“I’d no choice,” she said, cutting him short. “My parents knew what had happened by then. They knew it was one of the Brothers and they didn’t want any trouble with Stronghold. Because I refused to tell them who I’d been with, they kept me locked in my room.”
Her voice had become as bleak as her eyes.
“Why didn’t you tell them? Surely they guessed it was me when I kept calling?”
“Why should I tell them? You weren’t the only one who came, you know. Ghezu called too,” she said. “They weren’t interested in who the father was, only in the fact that the betrothal arranged by the Clan Lord had to be canceled. They refused to let the world know of my shame. They told him I’d died … in a climbing accident,” she said contemptuously. “Me, mountain born and bred, killed in a climbing accident? The Guild believed it though, as did the Clan Lord.”
“They did that because of our cub?” Anger surged through him.
She put her head to one side, raising her eye ridges. “Our cub?” she said. “I suppose he is. I never thought of him as mine, only yours. They took him from me as soon as he was born.”
“Why?” In part he already knew the answer. The depths that families could sink to in their quarrels were no surprise to him. Too often he and others from Stronghold had been called in to settle disputes in a manner that forbade further argument.
She shrugged. “Since I was dead, how could the cub exist?”
“What did they do with him?”
She sighed, moving restlessly, trying to get comfortable. “They gave him to the estate nursery. He grew up there, in the charge of whoever was on duty.”
“I know what it’s like to grow up on the wrong side of the hearth,” he said, his voice betraying an anger he was finding increasingly difficult to control. “I saved him from as much of that as I could at Stronghold. Who brought him to me?”
“Some time after he was born, they sent me to a house near the Clan village. My father’s punishment was for me to see the cubs every day but never be able to speak to them. When he was old enough to play outside, I could tell which cub was yours: he was always alone or being picked on. So when I finally managed to escape, I took him with me.”
He caught her eyes but with a flick of her ears, she looked away. “I couldn’t leave him there. All that pain and hurt in one so little. Yes, I suppose I did care for him,” she admitted quietly. “I did what I could to wipe out his memories of the time on the estate so he could have a fresh start. The rest you know. My family couldn’t admit I was still alive so they couldn’t search for me or him.”
Ever alert, Kaid heard a slight noise from behind. Ears pricked as far sideways as they could go, he urgently signed for her to be silent. Turning his head to look over his shoulder at the open window, he leaned forward, ready to spring into the shadows by the front door.
“Don’t bother, Kaid,” said Dzaka’s disembodied voice. “Move, and I will shoot.”
Kaid relaxed, his left hand slowly inching toward the knife concealed at the back of his jacket. He was glad the wait was over.
The muzzle of the gun appeared first, then Dzaka vaulted through the window to land on the work surface. The sound of a soft footfall and he stood in the room with them.
“Who the hell are you?” demanded Khemu angrily. “Are you one of Fyak’s people?”
“No. I’m Dzaka.”
She glanced from him to Kaid then back.
“He’s our son,” Kaid confirmed.
“You might have taught him better manners. What the hell do you mean by entering my house like that without leave?” she demanded, looking him up then down.
Their attention safely diverted for the moment, Kaid palmed his knife under a fold in the bedcover.
“I’ve been appointed to protect you,” said Dzaka, his gun still trained on Kaid as he stepped closer to where they sat.
“By whom, and against whom?”
“Leader Ghezu told me Kaid intended to harm you because of his guilt over his actions toward you in the past.”
Kaid could tell by the constant movement of Dzaka’s ears and the occasional jerky flicking of his tail that his son was balanced on a knife edge. Dzaka had psyched himself up to the point where he was prepared to kill him if he thought it necessary.
“Just what did Ghezu tell you?” asked Khemu.
“He said Kaid had drugged you with faka juice so you’d go with him that night.”
“Drugged me?” She looked at Kaid. “He certainly hasn’t inherited my brains!” She turned back to her son. “Tallinu didn’t drug me, youngling. How old are you now? Thirty?”
“Thirty-four,” said Dzaka stiffly. “What’s my age got to do with it?”
“You’ve known Tallinu thirty years and yet you believed Ghezu?” She gave a snort of disgust. “I didn’t know I’d given birth to a fool! Ghezu’s Talent is to cast a glamour over what he says. You’ve been duped, boy!”
The nose of the gun barrel had begun to droop and a confused look crossed Dzaka’s face. “You mean he didn’t drug you?”
“That’s what I just said, isn’t it?”
“But why did you … How did I come …” He broke off, obviously at a loss to know how to ask his all-important question.
“That’s none of your business!” she snapped, beginning to cough again. “How dare you ask me that!”
Kaid realized she’d staggered Dzaka, making him doubt what he’d been told. Now was the time to push the advantage home. The risk was still there, but it was acceptable.
“I’m going to give her some water, Dzaka,” said Kaid, slowly stretching out his hand for the mug. “Either use that damned gun and get it over with, or put it away.”
He held the mug to her mouth and this time, when she’d done, her fingers remained curled round his and she leaned against him trying to regain her strength.
“How much longer?” he asked her softly, his other hand reaching up to smooth the hair away from her face.
“Days, a couple of weeks at most,” she said, her voice barely audible. “If I’m unlucky.”
