by Susan Grant
Heavy boots hit the ground which sounded gritty, slushy.
“Wake up! Freepin’ lazy ass! Vacation’s over. Time to get to work.”
Water hit him in the face and nearly threw him over. Instinctively, he tried to right himself, causing excruciating pain where the cuffs dug into his flesh. A groan slipped past his clenched teeth. Don’t show them pain.
“Hit him again. I told you we shouldn’t have taken on these Channels scum. They don’t like to work, and then they die on you.”
Drakken. He knew that accent. The cadence and the guttural twist of the language they both shared was unmistakable. It confirmed what he already suspected—he’d been conscripted into the Imperial Army.
“But they can carry a gun,” another said, “and I need the warm bodies. We’re losing them by the thousands at the front. These will have to do. But they stink like yar-offal. I’m not giving them to Battle-Lord Harekkeen smelling like this. Clean them up, war sergeant.”
Them. Were his men alive? Gods above, had his crew survived? He couldn’t fathom being here alone.
No pirate captured and conscripted ever walked free. They died in captivity not because they couldn’t tolerate the cruelty and violence, but because they couldn’t live caged and without their clans around them. Even now he couldn’t wrap his mind around not seeing his people again. Or Val’s. He knew that once she heard the message from Yarmouth, she’d want to search for him. Fates, he hoped not personally. She was young enough, inexperienced enough and cocky enough to risk any danger to do what was right. That was what he was afraid of. Imagining her in Drakken hands was a nightmare he blasted well couldn’t touch.
More water and foamy soap flooded the holding cell. It got in his eyes and made them water and sting. He spat out the bitter taste. There was laughter, and Dake was hit with the full force of the water hose again. The agony nearly knocked him out. Part of him wished he could pass out and be done with it. The larger part of him wanted to show this Drakken what he was made of.
What his people were made of.
In between hose blasts, Dake squinted at the form of his tormentor—a sinewy soldier seeming to enjoy aiming where it would cause the most pain: the raw, torn flesh, the freshest bruises. He saw Dake’s regard and smiled, revealing a jeweled tooth. One side of his face was tattooed in the Drakken way, and his ears glittered with Hordish jewelry. Was this his future? Monsters like this in control of his mind and body?
“Get up!”
The chains were yanked, gripped in the war sergeant’s tattooed hand as if he were controlling a vicious dog, a dog to be punished. Dake weaved, dripping with watered-down soap, hoping he didn’t topple over in that moment of exquisite pain, of utter despair, that he and whoever of his crew who’d survived were going to be the exception. He owed it to the Surebloods. He owed it to Val. His future was with them, and Val, and not as a short-lived conscript in the Drakken Imperial Army. He’d figure a way out. A way back home.
“Get along now,” the higher ranking soldier said. An officer, Dake guessed. “You’re heading out to training. As an Imperial soldier.”
The war sergeant broke in. “For once in your life you’re going to work hard. You better like it because it’s the last job you’ll ever have.” Laughing, he yanked on the chains attached to Dake’s wrist cuffs to make him walk.
Gritting his teeth against the agony, Dake met the Drakken’s dark, malevolent eyes. I won’t groan or swear. I won’t give you the pleasure.
The march from the holding cell to another troop carrier began. Others fell in step. Familiar faces. He saw his second-in-command, Kage, chained, hunched over and his face so swollen and bruised he was barely recognizable. And there was young Squib, shaking uncontrollably. Dake tried to meet his eyes, but the boy’s gaze darted as if he saw everyone as an enemy, even Dake. Only now did Dake know true anguish. What he felt physically was nothing compared to the sight of his Sureblood clansmen herded like animals into the belly of a Drakken warship.
He saw no more of his men. Could it be they were all who survived? “Have you seen the others?” he whispered.
A fist in his jaw rewarded his attempt to find out the whereabouts of his raiders from Tomark’s Pride, men he’d handpicked to attend the gathering because they were his best.
