“You should get some rest, Lancer,” Nilsinian said.
“I keep hearing that. Don’t worry, I’m going back to my quarters as soon as I have a talk with Herot.” She noted that the Guards had wisely separated Herot from his captors by the length of the cabin. Oren and Dalset were bound to the front-row seats, where they studiously avoided looking at her. Herot was asleep in the farthest rear-facing row, his seat reclined as far as it would go. “Nice to see that someone is getting some sleep,” she said as she headed down the aisle.
He didn’t move when she slipped into the last row to take the seat facing him, and she used the opportunity to study him more closely. According to his medical report, his injuries showed evidence of two separate beatings, one considerably harsher than the other. Tal guessed that the second, nastier beating had been after his escape attempt. Other than the broken ankle, the injuries were limited to bruising and scrapes, though some of the bruises were quite deep. Dermal treatment had healed all but the deepest, and his ankle was now in a hard case. She suspected that he was enjoying his first pain-free sleep in six days, and felt almost guilty about waking him.
“Herot,” she said in a low voice. “Wake up.”
The muddled emotions of sleep jumped to the higher plane of awareness, but he didn’t move, feigning unconsciousness.
“Herot. We need to talk.”
His eyes flew open. “Oh, it’s you. I thought I was back there.”
As he yawned and stretched, she wondered if he was aware that it had been her order to leave him unbound. Prisoners were not normally left to run around free, but he wasn’t going anywhere.
Pulling his cased ankle into a more comfortable position, he looked up at her in resignation. “Is this the long talk you threatened me with last night?”
“Probably not. But we need to get a few things out of the way.”
He twisted in his seat, looking toward the front of the cabin, then settled back with a sigh. “She didn’t come, did she?”
“She’s asleep.”
He bit his lip. “Is she ever going to talk to me again?”
“Knowing Salomen, yes, eventually. But not this morning. She’s having some…mixed emotions about you.”
Salomen was right; that irritating edge of arrogance and entitlement was gone. In some ways, his emotions felt younger. There was a bewilderment mixed in with his guilt and fear, and the longing of a child for comfort. Salomen was the closest thing Herot had to a mother figure, and she had made her anger abundantly clear. For the first time, Tal felt a tiny stirring of sympathy for him.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I’ve been wanting to tell you that for days. I tried last night, but you wouldn’t let me. I tried to tell Salomen, too, but she hardly even looked at me.”
Her sympathy vanished. “Perhaps you might have noticed that we were a little busy trying to save Colonel Micah’s life.”
“I know, but Salomen wouldn’t look at me afterward, either. Even when we flew the transport to the base. I thought maybe she’d come talk to me when I was moved to this transport, but she hasn’t.”
“Great Goddess, Herot!” Tal saw her Guards look toward her, then quickly away again. She lowered her voice. “In all those days you were a prisoner, didn’t you spend any time thinking about what you’ve done?”
“Of course I did! What else did I have to think about? I even prayed to Fahla for the chance to see my family one last time, just so I could tell them how sorry I was. I never really believed that she answered prayers, but here I am, she gave me the chance, and Salomen won’t even see me!”
Tal took a deep breath and tried to rein in her impatience. After all, Herot had missed a few details in his absence.
“Salomen prayed, too. She was worried sick about you.”
“She was?” The hope that bloomed through his emotions startled her with its intensity. “I didn’t know. She was so angry last night.”
“It’s possible to be angry and worried at the same time. You’ve put her through Fahla’s own nightmares. You have no idea how much damage you caused.”
He looked down. “Yes, I do. Believe me, I do.”
“No,” she said firmly. “You don’t. Because you think the worst thing you did was act like a fantenshekken when you were drunk and say some stupid things that had unfortunate consequences. You think a simple apology will fix it, but it won’t. Not until you understand.”
“What else can I do besides apologize? I can’t change what happened.”
“But you can change your understanding of what happened. You didn’t just talk like a drunken dokker. You betrayed a trust. You betrayed the hospitality of your home. In some ways that’s even worse than betraying me personally, but you did that, too. I watched your message, Herot. You said you were glad I only sustained a minor injury. Do you realize what you were saying, even while you were trying to apologize? You were saying, ‘I’m glad she was only hurt a little.’ Not, ‘I’m so sorry she was hurt; thank Fahla it wasn’t worse.’ There’s an enormous difference.”
“I didn’t think of it like that. It’s not what I meant.”
“Isn’t it?” She held his gaze, willing him to face it. “Can you tell me that you were truly sorry I was hurt at all? Or were you sorry about the destruction to your home and the fact that you had just turned yourself into a criminal and hurt your entire family?”
There was a long silence. “I was sorry about everything,” he said at last. “But…I was more sorry about the rest than about you. But you weren’t hurt badly.”
She wanted to shake him. “Will you listen to yourself? Whether or not I was badly hurt is not the point!”
Frowning, he looked away, and she forced herself to calm down and regroup.
