Chapter 2:
Fugitives
Pirua (September) 29, 1538
Same Day
Tarpon Estate, City of Kalmata
“I’ll wear it,” said Lady Nera Tarpon. She gently eased the distasteful band from her husband’s clenched fists.
“You shouldn’t have to wear it,” Brook Tarpon declared. “You’ve done nothing wrong.” He looked like he wanted to punch his brother.
“Please calm down. This isn’t going to help us,” Nera said, adjusting her position so she stood between the brothers. She slipped her right hand through the metal loop she had taken from her husband and flinched when it snapped snugly into place midway up her forearm. An unnatural coolness from the band caused her heartbeats to quicken. Two small dots of light blinked yellow, transmitting her reaction to the Target Tracker-65 unit linked to her band.
“It won’t be for long,” Alden Tarpon offered. He sounded guilty, but his fingers were sure as they tapped commands into the TT-65. The yellow lights stopped their frantic flashing.
Nera turned and nodded to her husband’s younger brother, smiling to ease his discomfort with the assignment. She could easily imagine how awkward he must feel guarding her while men hunted his sister.
Oh, Gareth, be gentle when you find them, Nera silently begged her brother.
“It’s already too long,” Brook complained.
Nera turned back to her husband, reached out, and patted his right arm.
“I’m all right,” she assured him. She let her hand rest on his arm briefly before sliding it down to his clenched fist.
“Nothing’s right. Nothing’s been right since Merisia left. Why would she leave?” Brook’s words rushed out. “She knew what this alliance means for our families.”
“We don’t know the whole story. My brother isn’t always the easiest man to get along with.” Nera curled her hand around Brook’s fist.
“What do you mean? Would he hurt her?” A protective glare lit up Brook’s green eyes.
“I don’t know,” Nera answered honestly. “I don’t think so. Gareth is volatile sometimes, but he’s fiercely loyal.” She left off that her brother was loyal to those he loved. She honestly didn’t know where he stood with his wife.
Why would Merisia leave him?
***
Pirua (September) 29, 1538
Same Day
Gareth’s and Ariman’s Camp, Felmon Desert
“You’re going to break your gun if you keep holding it that tightly,” said Ariman Keldor to his companion.
The younger man, Gareth Restler, stared through the sniper’s scope and pulled the trigger several times. Each pull produced an empty click.
“What would her face look like if I killed him?” Gareth said, clicking the trigger twice more.
The question brought up a mental image of Merisia Restler. Ariman had been the first to spot their camp and gaze upon the fugitives. The young man’s wife retained her beauty despite the strain of fear. Her black hair possessed a gray tint thanks to the desert dust, but her purple eyes still had a determined glint to them. Ariman had purposefully unloaded the gun so they would never have to find out Merisia’s reaction to Taly’s death. Gareth seemed like a level-headed man, but Ariman didn’t want to take the chance with his son’s life.
“Keldor, I’m going to beat your son until he breaks,” Gareth promised.
“I doubt he has useful information, but Lord … Maledek wants him alive,” Keldor reminded. “I’m half-inclined to beat him myself. This is killing his mother.”
“It’s quite simple,” Gareth said, his voice tight with anger. “Your son ran away with my wife. Tomorrow we’re going to catch them. I will beat him to my satisfaction before handing him over to Maledek’s agents.”
Ariman listened without comment to Gareth’s threats. Things didn’t look good for Taly and Lady Restler. He rubbed a hand down his face, trying to focus. He had almost let Gareth know Maledek’s real name. Such a mistake would have been unforgivable. The slip would have forced him to kill Gareth, and Lord Kezem and the Lady still needed the Restler-Tarpon Alliance.
“We should rest now,” Keldor suggested. “Everything’s set in Terab.” He stifled a yawn. “I’ll take the first watch.”
Gareth had shown remarkable restraint so far, but Keldor did not wish to test him too much. It took about ten minutes to convince Gareth to cease his morbid vigil and sleep.
