Chloë

by Marcus LaGrone

  Chloë smiled at Heather and at Heather’s inner strength. There, in one giddy girl, was everything she had wished for herself: a loving family full of life, siblings, strength, independence… In just a few short weeks, Heather and her family had taught her so much about what life could be. Life, far away from the palace. A simple life. Not a life without responsibilities, heavens no! But it was a life that was open and honest, uncomplicated by lies and subterfuge.

  Llewellyn Stratford of clan Silverglade. Baron, she laughed as she reminded herself. Heather’s father was a baron over three broad dales and respected far beyond. While her own father laid dominion over ten times as much area and a thousand times as many people, there was a strength of character that Llewellyn had that her father totally lacked. Dominion? Hardly! The dales were run by a network of villages and cities each run by a mayor, not the baron. Female mayors! Llewellyn’s title and responsibilities were all about protection of the realm. There wasn’t even a hint of meddling in politics as Chloë knew them.

  “Heather,” asked Chloë suddenly, “um, Raymond was very worried about your father and what he might do. I mean, he seems so calm, would he really… well…”

  “Go ballistic?” finished Heather. “Most assuredly.” She turned and grinned at Chloë, “I noticed you’re not using his name.”

  Chloë nodded, “Well, you went out of your way to silence Raymond, so I figured I ought to remain discreet. We still don’t know if we are being spied upon. But seriously, your dad, he seems so nice and calm. Silly even! He just doesn’t seem to be the sort that would make Raymond so nervous.”

  Heather nodded as she chose her words carefully. “He is my father first and foremost, and he will do whatever it takes to protect his children. He may not like what he did after the fact, but in his mind those are his wounds to carry: safety of the House is foremost in his mind. My eldest sister was kidnapped back when I was three. That went very poorly for the kidnappers. Very! The only differences this time around are that he now has even more friends who would be willing to help, and that he will come for us both.”

  “He’d put his life on the line for me?” asked Chloë surprised. “I’m a stranger brought into your house.”

  “Yes, but you were brought into the house. First Mother granted you sanctuary, end of story. Father takes over from there. As far as Father is concerned, you are, for all practical purposes, my sister and thus his child.”

  “Um, your First Mother just kind of took me in. It’s not like he agreed to anything so drastic.”

  Heather laughed. “He didn’t need to agree to anything; First Mother already had.” She stretched as she tried to explain. “It is a family, a unit. Everyone trusts everyone else. If someone is unsure, they will talk to the other adults, but if someone knows something is the right thing to do, they will just do it. When a Highlander talks about a family, a House, they don’t do so lightly. I mentioned before: all the Mothers treat every child as if she had given birth to each of them. Every Mother there would also lay down her life for any of the children. My father’s biggest job is to make sure they never have to make that decision. And there is precious little that I wouldn’t do for my parents or my sisters! That includes you!”

  Chloë’s ears flushed at the comment. “Um, thank you. That is the nicest and most noble thing anyone has ever told me.”

  “No problem,” grinned Heather.

  They both suddenly went silent as a bell chimed and they heard movement at one of the doors.

  “We have visitors,” murmured Chloë nervously.

  “Well, let’s go see who it is,” replied Heather calmly.

  Chloë took Heather’s hand as they made their way downstairs and to the formal entryway. Standing there in the atrium were three guards, two dinner attendants with carts of food, and Reinhardt and Raymond. Heather bared her teeth at Reinhardt as they approached.

  Reinhardt recoiled mildly from Heather’s display; it was very obvious he was not used to being around strong willed and independent women. “Good evening, my Ladies,” he offered diplomatically. “I have taken up your request and am permitting Raymond to eat dinner with you this evening. We will come by to collect him at nine o’clock. Do enjoy your dinner, but don’t try to do anything rash: the Shukurae guards will be taking over in half an hour and I doubt they will be impressed by… your dental work.” He turned and smartly marched back out the front door with the guards in tow. A quick close of the door and click of locks reminded all involved of their situation.

