Reshner's Royal Ranger

by Julie C. Gilbert

  Master Corida stared into empty space, and Master Niklos brushed dust from his banistick.

  “What happened to Ranger Celdin?” Reia finally asked.

  “James was trying to get a tretling out of a canyon when the korver pack that had trapped the creature returned,” explained Master Niklos. “He beat them back, but one of the beasts got its mouth around his lower left leg. Broke it in two places.”

  “Can I see it?” Reia blushed. “I mean, is Ranger Celdin okay?”

  “Yes, to both questions but later to the first.” Master Niklos grinned, cleared his throat, and looked at Master Corida.

  “Prince Terosh Minstel will begin the Kireshana in a month. We’d like you to shadow him.” Master Corida’s body language betrayed doubts, but he added, “There will be several others watching over him during specific parts of the Kireshana. He will also be traveling with a squad of Royal Guards, but he should still have a guardian.”

  “Why me?” Reia wondered.

  “You’ve traveled the Riden Mountains extensively, and you know the healing arts. That is important for any journey, especially this one since the prince is a tempting target,” Master Niklos explained. “The Ashatans have agreed to make this your level-seven trial.”

  Reia’s breath caught.

  I’ve been level-six for only a few hours!

  “Thank you, masters. I am honored you think I’m ready.”

  “Do you doubt yourself?” Master Corida asked sharply.

  Reia considered saying something to convince them she could handle the task. However, when she met her master’s cool gray ones she settled on honesty.

  “I do not doubt my skills, but my lack of experience makes me cautious,” she said.

  “That is why you are ready,” said Master Niklos.

  Chapter 5:

  A New Maledek

  LANOLIN (FEBRUARY) 15, 1538

  Forty-four days after the formation of the RT Alliance

  Asrien Sea, Below Dark Man’s Bluff

  Go to Idonia.

  Dalonos stirred. His eyes met only darkness. As the anotechs healed him over the last few weeks, they had steadily drawn his body away from the surface. For a while he’d tried to cling to his former identity as Dr. Atien Belcross, but they insisted he become Dalonos.

  Famished as usual, he closed his eyes and reached out with his new senses. Pinpoints of sensation alerted him to the nearby sea creatures. The anotechs could shuttle nutrients through his skin, but eating remained the most efficient way to gain sustenance. Usually, they let him play with the food, but today, a dozen jintals lined up to be eaten. The first time Dalonos had consumed jintals they had ripped his throat raw, but since then, they had become his favorite food. The painful scrape of their writhing spines was a fair trade for the delicious, spicy juices they contained.

  After the quick meal, he tested his limbs, expecting them to be stiff with disuse. To his surprise, his limbs responded with supple grace he had never possessed before. Swimming with all his might, he shot toward the surface, scattering a school of multicolored fish.

  Not so fast! The pressure change could break you.

  He slowed then stopped altogether.

  Don’t you have a way to counter pressure changes?

  It was half-inquiry and half-taunt. The scientist in him loved discovering new powers, but resentment remained over how little he controlled his own life. He brooded while waiting for the anotechs to slowly raise him safely to the surface.

  Breaking the water’s surface and breathing air again was the second most painful experience he’d ever had—the first being the initial acclimation to water. He had mercifully passed out the first time, but this time, his body was better equipped to handle pain. Millions of cells changed to handle the new environment. Dalonos suffocated and came to life again. Violent coughs jerked his body. Gritty sand pressed against him as cold waves crashed over him.

  Clothes. You need clothes. We needed the others for repairs.

  He finished coughing and frowned.

  How did I forget that?

  We deleted the memory, as we did with other superfluous thoughts.

  The answer chilled him. Dalonos used the surge of burning energy that came with the anger to scramble up the imposing cliff face. Part of him relished each pain the rocks dealt him as he climbed. The cuts healed almost as soon as they formed.

  This isn’t natural.

  This is better. Now get to the top. We have brought you an Azhel priest.