Twenty minutes into his watch, Keldor picked up the sniper rifle and sighted on his son and Lady Restler. They were too far away to hear, but they seemed to be arguing. Drawing on many years’ experience, Keldor read their body language.
Several minutes later, he finally learned something useful.
He considered waking Gareth but decided against it. There was no telling how the man would react to such news.
***
Pirua (September) 29, 1538
Same Day
Merisia’s and Taly’s Camp, Felmon Desert
“What’s wrong, Merisia?” asked Talyon Keldor. He hated having to ask, especially since he knew it would have been easier to list the few things favoring them.
Tomorrow morning, they would reach Terab and the safe anonymity of its masses. Their food and water supplies, though tight, would carry them through. They even had a friend willing to hide them for a few days. Everything else fell under the “wrong” category.
Merisia Restler pierced Taly with a long, mournful look that spoke volumes, but she said nothing.
Taly despised that look. She had leveled it at him more than once during their six-week journey, but its frequency seemed to be increasing. This was the fourth time today. The look combined apology, guilt, and heart-wrenching sadness. Taly knew she didn’t mean to hurt him, but he caught her sentiments anyway.
I’m sorry I got you into this mess, very sorry. The corner of Taly’s lips twitched in a weak smile. Great, just great, now I’m even thinking like Merisia.
“We’re almost there. We’ll be safe once we reach Terab,” Taly encouraged.
“Thank you, Taly. Thank you for staying.”
“Where else would I go? I’m a wanted man.” He meant it in jest but saw that his words wounded Merisia. “It’s not your fault,” he added quickly.
“It is my fault,” Merisia said. “It most definitely is, but thank you all the same. I can always count on you to be there. I know I can, which is why I have a favor to ask you, a big favor.”
“Anything,” Taly said instantly. The look on Merisia’s face gave him a sudden chill. He mentally cringed at the hasty promise. “You know I’m with you until the end of this.”
She nodded and smiled weakly.
“I know, Taly, I know. You’re not going to like my request, not one bit, but please hear me out.”
Taly braced as best he could, but Merisia’s next words still ripped through him.
“If—when they catch us … I want you to kill me.” Tears sprang to Merisia’s eyes and flowed down her cheeks. “Please, promise to kill me.”
Taly scrambled off his bedroll, rushed to Merisia, and hugged her.
“I can’t do that,” Taly whispered.
Merisia allowed the embrace but stiffened at his refusal. Several awkward beats passed before she relaxed in his arms. Then, she pulled away and gripped his upper arms with desperate strength.
“It’s got to be this way, my friend, got to,” said Merisia. “I won’t go back, I won’t! They can’t use my child against me or my husband, never the child.”
“They won’t,” Taly promised. “Once we reach Terab, the crowds alone will—”
A bitter laugh cut off Taly’s protest. Merisia squeezed his arms once more before releasing him. Another tear worked its way down her left cheek.
“You’re not blind, but you can be stubbornly stupid when you want to be. I know you saw the pursuers we picked up two hours before the moons rose.”
“I saw them,” Taly admitted. “But what makes you think they’re after us?”
“We’re not exactly the desert’s swiftest travelers. We’re not swift at all. They stopped when we did with an hour of good travel time left in the sun. Anybody else would have passed us.”
Taly silently cursed. He had hoped to avoid worrying her with those observations. He adjusted his position on her bedroll, content to offer her physical comfort instead of the promise she sought.
***
Pirua (September) 30, 1538
Deegan Estate, City of Terab
Dread opened a chasm in Talyon Keldor’s stomach a split-second before a pair of blue stun beams flew at him. Without thinking, he shoved Merisia to the ground and dropped to his knees beside her, trying to shield her. His kerlak pistol, set to high stun, dropped their hostess before she could utter a sound.
Merisia screamed and tucked her knees to her chest, trying to protect her abdomen.
