Reshner's Royal Ranger

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Reshner's Royal Ranger Page 12

by Julie C. Gilbert


  That many shiners means ...

  Reia’s laugh interrupted his thoughts.

  “See anything interesting?” she asked.

  “Not yet,” Terosh muttered. He shifted from foot to foot, trying to resist checking the bottom of his boots.

  “The floor’s clean,” Reia commented. She pointed to the ceiling. “Listen.”

  Terosh heard the faint whistle of air. After a few seconds, he concluded there must be air vents above and to the sides beneath the shiners.

  The zalok queen rose two and a half meters high. If she stood up on her two hind legs she would be over four meters tall, not counting her long, spikey tail. Her black, leathery face and arms appeared bare. Rows upon rows of purple scales—the queen’s most magnificent feature—covered her from head to tail. The purple scales exceeded beauty expectations. They shifted shade with every movement either of the zalok or the observer. The queen reminded him of a dragon or a cominad, but the stories had failed to describe her commanding presence.

  Unconsciously, Terosh compared the creature to his deceased mother. Queen Kila’s wardrobe of exquisite gowns would have been hard-pressed to match the zalok queen’s natural beauty. Terosh joined Reia by kneeling before the splendid creature.

  When their knees began burning, Terosh and Reia set about making camp. While Reia fetched water from the stream running along the cave’s left side, Terosh braved the snowstorm for firewood. As he tromped back in, shaking snow from his boots, he watched half a dozen squirrels and other small creatures scurrying over the large pile of the queen’s stores, setting it in a neater order.

  “They bring her tokens in exchange for naturally shed scales,” Reia explained, noticing his interest in the tiny workers. “They use the scales in their homes.”

  After arranging the brush into a neat pile, Terosh picked up a twig and studied its bumps and ridges. He considered waiting for Reia to light the fire but decided to do it himself.

  “Light,” he commanded the anotechs, expecting them to ignore him.

  Upon healing his windstorm injuries, the anotechs had left him with a working knowledge of their language. Terosh could have used the Kalastan word for fire, but he wanted to experiment with the idea that the anotechs could speak his language. The stick burst into flames so fast it seared his hand. Terosh cried out and dropped the stick onto the brush. The fire fixings happily exploded into flames, drawing a stare from the zalok queen.

  Reia chuckled and captured Terosh’s injured hand.

  “Hethiciun.” She gently turned his hand over to make sure the wound was completely healed. It had only been a mild burn. “You’re going to have to be more specific with them. They’re like small children responding to commands.”

  “Naughty children,” Terosh grumbled. “Thank you.” He gripped Reia’s left hand, suddenly reluctant to let it slip away.

  After eating some cannafitch jerky, Terosh and Reia exchanged a few stories. Then, they engaged in a friendly duel. The battle on the Riden Mountains showed them that the banistick could handle kerlinblade strikes, but tonight, Reia added an anotech shield around the banistick to make it more durable.

  When they first started fighting, the queen bristled and reared back, ready to defend herself. After three minutes of talk from Reia, the queen shook her head, turned two circles, snorted, and settled down to sleep with her back to them.

  “I think we’ve been dismissed,” Terosh said, raising his kerlinblade in a salute. “Shall we?”

  “As you wish, Highness,” Reia replied.

  They fought from one end of the cavern to the other and back twice. Terosh noticed that his dueling skills were sharper. He took a moment to analyze Reia’s style. She fought with a refreshing energy and vitality that made him miss the daily duels with the weapons masters, yet her strikes seemed tentative.

  “You’re holding back,” he accused, blocking a slow side sweep.

  “Of course, I am. The point is not to kill each other,” Reia replied.

  “The point is to get better,” Terosh insisted, disengaging. “So, try to keep up.” With that, he attacked with a flurry of strikes that forced Reia back.

  She rose to the challenge, and they fought their mock battle, losing themselves in the rhythm of strikes and parries. The duel ended abruptly when Reia took a tumble into the stream. Terosh valiantly fished her out.

  As they dried out next to the fire, they again swapped stories.

  When Reia’s turn rolled around for the third time, she grew pensive.