“Let me ask you this,” she said in a quieter tone. “When you were telling Cullom which window to shoot at, did you ever stop to think that I wouldn’t be the only one in the room? You told him I was there at a certain time every night, but the reason I was there at those times was because I was meeting with your sister. You knew that. But you were being such a selfish ass that you didn’t think beyond your immediate desire of hurting me. What if you’d hurt Salomen instead?”
He stared in dawning horror. “She was there?”
“She was the one in the window seat. Not me. She almost died, Herot. That plasma shot was aimed at her, and you’re the one who told Cullom where to aim it.”
“Wh—” He clutched his stomach with a pained groan. “Oh, no. No, no, I didn’t know…Salomen…”
“You didn’t know because you didn’t think. You turned selfishness and self-pity into an art form, and it nearly killed your sister. Do you suppose a simple apology will fix it now?”
His eyes were brimming with tears. “I don’t know,” he whispered. “I don’t know how to apologize for that. There’s nothing I can say. Fahla forgive me, I never thought…”
“No, you didn’t. And then you ran like a coward instead of facing your family. They were cleaning up the destruction, Salomen was at the healing center with me and Micah, and on top of everything else, they had to worry about you. For six days you let them wonder whether you actually meant to cause that much damage, or whether you’d just done it because you were thoughtless and dangerously stupid.”
The tears overflowed. “I know I was a coward. I’m sorry, Fahla, I’m so sorry! I’ll do anything to make it right.”
“You can start by telling your sister the truth. Not the dokshin you just tried to feed me. Don’t tell her you never meant for anyone to get hurt, because she knows better. That’s why she’s so angry. She spent five nights in the healing center with me, knowing that her own brother helped put me there. It wasn’t a minor injury, Herot. That’s just what the media was told. You succeeded in hurting me; I was severely burned over half my body. But you hurt
Salomen more. My injuries were just physical, but hers go far deeper. She lives every day with the knowledge that you almost got her killed through sheer spite and small-mindedness. Her own burns were nothing compared to that. And you didn’t even stay around to see how badly she was hurt.”
A great, gulping sob escaped, and he clutched his stomach again, bending over as he cried. She watched him with very little pity, but as he continued to weep, she finally felt her own anger giving way to a quieter sorrow over the whole situation.
“There’s something you need to know,” she said more gently.
“Wh…what?” He took a deep breath, trying to get himself under control.
“In three hanticks, my communications advisor will hold a media conference to make a special announcement. Salomen and I have set a bonding date for the twenty-third of Rosslin.”
His weeping stopped with his breathing as he stared at her. “A bonding date?” he managed. “You and Salomen?”
She smiled for the first time. “My intentions were always more honorable than you gave me credit for. Your sister will be the Bondlancer of Alsea.”
Though his shock faded, he seemed incapable of speech.
“I petitioned your father for inclusion, and he accepted me. Your family is my family now, so you’ll have to get used to the idea. I’m not going away. Ever. That’s another reason Salomen is so angry. She would have been furious if you’d hurt anyone under her roof, but you happened to hurt her chosen bondmate.”
“Shek,” he whispered. “Bondlancer?”
She nodded, and he sagged back against his seat. When nothing else was forthcoming, she dropped the topic.
“I have to send you back to Blacksun soon. Before you go, I’d like to know what happened after you were taken from the Napoline transit station. How did those two warriors convince you to go with them?”
He looked as if he had eaten something sour. “They told me you sent them, and that you’d worked out a deal with the High Tribunal so I wouldn’t face charges. I thought the whole world had magically righted itself.” He gave a derisive snort. “I was an idiot. I believed them. So I went with them, and as soon as we got into the transport, I knew it was a mistake, because it was filthy. Your Guards don’t even let their boots get dirty; they’d never allow their transport to look like that one did. So I tried to get out, but Oren punched me in the face. I fought back, but he was too big and too fast. And when we got to that house, he put me in the room and told me that I needed to learn a lesson about touching them.”
“A memorable lesson, I take it.” Tal gestured toward the fading bruises on his face, and he nodded.
“Part of me felt like I deserved it. I didn’t think I could get any lower. But every tick from that point on, there was a guard in the room with me, holding a disruptor. One of them told me that he had no idea why they wanted me alive, since their orders were to kill me if anyone other than them tried to get to me. I kept looking at that disruptor and thinking I didn’t want to die. After two days of it, I snapped. Dalset was the one holding the disruptor then. I waited until she was distracted and jumped her. I thought if I could get her disruptor, maybe I could escape. But I wasn’t good enough.”
“You jumped Dalset?” A light dawned. “Are you the reason her nose is bandaged?”
“I broke it. She paid me back by breaking my ankle. I thought she broke my ribs, too, but the healer said they were just severely bruised. I gave up hope then. It was just a matter of time before I died. And then yesterday, you came.”
“And you thought I was there to kill you.”
He looked away, embarrassed. “I hate that you can feel everything.”
“Actually, I couldn’t feel you then,” she said. “Lead Guard Vellmar wrapped her front around you to keep your emotions from warning any of your other captors. But it was written all over your face.”
