by Susan Kelley
Joe stared at her for a moment before answering. “We’re keeping a close watch on Mast and tightening access to the living areas of your hall. Too many people can enter your home and be only a door and a guard away from you.”
“What if someone recognizes you and sends troops to capture you?” Despite her earlier insistence that the Galactic Council wouldn’t dare invade her planet to hunt Joe, she feared they might do just that. She hadn’t expected someone like Mast who might know Joe.
“If you can’t keep them away with diplomacy and they bring a large force, I’ll surrender.”
“What?”
“You can’t sacrifice your people to defend me. I’m not their problem.”
“You’re a citizen of Giroux now. You deserve all the protection any of the citizens do. Not even Minister Smeltz would dare attack us to procure your capture.”
Joe looked doubtful, but he let it drop. “Captain Sontu will stay at your side tomorrow when I go after the miner.”
“I want that man to stand trial.”
“Isn’t that why Sontu is sending men along? He thinks I might use too much force.”
“What else did you work on all day?”
“I flew my cruiser onto Giroux without being spotted. We need to update your planetary sensor grid. I could land an army without anyone knowing until I knocked on your front door.”
Heat rose in Callie’s face. Was she that inadequate a ruler?” “Is there anything we’re doing right?”
Joe looked wary, but the sarcasm went by him. “Captain Sontu seems a good soldier, but he’s short on help and you haven’t given him enough power to enforce security concerns.”
“I haven’t?”
Joe went on, oblivious to her growing anger. “Dania Cresbol may be aligned with your enemies, yet you allow her full access to your home. She should be replaced. The outworld miners are often rowdy and violent, terrorizing your citizens. They should be deported off world at any minor infraction no matter how much they assist the economy.”
“Anything else?” Callie spat between her clenched teeth.
Joe narrowed his eyes, a wary question in them. “I’ll have more by tomorrow night.”
Callie glared at him, seeing his confusion. His posture suggested a man wanting to flee so she let out a deep breath and lied. “I look forward to your next report.”
“One more thing.” Joe shifted his weight in an unusually nervous manner. “I want more guards with you at all times?”
Callie closed the distance between them and slid her hand up his arm to his shoulder. She continued the motion down over his chest and rested her hand over his heart. “Even at night? You want these guards watching me sleep?”
Joe opened his mouth to answer, but snapped it shut when she shrugged her robe off her shoulders. The smooth silk slid soundlessly to the floor and covered his boots and her bare feet. He stared at it for a moment before he swept his gaze up her legs and across her breasts. When his gaze finally lifted to hers, the heat in his was a match for hers. “I don’t want anyone watching you sleep except for me.”
“I don’t intend to sleep for a while.” His simple honesty pleased Callie. Matters of state could wait until tomorrow. She took her marine’s hand and led him to bed.
* * * *
Callie traced the curve of muscle on top of Joe’s shoulder, finding the smooth hardness fascinating. Even though he slept, his body appeared tensed and ready to fight. Or make love.
Squeezing her thighs together to renew the pleasurable ache still lingering there, Callie fought the temptation to wake him for another bout of love play. Did he look tired? Since she’d met him, he seldom took a full night’s rest. Did that wear on him, building a mountain of fatigue or did he require less sleep than other men?
She stopped touching, deciding it wasn’t fair to wake him. Tomorrow would be stressful for him. The hunt for the miner, a strange land and working with strangers, and the royal banquet with all its social niceties, would test his ability to adapt in an alien environment in a new role.
How should she present him? As a guard, standing watch at her back? Or as more. Should she seat him at her right hand? It would bring more attention to him and increase the danger of someone recognizing him. How long until her entire household figured out what Dania only assumed? Could she look at Joe and not have everyone know he was her lover?
Her earlier concerns came back to nag at her. Many of the women attending the banquet might look at Joe and experience that rush of heady lust he inspired in Callie. What would she do if his eye turned toward a more attractive woman?
