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Premonitions

Page 1

by Le aha Vaughn




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  Mardi Gras Publishing, LLC

  www.mardigraspublishing.com

  Copyright ©2006 by Leaha Vaughn

  First published in 2006-08-01, 2006

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  NOTICE: This work is copyrighted. It is licensed only for use by the original purchaser. Making copies of this work or distributing it to any unauthorized person by any means, including without limit email, floppy disk, file transfer, paper print out, or any other method constitutes a violation of International copyright law and subjects the violator to severe fines or imprisonment.

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  Premonitions

  By

  Leah Vaughn

  Mardi Gras Publishing, LLC

  29100 N. Main St. #93

  Daphne, AL 36526

  This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, organizations, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  EBook ISBN 0-9787262-9-4

  Premonitions © 2006 by Leah Vaughn

  All rights reserved under the International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  Cover art © 2006 by Dyana Lunaris

  For more variety in your reading selection, please visit www.mardigraspublishing.com

  Dedications

  There are never words to express all the people who have helped me along the way. All the people I have bugged, hunted down just to read the tidbits, laughed with me as we pointed out my mistakes or even a back rub to relieve the stresses.

  First of all, I give my praises to God. Without him, I can do nothing. With him, I can move mountains.

  Special thanks to my mama, Harriett and 15 brothers and sisters who believed and corrected me when I needed it.

  My best friend Andrea for helping me vent through the roughest part of my life.

  My co-workers who nurtured my talent especially the ones I hunted down to read the tidbits.

  My loving husband, Marc, who gave me so many ideas and different paths to take.

  Finally, yet most importantly, a very special thanks to my daddy Don, who walked into the arms of God shortly before seeing this book published. I love you and miss you, Daddy.

  Don Caldwe

  1945-2006

  Prologue

  Year 2375

  The second year of the Cylian / Altarian War

  Lady Nah'Dara Lehr went to the library to seek the safety that she often found there. The fire blazed in the fireplace. The vaulted ceilings and large amber drapes cast a shadow over the room.

  Her parents were missing. Her brother, Lord Erion Lehr, had come home from his post on the outer sector to help find their parents. Now, she stood near the fire trying to find a comfort she could not feel. Her heart raced with anticipation, as she waited, for any word about her mother and father, her heart raced with anticipation. Her body tingled with anticipation. With goose bumps on her arms, she shivered but not because of the temperature. Her arms wrapped around herself to ease the tremors that went through her.

  She eyed the large mirror on the side of the fireplace. Full of sadness, a chocolate brown face with emerald eyes, dark and ominous, met her gaze. Her dark brows were drawn tight with the fine lines gently creasing her forehead. Her unbound dark brown hair hung down her back in gentle curls. Catching the light of the fire, her hair glistened with health and radiance. She smoothed her hands down the front of her royal blue tunic that hung to her mid thighs. Her mother told her often enough that she had to dress like a Lady of the Notalvian Alliance, but she seldom listened. She wished now more than ever, that her mother were here to chide her once again.

  Sighing, Nah'Dara walked away from the mirror to a large crimson chair tugging her tunic at the back as she sat. She waved her hand across the halo-lamp that stood on the table next to her. Suddenly, it came to life, brightening the area around the chair. She stared at the lamp, her mind fiercely hoping that her parents were alive. Maybe they were sitting waiting for the rescue team to find them. Maybe they had escaped the Cylian raiders and the communications were down. She held on to the maybes, all the while praying that they would come true. A knock on the door drew her attention. She looked up to see Erion filling the doorway. Her brother ran a hand through his short brown curls shooting her a troubled looked. With a weary smile, she greeted him with one was returned finally. At the sight of him, her heart stopped. Something was wrong. She felt it deep in her soul. Maybe it was the way his royal blue robes billowed behind him with each step, or the deep creases in his troubled dark brows, or his hazel green eyes that glistened with unshed tears. Or maybe how his coffee brown handsome face held back emotions, but she felt something was not right. Oh, Spirit—no.

