“I can think of nothing more fitting,” he replied.
“That and my supreme happiness with a Van Laven at my side.”
He beamed with equal joy at the prospect. “Your happiness reflects my own.”
She eyed him for a moment, obviously pleased with the look of him. “How is it that you’ve never been in love before? There must have been hundreds of women pouring all over you.”
He frowned at the turn in conversation. “I don’t want to discuss that, I only want to talk about us.”
“Come now, were you just being sweet when you said I was the first time you’ve ever been in love?”
He sighed with resignation. “No, I was being honest.”
She laughed. “Of all those gorgeous women on your arm throughout the years, you never fell for one of them?”
He shook his head.
“Comron, how is that possible?”
“I’ve never spent enough time with any one particular woman sufficiently to develop profound feelings for her.” He didn’t wish to frighten her by revealing that Crausin forbade him anything more than one or two nights with the same woman and that was the primary explanation for the apparent revolving door of beautiful women in his life.
“Why not? Because you knew you were to be betrothed, and it would only complicate matters?”
He hesitated and then nodded. “Complications were to be avoided at all costs.”
“But it didn’t stop you from bedding them, did it?” She asked with a faux judgmental glare.
His gut tightened with apprehension. He’d promised her honesty …. “No, it did not.”
“How many women were there?”
“How many?” he asked incredulously. “You’re the only woman that I’ll be with for the rest of my life. What good can come of these questions?”
“That many, huh?”
His jaw clenched. What was prompting this interrogation? Was she simply bored and itching for an argument? He had to turn the tone of the discussion.
“I don’t remember the exact number of women I’ve bedded, but ask me how many women I’ve made love to.”
She rolled her eyes. “How many women have you made love to?”
“Only one, dear wife,” he said letting his eyes linger upon her. “Believe me, there is no comparison to the sublime pleasure and spirituality of true lovemaking. I am ruined for anything less.” He watched a generous smile spread across her lips, and he mentally patted himself on the back for his quick thinking.
They rode along in silence for the next few minutes, serene and secure in their unbreakable bond. Comron grew more confident that whatever lay ahead in Monteras they’d face it together and then—
“Have you ever shared a woman with Crausin?”
He nearly hit the floor brakes and his faced burned with mortification. “What? Where is this coming from?” How had the thing that had for so long been a pleasurable routine for him now become a cause of shame and disgrace?
“Larrs mentioned it over dinner the night before I left for our rendezvous on Patheis. He said the two of you shared Spira … regularly. At the time, I thought it was simply Larrs spewing more vile lies about you. Was he?”
Yes! He wanted to say to erase the painful look of repugnance from her face. The truth would be too much for her delicate sensibilities. But he’d promised her the truth, and she’d promised not to punish him for his honesty.
“Vaush, before I met you, there were a great number of things that I did that I’m suddenly too ashamed to admit. Back then, I believed I was always going to be denied my heart’s desire because of my duty and obligations, so I acted rather … badly to say the least, to try to fill the void. The thing with Spira and the other women, it was just another game I played, nothing more.”
Her face turned with revulsion. “But she was your fiancé, the future mother of your children! And the two of you satisfied your lust on her like she was some common whore.”
“It was her idea!” he replied. “She insisted upon Crausin’s presence, she loved having us both at the same time.”
Vaush sat aghast. “What?”
He closed his eyes a moment. “She was in love with Crausin, not me. They’d been lovers since before our engagement. I only discovered it on the night of our betrothal party.”
Vaush looked as if she’d be sick. “And you were still going to marry her despite this?”
“My duke commanded it. Nethic required their assets.”
She turned away and stared out the window. “I don’t know whether to pity you or punch you for being so cynical about the whole thing. How could a father do this to his son, force him to marry his mistress and share her in bed?”
“Can we please not talk about this anymore,” he said testily. “It has nothing to do with us.”
“Our past defines and shapes us, Comron.”
“To an extent, yes. But if I’ve learned anything over these last few weeks, it’s that love has the power to triumph over all the horrible atrocities from our past and make us act in ways we never imagined we would.” He turned to her. “For pity’s sake, Van Laven learned to love a Bastionli. How’s that for overcoming one’s past?”
Still brooding, she tried to hide the smile teetering on her lips. “Well … technically, I’m not Bastionli by—”
“Irrelevant since I fully believed you were Bastionli when I fell hopelessly … desperately … and passionately in love with you.”
And there it was, that full, sensual smile that he felt down to his very core. “Well, as long as you keep your lurid past buried deep in the past, I will let this go.”
“It’s dead and buried. I pray you never bring it up again.”
She cast him a rather dubious look then turned her attention to the landscape. “So what exactly is the game plan once we reach Monteras?”
Grateful for the change of subject, he didn’t hesitate to respond. “Nacum told me that Monteras is a trading outpost with travelers from abroad which means a ready supply of transportation.”
“So we’re hoping some off-worlder will be willing to part with his transport for the right price?”
“Someone will part with their vessel, one way or the other,” he said rather coolly.
“You’d steal one?”
“If that’s what it requires.” He looked at her. “Unless you’d like to spend the winter hiding out in Nacum’s hut.”
