Micha had glared at the poor schmuck that delivered the message. She just knew the emperor was knee deep in shit and expected her to dig him out. “So, we wait here to switch ships?”
“Yes, alpha.”
Micha exhaled on a grunt. “Okay. Tell the emperor we’ll be here.” With a wave she ended the link. No point in shooting the messenger. “There Captain. As soon as we are aboard the imperial ship, head back to base and go where ever they need you.”
Turned out their ride showed up early. Lucky for them Micha had rounded up everyone that was going with her and the prisoners. They were not going to find dust on her.
Aboard the new ship, it was clear that it was a new model. It still smelled new. A tour showed it consisted of three levels which included the bridge. Micha chose to keep the prisoners close since there was no where to stick them. It was not that she thought they were capable of getting away, but she was just not willing to risk anything.
Medic had retuned to base as there was much there that required his attention. Ipino and Desohta stayed with her; that made travel easy. Phal was being discreetly monitored by the healer and Ipino was in charge of their personal gear.
Everyone was seated in the shared lounge. There was not really anything available to entertain themselves with. Micha decided that was something that needed to be rectified. For now, they talked about anything that kept them out of trouble. Some of the topics got heated, but usually ended in laughter.
What was one to expect of a room full of warriors?
A tinkling chime informed the group that someone was at the door. With a discreet nod from Micha, Ipino went to answer the door. The pilot on the other side of the door did not seem pleased to have been made to wait on his own ship. Micha cared not a wit.
When he went to go around Ipino and was blocked anger flooded the air.
“Deliver your message,” Ipino stated. “I will see she gets it.”
“You are not the alpha,” came the retort.
Ipino grinned wolfishly. “My alpha sent me and there is no one on the chain of command above me, but her. Now, I am done being insulted; deliver your message or I will hunt down someone who can.”
An envelop changed hands and the messenger was gone.
“Well,” Micha sighed. “What games is the emperor playing now?”
Ipino read the message. “Doesn’t say. Just that he needs you to be all bite and asks that the Maahes and Miysis are just as formal.”
“Hm,” Micha stood and tapping her chin with a finger and began to pace. “Wish Max was here he’s the info-guy. Okay, we can assume he wants ‘alpha off the leash’ but he asks the rest to be at your formal best. Whoever he is impressing either has their own versions of us or are a threat of a different kind and he is using the show of force to set a clear line in the sand.”
“What does sand have to do with anything?” Malik wondered.
“It’s an expression alpha uses. It indicates that by crossing said line there are clear consequences and once crossed there is rarely an easy way back,” Ipino explained.
“I like it,” Malik laughed.
“Alright,” Micha grimace. “Everyone into their formal best. No way of knowing when we will arrive.”
Everyone froze as all the signs of entering a wormhole showed themselves. Vision was distorted, like looking at different layers of an underdeveloped image. Sound was muted and gravity was disorienting. Then it was over.
Micha threw her hands in the air. “Dressed. Now.” She disappeared into the room where Ipino stored their gear and waited. Ipino handed out uniforms with the underdog insignia on it. The image was of a black cat snarling in the background and only showed half the face. In the forground it showed a howling dog with a shadow dog in the same pose.
The insignia was on the buttons and a patch over the heart. The uniform was black except for a rectangle that had one of the corners over the heart. Inside the triangle was coloured to resemble a galaxy. There was no way to denote rank. Micha had done that on purpose. Things happened and she was not going to let her warriors waste time looking for a new leader unless they had to.
Micha smirked. Phal was dressed in the uniform and it no longer fit. He had filled out since he was fitted. “Well, someone has improved.”
Phal blushed. “I might as well be naked for all this hides,” he grumbled.
Micha swallowed a laugh. Keeping a straight face, she motioned for him to turn around. The uniform certainly fit like a second skin. It was not going to work. She took him to the replicator and had him stand on the pad. With a few quick commands and the inserting of his uniform, to his discomfort, a new uniform was produced.
Phal was quick to dress. This time the uniform fit appropriately. With a nod she smiled. Was he always that tall? She had to remember if she had always looked up or not. She shrugged it off.
Once everyone was back in the room it became clear that Shuja' had no formal wear.
“Well, you have the choice of which you want to wear,” Micha stated.
Shuja' became the first of her people in a war pack uniform. Her delight was evident in the cut of her shoulders as she took her place next to Phal.
“Well now we wait. Though I doubt the wait will be long,” the door chimed and Micha chuckled. “Phal please see who it is.”
Right fist to heart, he gave a short bow and went to the door.
