Corizen Rising

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Corizen Rising Page 8

by Heidi J. Leavitt


  Andie kicked and flailed against her assailant in futility. He continued to hiss at her. “The years in prison were not kind, but you have not forgotten me I see. I have not forgotten you either, Dia. You are older now, much older, but you still have a lesson to learn from me. A lesson in true pain. Now be silent when I release you or your daughter will die.”

  He dragged her into the bushes and flung her onto the ground. Andie gasped for air, her head spinning. Her throat throbbed painfully. Oh, dear heaven, had the world gone mad? What was Oanni doing in a guard’s uniform at the Royal Palace instead of sitting in prison? What had he done with Tiran?

  “You are absolutely crazy!” Andie managed to croak. “All I have to do is scream and guards will come running from every side.”

  “You can yell if you want,” Oanni responded coldly. “But if you do, you will never find your daughter.” Andie went rigid with fear. This man could and would hurt Tiran, but she couldn’t let him see how much it terrified her. It would only make things worse. It was better to keep him talking. She needed as much information as possible.

  “This place is alive with real guards, Oanni. You could never get her off the palace grounds without someone stopping you,” she warned hoarsely.

  “Well, I am not here alone,” gloated Oanni.

  Andie groaned in pain and fear. “Not that man Markus!”

  “Yes, Markus. Although I think you would know him better by the name Erron Kruunde.”

  Andie nearly couldn’t speak from shock. “But Erron is dead! He died when . . . when his father died,” she protested weakly.

  “When you killed his father, you mean. However, Erron was not in the fortress when you so brutally attacked us. Master Jaory had Erron living elsewhere for his protection.”

  Andie tried to raise herself off the ground. There had to be some way she could get away. She had to find Tiran! Her daughter was off with the son of the man who had hunted her for ten years. The son of the man she had helped destroy would certainly show no pity on Tiran.

  “I thought perhaps I would just have Erron kill your daughter. That would have been traumatic for you. Certainly it would have been only fair. Yet in the end it did not satisfy my desires for revenge. You have lost other family members and still you go on. Yet you destroyed my world, Dia. The least I could do was destroy yours. As it turns out, things are better this way. It has a delicious irony to it that though you so ungraciously refused the role of Erron’s concubine, your daughter takes it willingly.”

  Oanni yanked Andie to her feet. “Now look as my revenge is complete,” he jeered triumphantly. From their vantage point, Andie could see Tiran walking down the path to the side entrance of the palace grounds, hand in hand with Jaory’s son Erron. Andie felt physically ill. “My daughter,” she moaned quietly, in spite of herself.

  “She is eloping with Master Erron tonight, dear Dia, and you will never see her again. She has rejected you and chosen the house of Kruunde!”

  “Tiran! No! Tiran, come back!” screamed Andie, struggling to break from Oanni’s grasp. Oanni grabbed at Andie, but she was struggling fiercely now. Just as she was about to break free, he pulled his laser from his belt and shot her in the chest. While guards began to converge from all directions, Andie collapsed on the ground.

  “Not Tiran,” she murmured softly. Then darkness took her.

  9. The Longest Night

  Casey was starting to wonder if he could concentrate on the President’s lengthy speech any longer when sirens suddenly blared outside the palace. President Gulann’s speech stopped abruptly as his security guards stepped forward and quickly began to usher him from the ballroom through a small door in the back. Soldiers appeared at the main front and back entrances, and Casey could feel the panic start to ripple through the crowd. He stared around, wondering what had happened this time. He couldn’t see any signs of an explosion or any violence at all—just a lot of bewildered and nervous guests. He was just beginning to consider elbowing his way through the crowd to get some information when one of the President’s aides stepped to the podium.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, if I could have your attention please,” he announced. “Thank you for your patience. It seems we have had a breach of security and so the palace grounds have been placed on lockdown. There is nothing to worry about, and you are all perfectly safe. Please continue to enjoy the music and the refreshments until the lockdown is lifted. Thank you.”

