Sarra stared at the darkness beyond the vehicle, mustering up her courage. She would only have a second, and if she didn’t succeed, she’d truly be a captive.
She glared at the one who watched her, him all wrapped in the dim, overhead light. “If you don’t stop that, I’ll tell my husband that you were leering,” she said.
He shrugged. “I don’t imagine that he could blame me.”
“He’s very jealous,” she threatened.
“With you, Princess Sarra, I know he is,” he said, smiling.
She sat up straight and pointed at the windshield. “Stop!” she screeched.
His eyes left her and she whisked the M-5 out of her boot, surprising both men. “This is set to kill!” she lied. “Lay down your weapons, park, and get out!”
Hastily, they obeyed. She stepped out and followed them warily, and waved them over to stand by a nearby tree. As they stood there, their faces horrified, she had a twinge of sympathy.
“Sorry—I have to. You won’t die.”
She pressed the trigger and they fell, dupes of the maximum stun. She jumped back into the auto, called up the map, found the coordinates, and let the helm guide her to her destination, one she dreaded reaching ...
Taylor hurried down the quiet hallway, running for cover. The attack had rudely interrupted his bed-play with a young chambermaid, and he had tossed the whining girl aside, leaving her to fend for herself. He had hurried into his leggings and made it to the stairway, but at the bottom floor, a laser battle raged. He stood in his indecision, not knowing where to run, but when the rebels broke through the side corridor, he had tore back up the staircase, to safety.
Or, so he thought. A shocking sensation passed through him. He found himself on the carpet, unable to move or speak.
Raine put his M-5 back on the full charge, having used minimum stun to only disable the duke. He picked the shirtless man up by the scruff and rammed him against the wall. Seeing fearful astonishment in the brown eyes, he smiled sardonically, thrusting him through the first doorway near. Gray stumbled, landing on the floor, and two middle-aged women came out of hiding, shrieking hysterically while they fled. Alone with the powerless man, he contemplated if his conscience would allow him to become a cold-blooded murderer.
He crossed his arms and half-sat on a table, patiently waiting for the lord’s convalescence, enjoying the panic on his pompous face. “You slimy scum,” he gibed, deceivingly calm. “Plotting to poison my Sarra. Putting your foul hands on her.”
Taylor gawked at the tall man looming above him. When the numbness left him and he had his tongue back, he figured that it would be wise to beg. “Please don’t kill me! I didn’t poison her—I know nothing about it! I never hurt her!”
“Stand up.”
The duke did, and then began backing away.
Raine aimed his gun. “Go ahead, coward. Try to run.”
Taylor stopped. He didn’t dare. This savage had stolen his betrothed, cut him out of Zenno’s plans, humiliated his pride, and had left him with nothing—and now he wanted to take his life! “You would shoot me in cold blood?” he whined.
Raine chuckled menacingly, setting the M-5 down on the table. “No, I’ll destroy you with my bare hands.”
Taylor shivered in his fear and loathing and rage, knowing that he wouldn’t make it to the door. He lunged for the weapon and was caught in a clinch that strangled his breath. While trying to retaliate, a powerful fist struck into his cheekbone, sending his head spinning. He slid backward and attempted to trip his opponent, but was slammed in the shin with a boot. Taylor howled in agony ... and then was terrified to realize that he was about to be tortured. Green eyes were ablaze with fury, goading him to rise, but he crawled around, groping for the table. Ruthlessly, he was lifted up by his silky, black queue. Knuckles met his nose and lips and he fell against the wall, seeing his red blood splashing upon his naked chest.
Taylor knew that he was in trouble. This man loved Sarra, and he had done her wrong. He staggered away, hoping to evade the charge, but was again jostled about like a toy. There was no choice but to resort to whimpering, to biting and striving to kick at delicate places. He fought on sheer adrenaline, unable to match such incredible strength, certain that he was about to die ...
