Queen of the Stars

by Lorelei Orion

  “I know,” he soothed. “It’s all right.”

  Sarra closed her eyes for a moment, trying to get a grip on the situation. “What happened?”

  Seeing how the drug was gone from her and she was herself again, he said, “They gave you poison, Sarra.”

  She recalled the injections and the nightmarish darkness. “Zenno!”

  “He, and others. They planned to take your life when the time was right.”

  “What?” she breathed.

  “They gave you a drug that’s of the newest technology, since the medic had never seen its effects before.” Angrily, quietly he added, “They will die, for that.”

  A new panic struck her. “My father! Where is he?”

  “In the palace, but—”

  “I’ve got to go to him!” she cried, struggling to rise from the bed.

  “Sarra, wait—they won’t harm him now. Not while you’re free.”

  “How ... how do you know?”

  “The advisors need you back. They’re offering a great reward for your return. They’re telling all of Urania that you’re deranged, in case you should talk to the masses. But they have to know that you will expose them if they harm the king, now.”

  “But ... what do I do? My father and aunt are there with them!”

  “We’ll free them. Don’t you worry.”

  Sarra was overwhelmed. He had saved her life, and now he would help her family. “But, how?” she murmured. “How did you? Escaping the palace and coming for me ... The royal uniform ...?”

  He smiled, smoothing her soft hair. “I told you before, Sarra, that the snare will never hold me. And how could I leave behind my wife, the mother of my child?” He was quiet a moment, and then asked, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  She turned her face away, guilty and embarrassed.

  “It was surprising news, though I was very pleased to hear about it. Were you?”

  She glanced at his expectant eyes. She sensed that he was being truthful and repaid him in kind. “I wasn’t—at first. But yes, I am. Since ... well ... he’s yours.”

  He touched the ever so slight rounding of her waist, exploring carefully. “I’m a lucky man,” he whispered.

  “Still, the future ... the Throne ...” she stammered. “I don’t know ...”

  “Tomorrow will take care of itself. We’re together today.”

  His lips met hers with a gentle kiss. Savoring his tenderness, her tongue grew stronger as her passion began to rule. He resisted, and rose.

  “You should rest,” he cautioned.

  Raine gazed down on her sensuous beauty, her long golden hair that was tousled all about her in exquisite disarray, her tired, heavy-lidded, dark-blue eyes. He longed to nudge her back and make love to her until his strength was gone. But within the past hours she had been vulnerable and helpless, and in such agony. The past day and night had been the longest of his life, when he had held her in his arms, fearing that he would lose her. The medic had been unable to do anything for her. He had flushed out her system, but the drug, one aiming to destroy the cranial substance, had taken hold. They could do nothing but wait until the poison left her and pray that her sanity would remain intact.

  In her delirium she had confessed her private emotions, stirring quite a protective instinct within him. She would never again be just a woman with whom he could satisfy himself with, she was his wife and she carried his child. He must accept his responsibility, and he did so, wholeheartedly.

  She had suffered so much. He would be an abominable brute to take her right now.

  Enamored by the devotion in his eyes, Sarra sat up on her knees and slid her hands behind his nape, drawing him down. It took one long, deliberate kiss to get him beside her on the bed ... and then they were bare, writhing in emotion, a gift both had feared they’d never know again.

  ***

  The sun was setting when Sarra woke alone, hearing voices in the next room. She hastily dressed in her nightgown and hurried to join them. Darius and Cronala were happy to see her, and they weren’t a bit surprised by Raine’s affection when he casually put his arm around her. The mood was festive, everyone being relieved that she was well. Howbeit, she still felt drained and weak, and sensing this, the couple took an early leave. When again naked in the bed, she snuggled up to Raine, content just to let him hold her.

  He sat up and flicked on a light. “Sarra, there is something I need to know. At the palace ... were you ... did you ...?”

  She eyed him quizzically. “What?”

  “Were you with Taylor Gray?”

  A blush came to heat her cheeks. “Do you mean ... in bed with him?”