  Casey was concerned despite the reassurance of the aide. Something must have happened to cause the lockdown. With a jolt he realized that his wife had left the ballroom, and he had no idea where his daughter was.

  “Uncle Casey?” He turned to Kendra who was staring at him with wide, frightened eyes. “What’s going on? Is it the Brotherhood? Are we in danger?”

  “I’m sure everything is fine,” he reassured. “If it were something really serious they would be evacuating us. Most likely they found a guest who wasn’t cleared to be on the grounds tonight.” Kendra nodded, and then started peering over the heads around her.

  “I bet Tiran’s not happy. She was so excited for tonight, and here all her dancing is getting interrupted.” Casey wasn’t listening. He had spotted someone he knew.

  “Kendra, follow me.” He started working his way through the murmuring crowd. The music had started again, but no one was dancing. He glanced back once or twice to make sure Kendra was following and then finally reached the queue of people standing around the soldiers at the door asking for information.

  “But I’m the Director of Finance. Surely you can tell me what is going on?”

  “I don’t care if there is a lockdown. I simply must have some air!”

  “I demand a personal escort out! I am not staying any longer!”

  Casey skirted around the side of the group and cornered a soldier from the International Complex.

  “Lieutenant Derund!” he called.

  The lieutenant glanced at Casey, and then broke through the clamoring crowd surrounding him. He strode to Casey’s side.

  “What’s going on?” Casey asked him. “What kind of security breach are we talking about?”

  “There was a shooting on the grounds.”

  Kendra gasped from behind Casey.

  “What happened? Who was shot?” Casey demanded.

  “I don’t know. It was one of the guests, I think. Some of the guards patrolling the grounds heard screaming but by the time they got there it was too late.”

  “And the assassin?” Casey continued.

  “Resisted and was killed by the guard.” Suddenly the lieutenant pressed his hand to the radio clipped in his ear and listened for a moment. He spoke quickly into his radio in return, and Casey stared around the ballroom, scanning the crowd for either Andie or Tiran. They had to be around here somewhere. If they had been locked out somewhere else, it could take hours before he tracked them down. For a moment he was unreasonably annoyed again with Andie for slipping out during the President’s speech.

  “Ambassador Morten, could you come with me, please?” Lieutenant Derund requested abruptly, breaking into Casey’s thoughts. Casey stared at the lieutenant, a nameless dread spreading through his chest.

  “What for?” he demanded, a bit too quickly. “I thought no one was allowed out of a room during a lockdown, no exceptions.”

  “The head of security needs to see you right away. They just called it over the radio, but I don’t have any details,” the lieutenant replied uneasily.

  Casey quickly assented but added, “My niece will come with us if you don’t mind.”

  The lieutenant looked at Kendra, who was pale and shaky.

  “It might be better . . .”

  “No, Lieutenant,” Casey returned simply. The soldier hesitated for a moment then nodded and gestured for them to follow. They pushed their way out of the crowd and the soldiers parted to let the
m through the ballroom doors.

  Casey followed the lieutenant in silence as he led them down the hallway of the east wing. With each step he took his terror grew. There had been a shooting, and the security wanted to speak to him. Oh, please let my family be OK, Casey breathed silently. He didn’t think he could bear it if something had happened to either Andie or Tiran. They were met by a man that Casey recognized but whose name he didn’t know.

  “Ambassador Morten, my name is Captain Jirac. I am the head of security for the Palace grounds. I regret to tell you that there was a shooting on the grounds, and we have identified the victim as your wife,” he informed quietly.

  “Not Andie,” Casey whispered.

  The captain bowed his head.

  “You don’t mean Aunt Andie, you can’t mean that Aunt Andie was killed!” cried Kendra desperately.

  “She is still alive,” the captain continued, raising his eyes again. “She was gravely injured, but they have transported her to the Roma Central Hospital.”

  “Well, I must go to her at once. I want an escort and a transport right away,” Casey ordered.

