beverage, and he also did. But they rarely got to drink it, much less together.

Oberian pushed a comm on his wrist. “Trin, can you please mix up my brother a larger lemonade? Use the good stuff.” 

Salor’s eyebrow ridge rose again. 

Oberian spent a few minutes waiting for the drink to be served by his house staff, checking in on Yilta and Spirito. He couldn’t believe Spirito’s five invitations when the family sent him the news weeks ago. He let Salor know he was sending Spirito a new organizational management software key to install on his tablet that the palace and other military systems were now using. 

Salor confirmed Spirito was thrilled and installed it right away.

Trin set down the drink without a sound and disappeared just as quietly. Yilta claimed the idea of filching Trin was forever on her mind whenever she had to do dishes, or she came to visit his brother. Yet, her loyalty to Oberian was unwavering.

Salor leaned back after a tangy draw on the cup and smacked his lips. The good stuff was delicious. That his brother was not drinking struck an even deeper chord of unease. Shasis was also only sipping on bottled water. Obviously, they intended to soften him up with stronger liquids for some significant news.

A new disclosure has been made by the medical facility that handled the late King’s demise. Since you no longer have access, we want to share the information. As it directly relates to you.”

Salor’s ears perked up. The news of King Gidreon passing from heart failure always made him twinge with thoughts of remorse. The medical review, completely in-depth with any royal passing, showed zero degrees of liability, conspiracy, or fraudulence. He’d reviewed the results himself, months later. He was bedridden and recovering from his own injuries.

“The medical board did not find any false results. We did not see any reason to bring it to our investigative enlightenment. However, our new research panelists, a small board of inquiry King Nadiue put together to review King Gidreon’s rulings on off-planet offensives, ran across a misfiled medical release relating to his hospital files. One that someone currently anonymous has received. While investigating its misfiling, one of the board members uncovered its connection to the hospital’s records of the late king’s heart failure. Further inquiry showed someone checked out the medical records and returned them altered. 

Salor set his drink on a side table and disregarded the fact it tipped and was pouring out onto the patio. He leaned toward his brother; his gaze fixed as if hunting. “What did someone alter?”

Oberian rubbed his eyebrow ridge and looked down at his paw. The calculated amount of a drug that was issued to the King. And before you ask,” Oberian looked at Salor, his gaze already affirming his words. “Yes, it could have affected his heart. The truth about potential effects is unknown due to the nature of medicine. Just that it could have.”

Salor stared at Oberian.

“The obvious conclusions even disturbed the hospital board enough that someone on staff, with such transparency, would conspire to kill the king. They have enabled all parties to scrutinize the records for any possible comparable handwriting or evidence.”

Salor sat back in his chair. He said in a flat voice, “King Gidreon was killed.”

Oberian looked at Shasis, and she nodded.

“Yes, Salor. He was.”

“The proof that I failed him finally comes around.”

“No, Da. There’s more.” Shasis said as she reached out and rested her paw on his arm.

Salor frowned. “More?”

“Yes.” She looked at Oberian and he nodded for her to continue.

“With the revelation of meds being altered, I went back to your shuttle accident. I had the investigative board pour through reports, videos, and paperwork. When they finished, they identified a three-second alteration in the video feed’s time stamp.

Salor tilted his head.

“The video cut off the captain’s radio conversation. We brought him in to listen and clarify. He confirmed, receiving the “all clear” to release the shuttle lock. So that mistake you thought you’d made was no mistake. You did not fail the king. Someone removed you to get to the king.”

Salor knew he should be vindicated, but he only experienced even more devastation. He was merely a Chittel captured stone, placed back in the bag. He looked back at his brother and found his own distressed looking back.

“We didn’t know, Salor. We just didn’t know.”

“But now we do,” Shasis growled, and he sought her fierce strength as she narrowed her eyes and bared her teeth. He experienced the sadness being pushed aside as the anger rose within.