“You trust him?” she asked Nick.
“He’s highly recommended, highly selective about the assignments he’ll accept. I’ve worked with him once or twice. We’re damn lucky he was available and willing to talk to us.” Nick squeezed her shoulder as he walked past to get himself a second cup of coffee. “He’s probably the only man alive who knows anything about the Red Lady’s order and will talk about it.”
“I’ll be happy to reimburse you for his fee. If I don’t have enough credits, I can ask my father for a loan on the business…” She struck herself in the forehead lightly. “Speaking of which, if I want to have a business, I’d better call my associates, let them know I’m fine. See how much damage my disappearance from the party did.”
“There’s been nothing on the news,” Mara said. “I’ve been monitoring the major broadcasts and gossip feeds. The people who work for you must have decided discretion was the best tactic.”
“I have a good team.” A small rush of pride flooded Twilka’s mind over the staff selections she’d made. Lissa was top notch, could probably run the entire business on her own, and Jord had finely honed deal making skills. If we save Khevan, I could step away from all of it, let them run the company, maybe just do the designing and a few appearances. Admonishing herself not to think too far ahead, she sipped her coffee. Nick and Mara had provisioned the Space Dragon’s mess with the pure, Terran blend, which she knew for a fact cost pound for pound about as much as a small spaceship, if it could be obtained at all. The Sectors’ military had first priority. Either the Jamesons’ combined freight and security businesses were doing exceedingly well, or Mara was working decidedly unofficial contacts. Or both.
Rafferty re-entered the mess. “The D’nvannae ship cleared the atmosphere an hour ago. Are we following?”
“That’s the plan,” Nick said. “Set course for Temple Home. If you want to talk to your people, Twilka, do it before we hit hyperdrive.”
The flight to Temple Home was uneventful and felt unbearably long to Twilka. She tried to lose herself in designing, but kept drawing Khevan’s face. Nick and especially Mara did their best to distract her, but the truth was none of them had any idea what awaited them on Temple Home.
“I wish we’d asked the Renegade more about what we’d have to do to rescue Khevan,” she said one evening at dinner.
“He might not know until he learns more at the central temple,” Nick said reasonably.
“So, do you use the Space Dragon as your private ship now?”
He laughed. “Wish I could afford the luxury. The security business is doing well, but I’m not as rich as a generational billionaire yet. No, Rafferty and Casey agreed to help out with this one for old time’s sake. I figured we’d need all the firepower we could get to take on the Red Lady.”
“They do a lot of shipping runs for me,” Mara said. “I promised they’d never be at a loss for cargo and I keep my word.”
“Could we be refused landing rights on Temple Home?” Twilka voiced one of her primary concerns.
“No problem. I obtained special clearance from the Lady in White’s temple,” Nick said. “No one can override her approval, not even her sister.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
As the Space Dragon arrived in orbit and Rafferty argued with planetary authorities about landing rights, Nick received a message from the Renegade, notifying them he’d be ready to discuss options as soon as the ship was gear down at the spaceport.
Sure enough, he came aboard within minutes of the landing and Casey escorted him to where Twilka and the others waited in the mess.
“Have you seen him? Is he all right?” She was pacing, unable to sit still, and whirled to confront Quaid as he crossed the threshold into the dining chamber.
“I have not seen him yet, but I have been assured he’s fine. A little worse for wear, perhaps, which is to be expected. Harbin was zealous in his mission to capture Khevan and bring him home to the Lady.” Quaid glanced around the mess. “Do you have any coffee made? My throat is dry from all the talking I’ve been doing since I got to Temple Home.”
Casey set a mug of freshly brewed coffee on the table and retreated to the kitchen area.
After sliding into the empty chair in front of the mug, Quaid stretched his long legs, took a drink of the coffee, and murmured his satisfaction. Head tilted, eyes narrowed, he examined Twilka. “You may as well sit. This discussion will take time and you’re hovering like a small bird of prey.”