  “The dining room is this way,” began Chloë politely. “Feel free to deliver the food and then depart. We will happily serve ourselves.”

  The attendants nodded with some appreciation; this wasn’t their normal day job, that was obvious, and they had little interest in getting involved any more than they had to. Three minutes later, they had laid out the meal, many items still on their warming trays, and they made their way back out of the complex.

  Raymond eyed Heather nervously, “Um, so what is the plan, Lady Heather?”

  Heather just laughed as she started to serve the first course to the three of them, “Eat, silly. What else do you do at dinner time?”

  “First and foremost we need our strength up. Especially if Heather turns this into a ‘party,’” offered Chloë.

  Raymond nodded nervously but graciously accepted the food offered.

  “So,” began Chloë, “running under the assumption that this room is bugged and we must all be diplomatic here, do you know what Reinhardt is up to?”

  Raymond nodded, “You are most certainly correct, my Lady, that the room is bugged, but to answer your question, I’m not entirely certain. The Beyscones were not involved in the last… altercation, but I do know that that province has been experiencing strong economic growth. I can speculate, and speculate only, that there are ambitions to consolidate some of the nearby realms and form a new barony. Doing so would be touchy, but your father’s influence could easily make that happen.”

  “So you don’t anticipate that he has ambitions beyond that realm? He’s not trying to shake my father’s station?” asked Chloë.

  Raymond thought carefully, “I doubt it. Elevating Reinhardt to baron would shake some trees, further than that would be violently opposed. However, if your father did elevate him to baron, that would increase your father’s influence there in the south and would also help Reinhardt in the courts. The more that I think of it, the more I think both would be served well by such a move. Assuming Reinhardt is planning well in advance, I do not think you need to worry about him making unsolicited advances to you.”

  “By that you mean that my children might become part of the next political ploy,” countered Chloë.

  Raymond nodded. “Yes, ma’am. Rising above baron would shake too many trees in one generation, but future alliances…”

  “Would you please have the dignity,” began Heather eloquently to the point of sarcasm, “to dispense with the crap. They are not alliances; they are unwanted and unsolicited marriages.”

  Raymond nodded, “I am sorry about that. There is always hope, however, that various parties would approve of the marriages.”

  “Alternatively,” began Chloë, “it could be that we choose our own alliances at our level rather than having the previous generations decide that for their own purposes.”

  “Well spoken, my Lady. But there are generations of cultural norms that will need to be addressed.”

  “You mean there are generations of cultural norms that will be needed to be redressed,” corrected Chloë. “And we know how well these norms served the previous generation: how many died in the last great war?”

  “War,” offered Heather. “Just war. There are no great wars.”

  Raymond nodded, “There is a human saying that I still recall from the academy: ‘It is a good thing that war is so terrible, lest we become fond of it.’“

  Heather smiled at Raymond before turning to Chloë. “See, I told you that buried under all t
hat posturing was a good person.”

  “Great,” grinned Chloë, “so does that mean you are going to kiss him again?”

  31

  Dinner lazily meandered by and the evening started to grow late. Darkness had already consumed the complex and soon it was going to be time for Raymond to leave.

  “Ten ‘till nine,” beamed Heather as she suddenly looked over to Raymond. “So, can you fly?”

  Raymond suddenly was taken aback. “Yes, Lady Heather, I can pilot a great many ships. But have you seen their evening guards? They are those hideous Shukurae! How would you expect us to get past them?”

  Heather frowned at Raymond. “They are wonderful Shukurae, get that right, and I expect them to escort us.” Heather sprang from her seat and started down the hall to the entryway, “Come on everyone. Now is not the time to dally; I’ll need help talking to them.”

  “Talking to them?” asked an exasperated Raymond. “We cannot hope to bribe them.” He quickly found himself being left behind and had to unceremoniously bolt from the table to keep up with the two girls.

