HAGAR'S LITTLE HELPER - PART 2

“Princess, it’s time to get up.” Darah tugs the curtains aside from the huge windows of my room. I sit up, stretch and get out of bed to view the landscape outside. The envelope of clouds overhead paints everything in shades of gray, buildings and rocks and barren ground alike. It looks like a rainstorm forever waiting to happen.

The arena is one of the few structures that stands out, lit up with warm yellow lights. Only the piles of bones scattered around the base of the walls give away its true nature. As I watch, a wooden cart is dragged through a side gate and its grisly contents dumped over a nearby slope. The shadows come alive not moments later as scavengers collect to dine on the latest victims of Lotor’s wrath. I have no stomach for viewing such things, and I’m not about to start. I turn away from the window before the feeding frenzy starts and sit down at the vanity.

Xerina and Darah are lively and cheerful in spite of the gloom outside. They wait on me with smiles, laughter and friendly chatter. It’s almost enough to make me forget about the little surprise I got with my flowers last night, which is now pacing restlessly inside its glass prison, clearly agitated at its capture. Both maids give it a wide berth as they move about the room.

Somehow I manage to get dressed and ready amid the banter. Both women escort me to the door with careful instructions on how to reach the dining hall before they turn back to clean the room. When I arrive at the dining hall, a guard standing near the doorway dips his head respectfully. I can feel his gaze lingering on me as I enter the room. He isn’t my soldier either, so I ignore him as I pass him by. I bet the girls could find out who that one is for me. I may have to put them to the task when I get back.

Lotor is already present and enjoying his meal. Hagar is occupying the second chair on his left and two other men are seated at Lotor’s right. The first is an older Drule in robes who looks as if he might be an advisor of some sort. He’s engaged in quiet conversation with Lotor. The second man is dressed in a crisp red and blue commander’s uniform, but his attitude contrasts sharply with the cut of his clothes. He’s slouching in his seat with eyes half closed as if he’s about to fall asleep from sheer boredom.

The older gentleman talking with Lotor is the first to take notice of my arrival. He breaks off his conversation and promptly rises from his chair to give me a deep, respectful bow. “Your Highness.”

Everyone else turns to look. The nearly-dozing commander suddenly sits up straight and gives me a toothy grin, his gaze lingering first on the low cut of my neckline, then on my hips. I get a strange feeling like I should be dangling from a meat hook in a slaughterhouse somewhere.

“Well hello, who’s this?” he says with pleasure in his voice. “Hiya, Sweetcheeks. You new around here?”

Hagar gives me a smile. “There you are, Tira. I wondered what was taking you so long.”

My brother seems rather surprised to see me. His hand clenches tightly on his drinking goblet as a serving girl fills it for him. He fixes his gaze on me as he raises it to his lips and takes a deep drink. After that he seems to regain his composure.

“Yes, little sister, how are you this morning? Enjoying your stay so far?” He’s smiling, but the expression is settled only in the upward turn of his lips. His eyes tell me plainly that I actually would be hanging from a meat hook if he had any say in it. I feel a little shiver of fear tickle down my back, but I swallow it quickly. I will not let him see that I’m afraid of him, no matter how badly I might feel it. I tilt my head and give him a pleasant smile instead.

“Yes, it’s been very nice, thank you. I especially enjoyed the gift you sent me last night.”

His eyes narrow ever so slightly at the mention of the flowers. “I’m glad you liked them. I had the finest specimens chosen from my personal greenhouse on Skaen to create that particular arrangement.”

And there is my missing chicken. Rock scorpions aren’t native to Skaen, much less found in the controlled environment of a greenhouse. A wash of anger through my system replaces my fear quickly. I look him straight in the eye as I walk over to take my place at his left, between him and Hagar.

“How sweet of you, brother dear. I must remember to return the kindness someday.”

His smile fades as he watches me take my seat. “I’m sure you will.” He gestures toward the robed man who remains standing by his chair. “This is Modru, by the way, my chief advisor, and the fellow beside him is Cossack, commander of my forces on Marlowe. Modru, Cossack, this is my little sister, Princess Tiralyn.”

