Mission To Mahjundar (A Sectors SF Romance)

by Veronica Scott

  When Mike came walking slowly back through the twisting valley to his companions awhile later, he was leading the black stallion, Vreely's body slung over the saddle. Johnny and Saium were carrying the bodies of the other soldiers into the open tomb directly across from Lindia's. They stopped to watch him cover the last few yards.

  “Vreely's luck finally ran out, gentlemen,” Mike said as soon as he was in earshot. “He won't be doing any more dirty work for Maralika.”

  “Stick him in the tomb with the others.” Johnny hooked his thumb toward the cave. “Saium and I figure the less evidence we leave for the empress, the less trouble later.”

  “Not a bad idea, but how are we going to get the door closed? It isn't even placed on its hinges yet.” Mike turned and stared at the black door to Lindia's tomb. Sometime during the fighting, the portal had quietly and efficiently closed itself, per the legend. The key was nowhere to be seen. Mike swallowed hard, imagining their fate if Kajastahn had been a less superstitious man.

  “The hell with the damn door,” Johnny said. “I'm sick of all this mumbo-jumbo stuff. I figure we can start a big enough rock slide on the valley wall to do the trick. The debris will appear natural. We brought a few small explosive charges in the climbing gear, remember?”

  “Anyone check on Shalira?” Mike asked, as he dumped the late Captain Vreely from the saddle.

  “Twice,” Saium assured him. ‘She sleeps now. I told her about the poor maid.”

  “How’d she take the news?”

  “Shalira only asked that we not inter the girl with her murderers,” Saium said with a shrug. “The serving girl was a spy for the empress. We were aware of her true loyalties, of course, and Her Highness never confided in her unless it was something she wanted Maralika to hear. Still, the poor girl didn’t deserve what was done to her today.”

  “I guess we can honor the request for a separate resting place. There must be another tomb we can give to the maid.” Mike contemplated the long valley.

  “I'll take care of it,” Saium told them. “I know the proper words to be said.”

  “Fine. Johnny and I’ll finish here.”

  Johnny pointed at Mike’s cheek. “You ok?”

  “Just a scratch, nothing to worry about.” He touched the mark with his fingertip. “I had to put down the other horse. Vreely’s mount broke its leg when it fell.”

  “Just one more innocent casualty of the day,” Johnny said.

  Mike and his cousin worked in silence after that, piling the bodies inside the empty tomb. The sun was close to the horizon, ominous black clouds rising over the far rim of the valley.

  Dusting his hands on the seat of his pants, Johnny asked, “What's the plan now?”

  Hands on his hips, eyes narrowed, Mike surveyed the steep hills surrounding them. “We seal off the tomb with your landslide. Then I want to get the hell out of this valley before the storm breaks. I don't want to spend the night here in the open.”

  “Couldn’t pay me enough to bunk down in one of the empty tombs, not after what we saw today,” Johnny said.

  “No,” Mike agreed. “Talk about an idea with no appeal at all. If you can finish up here, I'm going to get Shalira. If she’s awake, she's probably nervous being by herself.”

  Walking to their packs, Johnny rummaged in the contents, pulling out explosives. “Go ahead. I'm going to set off the charge and start the rockslide in a couple of minutes.”

  His own grim errand completed, Saium said, “What can I do to help? Those clouds are ominous, and this area is famous for sudden downpours and flash floods. We don’t have much time.”

  “We don’t need to be caught in a flash flood,” Mike said, frowning in dismay. “Thanks for the warning.” He wasn't too pleased with himself. There had been a lot of luck involved in their escape from the empress's plot. Luck has a way of deserting you just when you need it most.

  Leaving his two companions busily at work on their assigned tasks, Mike hiked through the valley and climbed to the emperor’s unfinished tomb.

  “It’s me,” he called as he came through the entrance, not wanting to startle the princess if she was awake.

  “Is the fighting over? Are we free to go from here?” She was sitting, arms wrapped around her knees, propped against the rough stone wall. “What of Vreely?”

