The Queen's Prophecy

Chapter Two

Chapter Two

She was not dead.


She knew that much.  If she were dead, she wouldn’t feel so miserable.  If she were dead, there would be no pain, right?


There was a knife in her skull. 


There had to be.  Nothing less than that could possibly cause as much pain as she felt in that moment.  “Excruciating” was not enough to describe it.


Her pain was so distracting that she almost didn’t notice the low whispers and soft thuds of someone typing on an old-fashioned digital notepad, but the feel of a warm blanket being spread over her confirmed her suspicion that she was not in the watery grave that she was expecting.


Afraid that any bright lights might intensify the pain in her head, she slowly opened her eyes.  She was surprised to find a soft, filtered blue light filling the space around her and the wide bed she was lying on.


The large room was crowded with dozens of human looking life forms.  Some were obviously medical personnel, but others were dressed much more formally, and none of them had yet noticed that she was awake.


Still very aware of her headache, she eased herself up on her elbows.  It throbbed a little, but wasn’t as debilitating as she was expecting, so she sat upright in the bed.


She glanced around and saw that the blue light was coming from a bank of tall windows covered in a sheer fabric on one wall.  The other walls were covered in what looked like a smooth steel paneling and adorned with holographic images of different strange landscapes. There was a set of solid, black double doors at one end of the room and a single matching door at the other end.  And aside from the large metal-framed bed she was on and a small silver table there was no other furniture in the room.


“Milady, you mustn’t try to move,” a deep masculine voice said.


As if something spectacular had happened in the bed, every set of wide eyes in the room turned toward her.  Cam was not usually self-conscious or shy, but she suddenly felt the urge to pull the blankets over her head to shield their stares.


“Milady?” the same voice said. “How are you feeling?”


“Fine.” Her voice was hoarse and raspy.  She turned to see the man that belonged to the voice bent over the edge of the bed, his eyes closely examining her face.  He was tall and pale with dark brown hair and eyes.  He was dressed in a white jumpsuit with a royal blue jacket and skullcap.


“Are you experiencing any dizziness?” He asked pulling a small penlight from the pocket of his jacket and shining it in her eyes one at a time.


“No,” she replied.  “Just a headache.”


“I expected as much.  You must have hit your head pretty hard during the impact.  You’ve been unconscious for four days.”


It hadn’t been a dream.  She really had crashed on a strange planet.  Still, she hadn’t been eaten yet, so that was good news.


The bad news was that she had been out for four days.  That was definitely long enough to be missed.  Actually, it wasn’t her that would have been missed as much as the cargo she had been carrying.  Her employer, Prator, would surely be wanting to know just where his shipment had disappeared to.


Cam needed to get to her cruiser, assess the damage, and get word to Prator that she—and the cargo—would soon be on her way to make the delivery.


“Do you know your name?”


She nodded and immediately regretted the action when white-hot fire shot across the top of her head.  “Cametta D’lorna.” She said, pressing a hand onto her head, trying, unsuccessfully to quash the pain.


A wave of whispers erupted among the onlookers and Cam could make out some of them repeating her name with an odd sense of wonder.


She ignored the strange spectacle and returned her attention to the man still examining her with the penlight.  “Where am I?” she asked.


“Alothia.  In the ninth galaxy.”


Cam mentally reviewed the countless star charts that she had committed to memory.  She could not remember ever seeing or hearing of a planet called Alothia.  Of course, the ninth galaxy was still almost entirely unexplored so it was possible that primitive civilizations that had not yet traveled beyond their own planets could exist out here without the rest of the universe knowing about them.  This must be one of them.  It was just her luck to be stranded on a planet without the technology to fix her ship.


“I noticed that you had a cochlear translator implanted,” he said. “I took the liberty of modifying it by uploading several Alothian dialects.”


“Thanks.”  Perhaps they weren’t as primitive as she had thought.


“It was my pleasure, Milady.  I am Robias, the royal physician.”


“Nice to meet you.”  Her voice sounded discourteously bland at the greeting she gave to the man that was probably responsible for saving her life, she thought.  She could have at least faked a little enthusiasm.  Perhaps if her head wasn’t hurting so badly, she might have. 


“And who are they?”  She asked with a painful nod toward the crowd gaping at her from the foot of her bed.  “And why do you keep calling me ‘Milady’?”


“The king would like nothing less, Milady,” he explained very matter-of-factly, “and this is the King’s Counsel.”


