“Trevain!” Elandria scolded.
The grey-haired man winked at his wife, and Varia found the gesture charming. She could not resist allowing a small smile to come to her lips, and she immediately felt guilty for slipping slightly out of character.
“See? She’s smiling,” Trevain said. “She wants to be named after a sports car. Mercedes? Porsche? Corvette? Lamborghini?”
“Oh, dear Sedna!” Elandria murmured. “As if the poor girl hasn’t been through enough already.”
“My wife is just upset because she was named after a Korean car,” Trevain told Varia with a grin, “and it’s not really a glamorous vehicle. More of a serviceable family sedan.”
Elandria lightly smacked Trevain in the shoulder. “Stop confusing the poor girl with your man-talk. We need to find a special, sweet name for her. I’d suggest one of my sisters’ names, but they were all highly unlucky.”
“What was it that you intended to name your daughter, Trevain?” Sionna suggested lightly. “That was a pretty-sounding name.”
Trevain paused, his smile slipping away from his lips. His green eyes seemed to darken and fill with shadows as they lowered. “Varia,” he said gruffly. “That’s what I was going to call her.”
In that instant, Varia could see on his face that he loved her. Everything her mother had said was true. Tears filled her eyes, and to conceal them she flung her small body forward to hug Trevain around the neck. The man was startled by the force of her affection, but he naturally returned the hug. He glanced up at his wife in pleasant surprise.
“I think she likes that name, dear,” Elandria said with a chuckle. “I also think she likes you.”
Chapter 17: A Fatal Disease
“What does your wife think of this little ‘business trip’ of ours?” Namaka asked, crossing one shapely, tanned thigh over the other.
Vachlan cleared his throat. “She doesn’t know.”
“I see,” Namaka said with a smile, “but she will know. Once she finds you gone; once she finds me gone.”
“Yeah, kid,” Vachlan said, leaning back against the headrest. He glanced at the ocean which was visible far below the plane, and he thought fondly of Visola’s irrational fear of flying. “It’s probably best that you keep clear of Adlivun for a little while. She won’t be pleased that you betrayed her.”
“I betrayed her?” Namaka repeated with a smile. “And what will she do to you, Uncle Vachlan?”
“It doesn’t really matter,” Vachlan said, closing his eyes. “I’m acting with her best interests in mind. I hope she will be able to understand that, but if not, I’ll face the consequences.”
The sound of a seatbelt unbuckling was heard, and Vachlan was surprised by a firm, warm bottom planting itself in his lap. His eyes snapped open in time to see Namaka comfortably nestling her body against him, and pressing her hand against his abdomen. “I don’t think she will understand that this is in her best interests,” Namaka said teasingly.
“Kid,” he said roughly. “What the hell are you doing?” He looked around, but their cabin of the private plane was empty.
“What does it feel like I’m doing?” she asked, reaching down to unbuckle his pants.
“Hey, hey, stop that,” Vachlan said, catching her wrists. “This is definitely not a good idea.”
“Why not?” she asked with a subtle pout. She wiggled against him playfully. “I can feel that you want me. We’re alone.”
“Namaka, I’m a man. I want everything! But I’m also a gentleman, which means I have morals.” He hesitated. “Not very many morals, mind you, considering we’re heading off to kill hundreds of thousands of people—but just enough to appease my easily satisfied conscience.”
“It’s not your conscience that I want to satisfy,” she whispered. “There must be a reason you brought me along with you instead of the general.”
“Come on, kid,” Vachlan groaned. “Don’t make this difficult on me. I would love to take Visola along—she could really help me stir up some havoc in Damahaar. But I’m trying to protect her. She’s pregnant.”
“Oh,” Namaka said, disappointed. She lowered her eyes, feeling a bit guilty. “I’m sorry. Congratulations. Does that mean that I have to return to my own seat?”
Vachlan hesitated, wondering if there was really any harm in letting the girl remain where she was. It was quite comfortable. Too comfortable. “Sorry, Namaka. It does mean that.”
