Andie realized that she had assumed that she and Tiran would find their own place to live, but Tiran had been living with Casey for over a year. Of course she was expecting to stay with him.
“Tiran, we talked about this, remember?” Casey reminded kindly, taking her hand. “You’re going to be living with your mother again.”
“But I want to live with both of you!” Tiran pouted, her mouth turning down into a frown.
Andie smiled at Casey. “What do you think about having us as neighbors?”
“What do you think about having me as a husband?” Casey returned, his tone earnest.
Andie stared at him, completely dumbstruck. She searched his eyes looking for some sign that he was joking, but his expression had turned serious.
“I know this must seem sudden for you but I’ve had a long time to think about it while you’ve been trapped in Kruundin City. I’m happy when I am with you but it’s more than that. I’m complete with you, Andie. You make me whole.”
Andie couldn’t find any words to reply so she just took his hand. Tiran was looking from her to Casey and back. Finally she found her voice.
“You’ve always been my best friend, Casey. I guess that’s not such a bad trait to have in a husband,” she replied lightly. That was all the reply Casey needed before he was kissing her again. They broke apart when Tiran’s giggles reminded them that they were still standing near the shuttle boarding gate in the midst of a crowd of curious onlookers.
“So where are we going to live, Mommy?” Tiran voiced, returning to the original subject. “Are we staying here or are we going somewhere else?” Andie turned to Casey. He shrugged, a smile on his face. “What do you want to do, Andie? Now that the revolution is a success, I might be reassigned to a new base. Or I could put in to be stationed here.”
Andie considered it for a moment. She could do whatever she liked now. She could stay in Roma. She and Tiran and Casey could have a good life here. Corizen was free! However, Zenith and her family beckoned. She looked at her daughter and this man that she loved, had loved since she was a child. A whole new future awaited them.
“I think that now it’s time to go home.”
♦
It took a little longer than Andie had planned to get home though. She and Tiran spent the next half a year living in Roma, waiting for Casey to get his transfer back to Zenith. They could have gone without him, but Tiran got panicky at the suggestion of being separated from the man who had taken care of her for so long. Andie decided that Tiran had already suffered too much loss; she could afford to wait a short while longer before returning to Zenith.
To her great embarrassment, Andie found herself rapidly becoming a celebrity among the Denicorizens. Many people already credited Sirra Bruche with saving the Revolution, and she found it increasingly hard to live inconspicuously. Of course, that included negative attention as well. When she received a death threat from the crazy man who had declared a blood feud on Laeren years earlier, she abruptly decided it was time to leave Corizen and let the personality of Sirra Bruche rest in peace. Casey wholeheartedly concurred, promising to follow them to Zenith as soon as he could.
Andie had an ecstatic reunion with her parents on Zenith. Everyone was in tears—Andie even caught her father with glistening eyes. They had aged since she had last seen them—her father’s dark hair was now completely silver, and her mother’s forehead was deeply lined. She and Tiran spent a month with them, and her mother could hardly let Andie out of her sight. Of course, Tiran was a little wary around her grandparents. They seemed so strange to her, not at all like her beloved Grandma Randa. However, she slowly started to warm up to her new family members.
Jenna came toward the end of Andie’s first week back. She was as gorgeous as ever only now she had grace and maturity that crowned her beauty. Her home was on the other side of Zenith, and her husband and three children did not yet make the trip. (Andie met them later—they seemed a very happy family. To her surprise and pleasure Jenna had named her oldest daughter after Andie. She could have paid Andie no greater compliment.) Uncle Mark came not long after Jenna, eager to see her and her daughter and hear all the stories about Corizen. Andie reveled in this family time. It was wonderful just to sit and listen to them talk, even about inconsequential things as long as they were near her. She visited her favorite haunts on Zenith, even spending some time in Omphalos. However, this time of blissful idleness couldn’t last forever.
So what does a legendary war hero do when the war is over? What Andie really had wanted to do was go back to her old job as a pilot. However, the Armada wouldn’t hear of it. She was too “valuable,” whatever they meant by that. What they really wanted was to parade her around to gather support for the Armada. They wanted her to take a tour of all the planets in the Union and speak at political rallies, conventions, and probably more. On the other hand, the Interplanetary Security Council wanted her to be a diplomat and convince Corizen’s new government that they really wanted to be part of the Union instead of an independently governed planet. Andie had no desire to force the Union on Corizen, so she handed her resignation in to the Armada. At first there was some official nonsense about how she had not fulfilled her original five year contract, but a not-so-gentle reminder from Admiral Donnell convinced the powers above that it would be silly to force the issue, especially since twelve years had passed. Not to mention that Andie’s kidnapping had been a direct result of performing her Armada duties. All hints of compelling her to stay abruptly evaporated after that.
Just after Casey was finally reassigned back to duty on Zenith, Andie married him. It was a pretty grand wedding. Her parents wouldn’t have been happy any other way since they entirely missed her first marriage. They had over three hundred guests—Andie didn’t know who the vast majority of them were. Even Casey’s snobbish Terran grandparents graced the couple with their presence. The ceremony was held on the Academy grounds, courtesy of Andie’s Uncle Mark. Jerrapo herself even made the trip from Corizen to be Andie’s maid of honor. (Andie wanted to invite Jo just for the sake of old days, but Casey adamantly refused to even consider it.)