A different messenger was waiting. “Please inform your Alpha we are docking as we speak and she and her party will be able disembark as soon as she is ready.”
“She’s ready now,” Phal replied.
The messenger escorted the group to the shuttle exit after he collected four more crew from the cargo hold to assist with the gear.
Appearing bored was simple enough. Micha left any questions that required answers to Ipino and Desohta. The emperor wanted teeth she’d show them, but in the mean time she gave thoughts to the new enterprise and the future of the blood wine.
As the door slid out of the way, Micha bowed to Malik and he descended the ramp first. The emperor and someone she did not know was waiting. Micha approached the emperor and ignored his guest. She gave a salute and quick bow.
“Had I known you were busy I would have delivered the prisoners to the palace. No need to go out of your way for me,” Micha gave a cheshire grin.
“Not at all,” Ma’al grinned back. “There was a miscommunication we have been waiting for your arrival.”
Micha kept the bored look on her face. Something had made the emperor almost pull out of whatever this was supposed to be. Somehow her being there was going to change something. Whatever that was seemed important.
“We were hunting,” Micha continued as though nothing had changed. “That hunt spilled into a bigger hunt,” Micha showed a feral grin. “Which dragged you into it. So, the gods saw fit to bring me here.”
The woman next to Ma’al flashed a few hand signals to the heavens and gave a bow of her head.
Micha gave a slow blink, but it looked like the emperor relaxed a fraction. A flicker of a nod told Micha to ask after the woman.
Instead she turned to the woman. “I am alpha Micha Bailey. These are my pack: Ipino and Desohta, Phal and Shuja' and this is my ally Guardian Commander Rakib-Janah
Malik and his lieutenants, Avery and Alba,” Micha acted the alpha part to the fullest. She was unable to feign disinterest so she went with bored.
“I am High Priestess of the Rihanon temple. These are my guard commanders, Shurwhal and Valenta.”
“Ipino and Phal take the prisoners to my quarters and see them secure in one of the rooms,” she looked at the emperor. “Someone will relieve you of the duty. If,” she nodded to the emperor. “You will lead the way or tell me where to meet you, I can rinse the travel dust away.”
“Then shall we meet in one hour?” the High Priestess queried.
A micro shake from the emperor was the only clue. “Unnecessary. Thirty minutes will suffice to freshen up.”
“Of course,” the woman hesitated. “Will you join me for tea?”
Micha wanted to groan, but gave a nod. “That will serve.”
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“Then please excuse me,” the priestess nodded once.
It was only once they were alone that the emperor breathed. Micha wanted to snicker, but refrained. It was evident that the situation was tense. How he expected her to change anything she was certain to find out.
“Oh, sweet merciful, whoever set your course, thank you. I was this close to ending the meeting.” Ma’al’s hands nearly touched. “That woman is insufferable. Nothing I said even dented that thick skull. I have dealt with battle hungry, but,” he shook his head. “Two weeks and I still have no idea why they arranged this meeting.”
Micha’s eyes went wide as saucers. The only one she knew that was better at sussing out information was Max. She let out a deep sigh. “Well, lets go see what we can figure out. When we sit, I will be on the emperor’s left. Ipino and Desohta will stand behind the emperor. Phal and Shuja' will stand behind me.
“Since Malik is here relating to the prisoners he will sit to my left. If,” Micha continued. “I am served first. I will turn the cup to the emperor. When we are talking, if she is ignoring the emperor, we need a way for you to say yea or nea. I advise using one finger tap for no and two for yes. No taps leaves the decision to me. Agree?”
Ma’al gave a slow nod. She had figure out how to put him back in to conversation and show that she deferred to him. She truly was dangerous. “That works.”
On Earth, she had watched a traditional tea ceremony. It had been a project for school and had amazed her. The detail and preparation necessary for service was meticulously organized. All of it. The type of tea leaves, the temp of the water, the whisk, the tea pot, cup, and napkin. All for both parties to have a single sip.
What had once been almost a ritual had become an art form people were taught.
The tea that the High Priestess offered was equally as complicated. Micha watched as she prayed over the water, the tea leaves and the tea pot. All before she washed the pot and cup. Then she boiled two pots of water, open three boxes each with different dried leaves and flowers, cut the leaves and flowers, and set them in the cup. One of the pots was brought to a boil the other was removed before it boiled.
Once she was prepared, she poured the boiling water over the tea pot and cup. Setting the cup right side up in front of her she poured the leaves and flowers into the pot and filled the tea pot with hot water. Using a special whisk, she went counter clockwise three times and removed the whisk. Placing the lid on the tea pot she poured the tea and set the cup off center of Micha; indirectly giving it to Ma’al.