Sarra gaped at the destruction of her home. The lawns and trees swayed with an ochreous glow, like embers after a conflagration. Disbelieving, she limped through the main entrance, feeling the scorching heat that surrounded the walkway. There were no guards to escort her, for their bodies littered the grounds, shrouded in the dark night. The eerie quiet hastened her steps, and when inside of the palace, her blurred vision was beset with more horrors. She gagged and choked, stumbling through the carnage, appalled by the look of death on many twisted faces.
“Raine!” she cried. “Father!”
Faint sounds caught her ear. Tears gushed down her cheeks as she took that direction ...
Raine tightened his arm around Gray’s throat, squeezing the life from him. Suddenly, the recollection of Sarra’s plea to have the boy imprisoned rang out in his head, cutting through his murderous intent. He let go of him, and the duke slithered to the floor, gasping for air.
“Please don’t kill me!” Taylor sobbed.
Vowing to settle this later, Raine lifted his M-5. Without a word he fired, and Gray went into convulsions before becoming unconscious. Lest he change his mind, he sprinted away.
He moved down the deserted corridor, but then stopped and retraced his steps. Curiosity was drawing him toward the Royal Apartments, and he used his memorization of the palace’s blueprints to find His Majesty’s suite. Surprised that the doors were unlocked and the halls vacated, he guessed that the guards had abandoned their king at the first sign of trouble. He felt like he was about to behold a great discovery ... and was somewhat startled to actually be standing at the foot of the vast, regal bed.
At first, with all the shadows in the dimly lit room, he assumed that the monarch was dead. The man was lying on his back, nearly lost within the bedding. When the faint rise and fall of his chest became evident, Raine let out a sigh of relief, for Sarra. He tried to decipher his emotions that were stirred by the pitiful image.
How could this frail old man have been the object of his hatred? Had he really sworn to spill the royal blood? Not too long ago, the need for retaliation had burned within him, even though he knew that his kin—a kind and forgiving lot—would never have wanted their deaths avenged by violence. It was well that he had learned the truth about the blameless sovereign, or he would have shamed his father’s name.
Reflecting on his mission, he realized just how wrong and foolish he had been. He had intended to kidnap the princess, ransom her in exchange for the mines and guns, denounce the corrupt in front of all Urania, and restore his family’s honor. He’d have made Adriel revolt against the evil sovereignty and elect a new govern. It had seemed like a simple plan. But nothing had been easy since setting eyes on the king’s fiery and headstrong daughter. And, Glover had confused matters—it was yet to be clear, why. Howbeit, he didn’t hate him, now—he was grateful. If not for what the traitor had done, he would never have found the joy of his life.
“Sarra,” he said aloud.
Raine heard the horn that was droning from a great distance away, signifying that the Revolutionaries had taken over the palace’s command control. It was over.
Suddenly, his shoulders slumped, him being overwhelmed by his exhaustion. He looked out the window, out on the Aurora Sea all cloaked in the night, down at the dark waves that crashed upon the rocky shore. He wondered why he didn’t feel euphoric—or even triumphant—about his victory.
“Are you here to kill me, young man? Or did you come for the royal view?”
Quickly, he turned to see startlingly clear gray eyes. While the king sat up—a task challenging for one so weak—he fought off the urge to assist him.
The monarch rasped, “So, which is it?”
“You are safe
with me, Your Majesty,” he replied, and noted how the disappointment came onto the pale, wrinkled face. The man didn’t fear death—he seemed to want it.
“Who are you, sir?”
“I am your daughter’s husband,” he said simply.
The king appeared to already know this. “Yes, the Revolutionary Commander. She did want us to meet. Leave it to Sarra to start a war if she doesn’t get her way. Where is my little princess?”
Sarra was calling out his name when she burst into his apartment. She saw Raine standing there and flew into his embrace. She let out a glad cry and rushed to her father, and they both laughed and cried in the glorious reunion ... and their joy was made complete when Alma was freed from her quarters, and when the people who were loyal to justice knew that righteousness had won.
The winds came, sighing in relief, scouring the land and blowing away weary strife to make Adriel clean for a new beginning.
