Sebastian of Mars

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Authors: Al Sarrantonio

Tags: #mars, #war, #kings, #martians, #kingdoms, #cat people, #cat warriors

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Sebastian of
Mars

Book II in the Masters of Mars Trilogy

By Al
Sarrantonio

Smashwords Edition published at Smashwords by
Crossroad Press

Copyright 2011 Al Sarrantonio

Cover design by David Dodd / Copy-Edited by
Patricia Lee Macomber

Cover art courtesy of:
http://dandzialf.deviantart.com/

 

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ALSO FROM AL
SARRANTONIO & CROSSROAD PRESS

Novels:

Moonbane

Skeletons

October

West Texas

Kitt Peak

The Boy With Penny Eyes

House Haunted

Collections:

Toybox

Halloween & Other
Seasons

 

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To my sister, Mary
Jo

 

One

I
t’s not easy being
a sickly kit. Especially when those around you are so strong. I
watch my sister Amy at play, the way she leaps and runs and cuts at
her playmates with her wooden sword, and I feel inadequate and left
out.

I am left out anyway, of course, being King
of Mars.

Or at least I will be, on the day of my fifth
birthday.

The very thought of Regent Parum turns my
stomach.

Some of the other grownups I like. I greatly
look forward to Uncle Newton’s visits, since he always brings me
such interesting toys.

Most of all I miss not having parents. Amy
doesn’t seem to mind as much, and I’m told she takes after our
father, Kerl of Olympia. I’m told by Newton and others, especially
the fat cook Brenda, that I am more like my mother: thoughtful and
taken to flights of dreaming. My mother was very deep, I am told,
and I miss her terribly, even though I never knew her. One of Amy’s
friends, the evil Charlotte, told me in one of her snits that Amy
and I were in the same room when my mother was murdered, on the
very day of her coronation. This is a horrible thought, and I was
successful in having Charlotte banished for a short time from the
royal grounds. But her father, Senator Misst, is an important
person and my ban did not last. In fact, at Xarr’s urging, I was
forced to apologize to Charlotte in front of her father, a stern
shriveled old man with a wizened face and sharp distrustful eyes.
It was for the good of the realm, I was told. While I was doing it
I felt a burning anger within me that almost came out – later I
discussed this with my teacher and guardian, Thomas, who
laughed.

“You have just taken your first bitter pill,”
he said, eyeing me with amusement.

“The funny thing is,” I answered, “that while
I was doing it I wanted to scream that this was not right, while at
the same time I understood somewhere in the back of my mind why it
had to be done.”

He continued to look bemused, and I asked him
why.

He answered: “You have had your very first
lesson as a king, and you taught it to yourself!”

I suddenly felt very proud of myself, and
strutted around for the rest of the day practicing bestowing
favors, even if no one took me seriously. I even pardoned Charlotte
from the death sentence I had, in my imagination, condemned her to.
But, as usual, she had the last laugh, pulling a wire she had
strung taut across a hallway as I passed in my faux royal robes
(made of quilted bedding) and tripping me up.

“A fine fall for a king!” she shouted,
laughing as she ran away. The bruise I ended up with landed me in
bed for the rest of the day.

It was Thomas, as usual, who tried to explain
things to me, pulling a stool up close to my bedside.

“You must realize, Sebastian, that you are
different from the other kits. In more ways than one. There is your
lineage that separates you from the rest, of course, but there is
also the matter of your . . .”

He hesitated, pointing to my bandaged leg,
resting on two pillows atop the coverlet I had lately used for
raiment.

“My frailty?” I finished for him.

He reddened slightly with embarrassment, his
whiskers twitching. “Your body is frail, but your mind certainly is
not. And who knows, with your coming adolescence your body may
catch up to your mind.”

I nodded. “Then, for now at least, I will
have to beat them with my mind, instead of my body.”

“It is not as simple as that,” he said. “You
must realize that frailness of body will be taken as weakness, in
and of itself. Already Regent Parum has moved before the Assembly
that your ascendency to the throne be postponed until such time
that you prove your . . . what he calls ‘heartiness.’”

“Then I will challenge him in the
assembly.”

“It is not so easy, Sebastian. Parum has
allies in both the senate and the hall, some of them very
powerful.”

“The law states very clearly that I will be
crowned on my fifth birthday. And that is only a few weeks
away.”

“You must understand that the law is not made
of stone. It is a fluid thing. Your mother made it that way to
better serve the people.”