  “Yes, sir,” the captain replied and began speaking into his transmitter.

  “Kendra,” Casey instructed, “I want you to go find Tiran.”

  “Ambassador,” interrupted Lieutenant Derund. “The palace is in lockdown. Your niece will not be allowed back in the ballroom. We will keep her safe in one of the east rooms.”

  “No! Let me go with you, Uncle Casey, please?” Kendra pleaded. “I don’t want to stay here alone wondering what is happening.”

  “All right. But Lieutenant, someone needs to find my daughter Tiran. Have a guard escort take her to the International Complex. She’ll be safer there.”

  The lieutenant bowed slightly and started off down the hall.

  “Ambassador, if you will just follow me, please,” requested Captain Jirac. Casey nodded to Kendra, and they set off down the hall after him.

  ♦

  Five hours later, Casey sat with his head in his hands in a private waiting room inside the hospital. Kendra was curled in a nearby chair, her mouth slightly open as she dozed. They had reached the hospital just as Andie was being sent in for surgery. Periodically a staff member had come to give him status reports on the repair of the laser damage. All the reports had been more or less vague reassurances that everything was “going well.” The only thing that Casey had to cling to was that Andie was still alive.

  Kendra had fallen asleep a couple of hours ago leaving Casey completely alone with his troubling memories. What if she dies? he wondered. What will I do without her? Memories of the recent arguments and the cold silences between them played over and over in his head until his forehead throbbed and his eyes stung. He had been taking Andie for granted all this time. When was the last time he had told her he loved her? It had been so long. What if she died never knowing that he had never really wanted to leave her?

  A knock on the door and one of his aides stepped in between the soldiers who were standing guard outside the door.

  “Ambassador Morten,” the aide began, drawing a deep breath. “I have some news for you.” Casey was on his feet instantly. “Yes, Steven? Have you found out who the assassin was?”

  “Well, he has not yet been identified, but he was wearing a Palace Guard uniform.” Casey gasped in surprise.

  “I thought all the Guard were so carefully screened they were beyond suspicion!”

  “He wasn’t actually a member of the Guard. Somehow he obtained a uniform and access to the grounds. They are still investigating it. However, we did find the mark of the Brotherhood, as well as a Bastalt Prison tattoo on his chest,” explained Steven.

  “So it was one of the Brotherhood’s jailbreak thugs,” Casey said angrily. “What was he doing there? Was he looking to kill the new president?”

  Steven hesitated for a moment. “They think your wife might truly have been the intended target.”

  “What?” exclaimed Casey, horrified. Kendra stirred fitfully in her chair.

  “Intelligence believes she is on the current Red List of the Brotherhood,” Steven continued hurriedly. Casey frowned, his forehead creasing deeply.

  “I know it does not make much sense, sir. Most of the Red List names are political targets or people who were involved with the Resistance.”

  “Or people who have betrayed the Oman personally,” Casey added. With the last words, the color drained from his face. “He knows. Somebody has told the Oman who she is.”

  Steven raised his eyebrows. “I don’t understand, Ambassador.”

  Casey closed his eyes for a moment. Then he sighed heavily. He might as well tell Steven. It was irrelevant who knew the truth now.

  “How much do you know about the Corizen Revolution, Steven?”

  “A fair amount. I studied everything I could get my hands on when you hired me. I even took a class or two at the University.”

  Casey took a deep breath and then confessed, “My wife is Sirra Bruche.” Steven’s jaw dropped open. “We kept that secret when we came back to Corizen because years ago Othar Eshude swore a blood feud against her first husband.”

  “She was married to Laeren Bruche?”

  “For only four years, but it haunts our life even now,” Casey said bitterly. “Why did no one tell me this before?” Casey raged. “We should have had added security. If I had known she was on that List I never would have brought my family to the Palace tonight!”

  The aide merely shook his head. “I don’t know, sir.” Casey suddenly became aware that he had woken Kendra. She was staring at him with wide eyes. With a shock he remembered Tiran. Tiran was in just as much danger! If the Brotherhood knew who Andie was, then they could well figure out that Tiran was Laeren’s biological daughter.