  "Nah'Dara.” His voice cracked as he spoke. She felt a sudden drop in her stomach as she stood to greet him. Nah'Dara met him only halfway on legs there were unsteady. Erion gripped her hands fondly massaging them with the gentle circles of his thumbs. She found his stormy brown eyes the most troubling.

  "Erion, no one will tell me anything. I want to know. Did you find them?"

  His strained smile said volumes to her.

  "Maybe we should sit."

  Don't sit! Her mind screamed with alarm. Whenever he insisted she sit, it meant that something bad was about to be said.

  "No,” she said quietly, her voice breaking. “I want to know."

  "Please, Nahni. There's no easy way—"

  "Damn it, Erion!” Nah'Dara angrily tore her hands from his. “Tell me! I want to know. I need to know.” She stilled him with a piercing stare. The loud sound of her blood roared in her ears. She felt his callused hand tenderly cup her cheek.

  "Nahni.” Her childhood name broke on his voice. “Mom and Dad are gone."

  Everything stopped. She stood there numb as she stared at the truth in his eyes. Dead! Dead! No, Oh, Spirit—please no. This could not be happening.... A roar of anguish escaped her. “Noooooo!"

  Her knees gave way. She would have fallen to the ground had it not been for Erion's arms surrounding her.

  "Spirit, No!” Nah'Dara pounded her fist on his shoulder weakly, the fight within her gone. He pulled her closer as she wailed. She buried her face in his chest clutching at his robes as she cried. She could feel his hand stroking her hair, hearing the soft words as he soothed her.

  As she cried, images of her parents filled her mind. Her mother sitting in the garden with a book. Her father teaching her about the Camtar. Both of them laughing and playing with her as a child. Gone, it was all gone. There was nothing to bring them back.

  Erion carried Nah'Dara up to her room placing her on the bed. He stood by in the small retreat giving her the privacy she needed to undress with her lady maid's help. When they were finished, Erion walked back to her side as she lay in the bed.

  The numb distant look on her face only amplified what he felt in his heart. The maid pulled the cover up to her neck. He smoothed down her hair seeing just how fragile she was. His little sister looked so vulnerable. She looked at him with her large green eyes and his heart broke.

  "They're gone?” The comment was to confirm more than to ask a question.

  Swallowing the lump in his throat, Erion nodded. “But don't worry, Nahni. Don't worry about a thing. I'm going to make sure that you are taken care of.” She nodded, covering a sniffle with her hand. He smoothed a hand down the side of her face. “Sleep, Nahni. We'll talk tomorrow.” He stayed beside her until her eyes drooped to close
and her breath evened out. When Erion knew for certain that Nah'Dara was asleep, he left the room. In his mind, he made plans to send her away.

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  Finally surrendering to a deep sleep, Nah'Dara dozed fitfully. She dreamed she fell through the sky coming to an abrupt stop hard at a place she had never been before. In the distance, she could see a great fire burning bright in the night sky. Thick clouds of deep red smoke obscured the large binary moons. There were no trees, as the dry grass crumpled under her bare feet. The wind blew hot across her skin fanning her long brown tresses. She wore very little clothing. The remains of her nightgown hung from one shoulder, with a big gaping hole in the center that exposed her stomach and one brown hip.

  A fire burned in the distance. Nah'Dara looked at her feet to see a woman clutching her swollen middle. Her stomach churned at the sight of the gaping wound in her head. The woman's hair and face were smeared with her blood. Her large black eyes were still wide with fear, but void of life. She was dead. There were more bodies lying beside her. Death lined the ground as dead bodies spread across the expanse of the field, the blood of millions mingling as one.