During the next year, Casey continued his job as an Armada intelligence officer and Andie stayed home with Tiran. It was harder than she thought it would be to readjust to Zenith. Everything seemed so foreign, as if she had been gone for a hundred years instead of just ten. Much as she tried to slip back into the culture, she couldn’t even manage to kindle any close friendships. She eventually realized she was terribly homesick for the planet she had come to consider a second home. About the same time, the Interplanetary Security Council approached Casey asking him to take the post of Ambassador to the new Republic of Corizen. The first Denicorizen President (Morek-Li Damato, of course) was about to take office and he couldn’t abide the current diplomat the Union had stationed there. When after much discussion Casey decided to accept the post, Andie was secretly relieved. Zenith no longer felt like her home.
Just a few weeks before their first anniversary, Andie and Casey returned with Tiran to Corizen. The Union had purchased a large piece of land in central Roma to sponsor a university, and they built the Ambassador House on the property. Casey loved being a representative to Corizen and Andie tried to fade into the background. No one knew she was the famous Sirra Bruche, except for a handful of old friends who kept her secret scrupulously. Except for public appearances with her husband, she stayed at home and lived quietly with Tiran. She was content to watch Corizen’s new prosperity unfold from the sidelines.
Denicorizen life began changing so radically that within a few years it was unrecognizable. The economy was booming, the caste system was crumbling, and the fledgling representative government was starting to take flight. The aura of hope was contagious; Andie could see nothing but bright prospects for the future of her adopted planet. For the first time in over a decade she had finally found her home.
Acknowled
gments
As much as I would like to take all the credit, I would never have succeeded in getting this story from my head into your hands if it weren’t for the generous time and help of many of my friends and family. Pete Brown volunteered her awesome proofreading skills. Misty Dies and Amy Williams read my manuscript and gave me valuable feedback and encouragement about the plot. Lissy Burrell managed to pluck vague ideas from my head and turn them into a beautiful cover design for the first edition. This book could never have been finished without you guys, and I owe you big time.
Many thanks also to my family—they have been my greatest cheerleaders, persuading me to keep going whenever I let doubt slow me down. My patient children put up with losing their mother for hours on end without complaining (too much). Most of all, I could never have finished this story without my husband Terence, who stuck by me through all the long years it took me to finish this story and never let me give up. Thank you!!!
About the Author
Heidi J. Leavitt is a book addict who cannot live without the written word. She has loved science fiction and fantasy since she was young, and eventually, being unable to find enough of the type of stories she loved to read to satisfy her cravings, she decided to write her own. She is the author of the Roran Curse novels.
Heidi lives in Arizona with her family, where she practices juggling life with a husband, five destructive children, and two very wiggly dogs. She trains for road races and triathlons to keep her sanity and squeezes more reading into every spare nook of her day.
Visit her blog at www.heidijleavitt.blogspot.com.
The Roran Curse Novels:
The Legend of Sirra Bruche
Corizen Rising
The Quintan Edge
Rift (Summer 2018)
special preview of
CORIZEN
RISING
the next Roran Curse novel
A fractured family. A devious traitor. A blood feud.
Ten years ago revolution swept the planet Corizen, toppling the oppressive monarchy and ushering in a new age of democracy. Andie Morten, once a revolutionary hero, has hidden her past with the hope of quietly enjoying Denicorizen life with her husband Casey and daughter Tiran. However, an old enemy bent on revenge has discovered her secret and joined forces with the cunning leader of the smugglers, the mysterious Oman of the Brotherhood. Together, they intend to destroy the entire Morten family—and through them, the future of all free Denicorizens.
Prologue
An obsession with vengeance only strengthens with time. It was a truth that Oanni Rin had learned firsthand while suffering through ten long years in the maximum security Bastalt Prison. For long periods he had endured the company of petty criminals and imbeciles, the kind of men who deserved nothing but contempt. His latest cell mate was no different. The worthless lout had wasted his time assaulting lower caste prostitutes and beggars. Oanni had done his best to ignore him for the first five days they had shared a cell, but this night the thug had apparently decided he was going to force Oanni to speak.
During Oanni’s evening systematic exercising, he had gone so far as to knock Oanni over in the middle of his second long set of pushups. Without even thinking, Oanni had leapt to his feet, grabbed the man by his hair and slammed his face into the concrete floor of their tiny cell. Then he had returned to his next set of exercises, leaving his cellmate to slink back onto his cot while wiping blood from his nose. Oanni might look like a weak old man, easy prey to these thugs, but Oanni knew that it would only take one or two lessons and his cellmate would leave him alone. They always learned at least that much.
These vermin were despicable. They had had the chance to serve a greater cause than themselves and what had they done with it? Thrown it away trying to satisfy their greed or violent desires. Oanni had learned to channel and focus such emotions long ago and as a result, had become far more powerful in the service of his master than these pathetic excuses for men could even dream about.
