by K Bledsoe
“Getting better, Your Highness,” he answered.
“Oh, that’s good,” though his tone belied the positive words.
Lavan grabbed one of his history books, but instead of going to his room, he stayed in the common area between their bedrooms. He tried to seem cheerful, but it was difficult, especially since…
Lavan swallowed, shoving the memory away. He had wanted to believe that the prince tried to do something about Lavan’s supposed problem with girls, but what he did… Lavan swallowed again.
He has no kindness in his heart, nothing but malicious intent. He could have punished me merely by taking Amala away. When he gave her to Thom instead, I knew he would never be a good person. I just wish I had more courage.
He gently rubbed his cheek, the black faded to yellow, but still a painful reminder of what happened when he did stand up to Hahn. Lavan buried his nose in the book, but long habit kept the prince in the corner of his vision. He knew that Hahn didn’t want the king to get well, but there was really nothing overt that the prince could do before he was confirmed. If he pushed too hard, the council could limit his powers. He had become very moody but left Lavan mostly alone, especially when he was with the king. The only drawback to the king’s improved health was that Lavan had no more excuses to ditch Hahn to stay with the king.
“What do you see that could possibly be of any interest in those boring books?”
“Huh? They’re not boring,” replied Lavan, surprised at any comment about books from the prince.
“Tedious and dull recitations of the same facts over and over. How many ways can ‘this happened’ be told?”
“Well, yes, some are a bit dry, but some of these,” he reached for a couple books on the table to hold up. “These are private histories from past royalty. It talks about personal experiences that aren’t in history books. It’s fascinating to see how they differ.”
“In what way?”
Trying not to show suspicion at the prince’s atypical curiosity, he tried to think of the most appealing subjects. “History books in the educational system tell of the planet’s history and only briefly touch on the royalty, explaining that there has always been a monarchy since the first colony. Books about the monarchy are more specific, talking about stuff like how twice the ruling line was almost extinguished, but the public raised such an outcry that the queen or king was kept in place.”
“Yes, yes. And how the council was formed to keep all the power out of a single person’s hands.” The prince waved his hand in dismissal. “I know all that. What do the personal histories tell you that is different?”
“Some are journals with only the thoughts of the author, but the most fascinating ones are the histories by people inside the court. They write about intrigues and power plays that the public never sees. Both the council and royalty felt that the public should have an image of a strong ruling body, so these struggles were kept quiet.”
“Really?” The prince leaned forward, a bit of fire in his eyes. “Give me some good examples.”
Now Lavan was curious. Why is he so interested?
“You would be surprised how many rulers that appeared strong had serious doubts about whether they could lead,” said Lavan. “And others that were nearly unseated from the throne. Mostly by challenges to the right to rule. All fought within the court circles and carefully kept from the public.”
“Unseated? By challenges? Like one of those stupid trials? Or real fights?” Hahn licked his lips as his eyes lit up at the possibility of fighting.
“Well, both actually,” replied Lavan, a little unsettled at the avid look in Hahn’s eyes. “Though it’s been centuries since—”
“So, you’re saying that just anyone off the street could challenge my rule?”
Despite his tone, Hahn’s grin and calculating look showed that he would love the idea. Knowing how well the prince could fight, Lavan didn’t doubt it.
“Not anyone. Only someone with a true claim to the throne and that would have to be—”
“Too bad. The public would enjoy such a spectacle. See their beloved prince emerge victorious from a fight to the death.”
“Well, it’s not exactly ‘to the death,’” replied Lavan. “That barbarism never came to the planets with the first colonists.”
“Well, that would be boring.”
“Oh, no. Not at all. Usually the council or current king establishes the winning decision beforehand anywhere from first touch to near-death wounds. One of the more interesting was the duel between twins. The younger claimed it was ridiculous to choose the next ruler based on being born only an hour earlier. He wanted to be chosen on merit and of course the older refused to consider it. The younger found the obscure tradition of dueling and prepared carefully to challenge his brother. The older was caught unaware and lost the duel.
“But, I’m going on and on,” he said, realizing that the prince was already tuning out. He handed a book to Hahn. “Here, this is a good historical retelling, you should read it.”
Hahn’s eyes narrowed. “Why should I? You can tell me what I need to know. What else are you good for?” He threw the book down with disgust and stalked out of the room. The abrupt mood shifts might have surprised anyone else, but after all these years, Lavan was used to it. It still didn’t make it less disappointing. He really thought he had been interested and again, Hahn had managed to hide his true feelings from his companion.
The fact that he could hide it indicated that something was not quite right with the Companion Bond. Despite all his reading, Lavan had found nothing to explain why only negative emotions seemed to resonate through his bond with Hahn. In fact, some stories were written about how the companion could cheer up their bondmate by being happy themselves. Laughing in tandem or even unable to be apart for long. The Companion’s Bond was considered to be the best stabilizing influence. Maybe the negativity was why the prince felt so isolated and alone. Despite his best efforts, Lavan found that Hahn never responded to him in any positive way. And every time he thought the prince might be turning around, Hahn said and did things to prove the complete opposite.