“A pleasure, Your Highness.” Modru dips his head again and sits down. Cossack glances in Lotor’s direction, then he begins to clean the last of the crumbs from his plate with a finger. After a moment he looks in Modru’s direction, seems to realize his blunder and gets up to give me a hasty bow.

“Sorry about that, doll - er, I mean Princess…ah, what was it again? Miralyn?”

“You were close, Commander. It’s Tiralyn, but most people call me Tira.”

A servant places a plate in front of me. I study it briefly. I’m pretty sure the food isn’t poisoned, since Lotor was expecting the scorpion to do the deed. But I’m not going to take any chances. I whisper the negation spell at my meal. Hagar glances at me, but says nothing as she picks up her glass.

“Tira. Gotcha.” Cossack gives me another toothy grin and a wink. “You sure do liven up the architecture around here, that’s for sure.” He resumes his seat, brushes his long, gray hair off his shoulders, interlaces his fingers and puffs himself up in a valiant attempt to look important. “Say, Lotor, is it time for me to make my report yet?”

Lotor looks distracted as he takes another sip of his drink. “Go ahead, Cossack.”

“Right. Here’s the report on the rebel situation. As you know, there was another attack made on the stockpiles we’re keeping in the storehouses on Galib Island. This time, though, I was good and ready for it. I let a rumor slip that the lazon was being transported to a safer place, and I had a thousand troops waiting along the route I specified to spring the surprise. We took five captives this time around.”

Lotor doesn’t appear to be very impressed. “Five, eh? I suppose that’s meant to make up for the three dozen or so you allowed to escape during the last skirmish you reported.”

Cossack’s mouth twists up into a frown. “Well yeah, there is that.”

“Have you interrogated any of them yet?”

“I tried to work them over a little on the way, but I didn’t get much.”

“Then why bother to bring them here in the first place?”

“Well, I thought maybe you could toss them into the arena, see? Broadcast the event to their homeworld, closed-captioned and everything. Make an example of them. That would shake the rebels up pretty good. You know, crush the morale and whatnot.”

Lotor turns thoughtful. “Hmm, I think I have a better idea. Hagar could work on them with her magic, then you could take them back to Marlowe to let them be rescued on purpose. They would act as our spies, and we could destroy the rebels from the inside out.”

“Say, that’s a great idea!”

“Of course it is, you idiot. That’s why I’m the King, and you‘re not.” Lotor looks at his advisor. “What do you think, Modru?”

“I believe it could work, Your Majesty,” Modru replies. “It would do us well to see Hagar’s magic finally put to some practical use.” He smirks at Hagar and lifts a forkful of food to his mouth. She raises her hand slightly and traces a sigil in the air with a finger. The morsel of food on the end of Modru’s fork turns putrid just as he eats it. His eyes shoot wide as he begins to chew, then he gags, coughs violently and finally spits the mouthful discreetly into his linen napkin.

“What about you, Hagar?” Lotor asks. “Do you agree?”

Hagar smirks at Modru as he hastily gulps down half his glass of juice, then she turns to Lotor. “I believe your idea has much merit, Sire, but it may take some time to implement it properly. Even if we do succeed in planting the spies, weeding out the last of the rebels will be long and tedious. They didn’t spring up overnight, and they won’t be destroyed overnight either.”

Lotor frowns. Hagar’s lack of support seems to have disappointed him. “All right, old witch, do whatever it takes. But do it quickly as you can. I’m getting tired of playing cat and mouse with a bunch of mere slaves. They need to be found and made an example of.”

“That’s what I’ve been trying to do, Your Most Magnificent Malevolentness,” Cossack protests. “I hunt them down every chance I get, but they have all sorts of caves and passages in the mountains to retreat into. It’s just like those Arusian bums were when your dad first attacked them.”

Lotor frowns. “Was that comparison necessary?”

Cossack cringes slightly. “Ahh...I was just trying to make a point, Your Majestic Meanness.”