“Right.”  She decided not to question the matter further as she really wasn’t interested in anything besides getting back on her way.  “My ship?  Is it completely destroyed?”


He shook his head.  “I’m afraid that my expertise is limited to the living and as such I must insist that you rest now and worry about your spacecraft later.”


“Really, I feel fine,” she insisted, swinging her feet over the side of the bed. “And I have to be going.”


The physician made a move to restrain her, but there really wasn’t any need because Cam had frozen when the sound of the doors bursting open echoed through the room.


The crowd in the room parted and Cam could clearly see a huge man with a fierce frown on his face stalk into the room flanked by two other equally menacing looking men.


He was taller than the other men by almost a head.  His dark hair was cut short but the stubble that covered his jaw and chin gave him an unkempt appearance.  His sheer size was enough to intimidate the most fearless of warriors but it was his silver eyes, almost glowing in contrast to his darkened skin, which caused her breath to catch in her throat.


She waited as she watched the silver eyes roam from her face down to her feet and back up again.  His face showed no sign of betraying any emotions that he might be feeling.  In fact, he appeared completely indifferent as he finished sizing her up.


“She’s awake.”  The man’s voice boomed, not intentionally, she realized, just that his voice was deep and powerful.


Robias, the physician, nodded.  “She is, your majesty.”


He was royalty.  That made sense.  The other people in the room had all yielded to him as he entered and the lowered their faces as he passed.  She remembered Robias introducing himself as ‘the royal physician’—though she didn’t understand why he would be attending to her if that were the case.  The man even looked more powerful than the others.


“Have you asked her name?” The man asked.


“I have, Sire.  Her name is Cametta D’lorna.”


“And, is she well?” 


“She is,” Robias answered. “She has a slight head injury and I would prefer her to rest, but she insists that she feels quite well and would like to be on her way.”


“Is that so?”


Another wave of whispers spread amongst the crowd, but this time they seemed shocked or possibly insulted.


“Yes, it’s so.”  Cam interjected.  She was slightly annoyed that this man whom seemed so interested in her well being hadn’t bothered to speak directly to her yet.  “I’m the picture of perfect health, except for a slight headache.  I really would like to be on my way.”


The men and women in the room again reacted to her statement with gasps and surprised expressions.  Some shook their heads either in disbelief or protest, she wasn’t sure which.  The man, however, raised his eyebrows and she thought she saw a flicker of a smile but it was gone before she could be sure.


“Really,” she continued, ignoring the onlookers and directing her attention to the man in the center of the crowd—as he was obviously in charge around here.  “I don’t want to be any more trouble than I’ve already been.  I’m sorry for any inconvenience I’ve caused and thank you for your hospitality, but I must get back.  Are you who I should talk to about my ship?” 


“Your ship,” he began “or what’s left of it, is in a hanger located at my space port.”


She cringed.  This didn’t sound good.  He had said ‘what’s left of it’.  She watched as the scene before her started to shift and angle to one side.  She had almost lost her footing entirely before she realized that she was the one swaying.  She clutched the side of the bed to steady herself with one hand while the other automatically lifted to her dizzy head.


“Milady!”  The physician had grabbed her arm and pushed her down onto the bed before Cam had been able to refocus her eyes.  “Milady, you must sit.”


Seated on the edge of the bed, Cam took several deep breaths and attempted to blow the searing pain from her head away.    She glanced around once she felt more in control of her own body and immediately noticed that everyone in the room seemed poised to reach out to her if she needed any kind of help at all.  Everyone except the giant in the middle.


While the anxious crowd released their held breath, he watched her through narrowed eyes and made no such show of concern.  Instead he turned his vicious stare to the physician.


“You said she was well,” he roared.  His thunderous accusation sent another wave of pain shooting across the top of her head.


“She is well, Sire,” an anxious Robias spluttered.  “But I’ve tried to explain to her that she has received a serious blow to the head and must rest.”


“I’m fine,” Cam insisted, despite the fact that the room was still spinning.


He man’s eyes shot back to her and his frown deepened.  “Yes, the picture of health,” he repeated with thick sarcasm.


If she hadn’t been afraid that the action would increase her headache, she would have rolled her eyes.  Who in the hell was this guy?  Why were all these people staring at her?  Where in the universe had she landed?


“You heard Robias,” the man suddenly boomed, attracting the attention and immediate action of everyone in the room.  “The queen needs rest.  Leave us.”


Queen?  What queen?