  “Why?” Dalonos asked, earning a stabbing sensation in his head. Tiny lights danced behind his closed eyes as he endured the pain. When it receded, he finished climbing the cliff.

  Focus! You need clothes.

  Dalonos giggled, then sobbed.

  “I don’t even know—” He cut himself off and suddenly knew what they expected of him. His breath rushed out in a whoosh that ended in a curse.

  You can’t be serious.

  A girl appeared before him.

  “This is part of your training.”

  Dalonos shook his head, trying to make the vision go away, and blushed deeply.

  “Your modesty is wasted on me, but it is preserved nonetheless.”

  Her statement drew his gaze downward where he noticed a skirt composed of seaweed, sand, shells, and other debris. Its slight weight seemed disproportionate to the materials.

  “It is not a fashion fit for the public,” the girl noted, “but it should suffice to let you concentrate on important matters.”

  “Who are you?” he croaked.

  The girl’s skin shimmered with brilliant blue-white light, causing Dalonos to blink.

  “I wear the form of the Maker’s Daughter, but I do not exist here and now.” To prove it, the girl collapsed into a pile of pale dust that swirled in the breeze yet remained intact. Then, just as quickly, the girl reformed from the feet up. “If you asked the right questions, you would know everything. I am your guide to this new life. Call me Jalna.” The girl using the identity of the Maker’s Daughter turned and ran a few steps, pausing to beckon him forward.

  Speech eluded him. His legs carried him onward despite his desire to disobey.

  “Stop resisting. It is tiresome.”

  “This is madness. I’m a scientist! I study life!”

  “You were a scientist. You are us now. Your heart is capable of the deed.”

  His legs carried him toward the victim who struggled against unresponsive legs. Dalonos imagined his expression mirrored that worn by the priest whose eyes pleaded for his life. He thought about leaping from the cliff to avoid his fate, but suddenly, there was a shift within his mind.

  “Kill him.”

  The girl vanished.

  The pain disappeared.

  A wave of strength cleared away every doubt.

  Dalonos needed clothes to enter Idonia and speak with the governor. The priest’s robes would open many doors. Leaving the man bound near the Ash Plains would be cruel. Killing him solved both problems. Dalonos slowly approached the man. A dozen ways to kill him sprang to mind, but he rejected most as too messy.

  Break his neck. Strangle him. Suffocate him.

  His hands twitched, agreeing with the suggestions.

  The priest whimpered. Dalonos sensed the anotechs making breathing such a chore that the man could concentrate on nothing else.

  Can you stop his heart?

  We can, but you must do this deed to earn our aid.

  The unseen hands holding the priest suddenly released him. The man sank to his knees and gulped in air.

  Dalonos walked calmly over to the man, wrapped both hands around his neck, and squeezed until the life left his eyes.

  The trip into Idonia was uneventful. Once he engaged the hov’s autopilot, Dalonos concentrated on which arguments to raise with the governor. Getting to the Governor General’s Estate was simple enough, but getting an appointment proved much harder. Dalonos had to practically strangle the servant to get him to deliver the messa
ge.

  Finally, the servant ushered him into a private office.

  “You look good for someone dead more than a month, Dr. Belcross,” Lord Kezem commented. The flash in his eyes, said he wanted to kill him for not delivering the baby as promised. “You’ll be happy to know that an ambitious Tarpon youth completed your task.”

  The business with Deanna and her daughter seemed a distant memory. Dalonos couldn’t be bothered with such trivialities now.

  “I am Belcross no more. You don’t trust me, and I don’t trust you. But we can help each other.”

  “What shall I call you? And if there’s no trust, why should I help you or accept your aid?”

  “Call me Dalonos. Let me become that which you pretend to be. Let me become Maledek.” Dalonos deepened his voice.

  Lord Kezem’s expression indicated surprise.

  The anotechs flooded Dalonos with the knowledge of an unspoken question and an appropriate answer.

  “I know you are Maledek because your mother, Lady Mavis, suggested you create a villain to distract the Royal House. It is working, but slowly. I can help.”