For a moment he remembered fondly the great authority he had wielded as the steward of the King of Urok. No one had dared stand against him in anything. Then without warning everything he had achieved had been destroyed. The great empire he had labored so hard to build for his master had been leveled in one short day. Oanni had inadvertently betrayed his master by bringing an enemy into his presence. The king had been murdered and his army crippled by the actions of a slave, an insignificant girl not even half Oanni’s age. The memory still enraged him, but he cooled his anger reminding himself that eventually his time would come. Someday he would have his chance to redeem his failure.
He was still imagining his eventual triumph over that cursed girl when a distant roar caught his ear. A commotion was coming from outside this corridor of cells, driving all thoughts of revenge from his mind. He wondered why no guard was rushing down the corridor in response and then realized that he hadn’t actually seen a guard on rounds for several hours. Instantly, he was on his feet with his face pressed to the bars, peering down the row of cells.
Suddenly the large steel door at the end of the corridor swung open and several men wearing black jumpsuits and masks strode into the corridor. They took up post at the far end of the corridor a few feet apart from each other. Then another tall, black clad man with a swatch of red at his neck entered the room. He was not masked; his dark, appraising eyes swept the cells lining each side of the corridor. Oanni could hear the murmurs from other prisoners at the sight of the strangers.
“Who in the name of the blue planet are they?” his cellmate whispered. Oanni didn’t bother to respond.
The red-decked man spoke loudly to the corridor. “Prisoners of Bastalt. I command your silence. The Brotherhood has chosen to take control of this prison for the time being. We will be questioning each of you in turn, and we demand that you answer truthfully.” He said nothing more but instead proceeded to the first cell on the left side. Oanni watched the men silently, calculating how he could turn this to his advantage. A long time ago he had known several members of the Brotherhood. It had once been a smuggling organization, one that Oanni had frequently used to get off-planet luxuries for his master’s household. Now they seemed to be involved more and more in terrorist attacks and assassinations. The rumors of their new brutality had even impressed the prisoners buried in this pit. Obviously the Brotherhood had grown very powerful indeed if it was able to take control of the Bastalt Prison.
When the man with the red badge reached their cell, his cellmate scrambled quickly back to his feet. The man pointed at him. “You, state your name and the reason for your incarceration.”
“Incar—what?” Oanni’s ignorant cellmate stuttered, his eyes darting around like a terrified rodent.
“Why are you here?” the man clarified shortly.
“Oh, uh, Praul Vik. I’m in for assault.”
“Sit,” the man commanded peremptorily. “You?” he asked, pointing at Oanni.
“Oanni Rin,” he croaked, his voice hoarse from disuse. There was no sign of recognition from the man. How far Oanni had come down in the world! Once any smuggler with any clout would have known his name.
“And your crime was?”
Instead of answering Oanni chuckled hoarsely. “Do you want a list?”
The man stared icily at him. Praul flinched, but Oanni didn’t as much as blink. What did this man think he could threaten Oanni with? He had nothing left to lose. He left the man waiting for a moment while choosing his answer. Finally he spoke, his eyes intently studying the face of his interrogator for his reaction.
“I think the official conviction was for kidnapping and treason against the people of Corizen. But I think it was really for serving my master too well.” The man’s eyes narrowed, and he seemed to be considering Oanni thoughtfully.
“Who was your master?”
“Jaory Kruunde.” Oanni watched the comprehension dawn in t
he man’s eyes. Of course he knew who Jaory Kruunde was. Everyone knew the name of the last Denicorizen king.
“Indeed.” He crooked a finger at the man standing guard to his right. The guard pulled out a key ring and unlocked the door. “Please step out, Rin. We would like to discuss this further with you.”
Oanni followed the smugglers out of his prison cell eagerly. It hardly mattered to him what the Brotherhood would want from him in return. At last he would be free to retaliate against the woman who had stolen everything from him.
1. The Ambassador’s Wife
Andrea Morten sprawled on her bed with an abandon that she didn’t often feel anymore. Sometimes living such a public life took its toll. She had made yet another appearance at a big charity event. Roma, as the capital city of Corizen, was filled with such things, and most of them nowadays wanted someone connected to the Planetary Union to be there. Her husband, Casey, was the ambassador to the planet from the Union but he just didn’t have time to attend all of these functions. So instead, she often made appearances and speeches about goodwill between Citizens of the Planetary Union and Denicorizens, the people of Corizen. It wasn’t boring exactly, but it was tiring.
“Mom, there’s something on the terminal you might want to see.”
She looked up to see her daughter Tiran standing in the doorway. “Come on in, Tiran. I was just crashing for a few minutes.”
Tiran came in and flopped on the bed next to her mother. “It’s from that history site—the ‘Modern Myths’ show.”
Andie sighed and flicked the remote at her terminal. A holographic image sprung to life in front of the screen.
“And so we return to today’s modern myth question: Is Sirra Bruche real or just a legend?” queried the show’s host, a willowy brunette with her trademark look of disbelief. Tiran giggled at her side. Andie was faintly amused herself. The view switched to old videos of public demonstrations and fighting in the streets of Roma.
The Legend of Sirra Bruche Page 30
