Escape From Zulaire

by Veronica Scott

  He led her back into the hall, where flames now fully engulfed the ceiling. Doing her best to shield the toddler in her arms, pushing his face against her shoulder, Andi made it to the top of the stairs and sprinted down, staying close to Deverane. Sadu clung to her for dear life. In the foyer, Deverane held up a clenched fist and signaled her to wait while he checked the side corridor. She had to force herself to stay where he’d left her, listening to the great house creak and groan as the fire attacked its supporting timbers. She was coughing nonstop by the time the captain returned, carrying a stack of dripping towels.

  His eyes streamed from the smoke, and there was a scorch mark across one cheek. “All clear this way. I think maybe the bastards have moved on to the next set of victims. Here, let me carry the boy.”

  But Sadu screamed, clutching at Andi’s neck and hair and refusing to go to an unknown person. She warded Deverane off with her hand. “Never mind, I can carry him. Let’s get out of here.”

  “Wait, I’ve got some wet towels, let me drape them over you and the boy. Smoke’s pretty heavy and this’ll help you both breathe while we escape. I don’t need you to pass out from smoke inhalation.” As he was talking, he placed one of the towels over her head and Andi felt some immediate relief from the cool, wet cloth against her lower face. She did her best to cover Sadu’s mouth and nose as the toddler wheezed and coughed.

  “Stay as low as you can and keep close,” Deverane said before he rewrapped the towel draped on his own head and moved off.

  She kept a hand on Deverane’s back as he worked his way past the cook’s body and through the kitchen, out into the cool night air. He didn’t give her a chance to get her breath, but led her all the way into the landscaped garden, settling her and Sadu behind a low, ornamental shrub.

  “Stay here.” He pointed at her for emphasis. “Don’t make a sound, and don’t show yourself to anyone but me. Got it?”

  “Don’t worry. Seeing Iraku…” She swallowed rising nausea and shook her head. “I will not be trusting any Zulairians tonight, of any Clan.”

  Deverane held up his blaster. “Can you fire one of these?”

  “Yes, I’m trained on the civilian model.” Her voice sounded hoarse to her own ears, her throat sore from the smoke. “Won’t you need it?”

  “I have other weapons.” He handed her the blaster. “Keep the kid quiet, whatever you have to do.”

  He watched her check the charge level before crouching low and moving away into the night. Andi supposed he was going to look for his men or transport, or both. Settling into a more comfortable position against the main stem of the shrub, she let Sadu curl up in her lap, his thumb hooked in his mouth. He didn’t make a sound, save for some great silent sobs. Murmuring a soothing lullaby, Andi rocked back and forth, trying to give him some comfort. I wish someone could do the same for me right now.

  Her low-cut garment had dried in the heat from the fire, but the thin fabric offered little protection against the night wind coming from the west. Shivering as the breeze cut across her body, Andi curled more closely around Sadu. The ongoing whine of shots filled the night, punctuated by intermittent screaming. She tried not to think about what must be going on in each of the mansions around the lake—nor about what horros had all too likely happened in the ceremonial house after she and Deverane escaped.

  Sadu snored like a baby pig, drooling on her lap, poor little guy. She shifted him to a more comfortable position, still keeping her grip firm on the blaster. This weapon’s not leaving my hand.

  As a low cry sounded from behind her, Andi stiffened, a fresh spurt of adrenaline jolting through her veins.

  Chapter Three

  Andi whipped her head around in an attempt to locate the source of the moaning. The mewling groan came again, hoarse and low, raising goose bumps along her arms.

  Captain Deverane would take violent exception to what I’m about to do. Managing to get Sadu onto her shoulder without waking him and, clutching the blaster, Andi left her hiding place to investigate. Working her way toward the pitiful sound, she stayed within the shadows of the ornamental hedges. The nightmarish keening came from the small gazebo at the far end of the garden. Well, the rebels aren’t likely to waste the night hanging around to ambush any latecomers…

  I hope.

  She took a deep breath then another. Ready for instant retreat if necessary, Andi stepped into the open space at the gazebo’s entrance, where the two moons provided some light. A body lay sprawled there, facedown, but she knew from the signet ring on his hand that it was Lysanda’s fiancé. The girl was lying crumpled a few feet away, bronze satin dress in stained shreds. Curled in a fetal position on the stone floor, she was crying in heartrending sobs.