She yanked a chair out and plunked herself next to Mara. “I want to be in action, going to see him, getting him out of there, not sitting here drinking coffee.”
“Patience,” Quaid said. “I’ve had an audience with the Red Lady. She’s extremely angry over Khevan’s betrayal of his oath for a second time. He’s been sentenced to death, of course, and she’s devising the means, fueled by every drop of venom and hate in her being. He will be made to suffer for a protracted time and beg for death repeatedly before she’s done. No human can withstand the full brunt of her fury.”
“So there’s no hope?” Twilka felt hot tears spill. I haven’t cried this much in my entire life. Got to get a grip here. She swiped her cheeks.
“I didn’t say anything remotely so dire.” He held up one hand as his lips twitched in obvious amusement. “Patience isn’t your strong suit, is it? I believe there’s one possibility.”
“Remote, judging by your tone.” Nick reached over and clasped Mara’s hand. “What do we need to do?”
“I spent considerable time in the library at the Temple of the Lady in White and consulted with her Senior Monk before I approached the goddess of flames.” He held up a hand and stared at Twilka. “No, the Lady in White won’t help. This is between her sister goddess and a man who swore an oath he now wants to break. Try to remember, no matter how much you love him, his sworn word is the crux of the matter.”
Nodding, biting her lip, Twilka forced herself to say nothing.
He studied her for a moment, then relented as he addressed her in a softer voice. “I understand neither of you takes his oath breaking lightly. I understand you love each other. I’m impressed by the ferocity and depth of your connection. I envy the bond. But we need to remember the Red Lady is completely within her rights here.”
Twilka wiped her cheeks. “So what do we do now?”
“I had a faint memory, which I confirmed with her sister’s people, that opened the door to a single, dangerous possibility. Khevan is an extremely senior Brother. At his level, he has the right, under the Lady’s own laws, to request a ceremony known as merdamier in her language—that’s the closest a human can come to the pronunciation,” he said as if in apology.
“You mentioned that to us before,” Twilka said. “What exactly is involved?”
“I’ve refreshed my memory and confirmed a few details. Merdamier is a series of challenges, set for the Brother by the Lady, which he must overcome in the space of one night, from sunset to sunrise. If he fails at any of the challenges, he dies. It is a clean, quick death.”
Twilka preferred to focus on possibilities. “And if he survives?”
“He goes free, his oath is sundered, and his connection to the Red Lady severed, which is what is desired in this case, of course.”
“What kind of tests?” asked Mara.
“And where would we come into it?” Nick wanted to know. “Or do we?”
“The Red Lady is an alien being, immeasurably old, with control over space and time. She can set any challenge she desires,” Quaid said. “Anything she thinks will cause the petitioner to fail. As far as we can tell, the petitioner is physically transported to whatever environment she creates for each test. Real, for all intents and purposes, but yet not occurring in the actual world as we know it.”
“So she could plunge him into a solar flare or something?” Twilka said in horror. “How are these rules fair?”
“As far as we could tell from the old documents in the library, the tests must be ro
oted in the petitioner’s experiences to a certain extent. So he has a measurable chance of winning through each one, no matter how slight. Although the final phase of the last challenge—if he survives to reach the closing moments of the night—will most likely be mortal combat, because the basis of her organization is physical life and death. The records are vague about the final resolution, probably because so few have ever survived. This ceremony has been invoked rarely, as you might expect. The White Lady’s Senior Monk has volunteered to act as a neutral party, by the way, and monitor the proceedings.”
“And us?” Nick asked again. “How can we help Khevan?”
“The petitioner is allowed, encouraged even, to have one to three comrades in arms who will stand with him and help him—or hinder him as the case may be—in the challenges.” The Renegade stared at them over the lip of his coffee mug, one eyebrow raised, as if asking a question.
“I’ll stand with him through the entire ordeal,” Twilka said. “It’s my right—my duty. It’s our problem, not Nick and Mara’s.”