Anger and fear fueled Taly. He scrambled in front of Merisia and unleashed a sheet of blue beams at their attackers. Most of his shots slammed harmlessly into the walls and ceiling but one connected with a kerlak rifle. The resulting yelp brought a smile to Taly’s face as he basked in his blind luck. His knees burned, but he ignored them. His kerlak pistol emitted a buzzing whine that said the battery pack was almost depleted. He squeezed off one more shot then fumbled to grab a spare pack from his belt.
“Duck, Taly, duck!” shouted Merisia. From the sound of it, she had managed to crawl to the only meager protection in the room.
Trusting her, Taly flattened himself on the ground, landing awkwardly on his pistol. It dug painfully into his chest. A blue energy beam flew over his right shoulder and blackened a spot in front of him. He blinked, forgetting the chest pain. Part of him understood the beam had come from behind. He doubted the shot had come from Merisia. Despite his best efforts, she remained the lousiest shot—besides his mother—with twice the hatred for all weapons.
Taly rolled onto his back. More beams crisscrossed over his head, but he ignored them. He suddenly understood why his father had demanded he practice loading and unloading serlak and kerlak guns repeatedly. Putting those skills to good use, Taly snatched a new battery pack off his belt, ejected the old pack, and clipped the new one in place. Then, he adjusted the gun to semi-automatic fire so he wouldn’t immediately drain the new pack.
Rolling twice then scrambling ungracefully brought him to the lone couch in the room. Unintelligible curses crowded his head at their lousy position. He had one entrance in front of him, one next to him, and one behind him. The ambush had been perfectly planned. Even if Merisia was a crack shot, they would have been hard-pressed to cover three entrances.
Sound crashed over Taly’s senses. Merisia’s weeping provided an odd counterpoint to the men’s shouts and the sound of heavy boots pounding the ground.
Taly threw the pistol to his left hand and reached for Merisia with his right. She clutched his hand unable to speak, but her eyes pleaded her case again. Taly locked eyes with her for the briefest second. Her desperation struck him like a physical blow. He shook his head once.
The shouts and boots were closer now. Dark forms rushed toward them.
Merisia dropped his hand.
Taly shot the first three RT Alliance soldiers to enter the room before a stun beam struck his left hand. Another beam hit the back of his right shoulder as he spun with the first blow. A third slammed into the space between his shoulder blades, driving him forward and relieving him of consciousness.
Chapter 3:
The Gift
Pirua (September) 30, 1538
One Day after the Coronation
Royal Gardens, City of Rammon
Queen Reia Minstel lifted her face toward the sun, closed her eyes, and tried to dispel the sadness clinging to her like a cloak. Part of her felt she had no right to be sad.
Things were finally settling down. The isolated protests in Azhel and Idonia had ended peacefully. The previous day’s coronation and Terosh’s first address had gone wonderfully well. The Senate and Governors Council had finally finished wording the appropriate pieces of legislation confirming her husband as Reshner’s undisputed king.
Everything was right, yet she still felt lost and lonely.
She could handle isolation. Much of her Ranger training had her trekking through the Riden Mountains in search of healing herbs. But she had a husband now and wished to see him more than once or twice a week. His duties often pulled them away from each other, but she took the pain in stride.
She could handle danger. The last year of traveling the Kireshana trail with Terosh had proven quite the learning experience. Together, they had weathered windstorms, graveground, and korvers. Surely those were comparable to wild senators and stormy governors.
Unknown expectations scared her beyond speech.
What is my role as queen?
Terosh had mentioned something about training with his former tutors, but the last few weeks had passed too quickly to spare thought for educating her in royal matters. She had suffered through one fitting and hair styling session after another, so the seamstresses and tailors could create a wardrobe fit for a queen.
Now that Reia could think, the full meaning of recent events started to coalesce in her mind. Terosh had told the people she was a Ranger and a healer, but the former title no longer fit. It had defined her for so long, yet the Ranger High Council had stripped her rank and cast her out of the Order because she defied them by marrying a royal.
Lost in thought, Reia failed to sense the breach in her solitude.
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