He staggered, tasting blood. It may only be him, Squib and Kage. But he was still their captain, and all of them top Sureblood raiders. He’d keep them going by reminding them of their reason to live: to get home again. As for himself, he had a mission to finish when he got there: uniting the clans and ending Nezerihm’s reign of power over his people. That vow gave him the will to go on.
VAL DUCKED INSIDE THE Varagon’s cargo bay to escape a soaking downpour. It was the wettest spring in memory. It was as if the world of Artoom was crying for Blue clan’s loss.
After two weeks of official mourning and clan meetings, and another two back to normal operations, she had found no clue as to how Conn Blue had ended up with an overdose of sharken, a substance everyone claimed he didn’t use. And they were no closer to finding out why Sethen’s ship had collided with one of the many rocks in the Channels either. Grizz and a team of raiders and mechanics were in the process of sifting through the wreckage collected. She held fast to the hope they’d find proof of Nezerihm’s involvement. The elusive smoking dozer. If they didn’t, a darker truth would have to be examined, one that tortured her day and night: the meaning of Dake Sureblood’s disappearance.
“If it’s got thrusters or testicles it’s going to give you trouble,” Grandmama Uhsula had assured her with a spirited cackle, trying to make her feel better, but trouble didn’t fit her impression of Dake. Where was he? Why hadn’t he called? She frowned as she clenched a fist, shaking water off her leather coat. Dake’s pretty words filled her head still, like butterflies she couldn’t catch. His vow that if Nezerihm assassinated Conn, they’d wreak vengeance as one people—Blues and Surebloods, and all the clans—had inspired her on the darkest day of her life. When Dake preached unity, radiating his passion for the subject, he gave her hope they could carry on the work of their fathers together. The mission would help her heal and find closure, as well as sweet revenge.
United. Bah. Fine show of unity on Dake’s part, vanishing like he did!
Her stomach clenched. Sweat tickled her brow and she took deep breaths to stave off her queasiness and her misgivings. Surely by now Dake should have quietly contacted her to see how she was doing. The first week had passed by with no word. She hadn’t really expected one, although she’d secretly hoped. After two weeks, she’d begun to wonder if clan duties of his own had him swamped. By week three, she’d bounced between hurt and annoyed. Had the slango and what they shared afterward meant that little to him? It brought back the humiliation she’d felt after Ayl had abandoned her in much the same way. By month’s end, doubt had taken over.
Now with each day that passed, her dread that she’d misjudged him grew. What if Dake’s warnings about Nezerihm were only to throw her off the truth? What if Dake meant to distract her with his charm to keep her from guard duty and busy in bed while his men poisoned Blue clan’s leader? In sending him away from Artoom against many clansmen’s wishes, had she allowed him to get away with the perfect crime?
Crazy thoughts. Unproven thoughts. She tried to ignore them as she climbed down the ladder where Grizz waited for her. She was exhausted but tried to hide it. No one must know that each night the nightmarish what-ifs robbed her of sleep and energy, or that each morning she bore the consequences of her actions with an upset stomach.
“Good morn to you, girl,” Grizz said and somberly pulled a tarp off a pile of twisted and scorched metal parts so Val could inspect the remains of Sethen’s ship fished out of space and carried back to Artoom. “We’ve been through it piece by piece. It was a high-velocity crash, head-on into the asteroid. It shattered the asteroid and spread the wreckage widely. This is it, I’m afraid.”
All that was left of her brother
, she thought. Who’d be in her place right now if he hadn’t planted himself on an asteroid. Sethen wasn’t the most reliable of raiders, but she’d thought him better than this. She picked up one of the long ribbons of zelfen, the only parts not distorted beyond recognition.
“There’s just enough here to identify it was the Hareen,” Grizz explained as she ran a finger along the metal strip.
“With Sethen in command and twenty raiders with him,” she said quietly. “A hard loss for the clan. Able-bodied men aren’t around in infinite numbers.”
“Any luck with the recruiting call for females to serve as raiders?”