“I’d be the most likely to survive,” Nick said. “I’ve been in mortal combat more than once. I’m not trying to insult you ladies, but going up against D’nvannae Brothers in hand-to-hand combat isn’t for the untrained, no matter how valiant.”
“Before we continue, I need to caution you that if the comrade dies in the challenge environment the Red Lady creates, the person perishes in real life as well.” Quaid took a sandwich from a tray Casey brought to the table. “The risks are as high for you as they are for Khevan. The Lady will show no mercy.”
“Doesn’t matter. I’ll take the chance,” Nick said.
“I’m not afraid,” Twilka spoke on top of his words.
“I’m in. I can handle myself.” Mara was less outspoken, but pugnaciously determined.
“Raff and I can help.” Casey leaned on the bulkhead. “We don’t know Khevan as well as these guys do, but he’s a stand up warrior and he’d do the same for us.”
The Renegade shook his head. “Your willingness to stand with your friend does you all honor. As it happens, the Lady has set the stakes. She believes each of you three played a role in Khevan straying from her path, although, of course, she blames Twilka most of all. She’ll allow only the three of you, one for each challenge—Mara first, Nick next, and Twilka last, which would be the stage with mortal combat. I believe the first challenge is the most survivable. She may even try to win him to her side once more.”
“So she thinks I’m the least of us?” Mara said, stiffening her spine and frowning. “I’m not sure I like that.”
Quaid remained unruffled. “I know she has the least animosity toward you. One should never try too hard to outthink the Red Lady.”
“What does a D’nvannae Brother who participates on the side of the oath breaker get out of it? Wouldn’t the Lady be angry with them?” Twilka asked.
“It can be a way to curry her favor. What if Harbin, for example, volunteered? Would you trust him to watch Khevan’s back? His ‘six’ as our friend Nick would say?”
Mouth dropping open, she fell against the chair cushions for a second before she said, “Only to stab him.”
“Exactly. Thus pleasing the Lady. Or, if a Brother was a true ally of Khevan’s, he might win the Lady’s respect through a valiant showing in the challenges. The point is moot because she can override his right to select his allies and she has chosen the three of you, in that order. You can, of course, refuse.”
Khevan sat on the cot in the cold cell, wondering how much longer the Lady intended to keep him in suspense before she killed him. If she was waiting for him to change his mind, it would be a cold day in hell. She’d have to administer more years of torture and now she understands nothing she can do to me will change my love for Twilka. The goddess would surely decree such unforgivable rebellion needed a dramatic end. Probably a public execution, as an example to anyone else thinking about straying. Or to intimidate anyone among my allies who didn’t switch sides fast enough. He was mildly curious whether she was going to consume him with her flames or have Harbin execute him in a staged battle after she’d tortured him enough to slake her anger and thirst for revenge.
At least I managed to save Twilka. Her life was out of his hands now, but the Red Lady kept her word, no matter what her other qualities might be. There’d be no further retribution against the human woman, not unless someone new took out a contract on her. With a small flicker of happiness that threatened to break his iron self-control he indulged in a moment of memory, savoring the thought of how soft and warm his beloved’s skin felt to touch. At least we had one chance to make things right between us. She knows how much she meant to me.
He hadn’t told her the entire truth—when he’d emerged from the hell the Red Lady put him through to reindoctrinate him, he’d come close to going rogue and killing the man he believed had taken his place in Twilka’s life. Realizing his hands were clenched into fists as the fury of the memory rode him, he took a deep breath and rolled his shoulders. Only the belief in her happiness, the conviction she didn’t think of him anymore, had enabled Khevan to master his jealous rage at the time. A portion of the emotion was undoubtedly spillover from the Red Lady’s influence, but jealousy had burned a hole in his heart. Thinking Twilka cared for another man the way he wanted her to love him had been like a wound to his heart that never healed. But her happiness and safety were his paramount concerns, no matter what, so he’d made himself stay away from wherever she was reported to be. He kept up with any crumb of news he could glean about her.