“You already have a point, but your helmet hides it.” Lotor smiles to himself over his little joke and takes a sip of his drink. Cossack accepts the insult with a shrug.

“Then how about this. If we aren’t going to do the spy thing, I could take a fresh division or two into the mountains to go rebel-hunting. I’m sure I’d collect a couple of trophies that way.”

Hagar turns to Cossack. “Don’t be so sure. Remember the officer assigned to Marlowe before you? Commander Relon thought the same thing when he led his search party into the mountains to try and smoke them out. Their bodies still haven’t been found.”

Cossack makes a face. His bravery seems to have abandoned him all of a sudden.

“Okay, so let’s do the spy thing after all. Safer that way. We’ll wrap this whole thing up nice and quick.”

Hagar shakes her head. “There’s no such thing as ‘nice and quick’ under these circumstances, Cossack. It will take time for our spies to regain trust among their friends. The fact that the prisoners returned alive and in one piece after being brought to Doom to be interrogated would make the others suspicious. These slaves have to remain firmly under our control, yet their behavior must appear completely normal to put their friends at ease. I’ll have to create something very subtle and complex, and it will take time.”

Cossack shrugs again. “Okay, whatever. It doesn’t matter much to me, as long as I get to wreak havoc on them all in the name of Doom. Someday those little pink-skinned baboons will hear the name of Commander Cossack the Terrible and cringe in fear. Better believe they will.”

Lotor laughs. “As you say, Cossack. I’ll tell you what. Since you actually have accomplished something this time around, I suppose a reward is in order. I’ll let you have your pick of some my choicest slave girls.”

Cossack pauses to study the blonde girl pouring him more drink. “Can I hang onto that offer for later, Your Regal Ruthlessness?”

Lotor arches an eyebrow. “Why? Any other time you’re busting at the seams to get your hands on the women around here.”

“Yeah, I know. But you see, the prisoners...there was this one girl. She’s a brunette with big green eyes, stacked like a three-cushion sex chair. I was toying with her, threatening her with my whip, see, and she got this look like maybe she was...well, like she was getting a little excited despite the fact that she was scared. Know what I mean? So I was wondering if I could keep her for just a little while, to play around with. It’s not every day I get someone who might be willing - okay, so I never get anyone who might be willing. But that’s beside the point.” He clasps his hands and gives Lotor a pleading look. “Can I keep her, pretty please?”

Lotor laughs again, long and loud. Cossack gives him a sheepish little grin, his expression still hopeful. Lotor raises his goblet to him as if in salute.

“All right, you old slinkwog. You can entertain yourself with your rebel prisoner. While you’re at it, you might want to try threatening that the continued survival of her friends depends entirely on her performance. Sometimes that makes them even more cooperative.” He gives Cossack a conspirator’s wink.

“Really?”

“Really, and I speak from experience. Enjoy your new toy. You have my blessing.”

Cossack beams at Lotor. “Thanks, Your Most Divine Druleishness. I’ll keep that threat thing in mind.”

Lotor is grandly amused. “I bet you will.” Then he turns toward Hagar, his tone more businesslike. “Hagar, complex magic or not, I need this taken care of as quickly as possible, understand?”

“Yes, Sire,” Hagar replies. She and Cossack begin to trade suggestions about how to replace the spies among their peers once the process is complete. Lotor resumes eating while Modru informs him of the other events of the day. I find myself staring at nothing in particular as I pick at the contents of my plate. I thought the servants were exaggerating about my dear brother, but it seems they were right after all. I guess I’ve set my hopes about him far too high.

Modru breaks me out of my musing by acknowledging me before he departs. Cossack and Hagar excuse themselves to pay a visit to the prisoners. I stand up from the table to follow Hagar, but she holds up a palm to stop me.

“Why don’t you take a little time to talk with your brother, and I’ll meet you back at your room. We may end up having to cast a spell or two on these prisoners before we start work on the potion.” She looks at Lotor. “Is that all right with you, Sire?”

“Certainly,” Lotor replies stiffly.

“You kids have a pleasant chat, then.” She heads for the door with Cossack right behind her. I wait patiently for them to leave before I turn to face my brother.