Joe shifted in his sleep, rolling away from her. She curled her body against his back, his presence bringing her a sense of peace and security. She listened to his deep even breathing and made her decision. He would stand at her back, a sentinel, away from the greedy clutches of any hungry females of her court.
* * * *
Sontu stood slightly behind Callie’s chair with Joe. The captain whispered short descriptions of the individuals dining at the long table. He nodded toward a blonde woman occupying a seat halfway down the right side of the table. “That’s Cibil Wendt fluttering her lashes at you.”
“Stay away from her,” Callie flung over her shoulder, giving Joe a quick frown. She had glared at him numerous times since they’d entered the banquet hall.
“Why?” Joe thought her answer might clue him into the reason for her irritation. What had he done to anger her? They’d canceled the arrest of the miner she’d feared Joe would kill. Word had somehow reached the rapist and he’d fled into hiding. Joe had spent most of the day with Sontu working with the security techs, but now Callie leveled a glare on him that rivaled the enraged expression of a female boark protecting her young.
“Because I said so.” Callie turned back to the older man sitting to her left after delivering such a senseless justification.
Sontu made a muffled sound that might have been a snort of laughter.
Joe sighed, unable to follow the quirks of humor everyone understood but him. He studied the people in the room instead of trying. Dania spoke urgently with a man Sontu had identified as the agent who brokered deals between Giroux civilians and offworld mining interests. His sleek looks stung Joe’s instincts.
A movement behind Dania called Joe’s perusal fully back to the man who had had a piece of his attention since he’d entered the room. Emer Mast. The assassin stared at him also. His light-colored eyes appeared colorless in the bright artificial lighting of the hall.
Joe had met other men like this one. They followed no code except doing the job assigned to them. Their only duty was to the fees paid to them.
The noisy affair progressed, the aroma of exotic foods mixing with the odors of people. Not all the people odors were unpleasant, but some used too-strong perfumes that couldn’t cover the stench of unwashed flesh.
One of Sontu’s men stood watch at the far door, his alert gaze on Mast. Sontu and Joe had handpicked the soldiers guarding the room though Jak did most of the selecting. Other trusted men worked on the updates for planetary security. Giroux’s technology lingered in the age of antiquity in Joe’s opinion.
A heightened gleam in Mast’s eyes warned Joe, and then the lights went dark. Joe jerked Callie out of her chair and to the floor. He covered her with his body.
Squeals, giggles and the shouts of startled men added to the confusion in the blackness. Joe stood and urged Callie back against the wall. A whisper of sound warned him. He caught the glint of a blade as it slashed toward the spot where they’d just vacated.
Joe kicked out his foot to a spot slightly behind the knife. He connected, hearing and feeling the crack of bone. A grunt of pain led his next kick to the body of the attacker. Another blade whistled toward him and glanced off his ribs. With Callie behind him, he had no room to avoid it.
The lights blazed to life, revealing one of the young soldiers who had stood silent watch during the meal. Joe hadn’t expected Mast, the at
tack was too amateur, but the assassin had known it was coming.
Sontu pulled the gasping soldier to his feet. One of the man’s wrists hung useless, and he used his other hand to clasp his splintered ribs. Two other guards arrived to restrain the would-be assassin.
“My queen!” Sontu helped Callie to her feet. “Are you hurt?”
She shook her head, staring at the injured man with her eyes stretched wide.
Joe wanted to question the man before killing him, but when he saw the fright in Callie’s eyes, he changed his mind. He stepped toward the man who suddenly started babbling for mercy.
“Sentinel,” Sontu said, apparently seeing in Joe’s eyes whatever the attacker had. “We’ll take care of him later. Not here and not now.”
“Joe.” Callie put her hand on his arm. “I’m fine.”
“This man is one of our own,” Sontu said with righteous anger burning in his eyes. “I take full responsibility.”
“It appears we have traitors among us.” Callie sounded calm, but Joe could feel her trembling where she still held onto his arm.
“I’ll question him myself.” Sontu vowed.
“Captain, clear this room,” Joe ordered. “The banquet is over.”