  “My sister once saved a boy from a Porit viper.”

  “I didn’t even know you had a sister,” Terosh commented.

  “I almost didn’t,” Reia replied.

  “You don’t have to tell me.”

  “I want to, but I think I’d better let the anotechs show you, if you’re willing. The experience might be ... intense.”

  She looked so sad that Terosh would have done anything to ease her mind.

  “I am willing,” he said solemnly.

  Reia took Terosh’s right hand. His fingers tingled where the anotechs transferred from her to him, carrying the memories.

  In his mind’s eye, Terosh saw a massive stake surrounded by torch-toting men. A girl slumped against it, making the scene much more disturbing. She didn’t look much like Reia, but there was an air of familiarity about her. The anotechs identified her as Kiata Antellio.

  “Where are the others?” demanded a tall man holding a banistick. The man kicked the girl, catching her in the lower left ribs.

  Breathing raggedly, Kiata stared up at the man.

  “What others, Master Keldor?”

  The man stiffened with surprise and anger. He rained more blows upon the girl until a new cry split the night air.

  Two men leapt into the brush and pulled out a young boy.

  “Taly! How did he get here?” A sob choked off more questions. Keldor dropped the banistick, rushed to the boy, and scooped him half onto his lap. “What happened?”

  “Snakebite, sir,” answered one of the men.

  The child’s eyes were closed, and he lay so still Terosh couldn’t tell if he lived.

  “I can save him!” Kiata called.

  “Silence! The man needs to grieve!” shouted one of the men.

  “I can save him!” Kiata repeated.

  “Cut her loose, Careth,” ordered Keldor.

  Soon Kiata was dumped next to Keldor and the boy. She placed her left hand on the boy’s forehead and her right hand on his chest.

  “Hesseporatha. Hethledanlon,” Kiata mumbled.

  “What in Riden’s name is she saying?” a spectator demanded.

  Terosh’s hands tingled again, but this time it was like a hundred tiny pins prickled his fingertips. Kiata continued to work for several minutes, before collapsing next to the boy.

  Returning to the present, Terosh looked at Reia and wondered how many times she had experienced the memories.

  “Why did she save him?” he asked hoarsely.

  “It’s what we do,” Reia answered, shrugging. She offered him a drink of water.

  Accepting the drink, Terosh refrained from telling her how stupid that philosophy could be. To distract her, he spoke of Tarel and Idellia, the royal couple assassinated by rogue Royal Guards on Jira (March) 12, 1330. Then, seeing she still needed distracting, he detailed King Rammon’s unusually long reign, the murder of the king’s wife and three of his children, Princess Lystran’s escape, the building of the city of Rammon, and the discovery of tosh as a healing agent and a fuel source.

  To balance things, he recounted Princess Sora Ann’s romance with Quinard the Royal Guard and some antics of the twin princes, Yuri and Rumel, sons of Othel Belri and Queen Lissa. He mentioned Prince Skye’s obsession with animals. Indulged by his parents and his brother, Crown Prince Tristan, Skye filled the Rammon Palace with over fifteen thousand species of animals from wallays to korvers to cannafitch to rine bats. He even had two hook whales in a tank in his bedroom.


  Terosh knew Reia enjoyed tales about Davel. She knew him as the founder of the Rangers, but he doubted she knew much about him as a prince. In Pirua (September) of 1053 Crown Prince Davel’s little sister, Princess Lin, was kidnapped. Davel gathered some trusted guards and formed the Order of the Nareth Talis, or Night Torch, to track down the kidnappers. A generation later, the Nareth Talis became a part of the Reshner Rangers. The new title declared that the Order served everybody. The passage of time pared the title down to Rangers.

  After about an hour, Reia took over storytelling. She first spoke about her masters and training. Her tone professed love and deep respect for Niklos Mikhail McGreven and Jolinda Ekris. Then, she spoke with equal passion for Rangers who stood for justice, such as Miere Saan, Tolin, and Tyler Wexam, and those who abused their authority, like Raynn Criman, Amnek Miduo, Gedroo, and Vazdon. Finally, Reia explained some of the Ranger traditions, including the prohibition against romantic entanglements with royals.