“Your scorpion missed.”

He appraises me casually as he holds his goblet out to get another refill. “I see that.”

I swallow back the anger that tightens my throat. “Why did you do it?”

“All’s fair in love and war, as it’s said. And this is not love.” He studies his glass as he swirls the contents around. “The last thing I need right now is competition for my crown from a blood relative on top of all the other trouble I’ve been having lately.” He looks up at me. “Do you have even the faintest idea of why you’re here?”

“Of course I do. Once I have all the items I need, I’m going to planet Arus to perform a special mission. Hagar told me so last night.”

Lotor arches an eyebrow. “Arus, eh? Interesting, but that’s not what I’m asking. Do you know why you’re standing here, in this room, right this very minute? It’s not because I told daddy Zarkon that I wanted a little sister to play with, I assure you.” He smirks to himself, then his expression sobers. “You’re here because Hagar convinced father that your so-called magical potential made you worth saving from the pit. So he let her take care of you because he figured the old bat may be right, and you could turn out to be useful later on.” His lips purse into a thoughtful frown. “Now he’s gone, and Hagar has a royal underling to help her do her dirty work. I can just imagine what sort of ambitions she’s planted in your head.”

“Your paranoia isn’t justified, Lotor. I have no designs whatsoever on the throne. I only want to pursue my magical studies. You can keep your precious crown and the headaches that go along with it for all I care.”

Lotor smiles without humor. “I wish I could believe you, but I know that old witch too well. She’s got plans for you, and it’s your mistake to believe otherwise.”

“The only mistake I seem to have made so far is believing that our being related meant something to you. I’m almost sorry that I‘m your sister.”

He sneers at me. “Half sister. Only half. Don’t you forget it.” He studies my face. “It really is pretty foolish of you to think that blood counts for anything other than being spilled where I’m concerned. You have too much human sentiment in you. It shows in your eyes.” He smirks at his little joke, then at me as he takes a sip from his glass.

“Human sentiment? Funny that you of all people should accuse me of it. Is that how you account for your obsession with Princess Allura, or do you have another excuse?”

He slams his glass down in a rage, splashing wine all over the tablecloth. “That’s none of your damned business!”

“Temper temper, brother dear. You won’t digest your food well.”

His lip curls into a furious sneer. “You’re wearing out your welcome rather quickly, little sister.”

“Isn’t that supposed to be half-sister, or is that silly human sentiment getting the better of you too now?”

He clenches a fist so hard that it trembles. I can’t keep but smirk at him.

“I’m terribly sorry, but someone seems to be forgetting that they’re a half-breed too. I suppose since you have nothing to give you away physically, it’s much easier for you to do so. How fortunate it is to be you.”

“That’s enough!” He leaps to his feet and rounds the table to start toward me. I hop out of my own seat, overturning it as I quickly back away. He kicks the chair aside as he advances, drawing his sword as he does. I continue to retreat, grasp my amulet and raise my free hand. Power sparks from my fingertips.

“Oh, just you try it,” I tell him. “I’ll turn you into a toad, and then you can sit around all day in a swamp of your choosing and hope for your sweet little princess to come along and kiss you. How long do you suppose you’ll be waiting for that to happen?”

Lotor studies my glowing hand for a time and then a slight smile comes to his lips.

“Well, you’ve got spine, I’ll give you that.” He sheathes his sword after another long hesitation. “Not bad. Not bad at all.” He nods to himself. “I could actually wind up liking you in spite of myself. But don’t count on it.”

He marches around me in a wide circle and leaves the dining hall in a huff. I draw a shaky breath and wait until I’m sure he’s gone before I heave a deep sigh of relief. Then I gather my wits and leave the room myself. The adrenaline in my blood keeps my heart thumping briskly as I go through the corridors at a near run. It takes me a while to realize that in my hasty departure from the dining hall I’ve made a very wrong turn and managed to get myself lost. I slow my steps and frown at nothing in particular.

Further on and around the corner to my left I can hear two men talking. I’m sure it’s some of the palace guards, and they’ll know proper directions. I head to the end of the hall.