“You killed Swifan,” he whispered. “You killed him and your expression didn’t even change. It was nothing to you. You even shushed me while you were doing it—and then you smiled afterward. I thought I was next.”
“Sorry to disappoint. At least you’re consistent in always expecting the worst of me.”
“Does Salomen know what you do?”
“Does she know I’m a cold-blooded killer, is that what you mean?” Her anger was rising again. “No. She knows that I’m a warrior and that I do precisely what I have to. And you should thank our Goddess for that, because if I and fourteen other warriors hadn’t been prepared to kill in order to save you, you would have died yesterday and we wouldn’t be having this conversation about my killing instincts. Unlike you, Salomen knows who I really am. She also knows exactly what I did yesterday and what it cost me. If you want to learn any more about that, you’ll have to ask her.”
“What do you mean, what it cost you?”
She looked at him for several pipticks as he grew progressively more uncomfortable.
“Just think about it,” she said. “Put yourself in someone else’s place for once in your whole damned life and try to imagine it. I never saw that man before, but I had to watch him die. I had to feel him die. To save you.” She shook her head. “We’re drifting off the navigation beacon. I came here to ask if you would be willing to testify to the Council about your experience.”
“Ah…do you need me to?”
“It would be helpful, yes. If you want to make things right with Salomen, you can start with this. The man responsible for your kidnapping was Prime Warrior Shantu. He’s one of the most powerful Alseans on the Council. Since I’ve put out a criminal warrant on him, the other Council members will be questioning why. Your testimony will make it very clear.”
He furrowed his brow. “Why would the Prime Warrior want to kidnap me?”
“For the same reason you told Cullom Bilsner where to aim. He wants to hurt me. Though he’s after a political wound, while you were after a physical one. It’s ironic, don’t you think? You became a weapon, and the reason you were chosen is because of what you did.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Shantu was going to kill you and frame me for your murder. Then he could lead a caste coup against me. You were his ticket to the title of Lancer.”
“But I’m—oh.” A sharp edge punctured his comprehension. “That’s why you rescued me. To save your title.”
“I was already looking for you before you were kidnapped, Herot. Before I had any idea about Shantu and his scheme. But if you were hoping that I rescued you because you’re an innocent man who was treated badly, then I’ll have to remind you of something you seem to have overlooked. You’re not an innocent man.”
His gaze dropped as a wave of shame washed through him.
“Will you testify?” she asked again.
“Yes,” he said, still not meeting her eyes. “I owe it to you.”
Tal started to correct him but changed her mind. “Thank you. I’ll tell Salomen you asked after her.” She rose and was halfway down the aisle when his voice stopped her.
“Lancer Tal!”
She paused, her back to him.
“Please. I need to know something.”
With a sigh, she turned around. “What is it?” she asked when she reached him.
“You said Salomen was in the window seat. But you were the one who was hurt. What happened?”
He reminded her of Salomen as he looked up at her, and she finally realized why. For the first time in their acquaintance, he was showing concern for someone other than himself.
“I felt Cullom on the property,” she said. “His emotions gave him away. I pulled Salomen out of the window seat just in time, but I couldn’t get us far enough back to avoid the molten glass from the window. One of us was going to be burned…and I couldn’t let it be her.”
“But you said she was burn
ed.”
“She was. But only on the parts of her legs that I couldn’t cover. I couldn’t save her from everything, though Fahla knows I tried.”
He stared at her for a long moment before looking out the window. “I never took Cullom seriously. He was so angry about everything, all the time. I think that’s why we became friends, because I was angry, too. We fueled each other. At the end, he was furious about what he thought you were doing to our caste—and about his father losing face after he’d taken such a public stand against you and saying you had to be stopped. It made all of them look stupid.”
When he turned back, there was a new sharpness in his gaze. “But I think he always hated Salomen, too. Because she refused Gordense’s bond offer, and everyone in Granelle knew it. Everyone knew Iversina was the second choice. And then word got out about Salomen being your lover, and Gordense tried to throw that in her face at the caste house meeting, and she reminded him in front of Iversina and every landholder in the district that she’d turned him down. Gordense lost a lot of respect. Cullom said the whole town was laughing at them. And I wonder…I just wonder if he didn’t care who he hurt, you or Salomen.”
“If that’s the case, then I have even less pity for him now than before. And I had none before.”
“I want to tear out his throat,” Herot said flatly. “You’d better make certain we never meet, or my sentence will be a lot longer. I think that’s Fahla’s joke on me—someone I thought was my friend almost killed my sister, and someone I thought was my enemy saved her. I will never be able to thank you enough for that.”
Great Mother, Herot Opah thanking her? The world had come to an end.
“You don’t have to,” she said. “I did it for her. And for myself. It would have destroyed me if anything had happened to her.”
“It kills me just thinking about it. I don’t blame her for not wanting to talk to me after that. I wouldn’t either.”
Without a Front: The Warrior's Challenge (Chronicles of Alsea Book 3) Page 33