  “You wouldn’t want to fall in love with anyone in my family anyway,” Terosh teased. “We have the bad habit of dying violently.”

  “That’s a horrible thing to say!” Reia protested.

  Terosh shrugged.

  “It’s the truth. Take my own family, starting with my grandparents. King Salen and Queen Miren had four children: Crown Princess Uria, her twin brother Uel, Princess Mavis, and Prince Teorn. Aunt Mavis was disowned for falling in love with a Third Lord. Uria and Uel were assassinated in Temen (July) of 1516, and King Salen died a few years later, killed by GAPP agents.”

  “What’s GAPP?” Reia asked.

  “You Rangers don’t get out much, do you?”

  “Some do, some don’t. I’m just an apprentice. I’m in the ‘don’t’ category.”

  “Fair enough,” Terosh said. “GAPP, stands for the Galactic Alliance of Populated Planets. They’ve been trying to rearrange Reshner’s government for centuries, but so far they’ve only managed a few arranged marriages, such as my grandparents and parents.”

  “Why accept the GAPP arrangements?”

  “Politics is more complicated than simply turning down something distasteful.”

  Reia’s eyes narrowed.

  “Are you saying your grandfather didn’t love your grandmother?”

  Terosh shook his head.

  “I’m saying that my grandfather married to avoid a war with Porit, and my father married to seal a trade deal with Gardan. My mother spent much time arranging suitable matches for my brother and me. Based on that, who needs quicksand to sink a relationship?”

  “That’s sad,” Reia noted.

  “My brother married for love, and that certainly didn’t end well.” Silence stretched and Terosh felt Reia’s hand upon his shoulder.

  “Who was she?”

  Tucking his knees close, Terosh pulled up a mental picture of Dr. Deanna Koffrin.

  “She was a scientist who brought out the best in him.” He squeezed his eyes shut. “They had a child, but they’re both dead now. Dr. Koffrin and the child, I mean. Tate’s just dead inside.”

  “I’m sorry.” Reia squeezed his shoulder.

  His pain flipped to anger.

  “I should have stopped him! I could have!”

  “How, Terosh?”

  Terosh realized she’d finally neglected to use his title, but his efforts went into controlling his emotions.

  “You can’t stop love. It’s more powerful than a windstorm.”

  Terosh considered her words.

  “Then why do Rangers try?”

  Reia released his shoulder. When she spoke, her tone hinted at a smile.

  “Some of us think that denying love makes us stronger, but we’re not forbidden to marry. We just have to avoid royals.” She let silence linger then added, “Sometimes I think we’re all fools.”

  “You’re no fool,” Terosh protested.

  Reia laughed, short and sharp.

  “Tell that to Lucas. I’m afraid he’d beg to differ.”

  “Who’s that?” Terosh asked.

  The name seemed familiar.

  “My one and only disastrous foray into heart matters.”

  Terosh barely heard her reply because the nagging sensation resolved itself.

  “He’s that Ranger who claimed to be a Kireshana guardian.”

  “He did? When?” asked Reia.

  “Could he be lying?” Terosh wondered.

  “I suppose so, but why? As far as I know, there are no general Kireshana guardians. Our focus has always been the Royal House. We don’t have enough people to adequately protect every candidate. Even if we could, Lucas is a master. It would have made more sense for the Council to assign him rather than me as your guardian. What would he gain by lying?”

  Trust, Terosh answered silently.

  ENIS (APRIL) 10, 1538

  Same Day

  Governor General’s Estate, City of Idonia

  After swallowing his pride, Kezem sought his mother’s help in confirming Lucas’s information concerning the Royal House. He had even offered to meet her in person. Much to his relief, she turned down the face-to-face meeting. Though grateful his mother seemed in a forgiving mood about the assassination attempt, Kezem liked the distance a holographic link afforded him. Still, he hated waiting. Stalking around his office like a caged kambri was the only way to control his nerves. He sighed, feeling like his entire life consisted of waiting for meetings. Training battles hardly assuaged his need to beat something.