  Nah'Dara looked up at the clang of metal hitting metal. As the thick screen of smoke cleared, she saw a lone, half-naked warrior holding a katana. The blood of the fallen dripped from the cruel sword as he swung it with retribution against his enemies. The warrior's kill, a raider, caught the end of the sword in his abdomen. As he fell to the ground, she noticed the traditional leather armbands and battle markings that encircled his arm.

  A Cylian warrior.

  She stifled a gasp, covering her mouth with her hands. Nah'Dara looked down at the bloody raiders at the warrior's feet. The shiver that ran through her was deep. She had to leave. As she looked up from the ground of charred bodies to the warrior, the anger in his silver eyes pierced her like a sword.

  Nah'Dara felt herself falling into those luminous eyes, exploring the mind behind them. She felt his pain as if it were her own. His rage shot through her causing her to shiver again. A cold sickening feeling made her skin tingle.

  The warrior let his kill slide from the pointed end of the katana to the ground without another thought. To Nah'Dara's horror, he turned in her direction. Her heart literally stopped. Who was this man? What did he want with her? She could not move. Her brain had shut down, unable to process anything. The warrior stalked her moving like a skilled predator. His eyes glowed with a fire that contrasted with the chill she felt throughout her.

  Covered in the spattered blood of the slain raider, the warrior turned upwards in a cruel sneer. The blood ran in rivulets over his massive chest and down the hard muscles of his abdomen. He held his katana in a death grip, heading straight for her. Nah'Dara could not move. As much as she wanted to run, she could not. She stood there petrified as he closed the space between them. She was frozen.

  Nah'Dara looked into his eyes. There was no light, no emotion—except hate and a cold murderous fury that she had her trembling. He wanted to hurt her. No, better yet, to kill her. Splatter her blood all over the land and mix it with the others.

  Finally obeying her mind's demand to flee, her legs moved on their own, obeying her mind's demand to flee. The warrior was much faster than she realized. With one stride to her two, he was upon her. One large hand snaked out to grab her by the arm. His fingers bit into her flesh.

  Nah'Dara yelped in pain but it. The warrior towered over her in total intimidation. In his silvery eyes, she saw his rage, his fury. She tried to jerk her hand free, but he held her tightly. She tried beating him with her fist, but it was like hitting air. With a death grip on her, he raised the katana higher. His intent was clear.

  Nah'Dara shrieked. She could hear the whistle as the blade made its decent. She could not move. She wanted to flee. She felt powerless awaiting the blade's final contact. There was nothing she could do. She closed her eyes not wanting to see her end. As she lost her grip with consciousness, the darkness comforted her.

  Nah'Dara opened her eyes to see the silver glow of his fiery eyes. She could hear the unmistakable maniacal laughter on the wind, as she slid to the ground. Her blood would mix with the millions lying dead around her. She tried to move, but ultimately succumbed to a world of darkness.

  Chapter One

  6 years later...

  "I can't believe this,” hissed Lord Trenton Lehr as he looked at the latest report from the Habias Prime-Altarian border. The Altarians again managed to restrict ‘Habias’ ships from passing through Altarian territory to Cedar, a lightly populated planet on the other side of the Altarian space border. The light from the small viewer shone on his face, making him look more upset. Dayton, the second in command, sat in front of Trenton, across the expanse of the large desk with his back ramrod straight from many years of training.

  "The Altarians won't accept offerings of any kind. Not based on the Alliance. They have turned down countless negotiations with our ambassador. There is very little left for us to offer them in exchange for allowing us passage.” Lord Trenton looked at the screen once more. His mind quickly raced through different options.

  "The war between both the Cylians and the Altarians has been going on for eons, My Lord. It is severely hurting our trillium supplies on Cedar."

  Trenton was well aware of that. The supplies steadily dropped for three years when the negotiations between the two warring worlds failed to establish a truce.

  Dayton stood from his chair and began to pace the room. “Have you thought of a peace conference with the Altarian Government? It worked perfectly with the Analdons,” he said stroking his slightly bearded jaw.