  Heather pounded on the door and the guards outside bellowed back.

  “They say it is not yet time, that escorts will soon be arriving,” translated Chloë.

  Heather grinned as she stuck out her tongue, “I do wish I had learned all those languages like my big sister. But I know just enough of theirs to be dangerous.” She pounded on the door again and bellowed back, “Taleus. Bealu taleus!”

  Chloë racked her brain as she tried to place the language, “Um, what did you say?”

  “I asked for protection. Dad taught me just enough of their language to keep me safe,” grinned Heather. “So long as they are a mainstream group, this will get fun.”

  Chloë was uncertain what Heather had in mind for ‘fun’ but was surprised to find herself staring at two massive Shukurae as the door suddenly burst open.

  Heather bowed and repeated, “Taleus. Bealu taleus.”

  The Shukuare snarled, bearing their massive array of shark-like teeth. One barked back at Heather before cycling through languages back to where Chloë understood.

  “He wants to know who is requesting protection and why this should run contrary to their assignment.”

  “Tell him I am Heather Stratford of the Highlands of Afon. Also tell him that you were granted sanctuary by my parents’ house and you too request protection. We were both kidnapped from the planet Afon.”

  Chloë parroted back what Heather said only to find herself cowering behind Heather a split second later as the Shukurae guards bellowed out in rage. One kept his eyes on the trio while the other bellowed in its native tongue over a commlink.

  “Oh, that was quite helpful Lady Heather,” replied Raymond sarcastically. “I think you made them mad.”

  “Mad was the plan,” grinned Heather. “But at whom is the question.”

  A small group of Shukurae thundered over. One, with a blue pauldron, glared at the trio and fired out, “Who is the Highlander?” in a crisp and somewhat scary rendition of the Old Tongue.

  Heather bowed, “Line Centurion, I am the Highlander. I am Heather Stratford. This young lady with me, Chloë Amsterval, has been granted sanctuary by my First Mother’s House.”

  The Shukurae glared at Heather looking her up and down. “Stratford. I have known members of that house. Are you Dawn Stratford’s daughter?”

  “No, ma’am, I am Dawn Stratford’s sister,” Heather replied evenly.

  “You were taken by force?”

  “Yes, ma’am. We were drugged and then kidnapped from an Altshea city that bordered the Highlands.”

  The Shukurae stared at Heather up and down again. Outside, quite a commotion had erupted as more Shukurae as well as local guards swarmed their location. Finally things came to a head as Reinhardt and a pair of his regular troops approached.

  “What is the problem, Line Centurion?” bellowed Reinhardt. “Your orders were clear: keep them contained.”

  The Line Centurion drew herself up to full height, “What are the names of these people?”

  Reinhardt scowled, “That is none of your concern. You and your troops were hired to do a job. I expect you to abide by your contract and perform your duties!”

  “Who are these two girls? Under what conditions were they brought here?” she bellowed back.

  While Reinhardt was, in theory, in charge, fear suddenly swept him and his fur stood on end. “It is not your business; your business is to keep them contained!”

  “They accuse you of taking them from the planet Afon by force. How do you answer to that?”

  “My business is not your concern, Line Centurion! You will do…”

  It took a moment for Chloë to resolve what happened, it went by so quickly, but it all began as one of Reinhardt’s guards pulled a sidearm. That proved to be a fatal mistake. Heather acted next as a brilliant arc of blue sparks erupted into an elegant sidesword and effortlessly bisected the offending weapon. There was a half a heartbeat pause before the nearest Shukurae backhanded the bewildered guard so hard that Chloë was certain his neck had snapped.

  The Line Centurion glared at Reinhardt, “Your man drew on me. Unacceptable. By making us party to an unlawful kidnapping you have violated Section 4, Paragraphs 7-9 of our contract. To that end, we now consider your contract null and void. We are leaving now and we are leaving with our new charges. I would advise against trying to stop us.”