  Andi set Sadu on a cushioned chaise to the left of the entrance, careful not to wake him. Kneeling, she turned Lysanda over, choking back a curse at the cuts and bruises. Grabbing a filmy scarf that lay across the railing of the gazebo, Andi ran to soak it in water from the ornate fountain so she could bathe the woman’s injuries. She started to daub at the princess’s bloodstained arms when Lysanda sat upright, drawing in a deep breath, preparing to scream. With one hand Andi covered her mouth while reaching for the blaster with the other.

  The intruder stepped forward, and the moonlight gleamed on his captain’s bars.

  Lowering the weapon, Andi sank back on her heels with a sigh of relief. “Oh, it’s you—thank the Lords.”

  “I told you to stay put, damn it, not go off on search-and-rescue ops. Where’s the little boy?” Radiating tension and anger, Deverane spoke barely above a whisper. Three Sectors soldiers and the tall Shenti warrior followed him. Assessing the cringing Lysanda in one rapid glance, the captain gave an order. “Wilson, diagnostic, on the double. Will the girl live or do we leave her?”

  After the events of the night, Andi hadn’t thought anything could still astonish or appall her. Deverane’s order did both. “Leave her? You can’t be serious. What if the raiders come back?”

  “We have to move fast, and we have to leave the area now. No time for a dying woman.” The captain’s face was emotionless. He barely glanced at Andi before he went back to evaluating the surroundings for any threats.

  “But this is Tonkiln’s daughter.” Andi smoothed Lysanda’s hair away from her face so Deverane could see for himself.

  “I don’t care if she’s the Outlier Empress, we’re in a bad situation. I can’t carry dying locals out of here with me.” He scowled at Andi, eyebrows drawn together, eyes hooded. “Will you please try to remember the Sectors doesn’t want to get involved? My orders are specific. We’re here for you, not for them.” He turned on his heel, cradling his weapon. “Wilson, damn it, double-time here!”

  Murmuring reassurance into Lysanda’s ear, Andi clutched the girl’s trembling hand as the sergeant ran a quick med diagnostic. Weeping, Lysanda hid her face on Andi’s shoulder. When Wilson didn’t immediately report to the captain, Andi felt hopeful. Plucking a medinject from his supplies, the sergeant gave the injured woman a dose of something. That’s got to be a good sign. He wouldn’t waste his supplies if she was dying. Would he?

  Glancing around, she noted how the Shenti warrior and the other two men had taken up positions around the perimeter of the gazebo. Hyper alert, weapons at the ready, the soldiers were scanning for any sign of renewed enemy presence. Deverane walked back, waiting for the sergeant’s report.

  “No life-threatening injuries, sir. She’s in shock,” Wilson said as he closed his medkit.

  “Hardly surprising.” Deverane tapped the fingers of his free hand on the blaster he’d apparently acquired somewhere during his reconnaisance. His eyes flicked from the sergeant to Lysanda and then back to scanning the perimeter. “Tell me something I don’t know from looking at her.”

  “I’ve given her a tranquilizer and some antibiotics.” Sergeant Wilson stood, shifting his pack onto his back again. Taking a closer look at him, Andi realized he was the same man she’d met on the lawn earl
ier in the day, his cheerful, easy going demeanor a victim of the night’s tragedies. He was in combat mode now, grim faced and edgy like the others.

  Taking another look at the traumatized woman, the captain clenched his jaw. “Can she walk?”

  Wilson shook his head. “Not right now. I think I can carry her, sir.”

  Deverane nodded curt permission. “All right. We take her. She’s going to be your responsibility,” he said to Andi. “Like the kid.”

  Taking a deep breath, she relaxed, relief flooding through her like a cool wave. The task of minding the two Tonkilns would be a challenge, but she’d do whatever it took to get these survivors to safety. She wanted to achieve something good to balance the overwhelming horror of the massacre. “Fine.”

  “Give Miss Markriss a pack, Latvik.” The captain summoned the nearest soldier, who wore one pack on his back and carried another looped over his free arm.

  The man slung his weapon over one shoulder, holding out the spare pack to Andi. The bag was heavy, dragging her hands down before she realized how much it weighed. She looked at the sergeant. “What do you have me carrying? Ore from the mines?”