“Her mother had to be human, judging by those big blue eyes of hers. It’s a rather exotic look.”

The next voice I hear sounds like the soldier I met on the roof. “I agree. Exotic, but very attractive.”

Attractive. He thinks I’m attractive. I pause just short of the corner to listen a little longer.

“You want her, don’t you Garn?” The other man teases.

“Shut up.”

“I’m your friend, you know. You can admit that you wouldn’t mind having her legs locked around your hips for an evening.”

“Kyle...”

“Yeah, I know, Hagar made a pretty heavy threat. But what the old witch doesn’t know won’t hurt her, you know. Be creative, and then you could be lucky.”

I take that opportunity to round the corner. It’s my solder all right, along with the other one I saw talking to him on the roof. They’re sitting in an alcove at a small table with weapon parts scattered all over it. The one named Kyle is facing in my direction. He takes notice of me and raises a finger to his lips. I arch an eyebrow at him and he smiles and winks. I give a shrug and remain silent. He picks up a rifle sight and looks through it.

“Damn it, the lenses still aren’t clean!”

Garn replies without looking up from what he’s doing. “You know, Captain Talik always faults you for having dirty lenses. I think it’s mind games. No one in this entire castle keeps their laser rifle cleaner than you do.”

“Maybe so.” He sets the part aside. “Speaking of sights, I noticed that the princess was giving you the once-over herself. Maybe she’s sizing you up for an opportunity to invoke her royal privilege.”

“I doubt it.”

“But what if she was? What would you do?” He looks up and gives me another wink. I smile at him and await the answer as eagerly as he does.

“I’ve already told you. She’s very pretty and I’d be lying if I said I had no interest in her, but I doubt she’s going to be interested in a mere soldier when she can have a pleasure slave sent to her room.”

“Ahh, I’ve seen some of those buffoons around here. They aren’t all that great-looking if you ask me. We could be good competition, you know. I bet if we doused ourselves in cologne and walked around with no shirts on, we could both quit our day jobs.”

“You’re a laugh a minute, Kyle.” Garn sets the rifle barrel aside and picks up another part to clean. Then he notices that Kyle is looking at someone behind him.

“What, the Captain’s here for inspection already...?” He twists in his chair to look. I smile and wiggle my fingers at him. He blinks at me, swallows tightly, then he turns to glare at his friend. Kyle immediately straightens his expression from a quiet laughing fit to one of mock innocence. Garn looks back at me and Kyle resumes his grin.

“Your Highness.” Garn rises to his feet immediately to bow to me, as does Kyle. “How may we be of service?”

“I think the cologne and shirtless idea would be good start.”

Garn startles and clears his throat politely as he averts his gaze. Kyle chuckles. Garn glares at him and recovers his composure nicely as he turns back to me.

I fold my hands in front of me and try not to look as embarrassed as I feel. “Actually, I’ve managed to get myself lost and I could use a guide to show me the way back to my room in the guest’s chambers.”

“Bingo!” Kyle says with a grin. Garn shoots him an evil glare. I arch an eyebrow at Kyle.

“Bingo? What’s that?”

“It’s a cry of victory that humans use all the time,” Kyle replies. “Or, it’s the name for ‘salted lizard balls’ on Jenva. Your choice.”

I look at Garn. He gives an embarrassed shrug in return.

“Please excuse him, will you? The rigors of duty have made him a little crazy.”

Kyle grins and waggles his eyebrows at me. Garn turns to him.

“It’s not proper to keep Her Highness waiting like this. Let’s get her back to the guest area now.”

Kyle makes a face. “I have a better idea. How about I stay here to watch the rifles, and you perform the escort service? Someone has to stay here with the gear. We leave these parts lying around unattended and there won’t even be a grease spot left when we come back.” He smiles at me. “Do you mind, Your Highness?”

“No, not at all. I would hate to see you lose any of your valuable equipment.” I turn to Garn. “I’m ready when you are.”