Callie started to protest, but Sontu moved in front of her and spoke to the confused gathering. He assured them the queen was unharmed and then requested they leave immediately.
Joe walked Callie back the private hall to her sleeping chamber. He didn’t want to leave her alone, but he’d like to question the assassin himself.
“Spirit Father!” Callie gasped. “You’re bleeding! You’ve been stabbed!”
Joe didn’t think the shallow slice along his ribs counted as a stab, but it stung a bit. The blade might have been poisoned.
Callie turned to one of the men standing guard outside her apartment door. “Call Doctor Palm. Now!”
She led Joe toward the bedroom, babbling that he needed to lie down.
Joe followed her obediently, thinking she needed reassurance more than he needed medical attention. Then his vision blurred for a moment. His foot caught on the rich carpet, and he bumped into a wall. He managed to use his new communication unit to call Sontu as fog invaded his mind.
Callie jerked the communicator from his hand as the floor jumped up to meet his knees and then his face.
Chapter Twelve
“He’ll be fine, just a bit tired.” Dr. Lue Palm packed up his instruments. “I’ll come back and check on him in the morning.”
“I’ll be right outside,” Jak said as he escorted the physician out.
Callie closed the door behind them and then returned to Joe’s side. She leaned across the bed and checked the transparent bandage Lue had used to close the deep slice across Joe’s ribs. The poison swelled the flesh around the wound, turning it an angry red. The doctor had mixed her abundant tears with the universal antidote he carried in his medical bag at all times.
A few droplets leaked from her eyes. She caught them and rubbed them on Joe’s hot forehead. Should he suffer from such a fever if the poison was neutralized?
“Callie?”
“I’m here, Joe. Just lie quiet.”
“I need to question….” Joe rose up on his elbows.
“It’s taken care of, now lie back.” Callie pushed against his shoulders. That he let her proved how much the poison weakened him.
“I don’t understand why they tried to kill you,” Joe mumbled.
Callie brushed her hand through his short thick hair. “I think they were after you, Joe, not me.”
Joe blinked, his normally sharp gaze cloudy with drugged fog. “It was a clumsy try.”
“Doctor Palm said if the knife had cut you deeper, the antidote might have been too late.” Callie offered him the elixir-enhanced water Lue had prepared.
Joe sipped a little before dropping his head back to the pillow. His eyes drifted closed.
Callie fussed with the bedcovers around his shoulders. She’d almost lost him. Sleep eluded her as she watched her marine sleep. How could someone create such a beautiful man and then turn him into a weapon of war? How could a woman born of royalty, possessed of intelligence and maturity, fall in love with that weapon?
* * * *
He wasn’t fully recovered, but Joe didn’t let Callie out of his sight. If the poison have been meant for him the previous night, than it was intended to get him out of the way and gain access to her.
“You should be in bed,” Callie repeated for at least the tenth time as they entered the room used for council meetings.
Joe nodded to Sontu and the other guards as he led Callie into the room. They’d scanned the place for listening devices and other signs of tampering before the councilors arrived. No personal guards were permitted to accompany the members.
“I called this meeting for a number of reasons,” Callie began. “First to show you that I’m fine and so is my sentinel. Secondly, you need to be fully informed of what we know of the enemy behind the attack last night. I’ll turn the explanation over to Captain Sontu who has been working with my sentinel to bring Giroux’s defenses up to speck.”
Joe watched the faces of the council members. Few names come to him though he recognized many faces from the banquet. Dania watched Callie with narrowed, hostile eyes.
Sontu cut a professional figure in his black and silver uniform as he stood up and cleared his throat.
“Before you start,” Dania called out. “I would like to know about this new guard, Captain Sontu. Giroux has never hired outworlders to serve as part of our armed forces. Why do we have one now? And what is this new title, sentinel?”
Sontu looked to Callie and received her nod before answering. “This man is responsible for saving our queen when her ship crashed on a hostile planet. He’s proven his loyalty and capability numerous times. He’s a professional who will protect not only our queen, but all those under her care.”