  “Why do you wish to become Maledek?” Kezem asked.

  “The Dark Ones wish it,” Dalonos replied. “Let Maledek create chaos. Then rise as a hero to rescue the people.”

  “I see how this benefits me, but how does this help you? An ally with nothing to gain is dangerous.” Kezem frowned and his hands moved toward his weapons.

  “Trouble comes. The Galactic Alliance of Populated Planets is expanding. This is our home. We will defend her. Reshner must have a strong leader soon. You must be king if you wish to save the planet from GAPP slavery.”

  After a long stare, Lord Kezem nodded that Dalonos’s proposal made sense.

  “So be it.”

  Chapter 6:

  The Prince’s Plans and the Assassin

  LANOLIN (FEBRUARY) 28, 1538

  Fifty-seven days after the formation of the RT Alliance

  Rammon, Capital of Reshner

  Across the street and one floor above the level where Prince Taytron secretly met his spy, Kolknir carefully lined up the shot. It would have been easy to say the shadows caused him to hit the wrong target. He nursed the fantasy, letting the crosshairs rest between Prince Taytron’s eyes. Only professional pride stilled his trigger finger.

  “Maledek will rule.”

  Kolknir dared not utter Lord Kezem’s name aloud. He would accept control of the armed forces once Kezem took his rightful place as king.

  Lord Kezem’s mother, Lady Mavis Altran, Kolknir’s true employer had vowed to destroy the House Minstel, but the Crown Prince’s untimely death would not bring her plans to fruition. He found it amusing that he knew so much about the plots and subplots spinning about the princes and the palace.

  Does Lord Kezem know of the Lady’s plans? He knows more than the Ranger High Council that’s for sure. The Lady has them dancing to her tune. Fools, all of them, except perhaps Lucas Telon.

  Putting the silenced serlak rifle aside, Kolknir took out his night vision goggles and flipped a switch that let him see through the building. He activated the electronic bugs that would let him hear Prince Taytron’s conversation with the spy.

  “All is ready, my Prince,” said the spy. “Your brother’s journey should be swift and uneventful.”

  “Do not let him repeat my mistake.” The prince’s order sounded heavy with grief.

  “Yes, my Prince. It will be done.”

  “Riden walk with you,” Prince Taytron murmured.

  A minute later, Kolknir spotted the prince’s spy exiting the apartment building’s back door and disappear. Kolknir cursed silently, even as he saluted the kid for not being easy to kill. Soon, Kolknir had his rifle strapped to his back. Swinging his legs over the windowsill, he slid down a pipe three floors to the ground, landing near a storm drain access point.

  Popping the hatch, Kolknir leapt in and landed in ten centimeters of dirty water. He froze, waiting for the faint splash to settle. Then, he found the access hatch’s control panel and keyed in a short sequence to temporarily seal the hatch.

  The solution to the noise problem came to him quickly. After a few experimental sliding steps, he returned to the ladder and strapped his rifle case to a rung about chest height. The weapon would hinder him in these tight spaces, and he didn’t want to lose it. Once the rifle was safe, Kolknir eased forward so his movements displaced water without splashing. At first glance the stone walls seemed devoid of character, but Kolknir spotted faint marks that helped him follow his target.

  Glow panels every few meters provided enough light to avoid colliding with the walls. The storm drain dipped and turned, keeping the water flowing throughout the city. Control panels every few blocks allowed water to be funneled wherever one needed it.

  Kolknir considered flushing his victim into a holding tank where he could finish the job, but he dismissed the idea because it would alert Water Management to his presence.

  When his left boot brushed something soft yet unyielding, Kolknir threw himself into a forward roll. Gravel dug into his hands as cold water drenched him. Releasing his throwing daggers from the forearm sheaths, Kolknir whirled. The assailant hesitated, allowing Kolknir to step close.

  A quick slash with his left dagger grazed the assailant’s neck but a knee to Kolknir’s stomach evened the score. He leapt back and regarded the other man. The soldier’s body lay between them, but Kolknir doubted they served the same master.