  He curled his lips and nodded.

  She laughed, nervously. “Why would you ask that?”

  Raine was almost certain that Gray had told him lies, but he felt uneasy. She had called out the man’s name in her delirium. “Were you? He said so.”

  “He did? No, I wasn’t! He tried to, but—”

  “He tried! How?”

  “He thought I might, but I kicked him, and—”

  He gripped her arms. “Rape? He tried to rape you?”

  She wondered if she should tell him about it, or not.

  “He put his hands on you!”

  She couldn’t deny it.

  Raine cursed and leapt up, stalking about as he worked to control his rage. “The man will die,” he whispered coldly. “I’ll make him ... slow and painful ...”

  Sarra gaped at him, bemused by his jealousy. “Leave it be!” she protested earnestly. “Nothing really happened.”

  “He touched you,” he said flatly, his mind made up.

  He turned to see her wide blue eyes. He must tell her, although he knew that she’d be upset. “Sarra, I’m going back to the palace with the Revolutionary Army. The time has come.”

  “What? You plan to storm Queen’s Palace? You’ll be killed!”

  “No. We’ll have guns. Many guns.”

  “But, you can’t! And all this talk of murdering Taylor—he’s really no more than a boy no matter what his age!” she said, not wanting his death on her conscience—he would get what he deserved on his Judgment Day. “He should be imprisoned, like the others! And if you attack—my family ...”

  He sat down beside her. “We will do all that we can to see that the innocent aren’t harmed. Your father’s guards will protect him, whether they side with the advisors, or not. We have a strategy that will cause the fewest casualties on both sides.”

  Sarra thought that she had a better way. “Why can’t I just tell the subjects what’s going on? If they hear it from me about the corruption, they’ll accept it as truth. I’ll have the Royal Guard imprison Zenno.”

  “You mean the same Royal Guard that was imprisoning you?”

  She hadn’t really thought about that. It was true that no one in the palace—aside from her family—could be trusted.

  “No,” he said. “It’s better to get at the corruption from the inside. The subjects might not believe you right now, with what the advisors have told them. After all, you are conspiring with a Revolutionary.”

  She bit her bottom lip. “When?”

  “I’m leaving tomorrow.”

  “I want to go with you.”

  “It’s too dangerous. You’ll be safe here.”

  Sarra realized that he was adamant. The wheels in her head began turning ... working ...

  In a late night hour, while she slept, Raine was alone in the quiet outdoors, staring up at the sky. The dark canopy eased him, perhaps because his mood was also black. He held his M-5 tightly in his hand.

  “The time for patience has past,” he whispered. “It has come to war.”

  He searched the Heavens for light.

  “Father and Mother ... Nathan and Sophie, and young Alec ... sweet sister, Celeste ... All of our relatives, alive or gone. This will avenge you.”

  He lifted his weapon high into the air.

  “I have found my star. Even if I join you
soon, Father, forevermore I shall live for my queen.”

  Chapter 25

  Queen’s Palace loomed like a darkened castle, an omen atop the distant plateau, shrouded in the dim of the setting sun. The mists billowed out from the Aurora Sea, veiling the valley that lie between the fortress and the crusaders. Raine glanced up at the twilight and down at his watch; it wouldn’t be long now.

  The three regiments of the Revolutionary Army were moving stealthily into attack formation. Almost three hundred men would vent their repressed rage on the government that had destroyed their loved ones—their hopes and dreams—and end the conflict that had begun so long ago. Every soldier prepared for death but prayed for life, and Raine was no exception. He had left Sarra hours ago, but his lips were still warm from her passionate good-bye kiss. If the battle should take him, he would fall a destitute man, separated from vengeance—and the joys of the heart.

  A disturbance behind him caught his attention. What he saw sparked his alarm. Sarra shrieked and kicked and cursed while a rebel carried her near. The man seemed to doubt that the honor of his duty was worth the beating.

  “We found her in the back of an auto, Commander,” he grunted out.

  “Put me down!” she raged.