“I wouldn’t dream of imposing any further on their generous hospitality,” she said, ignoring his barb. “But how do we find this person?”
“There’s a tavern in the center of town where the locals like to gather and the merchant travelers go to unwind. I’ll find someone there and make an offer that’ll be difficult to ignore.”
“You’re not afraid you’ll draw unwarranted attention?” she asked. “What if Recaban’s spy network is already there?”
“More likely Recaban’s men. I’ll be careful not to draw too much attention. In fact, that’s why I plan to go alone, they’ll be looking for a couple of our description.”
“True, but I don’t like the idea of you going in there alone,” she said in worrisome tone. “What if something happened to you?”
He grinned. “I can take care of myself just fine.”
“And where am I supposed to be during the negotiations?”
“We’ll find a place to hide the motor sled, and you’ll remain within it, hidden out of sight until I return.”
She nodded though her expression was grim. “With what will you negotiate? The minute you access your bank accounts your father will be immediately alerted and learn our location.”
“I’ve a few unregistered accounts in reserve for just such a situation.”
“But won’t that tip the buyer? You might as well announce that you’re buying the transport with stolen funds. No one will sell to you then.”
It both pleased and astounded Comron that Vaush possessed a measure of naiveté, believing so staunchly in the innate vir
tue of humanity and that this town couldn’t possibly be filled with cutthroat merchants who’d just as soon shoot you as look at you. Wave enough credits under their noses and they’d not only sell you their ship, they’d throw in their sainted mother for good measure.
“You let me worry about that, love.”
CHAPTER 54
Vaush glanced at her wrist chronometer. Comron had been gone for nearly an hour trying to discreetly acquire an interplanetary transport ship. Nacum had provided Comron with some native garb to help him blend in with the weary drabness of Monteras’ working-class.
Before he left, Vaush had clung fiercely to him, too afraid to let him go. But with his usual confident air, he told her not to worry and that he would return before she knew it. He’d left her with a rifle and brief instructions on how to operate the sled in case of an emergency.
She looked over her shoulder at the large storage area in the back of the vehicle. More junk and clutter filled the space. There was another seat bench bolted to the floor amidst the garbage. My lovely throne, she thought, how appropriate.
She looked at her chronometer once more before lifting her eyes to the horizon, and was alarmed to see two figures in the distance. Immediately, she discerned that neither was Comron.
They’ve found us!
Her heart thumped loudly in her ears. Comron should’ve returned by now. Had he been captured? With no means of communication, she was at a total loss. Remembering Comron’s instructions, she fired the engine. She shifted the gear and the motor-sled started to roll away, but the engines stalled and shut off.
“No, come on,” she exclaimed. She tried the ignition again and again to no avail. “Don’t do this to me. Come on!”
Vaush hazarded another look out the window. The figures were running toward her and had closed half the distance. An awful dread enveloped her. They would be upon her within minutes. The engine still refused to cooperate.
“Damn it!” She considered abandoning the vehicle, but knew they’d capture her instantly, moving at those speeds.
She slapped the door lock mechanism and then snatched the assault rifle off the floor. Hopping over the front seats, she hid behind the second bench in the back of the motor sled. After one minute passed, her nerves forced her to take one more look out the window.
Their faces were at the glass looking in.
Vaush gasped and stumbled backward, trembling as she removed the safety and applied her finger to the trigger. She nearly jumped out of her skin at the loud thump, thump on the door.
“Honored Lady of Ti-Laros, we wish to speak with you.”
Vaush gripped the rifle tighter and aimed. She would let it do all of her talking.
The stranger’s voice was vaguely feminine, though Vaush had difficulty placing the unusual accent.
“Please, Your Highness. There is not much time.”
She wondered at their cordial tone and why they hadn’t simply forced their entry. Holding her silence, Vaush waited.
“Forgive us, Honored One, but you leave us no choice.”
Honored One? Was that sarcasm? Vaush braced herself for the worst. But there was only silence. Slowly, she rose and was shocked to find the two standing in the cabin, their heads bent under the low ceiling. A quick glance at the doors told her they’d not been forced. Furthermore, the intruders carried no weapons. Nevertheless, she kept her weapon trained on them, carefully eyeing the two tall, hooded figures.
“We mean you no harm,” said one, holding out empty hands.
Though she sensed no falsehood, she kept her weapon trained.
“We have a message for you, Supreme Princess, Vaush Hrollaugr,” the woman said in her strange accent.
“A message from whom?” she demanded. Were they mocking her with the exalted titles?
“Our message is from the Murkudahl Consortium,” the stranger announced. In unison, they slipped back their hoods, revealing their identity.
The Murkudahl!
Visibly agog, Vaush stared unabashedly at their angular faces with dark, almond-shaped eyes, their pale blue skin, narrow noses, and pinched mouths. Her attention was instantly drawn to the shock of fiery red hair flowing down their backs. Their slender frames stood over two meters tall, but the speaker was of a slightly smaller stature.