As usual, this brief interest had faded quickly, if it even had been a true interest. Lavan knew now that Hahn liked to put on a show to hide his inner thoughts, but this time it was a token attempt. He shook his head. Perhaps the bond wasn’t solid, but he knew that the prince was up to something far worse than his usual exploits. And he was no longer trying very hard to hide it.
***
“You sure have a lot of pictures of this girl,” said Allison. “She an old girlfriend or something?”
Lenore sat quietly at the science console, trying to be inconspicuous. Her daughter and Jonah were at Allison’s console next to the nav board, their backs to Lenore. Lenore had figured that the two would get along so that Allison could ask such a question, seeming innocent instead of invasive. Her patience was about to pay off.
Jonah blushed, again catching Lenore by surprise. He appeared to be very mature and knowledgeable and, as far as she could see, this planetary society had no stigma associated with casual relationships. But he was from royalty and, let’s be honest, only such “traditionalists” stuck to outdated mores such as betrothals.
“I have never actually met her,” he told Allison.
Hm, thought Lenore. Maybe the blush was for that admission.
“I thought she was someone from your past,” said Allison.
“Well, in a way she is. I have been gathering information on the slave trade for years and in the past several years, she always seems to be nearby, interested in the same things.”
“She could be working for the organization.”
Also my concern, thought Lenore.
“No, she has only gathered information, never sold any to them, well, that I know of anyway.” A tiny line between his eyes showed briefly. “And a few things here and there have even been damaging, well, mostly just minor inconveniences, to the slavers.”
�
��So… she’s working for security? Undercover?”
“I don’t think so. I believe she harbors a deep hatred of the slavers beyond the norm, perhaps even knew somebody who was taken by them. Maybe a former slave herself.”
“Whoa,” said Allison softly. “You don’t think she could actually be the lost princess, do you?”
Jonah shrugged, a sheepish look on his face. “I admit I have had that thought, just a vain wish, but look.” He pulled some clear pictures. “She wears gloves often which gave me hope but these clearly show bare hands.” He pointed at a close-up of the right hand. “See? No tattoos.”
“They could have been removed,” said Allison.
Jonah shook his head.
“No, the tattoos are subdermal. To remove them the entire hand would have to be rebuilt and there are no scars showing that. Also, if she were the princess, why wouldn’t she simply go home? Why live in the poorest part of the city? No, she is just what she appears to be. A girl, scraping by on her wits, selling information to make enough money to live on, and with an odd obsession with the slave organization.”
“Hm.” To most people, Allison’s noncommittal answer would be accepted but Lenore knew her daughter. She had some ideas of her own. She just hoped she would keep it to herself and not tell Jonah.
The two continued to sort through the documents, occasionally pointing at information on a paper and Allison entering the data. Lenore assumed she was using one of her personal search programs, far beyond what Lenore was capable of. But she trusted her daughter to know what she was doing. She was also doing very well at eliciting exactly what Lenore needed to know.
“I guess I am wondering why you need us,” said Allison. “With all your tech and skills, I would think you would have found her long ago. Your pictures are clearer than any we have taken of her.”
Lenore hid her chuckle. There was only the one picture, but Allison was great at dissembling.
“She is exceptionally skilled at hiding, turning away from cameras, wearing hoods. Everything that I have gathered runs through the palace security programs which is the best on the planet. The pictures are not only clearer, but extrapolation is possible as well. Yet, even though this data goes back five years, I only have a handful of information that overlaps with my investigations into the slavers. And when I try to physically look for her, the trail goes cold.”
“Even with all that tech?”
“Well, I have nearly found her several times. About a year ago, I located where she was living, but she never came back. Somehow, she knows when she is being tracked and keeps dropping out of sight. I don’t know how she is doing it.”
“Well, then, you were right to come to us,” said Allison. “This kind of thing is what we do best. Now let’s try my new program with this data.”
Lenore smiled to herself and turned back to the science console, knowing they would tell her when they found anything.
Chapter Forty-two
Lenore sat in yet another disguise. Her fifth so far on this planet if she counted her battle outfit when she freed Quinn. She was pushing her luck with being found by authorities, or even worse, the slavers, but she didn’t trust such a delicate mission to anyone else, even Diarmin.
She wore faded but clean coveralls, skin darkened enough to be a native of the planet.
Sunglasses and a wig with long black hair completed the outfit. Her obvious status was a person in the lower middle class, doing a job that required minimal education and earning just enough to allow her to stop for a drink once a week after work. She was alone, sitting at an outside table, pretending to read her pad as she watched for the woman that Allison had located.
Allison’s program had searched for anyone with a scrambled identity. With the data that Jonah had provided, she had narrowed the search to a five-mile radius, though they had kept the exact distance and area from Jonah. Lenore had dropped him back at the hotel, reassuring him that they would be in touch when the girl was located. Meanwhile, he still had a day before he would return to work and would use that time to figure what to do with the children. He’d spoken of two possible options, bring the children back and hide them or get them and their families offplanet safely. He had been very helpful and concerned after his initial shock at the story of their rescue, Lenore omitting the details about Quinn, of course.