  “Steven, I want you to contact security at the International Complex. I arranged for the Palace Guard to send Tiran home. Have Tiran brought here to the hospital under heavy guard. Then contact Admiral Hernandez and have him approve a portal jaunt to Zenith,” Casey ordered. Steven listened to the instructions silently. Kendra’s mouth was hanging open, but she didn’t say anything.

  “Shall I arrange for a ship then, Ambassador?” Steven inquired, his eyebrow raised.

  “Yes,” Casey confirmed, a slight tremor in his voice. “But I’m not sure when I will need it yet. I need to wait until my wife comes out of surgery.”

  The aide inclined his head briefly and quickly left the room. Casey turned to Kendra who was still staring at him in shock.

  “Uncle Casey,” she began hesitantly. “Are we leaving Corizen?”

  Suddenly the door opened again, and a man dressed in the sterile black scrubs of a surgeon entered the room.

  “Ambassador Morten?” he queried.

  “Yes,” Casey answered, a bit fearfully. His anger subsided at once while his near-paralyzing fear returned.

  “My name is Doctor Murille. I wanted to let you know that we have just finished surgery on your wife, and her condition is stable. I believe she is going to make it,” the surgeon informed them, his shoulders sagging with fatigue.

  “Thank the stars,” Casey sighed in relief. It was as if a large weight had been lifted off his chest. He took a deep breath and felt some of the tension leave his torso as he exhaled. Everything might be okay if Andie was going to live.

  “We had to repair extensive laser damage to her tissues—it seems she was shot at very close range. Her recovery will be protracted I’m afraid. We have induced a state of coma in the hopes that she will heal more quickly.”

  Suddenly an idea shot through Casey like a jolt. He considered for a moment.

  “Doctor Murille, how soon would it be possible to move my wife?”

  “Move her?” The doctor was alarmed. “It depends what you mean by moving her. She is still gravely injured and needs time
to heal. But with the proper equipment, it is possible that she could be transferred to another location within twenty-four hours.” He frowned at Casey, clearly disapproving of such an idea.

  “When may I see her?” Casey asked, a bit more subdued.

  “In about an hour. A nurse will come to escort you.”

  “Thank you, doctor. I won’t hold you up any longer,” Casey apologized. The doctor gave Casey one more piercing look and then swiftly left the room. Casey began to pace the room, lips pursed as he thought his way through his idea. It could work if he had the right people involved. He would have to call in some favors though.

  “Uncle Casey, is Laeren Bruche Tiran’s real father?” Kendra asked tentatively.

  “Yes,” he sighed. “She doesn’t remember him. He died before she was two years old. I married your aunt when Tiran was six, but Tiran had already been living with me for a year before that, after her grandmother was killed in the revolution. I’ve loved her just like she was my own.” His voice broke, and he stopped to get control of himself.

  “I know she loves you a lot too, Uncle Casey. It breaks her heart when you have to go away,” Kendra returned timidly.

  Casey had to ask himself why he had ever left. It hadn’t helped his family in the end. “Most people don’t have any idea. Tiran goes by my last name, not her real father’s. Of course, she doesn’t look anything like me, but most people just assumed we adopted a local child.” He laughed a bit cynically. “We thought it was best if the name Bruche wasn’t connected to the family.”

  “But why?” Kendra asked in astonishment. “Everyone at school talks of the whole Bruche family with awe and respect.”

  “It was just safer that way,” Casey returned cryptically. He didn’t want to go into all of that now. They had enough to worry about without dredging up the past history of Othar Eshude.

  “So somebody knows then that Aunt Andie is Sirra Bruche?”

  “Somebody told the leader of the Brotherhood,” Casey concluded heavily. “Let’s just put it like this. The leader of the Brotherhood right now is Othar Eshude, and Eshude has a special hatred for the Bruche family.”

 

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