She didn’t move for a moment, resting against him peacefully. “I used to sit on your lap when I was a little girl,” she recalled, “after you took me from my parents. Sometimes you’d let me hang around while you and King Kyrosed made battle plans, and at first I didn’t have a clue what you were saying, but I quickly learned English listening to you. My first experience with the language was listening to you talk candidly about conquering lesser peoples and taking advantage of them. I used to dream that one day I could sit in that room with you and help to make some of those exhilarating, earth-shattering plans, and help to execute them.”
“But that’s exactly what you’re doing now,” Vachlan pointed out. “You’ve blossomed from the toddler you were when I first met you. You’re a war leader—maybe not in the way Adlivun thinks you should be. You’re more of a mercenary who acts on her own than an organizer of others; much like I am. You’re my protégé.”
She gave him a small smile. “I used to have a huge crush on you. When you left Adlivun, I was so flattered that I was the only one you chose to keep communicating with. All those hundreds of letters. I really thought you liked me—more than just strategically. Even though we mostly discussed Visola, I imagined that there were some sexual undertones to your letters.”
“Those weren’t undertones,” Vachlan admitted. “Those were outright, full-fledged tones. And I’m sorry for that… I’m sorry for leading you on. Although, it wasn’t leading you on at the time. I meant all those things I said—but circumstances have just changed.”
“Did you mean it when you said that you were going to use a pickaxe to smash every bone in Visola Ramaris’ body? When you said that you were going to burn her corpse to ashes, and that while the bonfire raged you would make love to me beside the blazing funeral pyre just to spite her further?”
Vachlan paused in thought. “Wow, did I really write that? It sounds so dramatic when you repeat it out loud, but yes, those were precisely my intentions. I got as far as the pickaxe before I had a real change of heart.”
“I was really looking forward to that,” Namaka said sadly. She used the tip of her index finger to draw patterns on Vachlan’s chest. “You said you were coming back to crush Adlivun with your huge army, and that I would be the only one you allowed to live. You said I could join the Clan of Zalcan and travel around with you, killing lots of people and having tons of wild, crazy sex. You said it would be a gay ol’ time.”
“Aw, Namaka,” Vachlan said with a groan. “You’re making me feel so guilty here. We’re still traveling around and killing people, just without the sex. Can you compromise with me on this? I hate not being able to deliver the things I’ve promised.”
Namaka remained quiet as she considered his words. She remained stubbornly in his lap, reluctant to move from the comfortable perch. “Do you really consider me a valuable asset?” she asked.
“I consider you invaluable, young lady,” he responded without hesitation. “You are my most trusted ally, and skilled far beyond your years. You have listened carefully, and worked with me since your youth. I know that unlike others—your loyalty is more to me than it is to Adlivun.”
“That’s true. My loyalty is to you, but yours is to Visola.” Namaka sighed as she lifted herself off his legs and twisted her body to smoothly deposit herself back into her own chair. She crossed her arms sullenly. “I grew up watching your wife fuck half of Adlivun. I wrote you graphic letters about it.”
“That’s true. And I was doing the same thing, except with the rest of the world. Maybe three-quarters of it. She
and I were disloyal to each other for many years, indeed, for most of your lifetime, but it really was all a misunderstanding. That’s over now. She’s the one for me; she’s magnificent.”
“And if I killed her?” Namaka said with a smile.
Vachlan laughed. “If you were able to get through me, and then somehow, by some miracle, actually overpower Visola… in the highly unlikely event that you were able to accomplish that feat, I would slit your throat. In addition to that, Queen Aazuria or Dr. Ramaris would probably brutally tear out your ovaries and kidneys.”
“Ouch,” Namaka said with a shudder. “Not too attached to the ovaries, but quite fond of the kidneys.”
“Aren’t we all?” Vachlan mused philosophically. “People don’t really mention it, but kidneys are rather essential little tidbits. Anyway, Namaka, I hope you’ll forgive me.”
“You really love her,” Namaka said with a sigh of contentment. “So I missed my narrow window to get with you. That’s fine. It’s actually more fulfilling for me to see you being faithful than it would have been to feel you fucking my brains out.”