  Her wish was obeyed, but then she was in Raine’s hands. “Dammit, Sarra! I told you to stay behind! Don’t you ever listen?”

  “No!” she cried, wresting herself away. “This is my home! If you’re going to destroy it, I want to be here!”

  He held her at arm’s length, devouring her defiant, dark-blue eyes and the comely flush the excitement had put back in her cheeks. She, like he, was dressed entirely in black, the Revolutionary uniform, and he couldn’t help but notice the alluring fit. “I should have known when you didn’t protest,” he uttered hotly. “You are too stubborn, woman, for your own good! What—were you just going to hide until you were in the palace and in the middle of the crossfire?”

  “Yes! No! I can take care of myself!”

  His eyes bored disparagingly into hers while he motioned to the soldier. “Take her back to her suite.”

  She sprang into action, snatching his arm and clinging to it. “No—I want to be with you! If you send me away now, I’ll just find another way back!”

  He resorted to pleading. “Sarra, think of the baby. It’s too dangerous!”

  “You said that you had a plan—a safe one! Ohhhh! I knew you’d be as reckless as ever! I’m going with you or you can’t go either. The child would rather end with me than live without his father!”

  “Sarra ...” he warned.

  “Commander!” a voice called. “We must set off for the boundary now!”

  Raine checked the time and swore vehemently. “Wife, you will be the death of us all.”

  Sarra delighted in her victory when sitting in the back of the moving vehicle, with Raine and two other men up front. While they whispered amongst themselves, she strained to hear. And, when the auto abruptly stopped and Raine hopped out, she bolted for the door—it was already locked! She saw his shameless, unpardonable face as the auto jerked forward.

  “No!” she wailed. “Let me out!”

  “Sorry, Your Royal Highness,” one apologized. “Raine’s orders. We’re not to let you out of our sight.”

  The man proceeded to do just this, turning his seat halfway around while letting the driver concentrate on the controls. He was happy with his duty, taking the words literally, and his dark eyes watched her, though with a sufficient amount of respect. Sarra clenched her teeth, fuming from Raine’s trickery. She vowed to be vindicated with the M-5 that she had hidden in her boot beneath her leggings—this would force her to take drastic measures!

  Raine took charge in his speedy vehicle, reviewing the battle plans with the five soldiers. A great weight lifted from him now that he wouldn’t have Sarra around to caution his steps. He recalled when he had abducted her, when he had expected an easy ransom. But, treacherous Glover had complicated matters, and it was the King’s Advisors—and not the king—who needed to be uprooted. It had come to war.

  He had summoned up the majority of the Revolutionaries. They now had the means and the firepower, successful in fixing the stolen guns. These M-5s were set on the maximum stun, for there wasn’t any way of knowing exactly whom the enemy was until after the smoke cleared. But certainly the Royal Guard would shoot to kill—it was, after all, faster than a trial and execution.

  He felt confident that the rebels were determined to fight to the end. They’d have the advantage of a surprise attack, though, of course, one couldn’t sneak an entire army onto the estate. The three regiments were ready to strike from every direction but the north. The spies within the palace had set explosive devices at the main gates, the southern outpost. Upon detonation, the massive combustion would call the majority of the royal soldiers into battle, the diversion giving the other two regiments the time needed to get at the courtyards from the east and west. The explosive devices had also been set at these sentry points, to drop the roadblock shields with the precise blasts. His own brigade planned to enter from the west, pressing through the war zone until triumph was theirs.

  His heart drummed swiftly—there was less than a minute left! He was gambling on the choreography, hoping that the trio of troops all rushing simultaneously would be detected too late, and offset the garrison before they could deploy the principle laser bank.

  “Oh, God!” a soldier exclaimed. “Here it—”

  The darkness came alight with a thunderous roar. More peals rang out, setting the southern sky ablaze, the orange fireballs mushrooming high. Raine didn’t have long to wait; minor explosions broke out in the fortified blockhouse, sabotaging the invisible west gates and clearing the way. The vehicle sped past the boundary line, followed by eighteen others ... and soon the square was alive with pandemonium.