I smiled slightly. “My mother was very wise.
So you are talking of the clause, ‘unfit to rule.’”

“Exactly.”

“And Parum will use it against me.”

He edged his stool closer, and lowered his
voice. “Very likely.”

“Do you fear that we will be overheard?” I
said in a loud whisper.

“There is that possibility. Parum has become
very secretive lately, and I have heard that there are spies who
have sworn allegiance to him–”

“This alone is treason!” I shouted.

Thomas’s eyes widened in alarm. When this
happened the streak of light short black fur which crowned his
forehead disappeared altogether, which was usually a cause for
mirth. But not today.

“Lower your voice, Sebastian!” he hissed.

“I will not! And I don’t care who hears me!
There is nothing in the law that allows the regent this kind of
power!”

“Perhaps not. But it is something that must
be dealt with.”

“If he denies me the throne, he hordes all
power for himself.”

Thomas moved his stool even closer. He was
nearly whispering in my ear, now. It was then I noticed that from
his eyes, and the faint odor of terror he exuded, that he was very
afraid.

“Sebastian,” he said, lowering his voice even
more, to a mere whisper, “you must listen to me. This may cost me
my life. But as I swore allegiance to your protection, so too did I
swear allegiance to your ascension to the throne. There have been
plots within plots building for some time, ever since the trouble
in the east began. There are those who say that Parum has not done
enough in your name to quell this trouble. There are others who say
he has done too much. And then, as always, there are those who do
nothing. They are the most dangerous of all. In your mother’s time
they caused, through their inaction and stupidity, the downfall of
the first republic. They may soon cause the destruction of the
second.”

Some of this I knew, or had deduced through
my own observation or deduction. But to have it placed so baldly in
front of me frankly frightened me. I knew there was growing trouble
in my empire, but I had no idea it was so pervasive or imminent. My
war games had been daydreams, my form of play since I couldn’t
wield a wooden sword like my sister.

“Is it that bad?” I whispered.

“Worse. The trouble to the east has been
intensifying. Parum keeps most of it out of the media but he cannot
prevent whispers. It is said that Frane’rar has resurfaced.”

A chill went through me. “This is impossible.
She is dead.”

He shook his head slowly. Now he did whisper
into my ear. “Parum falsified her death. That was not her body that
was displayed last year, but that of another F’rar. General Xarr
had tests done on the body before it was cremated. Only a few know,
and until now it was better for the public good that it wasn’t
common knowledge. Soon, I’m afraid, everyone on Mars will
know.”

I turned my gaze on him, and hoped it looked
as steely as I meant it to be. I had practiced this hard, regal
look many times in my mirror, when alone.

“Then I must take the throne
immediately.”

He drew back. “That is impossible!”

“Anything but. It is only four weeks until I
am five. In an emergency the coronation can be performed at any
time after my fourth birthday. I do know the law, Thomas.”

I watched the stunned look on his face, which
had lost all color. But I saw that he was staring through me, at
the door to my chambers.

I turned, wincing with pain at the twist in
my ankle, and saw Thomas’s page, a young feline named Fotrel,
standing in the doorway.

“Fotrel, come in!” I said, trying to sound
hearty. “Join our discussion, and then we can play a game of Jakra
after Thomas is gone!”

“I’m sorry, my lord, but I must speak with
Thomas alone.”

“Nonsense! What you say to him you say to me
– that is an order!”

He bowed, which made me instantly regret my
harshness. He turned slightly toward Thomas as he rose.

“There is an emergency Council meeting,”
Fotrel said. “Newton has arrived from the west.”

“I will attend immediately,” Thomas said.

“As will I,” I said, hoping my voice sounded
as firm as I wanted it to.

Both of them turned to stare at me.

“Sebastian –” Thomas began.

I quieted him with my stare.

Thomas looked at Fotrel. “Advise the Council
immediately.”

Fotrel, still looking pained, nodded and
turned away.

To me, Thomas hissed in fierce whisper,
“Attend, Sebastian, but do
not
open your mouth.”

I had often dreamed of the Council Chamber. I
had even snuck into it, once, when I was barely a year old, and
barely able to stand on two feet instead of four. It was rarely
unlocked, but that day a meeting held in my name (as they all were)
had just concluded and the servants were late in arriving to clean
up. On all fours, I had stealthily crept into the room. I had only
just begun to explore when I was lifted bodily and found myself
face to face with the scarred warrior, General Xarr.

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