***
Before the dawn, Queen’s Palace was already clearing away the ravages of war. Sarra couldn’t sleep, not wanting to miss a moment. This was her dream come true. Her father’s spirits were high and she just knew that he would get stronger, now that the corrupted medics had been exposed. She even dared to hope that her family would someday treat Raine like one of their own. After everybody overcame the initial awkwardness, her husband, her father and her aunt, talked, having many questions and finding many answers. The king, though grudgingly, respected Raine, understanding now what the Revolutionaries were all about. Her good fortune filled her with awe.
Howbeit, there was a sobering note in all of the cheerfulness. Seventy-four people—mostly rebels and innocents—had lost their lives. But, they had not died in vain, and future generations would never forget their ultimate sacrifice. For posterity, there was another matter to be taken care of, and she took to her duty with gusto.
With the help of Myles Brogan, her image was seen in every Adrielian dwelling. She told the subjects her story, and after Zenno was interrogated, Raine made the man tell his. His swollen eyes read the script given him, having no choice but to face his humiliation.
“I, Otis Zenno, His Majesty’s Private Secretary, have betrayed the subjects of Adriel. I have been corrupted by greed, as have all of the King’s Advisors—Clyde Barlow, Millard Fairfax—” His voice cracked as he went down the list. “And there are others. We are all guilty of horrendous crimes. We had sole control of the rainbow mines’ riches and made the laborers slaves to our cause. We have murdered those who have threatened us, poisoning the inhabitants of Tyler Oaks to destroy Royce Tyler and his sympathizers. The Revolutionaries were against us, working to condemn us. They have defeated us. All who were involved in the depravity will be held accountable. There is no punishment great enough to suffice for what we have done to His Majesty, the Princess Sarra, and all of the good people of Adriel,” he ended, weeping and broken.
The uproar that followed the broadcast was one of incredible proportion. Outraged citizens everywhere were calling for the immediate execution of the oppressors. Sarra allayed their anger, saying that the men would be imprisoned until their sentences could be rightly served. Secretly, she wanted to postpone the ordeal until her father regained his strength. And, she didn’t want more death—right now—to mar the Revolutionaries’ triumph.
The slaves were free. Adriel was again a place that had justice for all.
***
Sarra didn’t know why she should, but she felt strange being with Raine in her own bed. Her father and aunt couldn’t get accustomed to the idea either, them both uncomfortable with the fact that she was married. Even her husband was rather cautious with her, like he expected that the locked door would fly open and someone would drag him away. It took the fires of passion to make them feel alone ... and when satiated in the afterglow, they savored their privacy.
Raine sighed. “The cruel fate of the consort of Her Royal Highness. Eyes everywhere, even when they’re not,” he complained, though not too heavily.
Sarra bit her lip, needing to ask him. “What about the divorce we planned?”
He stiffened. “Do you want it?”
“Do you?”
“I asked you first.”
She shook her head and laid her cheek back down on his warm breast. “No, I don’t.”
He pulled her closer. “You’re mine for life.”
Her soft crimson lips curved upward in a warm smile, her senses brimming and reeling.
“Ah, Sarra,” he sighed. “What have I burdened you with? I’m a simple man, no better than a fool in how I let my hatred and selfishness blind me. I wanted to believe what you overheard me telling Darius, that I despised you, but I didn’t. You were under my skin the first time I touched you, and I despised my weakness. Lying to myself is something I will never be a master at. You endured my brutal moods with your regal grace when at every turn I abused you.”
“I had my own lies,” she said simply.
“You? I’ve never met a woman as honest. The people wouldn’t be free now, if not for their princess.”
“You saved my life, risking your own. And you rescued Father. You freed Adriel, not me.”
He chuckled softly. “We agree to disagree. Still, there’s work to be done. I am the Revolutionary Commander, even if there’s no need for us anymore. I’ll be gone for a while, seeing to a few matters.”
She frowned, dreading his absence.
“Sarra, there’s something that I should tell you.”