“Some interest, no takers.” Just like her and men, she thought, studying her reflection in the strip of zelfen, seeing a girl who was a fool with men. Not once but twice, and this time with deadly consequences. Yet the memory of that wrenching look in Dake’s eyes before he left still had the power to twist her heart. She’d believed that glance cemented the beginning of a relationship. A month and no word from him, not even a “it was nice but.” When it came to men, it was clear she had no judgment.
And it cost her father his life.
A pang of guilt, her constant companion, made her wince.
Grizz paused to observe her. “You’re looking pale.”
She shrugged it off. “When was the last time any of us saw the sun?”
“It’s more than that, Val. You’re not the same, and it ain’t only the grieving for your father.”
She sighed wearily. “He should have called by now. Dake.”
“Don’t know why he hasn’t. That boy was interested in you. Half in love, I’d say.”
“Love. Bah. Lust, you mean.”
Grizz’s eyes took on a certain amused sparkle. “Lust has formed the roots of many a lasting relationship in this clan. Your parents, for one.”
“Grizz,” she protested.
“It was more than just that with that Sureblood boy, though. He respected you, admired you. I saw it, and so did Conn. He wouldn’t have otherwise given his blessing to court you. That was a lot for your father, you know, trusting another man with his little girl. Not anything he’d do lightly. You were the light of his life, Val.”
She couldn’t watch Grizz’s face as he said it. It magnified her own grief and turned it painful and fresh again. “If my father’s instincts were as good as you say, then why haven’t we heard from the Sureblood?”
“There’s got to be a reason for it,” he insisted. “Some logical explanation.”
“Like what, Grizz? Like what? Doesn’t he realize how guilty this makes him look?”
He exhaled, rubbing his jaw. For a moment she saw the doubts she struggled with reflected in his rugged face. So, he also wondered if the Sureblood fooled them all. Then he spread his raid-worn hands. “Wish I knew the answer, girl.”
“So do I.” She swallowed hard. “You don’t think he did it…do you? We never found hard evidence—”
“Girl, I know what I see when I see a man! That one had honor and courage. He was a cocky young bastard, but I knew he’d outgrow it. They all do, eventually. If I question anything about him, it’s his ways with a lady. Didn’t expect he’d show no real interest in you after going back home.”
No real interest. The words stung.
Grizz shrugged. “But that’s his loss, girl, and that’s the way you gotta see it. As for his hurting Conn, no. It ain’t him. I know it ain’t.”
“Who, then?”
“If we knew, we’d be spitting on his corpse right now, wouldn’t we?”
Val turned her focus toward the bridge and the comm panel where she could call to Parramanta, tempted to go ahead and do it once and for all.
No. He knows where to find you. Pride had kept her from making the call for weeks. Was it time to give in?
Then her belt comm vibrated, nearly sending her through the roof. Crazily, she thought it was Dake. Her confused feelings about him scattered and vanished like a school of minnows in the shallows. All doubts would be put to rest once they spoke. She snatched the comm to answer. “It’s the Farsider,” Grizz said.
Only then did she realize the transmission had come to both their comms simultaneously. It’s not Dake, you idiot. It’s one of your ships. Her hopes fell and shattered. “Go ahead, Farsider.”
“We’re docking now, Val. I’ve got news.”
“Well, I got an ear. What is it?”
“I think it’s better said face-to-face.”
Moments later several of the senior raiders tromped in led by Rellen, Ayl’s father, an experienced, capable man who was as different from his son in actions and attitude as a father could be. Still wet from the rain, they turned to her with grim faces. Rellen reported, “We came upon a convoy hauling goods through Kormanna hollows. The lead ship went on alone. We stalked her through the Channels. We knew no one else had her in their sights. Quite a haul, she’d be, we thought, and none of it to be shared with Nezerihm. She was ours alone, the Blues. And as we moved in to take her, the Surebloods crashed our raid.”
Val’s stomach clenched like a fist at the news. Surebloods. Back to their old tricks. She fought harder than she had at anything in her life not to lose her breakfast. Her silly hopes that this would have a different ending had finally evaporated. Dake Sureblood had never stopped being her enemy. He’d merely set a trap, and she’d skipped right into it. Because of that, her father was dead and her clan in disarray. It proved her judgment wasn’t worth anything. She intended to change that effective immediately.