  Two kill orders? Not possible.

  As Kolknir concluded the assailant was an enemy, the man attacked. Ducking and dodging, Kolknir let the man spend energy on wild swings. The cramped storm drain limited the assailant’s movements, yet his strikes held considerable power. A hand came at Kolknir’s neck. He raised an arm to block and leaned back, throwing himself off balance. His gamble worked.

  Both daggers flew true.

  The first lodged in the assailant’s right hand and the second slid into the soft flesh of his throat.

  LANOLIN (FEBRUARY) 28, 1538

  Same Day

  Maledek’s Private Retreat, City of Idonia

  “The assassin has returned, my Lord,” reported the servant.

  “Send him in,” Lord Kezem Altran ordered. He rose and snatched the Maledek mask off the corner of his desk. Donning the mask and turning to face the back wall, which displayed a stunning view of the misty Ash Mountains, Kezem clasped his hands behind his back and waited. Despite allowing Belcross to play Maledek, Kezem found the persona useful when dealing with people he couldn’t meet as Governor of Idonia.

  “As you wish,” said the servant, backing out quickly.

  A heartbeat passed, then two. Kezem silently counted the ten seconds it would take the assassin to cross from the doorway to the desk.

  “It is done, my Lord,” said the assassin.

  “Your payment and new orders are on the desk.”

  “Thank you, but you should know there was another assassin on the same job. I don’t know whom he served, but he is dead.”

  “Interesting. You may go.”

  Once the Ranger left, Kezem waited for his mother to comment. He wanted to hear her thoughts on the second assassin. Despite his best efforts, she always found a way to install new spy equipment into his private lairs. Kezem hoped his mother’s spies would confirm the assassin had done a thorough job. Finding reliable help was becoming more difficult every year.

  “I cannot tell if you are brave or mad,” Lady Mavis Altran spoke through the wall-mounted holoprojector. “In any case, you should never turn your back on Kolknir ... or me.”

  Facing her, Kezem smiled.

  “I am far too useful to have cause to worry, Mother.”

  “Pray it stays so, my dear.”

  “What can you tell me about this assassin and news of a second one?”

  His mother’s hologram shrugged.

  “Kolknir is technically still a Ranger, but his training methods effectiv
ely ended his career. The Council stripped him of his rank to appease those claiming his methods were cruel. He was a mercenary until I changed his fortunes. I believe the second assassin was an RT Alliance man. You should keep an eye on them. Your pet project could quickly get out of control. Regardless, you should consider the proposal I’m sending over.” With that last bit of advice, she disappeared.

  Kezem weighed her words.

  She is no longer useful.

  A thrill climbed up his spine. Plans laid long ago would finally be enacted. Feeling the gravity of the moment, Kezem reached into a breast pocket, pulled out his comm, and typed in the kill order.

  As he finished, his comm chimed to let him know a message waited for his attention. Although tempted to delete his mother’s proposal without looking at it, common sense prevailed.

  “What last plan does her devious mind hold?”

  Chapter 7:

  Kireshana Intrigue

  JIRA (MARCH) 1, 1538

  Sixty days after the formation of the RT Alliance

  Streets of Rammon, Capital of Reshner

  Lucas Telon seethed as he settled into position overlooking the crowded streets. While he had a quiet moment, he pondered everything that had brought him here. His ego smarted from the inability to bond with the anotechs and Reia’s refusal to marry him. Recalling her expression, he tried to decipher her uncertainty and fear.

  “I cannot marry you, Lucas.” Her gorgeous green eyes had shimmered with tears as she spoke.

  “You can and you will.” He’d tried to draw her into a comforting embrace. He would have kissed her inviting lips if he hadn’t needed to talk sense into her. “You’re simply scared, that’s all. I can fix that.”

  The small, fearful step Reia had taken backward might as well have been a canyon.

  “I’m scared how fixable you think people are!”

  “Why does she fear me?” Lucas whispered to the memory. “Am I not perfect? I love her.”