  “Supplies, ma’am. Field rations, water, blaster charges, things like that. No rocks, I promise.” Wilson gave her a fleeting, tired grin.

  Deverane reclaimed his blaster from her, trading her an extra from one of the packs. He also handed her a pair of sandals. “Figured you’d need something for those bare feet. Took these off one of those poor bastards in the house.” He shoved them at her when Andi hesitated. “There’s a shirt in the pack. Put it on. Can’t have you freezing.”

  “And Lysanda? Her dress is half torn off.” Andi struggled into the oversized camouflage shirt she found in the backpack. Trying not to speculate who had owned the sandals before tonight, she tugged the simple leather shoes on. These are going to chafe my feet, but anything’s better than going barefoot in the jungle.

  The captain gestured to the other soldier, summoning him. “Rogers, give An—Miss Markriss your extra shirt.”

  Shucking his pack, Rogers rummaged through it then offered a second shirt to Andi. Working as fast as she could, she got the garment on Lysanda, who offered no help but also no resistance. This is like dressing an oversize doll. “Ready.”

  “None too soon.” The captain’s voice sounded clipped and tight. Edgy. He looked her up and down once, with none of the appreciation he’d shown earlier at the dance, then turned away to issue crisp orders.

  Andi felt reassured. He’s all warrior now, which is what we need to get us safely out of here.

  “All right, Latvik, take point.” Deverane pointed at the Shenti warrior. “Abukawal, watch our backs. Let’s move it, people, before those terrorists get organized and sweep for survivors.”

  He helped Andi get the drugged Lysanda to her feet so Wilson could hoist her over his shoulders. Next, Andi retrieved Sadu, still napping on the cushions where she’d left him. As the captain hurried them out of the gazebo and through the length of the garden, Andi breathed a heartfelt sigh of relief. Crossing the boundary into the jungle proper with no sign of roving renegades was even more reassuring.

  Deverane set a fast pace. Andi walked beside the sergeant, taking three steps for every one of his long-legged strides, despite his double burden of pack and injured woman. Annoyed by the way the straps of her pack dug into her shoulders with every step, Andi made futile adjustments. “What’s your secret, Wilson? How come you aren’t winded yet?”

  “Special Forces training, ma’am,” he said. “Best conditioning in the Sectors. I’ve carried wounded men three times the size of this little lady.”

  “Where are we going?” Andi asked. As Deverane came up behind her, she startled.

  “We’re going south for now,” he said, squeezing her shoulder for reassurance. “How are we doing back here?”

  “Fine, sir, no problem.” Wilson wasn’t even breathing hard.

  “Andi?” The captain eyed her.

  “Yeah, we’re just great.” She thanked the Lords of Space for the compulsory grav training her company insisted agents keep up. She might not have the conditioning of the soldiers, but she could hold her own for now. ”So you’re telling me we have no destination in mind?”

  Falling into step with her, Deverane pulled branches out of her path as she worked her way through a stand of large, fernlike bushes. “Too much likelihood of running into the rebels again if we try for the main transportway. I need another plan, but south is the right direction, no matter what.”

  “What happened to the APC? Why can’t we just escape in it?” Andi tripped over a vine. His hand shot out to steady her.

  “Remember the big explosion in the transport garage? That was when the APC slagged. It was sabotaged.” Even in the moonlight, Andi could see the captain’s grim expression.

  “Not many ways to sabotage an APC.” Sergeant Wilson shifted Lysanda on his shoulders. “Terrorists on backwater planets normally wouldn’t even know how to try.”

  “Yeah. Something doesn’t add up here.” Deverane was frowning again, head tilted. Rubbing his forehead with one hand, he sighed. “We don’t have the luxury of time right now to figure it out.”

  Their ragged column emerged into a clear space in the forest.

  “I’m going to check with Latvik.” Deverane broke into a quick trot and pulled ahead of Andi and the sergeant.

  She watched him go. Which reminds me, where is everyone else? “Sergeant, can I ask you a question? Something’s been bothering me.”

  “Yes, ma’am?” Wilson’s voice was neutral.

  Not sure she wanted the answer, Andi hesitated a second. “Where are the other men? Are they meeting us somewhere?”