Micha took the napkin and rested it across her left wrist, held the cup out to the emperor in her left just above her right hand. This put the cup in the Emperor’s right hand so that he need only drink. Without looking at anyone he sipped and set the cup on the table, than reached for the napkin to wipe the nonexistent drip. Once he set the napkin on the table, Micha turned back to the High Priestess.
A second cup was readied and the High Priestess took her sip. Set the napkin over her cup and waited. A servant entered with a larger pot of tea and four cups. Each was poured and handed out.
Once again Micha waited until Ma’al sipped his before she even touched hers. When the fragrant brew hit her lips, she forgot why she was there and began to think about the possibilities; from the side eye she was getting from Malik he was thinking the same thing.
After a moment of enjoying wonderful way the tannins blended with the floral hints. Micha set her cup down; she set her hands in her lap and faced the Priestess.
“Since I was late, I must apologize,” Micha started to bow, but was cut off.
“The hunt,” intoned the Priestess. “Must be completed to honor the hunter and the prey.”
Right. Different tact than.
Micha nodded. “Your understanding is appreciated. How can this emperor’s blade serve you?”
“Our goddess Rihanon has given us the task of allying with Osirus. The empress, may she forever be ready to shed blood, informed me that now was that time to clasp arms in friendship.”
Got it. Suddenly word got out the Osirus had a new female alpha and a matriarchal society decided that it was a good time to forge an alliance with a growing power. Ma’al tapped the table twice.
“Then let us discuss the start of a new friendship.”
The yo-yo effect that happens every time politics reared its head was now in effect. Talks became a give and take of needs that were sometime foreign and others oddly familiar.
The people who served Rihanon called themselves servant of the Warress. Those who remained faithful had not expanded into newer methods of war, but that had not made them obsolete. On the contrary it had forced them to push their warriors further and faster than others. They had become demons on the battlefield. So, feared were they that they were being hunted by their own people.
Rihanon had promised them there was a place within the Osirus Empire for them. They agreed to serve the empire, fight to uphold its honor in exchange they will be given a place to worship their goddess of war. A place where they could worship and not have that faith taken from them
The treatise as far as Micha were understood were as followed:
- servants of the Warress remain in control of all matter pertaining to the temple, on temple grounds; Ma’al agreed, so long as those troubles did not spill over. Matters that came to the empire’s notice were to be dealt with by imperial law. The temple agreed.
- Servant of the Warress agree to serve the needs of the empire and uphold its honor and tenants; the temple agreed. Twelve days of the year may be dedicated to special occasions within the temple, servants of the Warress were to be give at least part of said days for worship and special festivities. The emperor agreed.
- The emperor agreed to accept the servants as people under his banner, subject to its laws, taxes and legal rights. The Temple agreed.
- The emperor agreed to build a temple near the palace, no further away than a day’s ride by horse, and to share the celebrations. He agreed to show for six of the twelve in person the other six his daughter was to attend. The Temple agreed.
- The emperor agreed that while under his banner the Servant of the Warress were not full citizen until the fourth generation was born within Osirus, but were accorded all rights and dues of a full citizen. The Temple agreed.
- Due to the war driven nature of the Servants of the Warress, oversite must be held by an agreed party. That oversite fell to Princess Kaltia, first daughter of the Osirus Empire and Alpha Micha Bailey. As oversite, final word was theirs, but must both agree in heart and mind. Any action debated must be delayed until decision was reached. The Temple agreed.
To be nice Micha had commented that if they were willing to train some of her pack and maybe some of the other packs, and she was able to find a dragon old enough to create an atmosphere she had three moons and two planet that were available for habitat.
With a sly grin Ma’al had announce the wondrousness of the offer and provided two dragons of sufficient age; one for the moon the Temple chose and the other to further Micha’s war pack. Both dragons were to belong to Micha so long as she lived. And wonder of wonders, the temple agreed. She knew better than to volunteer anything.
Micha had played the hammer and Ma’al saw fit to ensure that hammer was within reach of the main force at all times. That the battle hungry worshipers agreed was disconcerting. She refused to dig any deeper.
Having come prepared for a favorable outcome, the servants of the Warress and their ships followed the emperor’s ship back through the wormhole; were given direction to their new home and sent on their way. Micha sent a message informing Ni’yell of the incoming mess and promised to be there as soon as she was able.