  Raine raised his weapon, sporting a war cry. “To victory!”

  The bomb claps threatened the palace’s massive chandeliers and shook the foundation. Screams echoed off the grand walls and ceilings while the people scrambled for shelter. As they fled, many innocents were brought down, falling to the ornate floors, caught in the crossfire between the assailants and the Royal Guard. Some were fortunate enough to find safety, scrambling into places the combat hadn’t yet reached, hiding behind pillars, beneath tables—anything that would protect them from the terrifying lasers. Others were in the brunt of the clash, dropping when the blue-green energy waves arced out and touched them. The battle raged on ...

  At three ends of the palace, the mansion with six hundred and four rooms, the Revolutionaries worked like insane men. They had the benefit of unmitigated resolve, but their formidable foe strove to hold them back, having superior vantage points from which to resist. Within all the chaos—of the flashing beams and hissing sparks—the defenders lost ground.

  The king’s men couldn’t know that the aggressors’ weapons were set only to stun, their own being fatal. Never before faced with such annihilating enmity, they panicked, seeing their elite compatriots cut down. Perhaps, they felt that this was a vain struggle; King Ellis was dying and Princess Sarra was lost. Perhaps, the God-fearing sensed the righteous need for justice in the revolutionists. Many began running, tripping over each other, retreating even before the enemy had reached the palace’s interior to search out the leaders of the sovereignty ...

  Zenno attempted to shut the Conference Room’s doors, but another man slipped through, locking them in and leaving their partners in crime defenseless beyond.

  “Zenno!” Dawson wheezed. “What will we do? They’ll kill us!”

  “Seal off the back way, you coward!” he hissed.

  The man quaked too much, unable to obey, and Zenno scurried over to the rear entrance and secured the lock.

  “But, we’ll be trapped!” Dawson cried, sobbing hysterically. “Oh, no! Let me out! Let me go!”

  Zenno snatched his M-5 and fired. Dawson shuddered grotesquely before he fell, dead. When t
he electrocuting current was gone, Zenno kicked the body in front of the entry for a barricade. He had no remorse that he had ended a loyal man, he only regretted that he hadn’t kept him alive for use as a shield if the assassins should break in.

  Zenno feared that nothing could save his regime now. The FAS couldn’t fire on the palace, and the Royal Guard was no match for the rebels—they must have somehow fixed the guns! He had taken it upon himself to disregard the king’s idea of dummy weapons, hoping to destroy the rebels with self-destructing M-5s, certain that they hadn’t the intelligence or means to correct it. How could he have been so wrong! And how could their leader start a war so soon after escaping? He had been in the process of setting up a trap for him, but then the princess was taken—and now this! How unfair it was that he had been so patient, so meticulous, and in a day one dissident was jeopardizing everything that he had worked for! He could never salvage his rule and control the subjects if they learned the truth about the rainbow mines!

  A cold sweat broke out on his wrinkled brow. His gnarled knuckles grew white around his weapon while he searched for a place to hide, and he trembled in his hatred, cowering beneath a table, waiting ...

  Raine took care to avoid the laser that periodically licked the wall like blue flames. He used his own M-5, counteracting the opposing blasts while inching his way toward the end of the hall, toward the enclosed inner courtyard. He peered around the corner and dodged the onslaught, but in that instant he saw that a few guards had thrown down a long table, protected by it while they defended the massive staircase that led up to the floor above. The Royal Apartments—and the Advisors’ Quarters—were there, places he was intent on conquering.

  The attention abruptly left him when a band of Revolutionaries broke through the side corridor. They had a direct line of fire on the enemy who had no choice but to flee the shelter and storm them, bringing the battle out into the open. Raine fought with renewed vigor while the barbarous cries and slashing static bolts filled the square. From the corner of his eye, he saw a tall figure flying up the staircase. Realizing whom it was, he knew that there was a God, One bent on justice. He raced after Taylor Gray even before the area was won, blinded by vengeance ...