“Oh, no, darling. That would have been quite fulfilling. Quite inspiring too, if I do say so myself.” Vachlan chuckled. “But yes, it’s a disease really. More fatal than the thousands of gallons of harvested and cultured bacteria we have stored in this plane. Love. It’s the worst.”
“Luckily, it’s far worse for Visola than it is for you.”
“What do you mean?” he asked.
“You need to remember, she’s my mentor too. Maybe even more than you are. I certainly respect her more than I respect you.” Namaka rested her chin on the palm of her hand. “If I was a warrior woman, which I am, and my husband lied to me and didn’t involve me in his plans—whether or not they were in my best interests—I would shoot the bastard. And if he had gotten me pregnant and just disappeared, when it was the very thing he did before, and the very thing he had promised me never to do again? I would shoot him twice. Maybe three times, directly in the heart. Just saying.”
“I imagine that she will do far worse than that,” Vachlan said with a nervous smile. “She can be rather creative. Nonetheless, let’s leave personal issues behind and discuss the matter at hand. It is essential that we dispense the Legionnaires’ bacteria all at once, targeting the centers of Damahaar where the soldiers congregate. We can find a way to infest their drinking water with the cyanobacteria toxins, and then, right before we leave, we can dispense the tuberculosis.”
“What?” Namaka said in surprise. “I thought Sionna didn’t let you have the tuberculosis.”
“I could see in her eyes that she wanted to give it to me. So I held a knife to her neck and asked again, and she relented.”
“Nice,” Namaka said approvingly. “I just hope it doesn’t backfire.”
“I’m rather excited,” Vachlan admitted. “More so than I’ve been in a long time. We’re going to hit the Clan with so many things at once that they are going to be down on their knees, reeling and unable to ever stand again.”
“How can you expect me to not get turned on when you talk like that?” Namaka said pleadingly. “Stop it. That’s sabotage.”
“Sorry, I will try to be more professional. I’m just very passionate about my work.” Vachlan sighed. “Look, I may have an unconventional task for you after we finish spreading the diseases. I want to pay my buddy Olokun a visit in the Arabian seas. In his culture, women are considered currency. Once we get there, will you allow me to use your body like a common whore?”
“I thought you’d never ask,” Namaka said happily.
“Great! I may have to dress you up and give you to the king of pirates as a sex slave. Would that be cool?”
“Absolutely, sir,” Namaka said immediately. Underneath her calm exterior, she felt a piercing tremor of fear, but she knew Vachlan would not cause her real harm. “I will do anything you command.”
Vachlan smiled. “If we survive this, I’ll have Visola promote you to Colonel.”
“Ha!” Namaka said, with a burst of laughter. “She will never go along with that. She wants to demote me to back-scratcher—or possibly shit-sniffer.”
“I have ways of convincing her to do things,” Vachlan responded, “but only when she already knows that my things are the right things to do.”
Namaka lifted an eyebrow. “Um, so when have you ever done the right thing?”
“I just did.”
“Adlivun is being scouted by the enemy, my queen. You must lead the sisters to defend us.”
“Are there no other defenses?”
“There are, but we must not take the chance.” Mother Melusina’s hand gestures were fierce and absolute. “You must kill all their scouts—if even one man survives, they will rain down on us like locusts…”
“Locusts?”
“Perhaps jellyfish would create a better visual. A swarm of stinging, venomous sea-wasps. The point is that none of Zalcan’s scouts can successfully retain any information about Adlivun. All it takes is one man to bring us down—one lucky man. But we are lucky too, for we have one woman to prevent all of that.”
Aazuria had no choice but to follow the instructions of the priestess. She had worn one of their billowy green dresses over her Kevlar armor, but underneath her amphibious rifle. She had allowed seven of the Sisters of Sedna to guide her out into open waters near the Aleutian Islands, and the women had concealed themselves within the shade of a kelp forest. Seeing the way the dresses easily blended in with the swaying seaweed made Aazuria smile; the spiritual women were certainly crafty and clever.
She just did not understand how they intended to fight without guns or knives.