Dania started to interrupt but Sontu glared her into silence. “I’ll not go into all the details here, but all of you need to hear what happened when our queen went missing. She didn’t have an accident but was attacked and nearly killed. All evidence leads us to believe that Geoff Hadrason is behind this. Those of you close to our queen know she has rebuffed his suit at every turn these past two years. I believe that Hadrason intended to capture Queen Callie while she was off-world and had limited protection.”
“What proof?” a large middle-aged man asked.
“Proof enough that the Galactic Military is investigating. Suffice to say that the ship that disabled the queen’s cruiser belonged to Hadrason Mining.’
“Why would a rich man like Hadrason want the Queen of Giroux?” Dania asked. “He can have any woman he wants, beautiful women. Why risk the suspicion of an unlawful wedding?”
“He dares risk because of his arrogance,” Sontu answered. “And as minister of diplomacy, you’re well aware that the Queen’s elixir is the rarest substance in the universe. It runs our economy. From my investigations, I’ve learned that Hadrason suffers greatly from the effects of space travel. He wants control of the Space Dope for himself.”
“Even if what you say is true, what can Hadrason Mining do to us here?” another councilor asked.
“They can steal your queen.” Joe’s patience with these people expired. Dealing with citizens exasperated him. “They can rape your daughters and kill your sons. They can steal the Space Dope that provides your planet’s wealth.”
“There are laws that prevent violent takeovers,” Dania said in her grating tone.
“Only if the Galactic Military Administration is willing to enforce those laws.” Callie’s tone was harsh as she entered the discussion for the first time. “What if that same military is working with Hadrason mining to further their interests?”
“Do you mean the Galactic Military is corrupt?” an older woman asked.
Callie glanced at Joe before answering. “There are people in the military we trust, but there are
also some indications that a few leaders collude with Hadrason Mining on some matters. Captain Sontu, please continue your briefing.”
Sontu launched into a condensed description of the changes to the defenses of the planet. He also mentioned the tougher laws governing off world miners.
Joe evaluated the councilors’ reactions as they listened to the captain’s words. A few nodded agreement, some frowned, but only one stared with open hostility at Callie.
Dania swung her hate-filled glare toward Joe. He’d encountered hate many times before. If only he understood civilian hierarchies better. How much threat was Dania to Callie?
* * * *
The Giroux soldiers made as much noise as a personnel carrier as they crashed through the brush. Worst of all, they believed they were being stealthy.
Joe raised his hand, and they stumbled to a clattering stop behind him. The citizens in the nearby farming community had reported a stranger living in the clearing ahead.
“I don’t see anyone,” the sergeant kneeling beside Joe whispered. The young man deferred to Joe but had made it clear the murderer must be captured alive. Sontu had probably ordered the man to make sure Joe didn’t kill the criminal.
The dirt in front of the steps had been recently disturbed,” Joe pointed out. “Sniff the air. You can smell a recent fire, probably inside the cabin last night.”
“Do you think he’s there, Sentinel?”
“I’ll know when I get closer.” Joe started to push through the bushes but the sergeant put his hand on his arm.
Joe looked at the man’s hand, and the soldier pulled it back as if stung.
“Sorry, sir, but Captain Sontu said I was to stay at your side.”
“I outrank the captain. You’re too loud to go with me. A deaf snake could hear you coming.” Joe slid through the underbrush, leaving the man behind. He wasn’t sure if he did outrank Sontu, but the sergeant didn’t know that.
Joe circled so he could approach the shanty on its windowless west side. Before he even touched the weathered timber siding, he heard a muffled snort and then a broken snore. The sun had nearly reached its apex, but the man apparently still slept. Through a thin crack between the slats of wood, he could smell old food, dirty skin, and even the acid odor of urine overrode the more pleasant smell of wood smoke this close to the source. He listened, concentrating on the interior of the shack and blocking out the soft movements of the trees. A squeak and the brush of coarse cloth against something gave away the occupant’s location.