  The sergeant spared a second to glance sideways at Andi. His eyes were narrowed, his lips tight. “They’re dead. Poisoned, I think. The Tonkilns’ snooty butler…”

  “Iraku.” Uttering that murderer’s name filled her with revulsion and disbelief. Why did he turn on the Tonkilns? He’s Naranti, sworn to neutrality and service! She blotted out the chaotic thoughts running through her head to listen to Wilson’s answer.

  “Well, he came around at dinnertime, all apologetic for the inconvenience we were suffering, bunking in a damn garage. As if it hadn’t been his idea in the first place. He offered to have the maids bring food so at least we wouldn’t have to eat field rations.” Wilson snorted. “I didn’t partake. Fancy stuff doesn’t agree with this boy’s stomach, not on any world, even my own.” He rubbed his flat abdomen, shaking his head, apparently remembering some unpleasant past experiences. Pushing past a stubborn bush, turning his body to shield Lysanda from the prickly branches as he walked, he went on with the story. Gesturing at the two soldiers trudging ahead of them, he said, “Rogers and Latvik were asleep on the second floor, catchin’ up on rack time. They pulled the all-night-drive duty after we were diverted here to find you.”

  Wilson marched in silence for a few yards. “Abukawal was off hunting his own dinner. Said he couldn’t abide field rations or Obati food. My other three men took a break from working on the APC engine to eat. When I came back from squaring away some gear, I found them dead. Not a good way to go.”

  Unsure what to say, Andi made herself keep walking. This whole night has been one long horror story.

  Doggedly, Wilson continued to fulfill her request for information. “Next thing I know, we’re under attack. I go to the stairs to yell for Latvik and Rogers, which saves my life, because I’d been standing right next to the APC. If it had blown one minute sooner, I wouldn’t be here, carryin’ your little lady friend to safety.”

  What small things make the difference between living and dying. Andi shivered. I was so lucky not to die myself tonight. “Then what?”

  “Well, the three of us were trapped on the second floor of the garage, which was burning down around our ears, and the terrorists were waiting for us to pop out. We got ourselves and as much gear as we could onto the roof, and we were ha
ving some luck picking off attackers stupid enough to show themselves.”

  “I thought I heard blaster fire.” Andi adjusted Sadu more comfortably on her hip and kept walking.

  “Yes, ma’am, we gave a good account of ourselves.” He bared his teeth in a wolfish smile. Shifting Lysanda a bit on his shoulders, he stood up straighter as he strode forward. “It discouraged the bastards, and they decided to go somewhere else to have their fun. Probably figured we’d die in the burnin’ building. They left two men on guard to make sure. Abukawal snuck up behind and slit their throats. Handy guy, Abukawal.”

  “What is a western Shenti doing traveling with Sectors soldiers? Is he a recruit or something?” How can they be so sure they can trust him? Although if he saved their lives, I guess that’s a point in his favor. The world as she knew it was upside down if the Neutral Naranti were murdering Overlord Obati now, while the Shenti Seconds were stepping in to be heroes. She glanced ahead, at the broad back of the Zulairian warrior.

  “We don’t recruit locals, ma’am. He’s comin’ to the capital with us to testify to the Planetary High Lord about dirty dealings the Naranti in his area was up to. So anyway, ol’ Abukawal helped get us off the roof. I was ready to take a recon run around the lake to find you and the captain, when he comes up on us from the direction of the big house.” Chuckling, Wilson shot Andi a sideways glance. “Latvik almost shot him. We was pretty keyed up. Sure glad you and the captain made it out of the ambush in one piece.”

  Andi glanced ahead to where Deverane led the column. If I’d been inside the dance hall when the terrorists attacked, could I have gotten myself out somehow? Would he have been able to rescue me? Having seen the captain in action, she figured he would have found a way, even against dismal odds.

  As if the mere mention of his name had conjured him out of the air, Deverane circled back to check on them. “Save your breath, Sergeant, Miss Markriss. We need to make serious time here, not discuss current events.”

  Unable to argue with his logic, Andi trudged onward, obeying orders not to waste energy talking. Between the weight of the toddler and the pack on her back, her shoulder muscles burned and ached. I’m going to ignore that stitch in my side until it just goes away or I fall down.