“I am H’Teysa Chaiyse of Wiskelle.” She made a gesture, moving her hand up from her waist to her brow and bowed, then turned to her partner. “And this is H’Teysa Bhedrus of Wiskelle.” He greeted Vaush in a similar manner. Though Vaush had no idea as to their rank or social standing, she had the distinct sense that she was in the presence of Murkudahl nobility.
Instinctively, Vaush imitated their gesture and said, “I am deeply honored by your visit. To what do I owe this privilege?”
The speaker blinked her eyes and tilted her head as if listening to something. Vaush recalled an article on the Murkudahl physiology in which it was strongly asserted that the Murkudahl communicated telepathically. Her eyes darted between the two of them, looking for further signs of telepathic communication.
“The Murkudahl know that you, Vaush Hrollaugr, are the legitimate heir to the throne of the Sellusion Empire. We are also aware of your convictions surrounding the protection of our people.”
“It pleases me that you know this,” Vaush said, relieved that they knew she didn’t share the desire of those who sought to exploit the Murkudahl.
“You are of great interest to the Murkudahl, Your Grace. We have been observing you all of your life. Bhedrus and I have been assigned to physically follow you, since your time on Patheis.”
“Since Patheis … you were there?” Vaush said in surprise. “You were the hooded figures Comron glimpsed that morning.”
They both nodded.
“He’ll be glad to know it wasn’t his mind playing tricks on him.” Vaush chuckled and cocked her head to the side. “A little help with the crogodans would’ve been nice.”
“We were under strict orders from our brethren to remain out of sight until now,” Chaiyse explained. “Yet we managed, in our own small ways, to keep you alive.”
“So that I may become empress and enforce the edict.”
“Yes.”
Vaush sighed. “I wish it were that simple. The politics surrounding my enthronement are rather complicated. To be frank, none of the powers that be want me on the throne.” She gestured at her surroundings. “Why do you think I’m hiding out here, in this contraption, in the middle of a frozen tundra?”
“We fully understand your circumstances. However, it is against our most fundamental tenets to take up arms and engage in any manner of warfare. Therefore, we cannot offer our assistance in that way. Our purpose here is to deliver a warning and a gift.”
“A warning?” Vaush asked, not caring for the sound of that.
The speaker gestured at the seat next to Vaush. “Please be seated, Your Highness. We have much to share with you.”
Apprehensive, and yet eager to learn more, Vaush sat down on the bench and the Murkudahl cleared a spot on the floor before her and seated themselves.
“All life in your system is in grave danger of being annihilated or subjugated into abject slavery.”
This was completely unexpected. Vaush had been anticipating a lecture on the evils of exploitation and warmongering.
“By whom?” she inquired.
“By the Murkudahl.”
“Pardon me,” Vaush said respectfully, “but you just said that the Murkudahl are pacifists.”
“Yes, we, the Murkudahl Kait are pacifist, but our brethren, the Murkudahl Karukii are a different matter altogether.”
Vaush’s brows pinched together. “I wasn’t aware there was such a distinction between the Murkudahl people.”
“There is much about our race that you do not know. It is our desire to educate you and help you understand why you must prevent further exploitation of our people by all means necessary, once you are enthroned.”
“It would please me grea
tly to learn more about you,” she glanced out the window, “and it appears that I have the time.”
“Good, then let us begin.” Chaiyse turned to Bhedrus who handed her a small box. “This is the Elpanf,” she announced, opening the box to reveal a creature that looked for all the world like a tiny white centipede. “It is indigenous to our home world—a pet, if you will.”
Vaush grimaced. “Oh.”
“The Elpanf facilitates communications between telepaths and mouth speakers.”
“A translator of sorts?”
“I suppose that is an adequate enough description.” Chaiyse came and knelt before Vaush. “Through direct contact, the Elpanf has the ability to stimulate the pineal gland deep within the brain, enabling a mouth speaker to receive the thoughts of a telepath.”
Vaush withdrew. “By direct contact? You mean it just needs to touch me?”
“The Elpanf must have direct contact with your brain.” Seeing the distressed look upon her face, Chaiyse added, “Through verbal communication alone, you will not fully comprehend the import of our message. You must see and feel our message.”
Vaush hesitated and Chaiyse gave a slight smile. “It is not painful and it is only a temporary condition.”
Vaush had always prided herself on being open to new experiences and broadening her cultural horizons, but this truly stretched the boundaries. “How?” She pointed at the Elpanf. “How does it get into my brain?”
Chaiyse tapped her nose. “Through the nostril.”
Wide-eyed, Vaush replied, “Surely, you’re not serious.”
Chaiyse only blinked in response.
“Is this really necessary?” She looked at Bhedrus, who nodded at her. She sighed. “Very well.” She squeezed her eyes shut. “I’m ready.” In a moment, Vaush felt a tickle on her lip, then the strangest sensation in her nose, causing her to suppress the urge to sneeze. But in a matter of seconds, she felt nothing.
She opened her eyes. “How do you know when it’s there?”
“The Elpanf will tell us when it is ready,” Chaiyse replied gracefully, moving back to her seat. “Try to relax,” she said in a soothing tone. “Breathe deeply and relax.”