  Advice comes in many flavors. Often people say free advice is worth exactly what was paid. In this case, it was not free advice: one had already paid with his life. Reinhardt, however, was used to getting his way and no advice, however useful or pragmatic, was going to stand in his way. “Protect the girls, cut down the monsters!” bellowed Reinhardt as he ran from the door.

  Chloë thought it spoke volumes of Reinhardt that he had quickly outrun his own troops in retreat.

  Revenge on his mind, Reinhardt’s remaining guard brought his weapon to bear with practiced form. This time it was Raymond rather than Heather who acted as he leaped from the man’s blind side and stripped the weapon away. The Shukurae, now in full motion, quickly dispatched the unarmed guard and directed the trio back inside as a full-fledged gunfight erupted outside.

  With the doors slammed shut, the Line Centurion turned to Heather, pointed to Raymond, and asked, “And what of him?”

  “His name is Raymond. He is a palace guard. While Chloë’s father and my father are at odds, he will protect Chloë,” replied Heather.

  The towering Shukurae glared at Raymond.

  “I will protect the ladies, both of them, with my life, if needed,” replied Raymond answering the unspoken question hanging in the air.

  Suddenly Heather screamed and swept the leg of one of the Shukurae sending him to the floor. For her action, Heather received the brunt of the attack that would have otherwise killed the warrior as her own Live Steel armor burst into being and soaked a tremendous energy blast that had effortlessly pierced the door. She howled out in rage and pain as she held her ground.

  The Line Centurion grinned broadly as she swept past Heather and returned fire neatly through the hole in the door. “You are a Highland girl of much strength. We thank you, now let us finish the fight, little one.”

  Heather nodded feebly as she doubled over. Raymond carried her deeper into the building with Chloë close behind.

  “You didn’t have to do that,” muttered Raymond as he tried to sit Heather in a chair.

  “I couldn’t just stand there and let that guy get shot in the back,” retorted Heather as she fought through the pain and tried to regain her composure. “If I was better, I would have been able to shield us both. I’m just not that good.” There was disappointment hanging in Heather’s voice.

  “You are a sixteen year old girl,” reprimanded Raymond. “You are not a professional soldier and no one is asking you to be one. Your gamble paid off; Reinhardt’s troops are totally outclassed out there.”

  �
��See, Chloë,” offered Heather as she desperately clung to consciousness, “the Shukurae are a wonderful group of people.”

  “Honest and noble,” agreed Chloë tearfully as she watched Heather pass out. “Is she going to be okay?” Chloë asked with panic in her voice.

  “She has no real physical injuries,” observed Raymond. “Her mind was overloaded with pain. She should be fine once she has time to rest. The armor of the Highlanders is hard to crack. Had her armor been stripped from her under the weight of that blast, then I would be worried for her.”

  Suddenly the Line Centurion and five other Shukurae burst into the room. She melted in a way that Chloë didn’t imagine was possible upon seeing the unconscious form of Heather. “How bad are her injuries?”

  “Her system was overloaded with pain; she should recover well if she can sleep,” offered Raymond.

  The Line Centurion knelt and carefully caressed Heather’s form like only a mother could do before offering, “I am Line Centurion Watzkel. I promise we will get all of you safely out of here.” She offered a feeble laugh. “That is if you stop trying to help.” She kissed Heather on the head before standing, stretching her great form, cueing her radio and barking in her native tongue.

  Chloë just stood there with Raymond, holding Heather and watching the world around them.

  “If I am following them correctly, they have routed most of Reinhardt’s troops in this area, and the gunfight has now shifted towards the dock and the remaining ships,” offered Raymond. “I’ve not had to follow their language since I was in prep-school.”

  “You are fundamentally correct,” offered Watzkel over her shoulder. “The concern now is to ensure that all the transports are not damaged.”

  “If things go wrong, we could be stranded?” asked Chloë.