She watched the crowd begin to file out through the double doors.  Everyone except the giant, the two men standing on either side of him and the doctor had gone while she contemplated the title he had used.  Queen.  Was he talking about her?


“Who did you say needed rest?”  She asked him.


“You do.”


“But you said ‘the queen’.”


“Yes,” he replied.


She waited for the rest of his reply but it never came.  She rubbed her hands over her face.  Maybe she had hit her head harder than she originally thought.  Was she supposed to understand this?


“What in the universe is going on?”  She asked no one in particular.


His exasperated sigh was apparently his answer.


It was Robias that finally showed her some mercy and spoke to her.  “Milady. We have long been waiting for you.” 


“Waiting for me?”


“Yes, the prophecy told of your coming to Alothia centuries ago.”


“Prophecy?”


“The Queen’s Prophecy,” he specified.  His expression morphed from concern to blatant excitement and he clapped his hands together.  “Oh, but you have come now.  I never imagined that I would see the day that the prophecy would come to pass, but here you are.  You’ve come to save us.”


“Save you?”


“Yes, of course.” 


She thought that he might be trying to reassure her of something, but she still had no idea what he was talking about.


“The wedding will be the grandest Alothia has seen in centuries.”  Robias exclaimed.


“Wedding?”


“To the king.”


“The king?”


“That would be me,” the giant blandly inserted with a roll of his silver eyes.


“You?”


The king frowned at her.  “Why do you keep repeating everything that’s said?  Is your translator dysfunctional?”


“I certainly hope so,” she cried.  “You want me to marry you?”


“You are the prophesized queen.”  Robias stated incredulously.


“I am not prophesized,” she stated in the firmest voice could muster with the pain in her head.  “And I am not a queen.”


“Well not yet,” Robias agreed.  “You will be when you marry King Dakkan.”  He made a sweeping gesture toward the man still standing in the middle of the room.


“No,” she said.  “No, this is a mistake.  I’m not who you think I am.  I’m from Earth.  I’m just a cruiser pilot that’s had an accident.  I can’t marry King What’s-his-name.”


“Dakkan,” The king reminded her.


“Whatever.  I don’t care if your name is Romeo, I’m still not going to marry you.”


King Dakkan’s expression appeared as if he wanted to accept her refusal.  He glanced at the men to his sides and then seemed annoyed at their knowing grins and assuring nods.  After a heavy sigh and a roll of his eyes, he finally looked back to her.


“I realize that you are confused,” he said.  His voice was softer than before but still gruff.  “I’m sure with time you will better understand and accept your new lot in life.”


Cam realized that he was attempting to soothe her but was failing miserably.  She couldn’t be soothed.  She wanted to get the hell out of here.  The only thing that would placate her was to be taken to her cruiser.


Loosing her cool wouldn’t get her very far, though.  She needed to think and recollect her thoughts that had been scattered in this stressful situation. So far she only knew three things.


Right now, she was on an uncharted planet—the last place any rescue teams from Earth would ever look for her, even if they could find it.  And it didn’t sound like her cruiser was in very good shape.


Second, her boss, Prator, was not a good man.  He was greedy, ruthless, and unethical.  It was his questionable business practices that had landed her in his employment in the first place and she knew that he was capable of terrible things.


She had been missing in action for four days.  Long enough for Prator to assume that she had run and taken his merchandise with her.  She would be safe enough for the time being as long as she was stranded on an unknown alien planet, but Prator would hunt down her brother, Peyton, to pay for her mistake. And then he would come looking for her.


And last, her departure from this planet had become even more difficult than just a damaged ship.  She wasn’t simply a castaway to the people of this planet.  They believed that she was the subject of some prophecy.  A prophecy that would have her married to their king.


Cam tried a more optimistic approach to her sad situation but didn’t get very far.  There was nothing that she could find that seemed very promising.  Maybe King Romeo would listen to reason.


“Look,” she said.  “I’m not really ‘queen’ material.”


“No,” the king agreed.  “But you will be.  I will see that you are trained properly to your duties. You will do fine.  You are the prophesized queen after all.”


“But that’s just it.  I’m not.  There’s been a mistake.  I’m not supposed to be here.  I was supposed to be in the Varctin Sector.”


“The Varctin Sector?”


“Yes.  I had a delivery to make there and it was expected three days ago.”


He frowned at her but it was not the furious sneer that she had already gotten used to, but a more confused appearance.  “How in the universe did you manage to get out here if you were headed to the Varctin Sector?” he asked.