  Lord Trenton shook his head. “The Analdons are a peaceful race. It's in their nature to call a truce. The Altarians want nothing but to dominate that sector even if that means going against the Cylians and the Notalvian Alliance."

  "I know. Some of our best supply comes from their region. Trillium ore would make any nation try to take them over."

  Trenton knew that the precious blue gold metal would turn the circumstances for any system, that is, if it fell into the wrong hands. Trenton walked from behind his desk to the bookshelf to retrieve the large golden book of Notalvian Alliance Laws and Treaties. As he placed the book down on his desk, a cloud of dust rose from the book, blinding the Lord's vision momentarily. Coughing and sputtering, he fanned the air.

  Dayton stood next to him. “What are you going to find there?"

  Trenton turned the large pages searching. “I am looking for this old treaty that was used with the Tolvar before we were part of the alliance. Overlord Teron Fehr traded one of his daughters to Lord LoMoq as an offering of truce to end the war between the two families."

  Dayton eyed his lord quizzically. “Pardon me saying so, but I think that would never work. Which daughter would you give? Both Kiana and Theora are engaged to be married later this year."

  Trenton looked up from the golden pages of the book frowning, his mind deep in thought. His second had a way of ruining his thoughts.

  He looked at the halo-pic of his daughters and his niece on the bookshelf.

  There was Kiana, his most elegant daughter with hair of golden silk and bright golden eyes. She was the very image of his first wife Nahala. Nearly a year ago, Kiana announced her engagement with Lycius, Prince of Sporia. He saved her from becoming a sex slave to a nasty band of Rebos in the Badlands.

  Theora, his beautiful younger daughter, always kept her hair shoulder length with dark gold curls. When he looked at her, he saw the strength of a leader in her almond shaped brown eyes. His heart swelled with pride. She announced her engagement to Lycius's brother, Prince Anton, after she and Nah'Dara rushed off to save Kiana with Lycius with his help.

  His niece, Nah'Dara, such a rare beauty, always showed her defiance through her vibrant emerald eyes. Voluptuous curse fit her large frame, but she walked with the agility of a lady warrior. Her hair of long dark brown curls flowed down her back framing her cocoa brown face, the image o
f her beautiful mother, LaReina. Yet, somewhere she acquired a horrible attitude that would make the Spirit on high cringe. No wonder there seemed to be a short supply of men who would take her.

  "I have made my choice."

  Dayton looked at his lord wide eyed. Dayton opened his mouth to protest. “Surely you don't mean—"

  Lord Trenton quickly cut him off. “I know you are going to say she is not ready to take on such a diplomatic task, but what better time than the present? Nah'Dara will get the interstellar relation that is required before her twenty-first birth anniversary. All we need to do is set up the necessary training."

  "My Lord,” Dayton protested. “I am more than confident that she will encounter every race with grace, but my biggest concern is she will be too bold with her words, sir."

  Just the thought of not having to deal with her hostile temper and mouth much longer made the smile that spread across Trenton's lips brighten. “That would make it all the better then. I'm not worried about her words. She is just strong willed. And when the negotiations are over, in the treaty, she would be part of the offer to Great Prince LoMoq."

  Trenton hurried to the viewer on his desk, asking the computer to place an interstellar communication to the Altarian home world.

  Seconds later, a large, dark haired, dark eyed man dressed in a regal blue uniform appeared on the screen.

  "State your purpose.” His flat tone told Trenton he did not like being bothered.

  Trenton stared at the large Altarian for a second not wanting to make an enemy of the Altarians. He knew the entire race of war hungry militants could take his sector by force alone. “I am Lord Trenton Lehr of Habias Prime. I need to speak with Great Prince LoMoq."

  "The Great Prince is not available."

  Trenton's patience was wearing thin, but he put his feelings aside. A treaty with the Altarians was far more important for the Cedar's sake. “It is very important I speak to him.” His voice held its diplomatic calm.

 

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