  Crossing to her side and laying a hand on her shoulder in reassurance, Mike said, “He's dead. You’ll never be troubled by him again.”

  Mike was glad she sounded a little stronger than when she had first awakened after escaping her mother’s tomb. Maybe the sleep did her some good. Even in the half-lit vestibule, he could see a tremendous bruise on her temple, where she’d grazed the edge of the sarcophagus. “I’m here to escort you to the horses. We'll be ready to ride out soon. A major storm is brewing and this valley isn't the place to take shelter, for a lot of reasons. Saium says flash floods come right through here when it rains hard enough."

  “No argument from me. I want to leave and never come back. This has been the most awful day.” She reached out in his direction. “Please–”

  As he pulled her to her feet, she came naturally into his arms. Breathing deeply of her floral perfume, accented with a note of entrancing spice, he enjoyed the way her soft curves pressed against him. Weary from the tension and the adrenaline of battle, Mike stopped fighting his attraction to her, tightening his embrace.

  Not resisting the intimacy, she leaned into him, putting her arms around his waist, head resting on his chest. “How can I ever thank you for all you've done today?”

  “Johnny and I want to go on living too, you know,” he said lightly. “How's your head?”

  “Pounding.” She touched the area around her eye gingerly. “I keep dozing off, as if I hadn’t slept a full night.”

  He examined the bruise as closely as he could in the dim light. “You might’ve suffered a concussion. Riding a horse isn’t the best idea under the circumstances but we’ve got no choice. I'll have Johnny do a diagnostic once we make camp outside this valley.”

  “Thank you, as always.” She squeezed his hand.

  Seeing the sheen of tears in her eyes, he caught her chin, gently raising her face to his. “What’s on your mind?”

  “My poor maid.” Shalira sighed and swiped at her eyes. “She was the empress’s spy, but—”

  He laid one finger on her lips. “Don't guilt-trip yourself. Her death wasn’t your fault, and you can't help her now. I promise you, Vreely and his men paid for their crimes.” Bending over, he gave in to the impulse to kiss her, which he’d been fighting all day. At first it was a gentle meeting of their lips, as she responded to him, instinctively moving closer. Then he held her against him and deepened the kiss, his tongue seeking hers. Her arms went around his neck, her breasts pressing against his chest. Tenderness, desire, and a host of other unfamiliar emotions flooded through him as they clung to each other.

  A moment later Shalira protested, pushing against him. Immediately he let her go.

  Hand to her lips, eyes wide open, cheeks flushed, she said, “We shouldn’t have—I shouldn’t have indulged myself.”

  He caught her fingers, bringing her hand to his lips and kissing her palm. “We both wanted to, don’t deny the truth.”

  She slid her hand from his, clenched her fingers into a fist and hid it behind her. She half-turned away from him. “It doesn’t matter what I wanted.”

  Mike was torn between duty and desire, buffeted by emotions that had broken loose from where he’d locked them away. Unsure what to do or say, unsure what he’d do with her answer, but driven to ask, he said, “Are you still set on traveling to the highlands? Marrying this guy you’ve never met?”

  “You speak as if I have freedom to make choices.” Her immediate response was surprisingly angry in tone. “I must carry out my duty to my father and marry Bandarlok. There’s a treaty to be honored and a large dowry was paid, so the chieftain would agree to the union.” One hand raised as if to fend him off,

Shalira retreated.

  Mike caught her in his arms when she stumbled over loose rocks on the tomb’s floor. “What if there was an alternative? Would you be willing to consider it?”

  Averting her face, Shalira’s voice was low and crisp. “You’re talking madness now. What alternative, as you call it, do I have? Where else can I go? Back to the capital? I told you, the empress will have me killed. The emperor would do nothing to prevent it, since I’d have sullied his name by breaking the marriage agreement. Are you suggesting I wander alone in the badlands until I perish?”

  Wishing he hadn’t baldly blurted the question out, Mike tried to fix his mistake without fully committing himself to a future course of action. “Of course not. You could—you could ask for asylum in the Sectors.”