“The wormhole.”


“What wormhole.”


“I don’t know.  It wasn’t on any of my charts.  It picked me up in the fourth galaxy and dumped me on the outskirts of this system.”


King Dakkan swung around and faced his men.  “Send a scout team,” he ordered.  “If a wormhole has opened up, we need to know about it.  The last thing we need is for scum from the Varctin Sector oozing into our neck of the woods.”


The two men nodded and turned on their heels to leave.  Dakkan watched them go before turning back to her.  “You,” he addressed her.  “Can you stand up without falling over?”


“Of course I can.”  She really wasn’t sure that she could, but the pain in her head had begun to subside so it was possible.


“Then I will take you to your ship now.”


“Um, Sire?”  Robias interjected.


“I know, I know.  She needs rest,” Dakkan said.  “But I don’t think she’s going to shut up about her ship until she’s seen it.”  His eyes shifted to her. “I’ll have her back in bed in an hour.”


Cam defensively crossed her arms over her breast.  There was something suggestive in his tone and she was suddenly very uncomfortable.


“Yes, of course, your majesty,” Robias said.  “But perhaps we should allow your bride to dress for her outing.”


Cam looked down and examined the paper like medical gown she was wearing.  Had she realized that it was nearly transparent she would have stayed in the bed with the blanket pulled up to her chin.


She felt it.  His cold stare was also observing her scant apparel and she didn’t need to look at him to know it.  She looked anyway and felt her fury flush across her cheeks when she saw that irritating half-smile on his face.


“Can I have my clothes?” She nearly shouted.


Dakkan’s eyes lifted to her face and his smile faded.  Rather than answering her he simply stalked across the room and disappeared through the only other door in the room.  Who was this guy?


Cam looked at Robias, exasperated.  Robias gave her a reassuring nod and the guided her to the doorway.  Through the door she could see another room.  It was smaller than the bedroom, but still had plenty of leg- room.  There were no windows and was scarcely furnished with just a silver vanity and a blue, cushioned stool but the floor was covered in a plush blue carpet, several shades deeper than the stool cushion.  Along the far wall of the room the steel paneling had been replaced with floor to ceiling mirrors and on the adjacent wall were three more black doors.


Dakkan appeared in the middle door holding a wad of yellow fabric.  He had to duck his head as he passed through the doorway.  He glanced at her and then tossed the fabric in her direction where she caught it with a thud against her chest.


“Put that on,” he told her. “It should fit you.”


Cam examined the material and tried to untangle the mess.  Her horror began to build with each fold she was able to untwist.  He had given her a long flowing gown made out of a silk-like material, not the pants and shirt that she had been wearing the last time she remembered.  “Where are my clothes?”


“Gone.”


“Gone where?”


“Gone,” he reiterated with finality.


She looked at the gown in her hand.  “I don’t wear dresses.”


“You will on Alothia,” he told her.  “Nothing else would be appropriate for an Alothian woman, much less the queen.”


“I am not an Alothian woman or a queen.”


“You will be both once we are married. And you will wear a gown.  Now, please dress yourself.  I have other more important things to do today.” And with that he turned to walk to out to the room.


“Sure thing, King Chauvinist.” She said just loud enough for him to hear her.


His stride faltered and he turned his head just far enough for her to see the same infuriating smile creep onto his lips, but he continued his exit pausing only to shuffle the doctor out with him.


Cam turned to the tall, mirrored wall and held the dress up to her chin.  She admitted that it was probably a gorgeous gown.  On someone that was feminine and beautiful it was probably exquisite, but it wasn’t her style at all.  She was more of a cargo pants and tank top kind of girl. 


She slipped out of the paper gown and pulled the yellow dress over her head, letting the hem fall to the floor around her feet.  She examined herself.  It had a low cut bodice that hugged her waist in all the right places before it flowed like a silk waterfall to the floor in eloquent ripples.  The color was all wrong.  Yellow made her already pale skin look almost paper white and she thought it clashed with her short dark hair.


She frowned at the woman in the mirror.  Something didn’t look right.  She was too plain and ordinary looking to be wearing a gown so extravagant. She ran her fingers through her hair and tried to tame some of the tangles that had accumulated during her four days in bed but gave up quickly when the pain kicked in again.


She found some white slippers on the floor of the closet that Dakkan had retrieved the dress from and put them on before she took one last look in the mirror, let out a disgusted grunt, and opened the door of the dressing room.