“Answer me!”
“She didn’t care that I was Nethicaen when she saved my life!” he yelled in agony. “Should I have cared when I loved her?”
Crausin’s cynical laugh echoed in the cellar. “Love? When did you become so pathetic? You sound like the mewling lamb over there.”
Knowing there was no one but the two of them in the cellar, Comron stared at Crausin. His father’s eyes were completely glazed over with madness; Edred was in full sway and Crausin had withdrawn deep within, becoming the cowering lamb.
“But I know you too well, Comron,” he said, stalking around him. “The only thing that you love is power and fresh warm quinny to fuck.”
He walked around to face him. “All that Bastionli slut had to do was spread her legs and you betrayed everything you were to lay between them. Then you plotted to deceive us so you could continue your treasonous affair!” He drew his arm back to strike.
“What wouldn’t you have done to have Cristalla back, Edred?” Comron asked, angling to keep him talking. “What lengths would Crausin have gone to hold onto Meglyn?” He glared at Crausin. “I’m no different from either of you!”
The lash cracked across his legs, lacerating them.
“You were to be better than us! Not turn bloody traitor.” Crausin’s eyes danced with delirium as he drew close. “Thalonius is waiting to hear our plan as to how we intend to eliminate his problem. Where is the girl?”
Comron’s skin was already on fire, the acid burning and eating away at him. He glanced at the hideous devices on the table, knowing Crausin would use every one of them to pry the information from him.
He gasped at the fresh lash of the whip.
“The girl, Comron!” Crausin said and cocked his arm back to strike again. “Where is she?”
“Let me be the one to do it,” Comron said, trembling in his pain. “I will take care of it.”
Crausin stood before him peering deep within his eyes. Comron knew what he was searching for—any shred of evidence that Comron was speaking truth.
“Liar,” he hissed and unleashed another volley of savage lashes.
Comron twisted violently and groaned in his agonizing hell, feeling as if he were surrounded by broiling flames searing his body. And this was only the beginning of what Crausin planned to do.
“I thought there was a chance that …,” he cried out but his voice broke. He squeezed his eyes shut against the excruciating pain and tried desperately to shield his emotions from Crausin. “I-I was wrong. But I beg you, let me be the one to do it.”
An ugly laugh escaped Crausin. “What and give you the chance to betray me again?”
“I’ll take you to her and—”
“Where are you holding her?”
“I have to be the one!” Comron said, trembling under the strain of the torment. “I will take you there, but you have to let me be the one to kill her.” He couldn’t hide the onslaught of emotion, but he let it work to his advantage. “Let her die in my arms ….”
Crausin stood before him with whip ready to strike, but he let his arm drop to his side as he contemplated Comron’s request. Crausin’s green eyes were more focused now, the madness seemed to have abated along with Edred. Taking courage from this, Comron held his silence and let Crausin feel his profound grief at the prospect of losing Vaush. He wouldn’t let an ounce of hope surface.
“You will take us to the girl, and I’ll grant you your request,” Crausin said evenly as he walked over to the wooden table and dropped the acid-laden whip upon it. He picked up a wet towel and wiped the blood and sweat from his hands and brow. He glanced at Comron. “But first I must do something to extinguish any hope you had of being with her or ever betraying me this way again.”
The pain racking his body suddenly faded as Comron listened to Crausin and watched his hand move over the various torture devices. He had been wrong in thinking the worst was over … so very wrong.
“Your path is not yours to choose. I created you, Comron, for a purpose and you swore an oath to me and to Nethic in recognition of that fact. I’ve given you everything your heart desired: titles, estates, wealth, and more women than any man could bed in a lifetime. But still, you violated your oath and tried to deceive me in the worst possible way.” His hand came to rest over a large, razor sharp blade with an exquisite emerald handle. “I will take you to your woman to kill her, but first I will have a guarantee of your loyalty,” he said and grabbed the knife. “After all, how can you perform as her lover … if you have no cock?”