  His mother appeared and spoke without preamble.

  “It is true. I have a dozen informants to check yet, but the reports confirm Ranger Telon’s account. I’m surprised your pet Maledek didn’t tell you this directly, and I can’t believe I never realized it before. It makes perfect sense that Captain Kelter would be Taytron’s mother. She looks exactly like Kila and was isolated with the queen for the exact same time. My sources do not think even Teorn knows.”

  “How could they hide something like that from him?”

  “Those were different days. My father kept Teorn busy building alliances and dealing with GAPP lackeys. He hardly had time to breathe let alone think about his quaint marriage. The Gardanian customs dictated the groom not see the bride’s face until the morning after the wedding.”

  “Does this change anything?” Kezem wondered.

  “It should make you more willing to consider my suggestion,” Lady Mavis said. “The Mitran people and their barbaric customs are capable of dispatching three of our royal troubles. We’ll have to handle the fourth ourselves when the time is right.”

  “Terosh.” Kezem voiced the fourth royal problem. He didn’t want to think about the backwards Mitran people or their Blood Harvest. The idea of systematically destroying a royal bloodline every thousand year so none could claim a longer rule was ludicrous. The way his mother had manipulated things to have the Blood Harvest deal with his uncle and cousin fascinated him.

  Nodding, Lady Mavis continued her analysis of their situation.

  “There are many options for dealing with Terosh, but I’m loath to dwell on the problem with much of the Kireshana still ahead of him. Timing is the key to everything. Decide which side you want to be on when this plays out but know that my agents are already working to the ends I described.”

  “What of the Ranger problem?” Kezem inquired. “They will always defend House Minstel.”

  “One thing at a time, love,” his mother urged. “We’ll let the Mitra deal with Teorn, Taytron, and Captain Kelter, cast the full might of your RT Alliance against the Rangers, and then either bend Terosh to our purposes or kill him. I’m working to weaken the Rangers. I’ll let you know if my plans pan out. For now, I suggest your agents work with mine in keeping your cousin’s royal neck intact.”

  Kezem grunted. He had told most of his operatives not to kill his cousin, but part of him had hoped one would succeed anyway. He had little choice now. He needed all the help he could get. Working against his mother would only
exhaust both of their resources. Without a farewell, he stormed over to his desk and prepared orders for his remaining agents.

  The task took almost an hour and gave Kezem a headache. Slumping in his chair, he massaged his temple with both hands. Soon thereafter, Dantrel came in with a glowing report on the korver training program. After listening to the young man blather on for a minute, Kezem threw him out of the office. He’d read the full report later. Right now, he had more pressing issues to consider. For example, Maledek had not taken the changing orders well, and Prince Taytron was making a nuisance of himself by obsessively pursuing of Maledek.

  Taytron’s pursuing a myth and the embodiment of that myth is probably running amok.

  The thought wrapped around Kezem like a strong cord looped across his chest, making him feel trapped.

  Then, a new thought lightened his mood.

  Maledek must be controlled, Taytron needs to kill him, and Lucas Telon can help me accomplish both.

  Chapter 18:

  Korver Attack

  ENIS (APRIL) 28, 1538

  Fifty-seven days into Prince Terosh’s Kireshana journey

  Dalonos’s Campsite, near the Zalok Caves, Riden Mountains

  Dalonos had trained hard for this moment. He remembered starring down at the twisted metal lump that used to be his holograph player. That had been the turning point. The dark anotechs still wanted to kill Prince Terosh. They showed him how, and he’d spent weeks preparing. His control over the korvers still lacked finesse but control was contrary to his needs anyway. He wanted madness, rage, and bloodlust.

  Gaius—the beast named after the Kalastan god of fire—was a different story. He was more of an ally than a slave. Roughly four times bigger than the average korver, Gaius made his entire pack look like pups. He stalked back and forth across a circle that rapidly changed as those he drew near shrank away and those he moved away from surged forward, barking wildly. His low growls made the pebbles around him tremble.

  Breathing deeply, Dalonos dropped into a meditative state and sent anotechs to control the other korvers. It would be a long but glorious night.

 

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