Sarra was tired of talk. If he had to leave soon, she would make every moment count. In an impulse to play, she implored him with her nakedness and kissed him long and calculatingly. She drew away, and smiling mischievously, she sprang lithely off the bed, her fair, silken skin gleaming in the radiant daylight that glowed within the chamber. She moved before the large window, stretching like a lazy feline, giving him tempting views. She felt the sparks coming from his hot green eyes while he ravished her.
Raine’s breath came faster while he watched. With her golden hair all gorgeous about her and her dark-blue eyes glowing, he was reminded of another time, at the cabin on Myrrh—all she lacked was her crown of flowers. Back then he had believed that he could escape her—thought that she was just another plaything to leave behind. But he had never before known such great love for a woman, and thinking that he was somehow immune to tender emotion, he wasn’t aware of the symptoms. She had weaved her way into his own essence, casting him under her spell. He would never again be free—but he would be a fool to want to be.
He held out his hand invitingly. “Come here, Aphrodite.”
She heard, but had a grand time ignoring him. He rose and went to her, and bent down dramatically on a knee.
“If I would have known your heart, woman, I would have bowed from the start.”
“On your feet, savage. Show your disrespect,” she softly teased.
They laughed brightly as he swooped her up and carried her back to the bed, him tossing her there to lustily torture her. His brilliant eyes flooded her soul with light and his searing kisses set the whiteness shining ...
The revelation came to her, one she had known all along from the incessant whispers in the far corners of her mind. She didn’t try to deny it, now. Her spirit, so restless and headstrong, had lacked something, but she could never quite figure out what it was. She had lacked her other half. This was her beloved, her adventure just begun. Her acceptance didn’t bring fear, as she had dreaded, it gave her courage. She was free to say the words aloud. “I love you.”
“I love you,” he echoed hoarsely.
The confessions drove them to new heights and they meshed in an ethereal oneness, exploring the path of truth that few lovers find, sunlit and without shadows.
***
Gray eyes were dark with intense hatred while watching the suffering king. The monarch became silent and still, unconscious from the induced coma, and the man chortled while he dropped the injection dispenser into his pocket. He congratulated h
imself for his cunning. All it took to get in the Royal Apartment was a medic’s coat as a disguise and a stolen computer pass. His Majesty’s security guards believed that Adriel was at peace. If they only knew!
The sneer lashed out on his face. “I’ll be back for you, old man. First, I have to kill your daughter.”
Chapter 26
The late morning sun shone with a brightness that made Raine glad to be alive. The verdant valleys and fragrant meadows languorously welcomed the heat, the animal inhabitants content with an idle day. He also wanted to be lazy, but wasn’t so fortunate. He had torn himself away from Sarra at dawn, leaving a note for when she woke. Already he had visited two rainbow mines and was pleased to find that the relocating of the former slaves was progressing better than he planned. The caverns had been vacated, the industry on hold until decisions about its fate could be made. The people would have new dwellings, and find the joys that come with being free members of society. This is what he had worked for, and seeing their beaming faces, he did feel his triumph, but he still had questions nagging him.
He was on his way to the Revolutionary Headquarters to find the answers. It was odd how he only had to request it and the Palace Medics themselves delivered the truth serum. He checked the time, hoping that he would be able to hear some of Glover’s confessions firsthand.
Darius was waiting for him by the door. He waved him inside and promptly escorted him down the hall. “Good—you’re here. This is strange. We have the wrong man.”
“What?”
“We gave Glover the serum and he didn’t fight it. In his hypnotic state we learned that his real name is Garth Dyer. Two of his friends died at Tyler Oaks—like he told us when he joined the cause—but his brother is a FAS pilot and he didn’t want us to know about it for what we would think. He hasn’t talked to his brother for over three years. He never contacted the FAS or King Erasmas—he doesn’t know anything about the sequence of the garbled message. If you could have heard him, you’d know that he’s telling the truth. But, what puzzles me is why did the transmission to the FAS come from his room?”
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