She never felt so alone and full of hate as she was at that moment. So cold inside, and old before her time. “Grizz, gather the raiders. We’re going to have ourselves a meeting, a war council.” It was time for Dake Sureblood to pay for what he’d done.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
THE PASSING OF CONN may have muted the clan’s spirit the past month, but it wasn’t apparent in the midst of the war council. The gathering was as loud and raucous as ever in the meeting house. Maybe even more so. More was at stake than ever before.
The senior raiders sat at the table. Reeve, Ayl and the other junior raiders filled benches along the walls of the chamber. The outer ring. It was where she’d have been sitting if her world hadn’t changed a month ago almost to the day.
“They made fools of us!” Ragmarrk’s fist landed on the table as he stood to make a point. “They made fools of us because we let them. We gotta stop it right now, right here, and hit them back hard.” The senior raider’s eyes were as brown as winter mud as they narrowed with suspicion at Val. “Unless you’re still soft on them Surebloods.”
Val exhaled and broke off eye contact, feeling the heat of the raiders’ relentless regard, all of them trying to get a read on her loyalties. She, after all, had let Dake Sureblood escape, a decision Ragmarrk wanted to make others believe was a rogue one, and not made with Grizz’s blessing. Getting others to question her loyalty was a brilliant strategy from an experienced old raider. If he eroded the clan’s faith in her, their trust in her ability to lead, then he and his cronies would make a bid for power.
Ayl listened intently but silently. He was too smart to challenge her in front of the rest and risk alienating her—he still fancied her for himself—but everything in his expression said that he, too, thought her soft on the Surebloods. “You’re an idealist,” his eyes projected. “Always seeing the best in people and situations, a lot like your father, if you want to know. Reality is cold, Valeeya. Merciless. To trust the Surebloods or any of the clans is to doom our future. We can’t, and I won’t. Someday you’ll understand why.”
She supposed that she deserved the doubts the men raised. She’d let Dake get away after all. But freepin’ hells if she’d let Ragmarrk separate her from the herd and run her down like a weakening calf.
Tamping down another wave of sickness, perspiring, she stood. Her hands were spread on the table surface as she glared back at Ragmarrk. “We Blues aren’t ever soft on our enemies,” she said, low and thr
eatening. “The Sureblood clan is our enemy. Them greedy bastards want to crash our raids? They want to take what by rights is ours? Then they’ll be looking at our guns!” She slammed two fists on the table.
Cheers filled the room, punctuated by the pounding of hands and boots. She burned with the prospect of retribution, focusing her whole being on punishing Dake…for her weakness.
“We won’t stop there,” she promised. “Every time they go out huntin’ they’ll have to get past us. Every prize they go after, no matter whose it is, they’ll be running from our fire. And if they still won’t stop taking what belongs to others, blood will rain on Parramanta!”
For a startling few seconds it was dead quiet, almost a collective gasp. What she’d proposed was not the pirate way. It was all-out war.
War. Val couldn’t help thinking of Conn and what he’d say about it. He was no dove, but would he have supported war in the conventional sense—against a rival clan? Where’s your pirate honor, girl?
She grimaced, hearing his voice gently asking. Papa, pirate honor died the day your trusted guest, Dake Sureblood, put sharken in your cup. Our world has changed. We have to change with it.
Then it was bedlam all over again. It made it impossible to tell who was for and who was against. “Your clan captain just declared war!” Grizz glared at the gathered raiders, bellowing, “Is it unanimous?”
The thunder of fists hitting the table tallied in the votes. Ragmarrk kept his hands in his lap and abstained.
“The council is over,” Val snapped, thinking how odd it felt saying the words her father always did. Being in Conn’s place as leader remained surreal—and disconcerting. Talk about big boots to fill. Some raiders stayed behind at the table in the meeting house to argue their chosen strategy. Others left for home or duty.