Finally free of the role she had played, Micha gave herself a shake from head to toes. Feeling her muscles relax she turned to Ma’al and stook her head. His response was to laugh.
“Why did you ask for so much of the tea they served?” Ma’al wondered.
“A gesture of friendship,” Micha smiled. “I am making wine with the guardian commander.”
Ma’al looked intrigued. “Do tell.”
Micha put her hands on her hips and glowered.
“We can’t do anything about the duke’s situation until we get back to the palace. So,” Ma’al wiggled his brows. “In the meantime…”
Micha slumped into a chair across from Ma’al and closed her eyes. “It’s called blood wine. At the moment it does not have actual blood in it. Though Malik has heard there is an alchemist who makes actual blood wine, mainly for vampire clients so we have not completely written it off, yet. Its just dark and rich like blood. One recipe was as thick as blood and was probably one of my favorites.
“The issue is that once begun it has to sit untouched for two years, but the best results came after ten.”
“I’m in. It builds legitimate work for my citizens and with my connection,” Ma’al smiled predatorily. “I can get you killer deals.”
Micha laughed. He was incorrigible. “If Malik agrees.”
“Excellent,” he stated as though it were an already done deal.
“I’ll go fetch everyone,” Micha made to stand.
Ma’al waved her off. “That is what servants are for. They need to work to be paid.”
Micha held her hands up in surrender.
Malik was the first to arrive and after hearing Ma’al’s offer agreed to split the earnings three ways. Between the emperor and Malik, the new venture had one hundred brewers with nothing better to do and three master brewers; Ma’al knew a retired grandmaster that might come back to shepherd the new brewery.
The discussion of necessary supplies was well under way when the others began to trickle in. Ma’al agreed that growing some of what they needed on site was wise and was a great way to create more jobs and save in the long run. Ma’al suggested that Servants of the Warress for growing some of the crops. It was also lucky that the emperor had gifted Micha two dragons, because now she had a place to put the brewery.
Messages were sent and receive during the two weeks it took to reach the palace. In that time the business had been legalized, supplies to build purchased, brewers were hired and were already receiving manifests for supplies along with temporary buildings and warehouses to work in.
Runningwind caught word and immediate was on it like white on rice. Workers for the warehouses were purchased and the size of the design tripled after he called in favors. Micha had no doubts that the new brewery called Blood Ryte was in good hands.
At that moment Runningwind was clarifying the amount of the tea that was needed.
“The Temple agrees to wait the full ten years and will have a big festival and there after at ten year intervals.”
Micha groaned. “We don’t want to bleed them dry. I’m sure they need to grow the ingredients.”
“Malik tested a batch in the replicator and believes that at the size of the barrel no less than five pots of tea,” Runningwind added.
“Then why are you asking me?”
“You are my alpha. Why wouldn’t I ask you?”
Micha gave a half laugh. She walked into that. “I meant you have my full authority to act with impunity. If you know one barrel is a batch, the rest is determining how many batches. Make sure the barrels are not going to add flavor. That tea is enough with the rest of the recipe.”
‘Since the first festival is not likely to be the biggest, I advise fifteen percent more than planned for,” Runningwind shoved a furry face out of the screen. “The temple is asking for two hundred casks. One barrel does three. That’s.. sixty-fi…no sixty-seven barrels. That does not include the amout the emperor wants. He wants casks and bottles. Once it makes the rounds he believes there will be taverns wanting it too.”
“I think we need to be reasonable in what we sell and in the amounts we sell in. Our main sell should be casks, is there a size bigger than a cask?
“There is. It holds about half a barrel,” he double checked his figures.
“Go with that than. Bottles will be special items and not in every recipe. Barrels will be for taverns and large events.”
Runningwind made some notes. “Brewers are wanting to start.”
Micha laughed. “But of course they want to. It’s why they are there. An accountant will be needed just to manage the recipes and ages.”
“Three,” Runningwind stated.
“Dose that allow for full days off?”
Runningwind tapped his chin with the feather end. “for that you’ll want seven at least.”
“Do it, even if there isn’t much to do at the moment.”
“One more thing,” Runningwind looked serious. “What are your plans to ensure secrecy?”
“What…?” Micha blinked.
“I knew it,” Runningwind rolled his eyes. “There is a binding contract that ensures secrets of Blood Ryte stays that way. I will get it done before recipes are handed out. There are ways around it, but it will be better than nothing.”
“What does the emperor use?”
It was Runningwind’s turn to blink, confused.
“He is also a partner,” Micha shrugged. “So, what does he use?”
Runningwind gave his first cheshire grin.
Wing rider