  He wanted to protect her, keep her safe from all the troubles of her own world. The idea of handing her over to the unknown, probably barbarian, forest chieftain felt wrong. The reality of never seeing her again afterward was like a knife to his heart. She was meant to be his, he knew it to the core of his being but she had to make the choice. “I can make it happen, if you choose. I wouldn’t mention the possibility otherwise.”

  She waited in silence for a moment, as if expecting him to add something else to his explanation. When he didn’t, she threw out her arms. “What would I, a blind exile from backwater Mahjundar, do in your outworld? Throw myself on the mercy of your politicians? When they desperately want to make a treaty with my father so they can exploit our mineral resources?” Snorting in a most unladylike fashion, Shalira raised her head. “I refuse to be an object of pity, a recipient of charity. At least here I have a place, precarious and unappealing as it may seem to you.” Eyes flashing, lips compressed, she brushed tears away. “But even more important, I must carry out the emperor’s wishes.”

  Mike wanted to take her in his arms again. There was so much more to say. He licked his lips, reached out to her but she held herself stiffly away from him as soon as she felt his touch. He kept his gentle hold on one slender wrist. “No, you’re mistaking my meaning. I apologize, Your Highness, I’m expressing myself badly. I’ve started this all wrong.” He ran his other hand through his hair and groaned at his ineptitude. Whatever had possessed him to bring the subject up without preamble? Without committing himself? “I didn’t mean to distress you, and I apologize. I just thought, I mean, on the trail these last few days, at the temple, in the tomb…it seemed there was something between us, something we both felt, or I’d never have spoken.”

  Shalira shook her head. “The subject is finished. It has to be.”

  He let his arms drop and stepped back a little. I’ll try again later, after dinner perhaps, when she’s calmer. I know there’s something between us, attraction she can’t deny. Maybe I should have started a little more slowly on asking her to come with me. Led up to the subject. “Shall I escort you to the horses now?”

  “Yes, Major Varone. I think you’d better.” She stood stiffly in front of him, wrapping herself in the cloak he handed her. There was a minute of silence, as neither made any move toward the entrance to the tomb. Finally, Shalira spoke again without looking in Mike’s direction. “I don’t want you to misunderstand. I never meant to hurt you.”

  Hoping she was rethinking her plan, he said, “Then let me explore getting you some other options—”

  But the princess was shaking her head. “You’re an officer. You understand the demands of duty. No less than any soldier, I must carry out the emperor’s orders. There’s no use, no use at all, in discussing anything else. What I might want, what I might feel as a woman, rather than a princess carrying out the terms of the emperor’s treaty, none of that counts. Don't you see? I’ve been given no choices to make.” A single tear rolled down her cheek and she closed her eyes. “The things you spoke of are impossible. Perhaps if we’d met under other circumstances, but as matters stand, I have no choice. Honor demands I walk the road I’ve agreed to. I have to live with myself, Major.”

  “We'd better get back to the others.” Mike repressed the urge to wipe the tears from her face and kiss her again. She made her position clear all right, no point in prolonging the pain for either of us. “Johnny should be setting off an explosion to trigger a landslide any minute now, so don't be dismayed by the sudden noise, your highness.”

  But Johnny unexpectedly came through the tomb opening. “We’ve got complications.”

  Mike contained his exasperation, keeping his voice level despite an overwhelming urge to swear. “Now what?”

  The sergeant glanced at Shalira. “I uh, I think the lady’s fiancé has come to collect her. Big guy, leading about twenty armed riders, just came galloping into the valley. Saium’s palavering with them now in some dialect we weren’t trained on.”

  “Bandarlok came,” Shalira exclaimed, “I trusted he would.”

  Despite the immediate anger rising in his heart, Mike had ice in his veins. “You sent for him? When?”

  “I sent word to him of my fears of treachery, told him he might lose all if he waited for Vreely to bring me to the highlands. Saium found a reliable messenger, paid a sizable bribe.” She frowned, smoothing her dress with a nervous gesture. “I’d suggested Bandarlok meet my caravan before we reached the temple, but perhaps there were unavoidable delays.”