After she had dropped him off, Lenore returned to the shuttle and flew it near the area where they expected to find the girl then contacted Allison. Allison had put her “pattern-following cap” on and, using the past locations where the information broker had previously given Jonah the slip, estimated her next likely living area. This particular eatery, too nice to be a dive bar but not good enough to require human service and be designated a restaurant, had no cameras as did all the businesses on this street. However, Allison was able to pinpoint some video from surrounding areas that led her to believe that the girl walked down this way every so often, apparently at random, but Allison intuited the patterns in her peculiar fashion and surmised that she would be along again soon.
Lenore had nursed three drinks for much too long and decided to pay her bill and head for her second stakeout at the clothing shop across the street. She could get away with another hour of window shopping along the shops and maybe another drink at the other end of the street. She dropped her credits in the slot and looked up to see someone rounding the corner wearing a light jacket with the hood partially obscuring the face. A breeze briefly lifted the hood for only a moment, but it was enough to show Lenore this was the woman she was waiting for.
Lenore stayed seated and angled her head down as if reading her pad but keeping her eyes, covered with the dark glasses, on the girl. The girl cast her gaze from side to side and started walking down the street. After only a few steps, however, she paused, and her gaze slowly tracked back to Lenore. She can’t possibly recognize me. But when the look on her face went from wary to trapped, Lenore knew she had been identified. Lenore tensed in turn, ready to give chase if needed.
For several long moments, the two women stared at each other until the younger appeared to come to a decision. Her face blanked of all emotion, with the exception of tight lips. She slowly walked to where Lenore was sitting at the outside table and sat down across from her, hands still in her jacket pockets.
The plan had been to plant a subdermal tracker on her and then inform Jonah of their success, but apparently the woman had something else in mind.
“It’s about time you got here,” said Lenore, not exactly sure what was going through this girl’s head but willing to play a role. “I was getting ready to leave. Can I get you something to drink?”
“A huffleberry, please.”
Her voice was soft and melodic but with something missing, as if it were carefully cultivated but lacked depth. Lenore put the order in and added another herbal drink for herself.
“Is this going to be a long meeting? Should I run a tab?” asked Lenore, figuring it the best way to find out exactly what this woman wanted.
“That depends on if you are interested in what I have for you,” came the reply.
Now it was Lenore’s turn to be wary, but she was too experienced to show it. Instead she noted the girl’s wiry strength, seen even through her jacket. More telling was the slight scar on the right side of her neck and a stiffness in her posture, as if she were ready to leap away at any provocation. Lenore deliberately leaned back, trying to look unconcerned. Perhaps this information broker was offering some information. To the very one that was looking for her. Interesting. Not to mention bold.
“I have some business connections that you might be interested in.” She pulled her left hand out of her pocket slowly. “They are similar to the one you had dealings with a few days ago.” She slid over a folded paper with her gloved hand. Lenore made no move to pick it up.
“Why come to me, Miss….”
“Raahi. And that paper will explain.”
Lenore flipped the paper open and identifie
d the address of the place where they had rescued Quinn. Quickly she crumpled it and stuffed it into her belt.
“Why should I be interested in more of the same, Miss Raahi? If you know about my previous business, then you should have guessed that we got what we wanted. What would more of the same offer us?” Apparently, Jonah had been correct about her interest in the local slave trade.
“It’s just Raahi. And I figured you would want as wide a variety of options as possible. Especially if you are getting rid of your competition.”
Was she thinking that Lenore’s group was going to take down the entire organization? Or is she merely a plant to trap the one responsible for the damages to the sales venue?
“Addresses don’t interest me. I am sure my associates already have the same in their books.” Emotion flickered across Raahi’s face, too quick for Lenore to analyze but it seemed a bit like desperation.
“I have the security codes for some of the addresses.”
“That is a bit more interesting, but we can get inside anytime, codes or not.” In truth those might be worth purchasing, but Lenore could tell Raahi had more. She waited for another offer. But when the young woman bit her lower lip, Lenore knew she was contemplating running.
“Thank you for the drink.” Raahi started to stand, but Lenore reached out a hand to keep her from leaving. Raahi snatched her hands back before Lenore could touch them, but she stayed seated. Lenore pulled her own hand back, not wanting to scare the girl into silence.
“Look, Miss Raahi. I do know someone who would be interested in what you are offering, and I would be happy to introduce you to him. However, I sense you have something bigger to offer that I might purchase.” Lenore watched Raahi’s eyes narrow, not in anger, but to hide the shot of fear. Was she afraid that Lenore guessed her intentions or of what she had to sell? She waited patiently.
“Please, just Raahi, no ‘miss.’ And, yes, I have more.” She took a drink and swallowed, looking anywhere but at Lenore.