After waiting in the kelp for several hours, Aazuria began to grow weary of holding her weapon. She could not help wondering if the priestess had given her poor information. She was growing restless and swimming to complain to one of the sisters for the third time when she noticed a bit of movement in the distant darkness. Her eyes keenly began to follow the shapes as they swam closer, trying to differentiate whether they were marine mammals, fish, or humans. Pulling her rifle back into her hands, she repositioned herself within the thick rows of kelp.
Her breathing began to quicken when she saw the considerable numbers of the creature that were approaching; their swimming strokes were even and synchronized, and their formation was militant and purposeful. Swallowing a tiny gulp of seawater Aazuria began to aim and shift the nozzle of her rifle as she silently counted their ranks. It was challenging to get a clear picture of their numbers, for some were swimming in such tight configuration that there were rows of men perfectly concealed behind the ones in front.
This is a scouting party? Aazuria asked herself in shock. There are over a hundred men here. It’s like a small attack. She had faced ridiculous odds before in the past, but never with an unfamiliar group of women she hardly knew. She did not even feel comfortable expressing her concerns to her eccentric, religious companions. She dearly missed the Ramaris sisters, her true warriors and dearest friends. Her lone rifle would not make much of a difference against a hundred Clan soldiers. All that she could do was hide.
So much for being the ‘Sapphire,’ Aazuria thought in disappointment. I’m completely useless. She gave hand signals to the other women to move deeper into the kelp and hide from the soldiers. She was burying herself between the slimy structures when she felt her arm being pulled by one of the sisters. She was startled when the women grasped hold of her and began swimming out of the kelp cover and into the open. She panicked, believing that she had been betrayed by her own people. Were the Sisters of Sedna members of the Clan of Zalcan? She struggled free violently, lashing out at the women with her rifle, hitting one of them in the stomach with the barrel.
“Please stop and trust us, my queen,” signed one of the sisters quickly. “If you will give us your hands, we can stop these scouts quite easily.”
Aazuria was staggered by the innocent foolishness of these women. Wha
t did they intend to do? She saw that the scouts had spotted the women, and were heading in their direction. It would be great if you would show up right about now, Viso. You always used to show up in the nick of time. Tightly gripping her rifle, Aazuria began to fire bullets as soon as she estimated that the men were within range. She fired bullets madly, killing several scouts, but being overwhelmed by the horrible situation that the men were closing in on her quickly, and she would soon be surrounded. The Sisters of Sedna did not seem to have any undersea combat training, and even if they did, they were far too vastly outnumbered to make a difference unarmed.
The men were barely a minute away when Aazuria felt the rifle being ripped out of her hands. She tried to reclaim it, but the sister who had taken the gun placed both of her hands on Aazuria’s face. Her blonde hair was floating around her head while her face wore an impossibly serene expression.
“Trust me, my queen,” her lips said, smiling with effortless wisdom. “Just take our hands.”
Inhaling seawater sharply through her nose, Aazuria knew she had no choice. She allowed the sisters on either side of her to grasp her hands as they turned to face the Clan scouts. Aazuria stared at the dreadful shark’s-tooth symbol on the chests of her enemies as they approached. She could not help silently praying to Sedna for some sort of miracle as the party of scouts closed in on her. She hated praying. It was her fault; she had made a grave error by coming out into open water with only seven unarmed women. She should have gone to Visola and taken a small portion of her army; the scouts were not heavily armed, and were dressed in extremely lightweight armor for ease of movement and speed. They would have been easy to defeat if she had been prepared, but she had placed her trust in the wrong woman. When the scouts were close enough for her to look into the eyes of the man closest to her, Aazuria felt a wave of coldness sweep through her body.
A deafening noise echoed in the water, more piercing than any gunshot. Aazuria clenched her teeth together tightly, closing her eyes reflexively. Her head felt like a pressurized champagne bottle had burst within it, the explosive glass shards fracturing the soft insides of her cranium. For a moment, she felt like she was suspended in nothingness; in the vacuum of space instead of the deep sea. In the next second, the world came rushing back to her, and she was aware of the sublime softness of the women’s hands which she held. She was also aware of a thunderous silence.
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