  “Was this before or after you had your father draft Johnny and me into escorting you?” Mike tried not to let his anger show through, but Shalira recoiled as if he’d slapped her.

  “I—I hadn’t met you, had no idea of asking you for help—”

  “But then we came along and you thought you’d hedge your bets. Nicely done, Your Highness. I guess I’m a sucker for tears and sad stories.” How could I forget she was raised in the poisonous stew of the palace? I was briefed—it’s all games and manipulation with her people, and she’s apparently no different. Still burning, rightly or wrongly, from her refusal to even discuss an attempt to seek asylum in his world, Mike used this new development to stoke the flames of his anger so the pain of losing her wouldn’t strike so deep. “Johnny, let’s escort the lady to her eager bridegroom. Then we can proceed on our own mission with no further delay.”

  Without another word he guided her from the tomb and down the stairs, Johnny trailing behind with the saddlebag containing the relics they’d retrieved. A large group of colorfully dressed warriors, some armed with bows, others carrying swords or guns, was waiting at the foot of the stairs. The men inspected Shalira with interest, the boldest making laughing comments behind their hands. Off to the side Saium stood, frowning. He pushed past the newcomers to meet Shalira and her escorts.

  “Which one is the man of the hour?” Mike asked, releasing Shalira’s hand. He made a quick assessment of the newcomers. Can’t say I like the looks of any of these brigands.

  “Bandarlok waits for the princess a short distance from here,” Saium said as he took her elbow to lead her away from the tomb entrance. It was slow-going over the rocky ground and Shalira was unusually unsteady. Over his shoulder, Saium added, “The chief said it wasn’t proper for her to begin their relationship by descending from the heights while he stood on the ground.”

  “Really?” Still angry at how Shalira had maneuvered him, Mike was briefly tempted to mount his horse and leave the vicinity, but he realized he’d never forgive himself if he rode away from her now. I need to see this through so I can forget her. He paced after Saium, Johnny trailing them.

  The warriors came behind, muttering and laughing, which grated on Mike’s nerves. A hundred feet or so away stood a man who had to be Bandarlok. He was as tall as Mike, well over six feet, but built along the lines of a battle cruiser. He had thickly muscled arms and legs, long dark red hair caught back in two messy braids, a beard and a huge gut that bulged unattractively under his black leather shirt. A crudely sewn flag bearing the insignia of the bartuk, a kind of Mahjundan bear Mike recognized from the wildlife briefing, was held aloft by a youth who had to be a son, given his hair color and outsize frame. Two bartuks were tattooed in blue on Bandarlok's upper arms.

  Saium took the duty of spokesman. “I present the Princess Shalira, daughter of the Emperor Kajastahn, come to be your bride, mighty Bandarlok, as per the treaty.”

  As Shalira made a slight curtsey, Bandarlok stared at her with a coldly evaluating eye. “I’ve heard of your beauty, princess,” he said in a booming, gravelly voice. “Your father’s emissaries told the truth for once.”

  “I–I thank you for the kind words, sir.” Shalira retreated a step closer to Saium.

  Stepping forward, Bandarlok took her by the hand, pushing her guardsman out of the way. He shoved her hair off her forehead, forcing the princess to tilt her chin so he could get the fading sunlight to fall directly on her face. “This bruise results from some mishap along the trail, I assume? It will fade?”

  “Yes, my lord. I struck my head, in my mother's tomb today. I’m sure any discoloration will soon disappear.” Shalira sounded anxious to alleviate his concern.

  “Good. The mark is disfiguring, and I’ve accepted enough already, blind one.”

  She shrank from the flat, disapproving tone. Bandarlok had spoken as if he blamed her for acquiring the blemish on purpose to displease him.

  The chieftain laughed, crushing her slender body to his for a noisy, slobbering kiss on the lips. “Never mind, having finally seen you, the bargain is sealed.” One huge, rough hand roved familiarly down her back, cupping her butt as he continued to hold her close. “I might take you even if you don’t have the additional items I requested.”

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