Garn glances from me to Kyle and back to me again, fully aware of the conspiracy going on around him. “Very well, Your Highness.” He gestures down the corridor to my left. “The guest rooms are right this way.”

Kyle gives him a huge grin. “Want me to tell the Captain you’re on patrol if he comes by?”

Garn shakes his head. “Don’t need to. It won’t take that long.”

“Are you sure? The halls run like a maze in some places. The two of you could take a wrong turn, get lost and be stranded somewhere for a long time...” He lets the sentence trail off meaningfully. Garn gives him a very stern frown, then he turns to me with a polite smile.

“Shall we go, Your Highness?” He starts off and I follow after. Kyle chuckles softly as we leave. Garn gives a quiet growl and begins to walk briskly, then he calms and slows to a stop.

“I beg your pardon, Highness. I didn’t mean to just leave you behind like that.” The concern on his face is genuine. I shake my head at him.

“It’s quite all right. Carry on.”

He dips his head to me and resumes his walk. I watch his face as he goes. His gaze is fixed straight ahead and his mouth is set in a firm line. It makes for a pleasing profile.

“Does your friend always tease you like that?” I ask.

His lips poke slightly forward in a charming little pout. “Yes, he does.”

“He’s quite a joker.”

“He can be, when he’s not trying to charm the slave girls around here.”

“I imagine he meets with success most of the time. He seems like he could be very charismatic if he set his mind to it.”

Again the charming pout. “Yes, he can, I suppose.”

“I also imagine you don’t have much difficulty when you’re off charming slave girls yourself.”

He seems embarrassed at the statement. “I don’t make the attempt very often, really. Only...when the urge becomes too difficult to deal with.”

“I see. That’s very interesting.”

He glances my way but he doesn’t reply. We finally arrive at the door to my room, and I turn to study his face as I stand with my hand resting on the knob. “How would you have answered your friend’s question, by the way?”

He arches an elegant brow. “Beg pardon, Highness?”

“What if I did choose to invoke royal privilege with you for an evening?”

He gapes at me in surprise. “Am I required to answer that?”

“Only if you want to.”

He takes a long time to reply. “I wouldn’t mind at all, to be honest, Your Highness.”

I reach out to brush a fingertip down the front of his uniform. “Neither would I.”

There is another long silence while his gaze roams my body, and I take a moment to imagine what it would be like to become the recipient of one of his urges. The very thought makes a tingly little thrill pool in my belly. I gnaw on my lip and look him over with the same sort of longing appraisal that he’s giving me. A hint of playfulness creeps into his smile as he moves close, his eyes fixed on mine.

“Does Her Highness wish to have her way with me, according to royal privilege?”

“I most certainly do.”

“Then I shall be most pleased to obey you royal order.”

He draws me into his embrace and I tilt my face up toward his, my eyes drifting closed, anticipating the touch of his lips on mine. It’s just my luck that Coba decides to announce his presence right then with a loud meow. Garn startles, releases me and quickly creates a respectful distance between us just as Hagar rounds the corner. She gives him a disapproving scowl, and he backs off even further. She brushes past him with a quiet grunt.

“Cossack decided that he wants to interrogate his prisoners a little more before I get them,” she says to me. “We’ll start work on the potion for now, unless you plan to be busy...” She glances at Garn, who is now standing at rigid attention, his gaze fixed on an imaginary point in space.

I shake my head. “It’s all right, Hagar. You weren’t interrupting anything. I’m ready to help.”

She looks Garn over again. He doesn’t budge. Somehow I get the feeling that his continued survival depends entirely on his holding very, very still in her presence. Considering the threat she made to him and the others on the roof, it probably does. I feel a twinge of panic at the thought of him being punished for something I started. I won’t let that happen. I’m fully prepared to defend him if I have to.

“All right, then let’s be going,” Hagar says finally. She turns to go back the way she came. I start after her without looking behind me until I reach the end of the hall. Garn isn’t standing there anymore when I do. I give an inward sigh and set my mind on magic of the non-emotional kind as I follow Hagar to the lab.

To Hagar's Little Helper: Part 1

To Hagar's Little Helper: Part 3