And now I know the truth of her love for me. So much time lost, wasted, because of the Red Lady. I gave her my oath in good faith so many years ago—why can’t she be gracious and release me after all I’ve done in her name? Is that so much for a loyal servant to ask? He straightened, pushing away the regrets that he and Twilka wouldn’t have the opportunity to build a life together. As unlikely a couple as the two of them seemed on the surface, somehow they belonged to each other. He could go to his death with that certainty as comfort.
He worried about the way he’d had to leave her, injured and helpless in the alley after Harbin struck her. I hope I get one final chance at the bastard, if the Lady decrees any kind of contest between us as part of my death. He wished there was a way to know for sure Twilka was all right, safely rescued from the streets by Nick and Mara. Not knowing how she was recovering tore at him.
Creaking and groaning from the cumbersome, old fashioned wooden cell door startled him. He wasn’t allowed visitors and this wasn’t his one daily mealtime. The door swung open as two Brothers, bristling with weapons, stepped into the chamber, staring at Khevan as if daring him to try an attack. He stayed on the cot, hands behind his head, affecting unconcern, not wasting his breath on asking any questions. If it was time to meet his fate, he’d find out soon enough. This low ranking pair weren’t here to kill him.
Harbin sauntered across the threshold, smiling, as always, at the sight of his imprisoned rival, barefoot, reduced to wearing the rough rags of a penitent. “You have a visitor,” he said with a flourish.
“That will be all.” The man who walked into the cell behind Harbin dismissed the high-ranking D’nvannae as if he was a gnat. “I’ll knock when I’ve concluded my conversation with the prisoner. Leave us.”
Instinctively, Khevan rose and stood at attention while Harbin and his men retreated, closing the door. The visitor was a confusing apparition with the arrogant demeanor of a supreme Brother, clad in the fine black leather, yet he had no facial tattoo.
“Be at ease. Please, sit.” The man knocked on the door and it opened immediately. “I require a chair, fool.”
“At once, sir.” In less than a minute, the guard brought in a seat and placed it close to the door. He saluted and left.
Khevan watched this with bemusement.
Extending his hand, the guest said, “I’m Quaid Jacq, and I’m going to be your advocate during the ceremony of mer
damier.”
Shaking hands automatically, Khevan said, “I haven’t requested the trial. The Lady made it clear I’d die in the flames or in a staged ritual combat. As far as I know, she’s still making up her mind which will be more painful.”
“Yes, well, fortunately for you, I reminded her of her own law. A man at your rank has the right to the ritual, the chance to leave the Brotherhood free and clear since he can no longer serve her in good faith. And a clean, fast death if he fails.” Quaid’s eyes narrowed. “I have it on excellent authority your freedom is what you desire. Are my informants wrong?”
A vision of Twilka flashed before Khevan’s eyes. To be free of his oath, to go to her would be astonishing, more than he dared dream of. Ruthlessly, he quashed the wild hope. “No one will stand with me. Those who were my allies are either dead or too afraid. I’d refuse anyone she chose. Are you proposing to take part on my side?”
Quaid shook his head, the gleaming blond hair caught in a ponytail. “Alas, much as I relish a new challenge and a good fight, no. By the terms of my pre-existing agreement with the Lady, I can’t.”
Khevan had it worked out now. “You’re the Renegade? I thought you were nothing but a legend.”
Quaid punched him lightly in the shoulder. “Quite real. My help has been sought by those who care about you, outside these walls. Impressive allies.”
“No.” Horrified at the mere idea, Khevan rose, pacing in the small cell. “They mustn’t risk themselves; she mustn’t set foot on this planet.” He was reluctant to utter Twilka’s name inside these walls. “My friends don’t know—they can’t possibly navigate merdamier—what false hope did you give them?”
Quaid didn’t show any sign of taking offense at the rejection of his efforts. “My understanding was you and these allies had stood together through another test of life and death, and won your freedom. With them at your side…”
Star Survivor (The Sectors SF Romance Series Book 6) Page 9