“Crausin!” Comron’s heart pounded wildly in his chest and he struggled madly against his restraints. “Don’t do this, please! I beg you!”
“You betrayed me and Nethic, and now you will pay the price for your treasonous insolence.”
“Forgive me, please. I’ll obey you in all things. I am yours to command!”
“LIAR!” he said as he came at him with the knife. “But I will have your loyalty by removing all temptation to defy me. You will serve the purpose for which I brought you into this world!” He raised the knife as he exposed Comron.
“No!!!” Comron hollered, turning away as Crausin started to bring the knife down. But the sound of hurried footsteps on the cellar stairs followed by a frantic voice interrupted the violent act.
“Sire!” General Straland said as he rushed in. “There is a vast Ti-Larosian attack force closing in on Nethic. Duke Bastionli is hailing you.” He looked on in bewilderment at Comron’s horrific state and exposed condition. “I-I made several attempts to reach you, Sire. The fleet consists of four galaxy-class warships, seven heavy planetary destroyers and at least seventy Targon single-combat fighters.”
Fury brewed in Crausin’s eyes and Comron braced himself for the assault that Straland had interrupted.
“Frithe’s blood! Look what your treachery has brought to our door,” Crausin growled. His hand tightened around the blade’s emerald hilt intent on finishing what he’d started.
“Sire,” the general said with more urgency as he pulled alongside the duke. “Bastionli will open fire unless you respond immediately.”
“Then open a damned channel!” Crausin said and glared at Comron. “Don’t go anywhere, eunuch.” He turned and raced up the cellar stairs while barking orders at General Straland.
If Comron hadn’t been securely strapped to the rafters, he would have collapsed from the trying ordeal. Even now, everything was rapidly spinning out of control. Larrs was in Nethicaen space searching for Vaush and threatening a full-scale war if they didn’t hand her over. She would be distraught at Ketherton Sound having no idea what kept him. After two days, she would leave and walk right into Thalonius’ murderous arms.
And there’s not a damned thing I can do about it!
CHAPTER 40
“It is merely a show of force,” Crausin replied, hiding his alarm as they hurried down the corridor toward the command center. When had Larrs discovered his daughter’s affair with Comron? To assemble such an enormous attack force, he had to have known at least a day before he learned of it. He hated feeling a step behind that infuriatingly despicable man.
“With all due respect, Sire,” Straland answered, “one does not assemble a force of that size and magnitude for mere saber rattling. Bastionli is loaded for bear and is blazing a path to our door.”
“Raise our defenses, assemble a counterstrike force,” Crausin ordered. Dear God, Comron what have you done to us?
“I can have full planetary shields raised in a quarter of an hour, all major cities in less.”
“I want it done in half that time,” Crausin commanded as the steel doors of the command center parted before them.
“Yes, Sire.”
The command center was alive with activity as the officers manned their posts speaking into their com units and reviewing the positions of their forces on the large holographic screens. Some of the officers glanced surreptitiously at their duke as if wondering if this weren’t some rather elaborate d
rill.
“Sire, I must reiterate that this is not proper protocol,” Straland said. “We need to move you and the royal family underground to Command Base One for your protection.”
“Northridge Castle is a fortress unto itself,” Crausin replied irritably. “I will remain here. Set up a private communication link in one of the conference rooms here.”
“But Sire.”
“Do as you’re told,” Crausin snapped. “Open a channel to the flagship. I will know the meaning of this dog’s impudence and gross disregard of inter-planetary law.”
Crausin had dreamed of a day when Nethic and Ti-Laros would face each other on the battlefield, but not like this, not under these ridiculous circumstances. It infuriated him that Nethicaen history would forever remember Comron as the traitor who instigated a war by crawling into bed with the Bastionlis.
He considered hauling Comron up from the cellar to face the calamity that he had wrought, but decided to leave him below so that he could focus his full attention on Larrs Bastionli.
General Straland informed him that the communication link had been established. Crausin watched as the large black screens that blinked to life displayed holographic images of the defense mechanisms erected all over the planet. The two screens at the center displayed the oncoming armada of Ti-Larosian warships.
Crausin’s chest heaved at the fearsome sight. But his pride was restored at the sight of the mighty Nethicaen fleet rising with its own impressive company of warships and world-class destroyers. Outnumbered two to one, it was enough to make Bastionli think twice about any rash moves.
“Sire, Bastionli is hailing you,” said Straland.
“Accept and provide visual,” Crausin replied, drawing himself up for the confrontation.
Instantly, Larrs Bastionli appeared upon the screen, plainly incensed and outraged. But it was Crausin who spoke first.
“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t blast you and your fleet straight to hell,” he said. “According to conventional inter-planetary law, I would be well within my rights to do so.”
“Where is she, you maggot-faced trout?” Larrs seethed, his dark eyes as piercing as daggers.
“Your wife? I sent her back home after she finished sucking me off,” Crausin gave the customary reply to such an insult.
“Look at your monitors, Van Laven,” Larrs fumed. “Do you think that I’m in the mood to be trifled with?”
“And you look at yours!” Crausin shot back. “Nothing would give me greater pleasure than to wipe your clan out of existence with the law fully on my side. You have five seconds to give me a good reason for violating Nethicaen space.”
“Since when does inter-planetary law defend kidnapping? I’m here for my daughter!”
Crausin scoffed convincingly. “What makes you think we’d pollute our land with Bastionli filth? Your daughter isn’t here.” Crausin was fairly certain that Comron had her off-world. “But according to the law, you have the right to search for her,” Crausin stated evenly. “You can scan the whole of Nethic, but you won’t find her here.”
“Then where is she? Tell me and this business will end as quickly as it began.”
Larrs’ legendary cool veneer was slipping and Crausin could hear the hint of fear in his voice. “How the hell should I know?”
“And since when did House Van Laven start falling on its knees so eager to lick Ti-Larosian slit?” It was Larrs’ turn to savor Crausin’s discomfort. “Granted, our women’s cream has always tasted better than wine, but damn … that boy of yours lapped it up like he’d never had anything so good.” His hawk-like eyes narrowed as the smile tugged at his lips. “Speaking of which, where is that freakish doppelganger of yours? I thought that you had him surgically attached at the hip.”
The color rose in Crausin’s face. “I am … dealing with him concerning recent events.” And when I’m through with him, his tongue will be the only thing he’ll have left with which to pleasure a woman.
“I don’t give a crag’s ass what you’re doing to him. Just give me back my daughter!”
Crausin leaned forward with his elbows on the table and his fingers steepled. “Poor, inept Larrs. All these years of meticulously plotting and scheming only to discover that in a single day you’ve been masterfully outmaneuvered by none other than House Van Laven.”
Larrs’ eye twitched as he glowered at Crausin. “Van Laven … still dwelling on that festering dung heap you call Nethic. It sickens me to be in your orbit, so foul is its stench. I’m giving you one last chance to hand the girl over, then I’m going to do to Nethic what Sellusion attempted to do three centuries ago—blast your world into oblivion. Let’s see you outmaneuver that … bitch!”
Crausin waved his hand dismissively at Larrs’ image. “See, now you’ve gone and bored me. If you think we have her, go ahead and scan for her. Meanwhile, I’m filing an official complaint with the imperial security council concerning this infraction.” His tone turned deadly, “So that when we blast you and your little shite-smeared fleet out of our skies, we’ll have full jurisdiction to do so.”
Larrs’ expression remained implacable. “Then you grant us clearance to launch derma-grade probes for the search?” he asked in an even tone.
Stalling for time to finish interrogating Comron, Crausin answered, “Launch your probes if you must, but know that you have one hour before we open fire on any unauthorized vessels in our orbit.”
“Agreed,” Larrs bit off the word before cutting the com link.
Crausin hurried out of the private conference room, ignoring the astonished looks on his officers’ faces at their stations. He would force the information from Comron and send Recaban’s men to kill Vaush before Larrs’ probes could finish their sweep.
He glanced up at the screens as he passed. The monitors zeroed in on the four orbs that shot out of the bow of the Ti-Larosian flagship. The diagnostic screen displayed the schematics revealing standard probes with no warheads or weapons attached.
General Straland quickly fell into step with Crausin while carrying a portable monitor. “Sire, it appears that he has launched Faren type II probes. Slightly odd configuration, but harmless enough.”
Just then, the screens flashed red and alarms began to sound. “What in the blazes,” Straland said as he read the schematics. His face was now ashen as he grabbed his com unit. “The probes!” he blurted out and hurried to a battle station. “Shoot them down! Shoot the bloody probes down!”
Crausin grabbed his arm. “What is it? What do you see?”
“EMP, Sire!”
“But there were no warheads on the probes!” Crausin replied.
“Our scanners were deceived,” Straland answered. “During your communication, Bastionli must have launched a virus that attacked our close-range scanners. We saw only what they wanted us to see.”
They turned to the monitors in time to witness a Nethicaen warship destroying two of the probes, while the other two detonated above the Nethicaen atmosphere sending gamma ray pulses through the air. Almost instantly, the electrical power grid failed, plunging them into darkness. But, within seconds, the secondary power sources that were shielded from such an attack brought the systems back on line.
The reports starting pouring in—those few seconds had given Ti-Laros all the time it needed to send in four Targon fighters to penetrate the Nethicaen force field and destroy the generators that powered the planetary shield array.
“They have taken down our shields, Sire,” Straland reported in an incredulous tone. “We’re completely vulnerable to their attack.”
The ground shuddered, punctuating Straland’s words, and bearing witness that the bombardment had begun.
“Assemble all of our forces!” Crausin barked. “A third of his fleet is no match against our full naval might.”
“General,” a young officer approached them. “Long-range sensors show another battalion of Bastionli warships en route to Nethic.”
“This was just the fir
st wave.” Straland dismissed the officer and his gaze fell upon the duke. “What’s this all about, Sire? I must know in order to formulate the proper battle strategy.”
“Do your job and defend Nethic. That’s all the strategy you need,” Crausin scowled as he headed toward the corridor. “Send some men to locate the queen and my sons. Take them below to Command Base One.”
“Where are you going?”
“I’m going to get Comron,” he said, “We’ll join you at the base.”
CHAPTER 41
Just one more hit, damn it! Comron thought as one arm dangled precariously, the rafter having been cracked under the bombardment. Feeling faint from loss of blood and the poison acid, he marshalled his strength and pulled with all his might to wrench the rafter completely free.
“Arrg!” he groaned aloud and then heard the loud craaack of the rafter coming loose and crashing to the floor. The place rocked and shuddered again sending a spray of dirt and grime raining down upon him. He dragged the heavy wooden rafter over to the tools scattered on the floor from the overturned table. He grabbed one of the sharp spikes and proceeded to pick himself free of the wrist and ankle restraints.
Still shaken by the ordeal and covered in blood and grime, he rose unsteadily on his good leg and spotted his clothes folded in a chair. Gingerly he pulled the shirt over his mangled flesh and slipped into his trousers. Another blast sent him crashing into the wall as more of the rafters came down. Quickly, he made his way across the fallen debris toward the stairs.
The door above flew open and the light nearly blinded him. Voices shouted in confusion as someone hurried down the stairs. Comron crouched low to the ground and picked up a heavy piece of wood that had broken off from the rafters. Adrenalin coursed through his body, priming him for the attack.
“Look what you’ve done to us! I should kill you for this!” Crausin screamed as he and another guard reached the bottom of the stairs. “Where’d you hide the filthy bitch? Where—”