He pushed aside the grief. It served no purpose now. “Tell me where your medication is and I’ll get it for you.”
“I’ve none. They won’t let me have any.”
He began to growl deep in his throat, ears flicking sidewards with the anger he could no longer contain. His hand tightened round hers protectively. “Are you in pain? I have something with me that I can give you.”
“I can just control it,” she said, pushing herself upright again. “You can’t be weak in the desert. It either strengthens you or kills you. Looks like it’s done both to me.”
“Leave with me, Khemu,” he urged. “I’ve a vehicle not far from here.”
“No, I’ve lived here too long to want to leave now,” she said.
Kaid had been keeping a portion of his mind focused on Dzaka and knew he was no longer a threat. He reached into a pocket with his left hand, wincing as the almost healed wound on his arm was stretched.
“What have you done to your arm?” she asked, concern in her voice.
“It’s nothing,” he said. “An accident. Take this.” He put a small blue capsule into her hand, closing her fingers around it. “For when you choose to end it. Bite the capsule and swallow the liquid. It acts in minutes and is painless.”
Opening her hand, she looked at the capsule lying in her palm. “You’ve just given me my freedom.”
“I’ve one other thing to give you. Please don’t refuse it.” He hesitated, wishing Dzaka wasn’t there. “I said I hoped to make things right. When I realized there’d be a cub, I had a bracelet made for you. I carried it with me each time I came to your estate, hoping to get the chance to offer it to you.”
He saw a surprised look cross her face then felt the gentle touch of her mind against his for a moment.
“You really did,” she said. “Why? We didn’t love each other, Tallinu.”
“I know, but I had hoped for a relatio
nship with you, not just one night. And the responsibility for our cub was mine; I didn’t want him to grow up as I did, with no registered father.”
She looked past him to Dzaka. “Yes,” she said thoughtfully. “Why not? I’ll take your bracelet, Tallinu. Do something useful, brat. Fetch me the box you’ll find on the top of that chest on the far side of the room.”
Dzaka, still with a stunned look on his face, was putting his gun away. “Ghezu lied to me. Everything he said was a lie,” he said, looking from one parent to the other.
“I tried to tell you,” said Kaid. “Ghezu and I fought over Khemu that night and when she refused him, he got abusive with her.”
Khemu nodded. “He’d heard me ask Tallinu to accompany me home. While his friends restrained him, we left.” She began to cough again, bending over and putting her hand to her throat to ease the pain.
“More water?” asked Kaid.
She shook her head. “Let’s get this done, then you must leave. You’ve been here long enough as it is. You risked too much in coming here, both of you,” she said. “Fetch the box, Dzaka.” She turned to Kaid. “You chose the name? Brought-in-from-the-cold. Apt.”
“It’s a traditional mountain name, one that’s fallen into disuse now,” said Kaid, pushing back his right sleeve so he could take off the silver bracelet that lay concealed beneath it; the bracelet he’d worn for nearly thirty-five years.
As Dzaka came over with the box and handed it to her, she grasped him by the wrist. “Stay, brat. You’re a lay-priest like your father. You can witness your own legitimization.” She let him go and took the box from him, laying it on the bed beside her.
“Just put the bracelet on me, Tallinu. No messing about, hear? We’re long past the need for all that ritual.”
As Kaid took her hand and placed the bracelet round the painfully thin wrist, he could almost see again the young female he’d known all those years ago. Her face seemed to flesh out and her hair and body fur were once more the soft luxuriant gray of her youth.
He heard Dzaka let out a gasp of shock, and the image was gone, replaced by the thin, frail female she’d become.
“Memories never age,” she said, her mouth opening in a faint smile. She opened her box, taking out a bracelet only slightly narrower than the one she now wore. “You can have this one. It has my family crest on it. Wear it and damn them for me, Tallinu!” she said, reaching for his hand.
“Oh, your father’ll be damned, never fear,” said Kaid grimly.
“No,” she said, pushing the silver circlet over his hand and down onto his wrist. “Go to him, take Dzaka with you, and show him your bracelet. That will break his pride more than anything.”
He turned his hand over, clasping hers. “If that’s what you wish. We are one now,” he said.
“We are one.” She released him and picked up the box to hand it back to her son. “Here, take this with you, Dzaka. Everything that’s in it is yours now. You have two families, always remember that. The Arrazo and Tallinu’s. Be sure to honor both, and wear my family crest for your grandfather to see!”
She froze, ears swiveling toward the door. “Go now!” She pushed Dzaka and the box away from her. “Fyak’s warriors are coming! You’ve a chance if you leave immediately!”
Dzaka hesitated.
“Go!” said Kaid, picking up his knife and pocketing it as he rose to his feet in one fluid motion. “I’ll be behind you. If I don’t make it, leave without me. My craft’s in the arroyo two kilometers west of here.” He knew his son would be hard pressed to reach it ahead of Fyak’s warriors—unless he bought some time by creating a diversion.
Dzaka staggered backward as an image of the location of the craft flashed briefly in his mind’s eye.
From the street outside, the sound of running feet and low voices could now be plainly heard.
“Go, I said!” growled Kaid, heading for the door. Grasping the heavy wooden latch, he slammed it into place. Pulling his gun out, he returned to Khemu’s side.
Dzaka turned and ran for the window, jumping up onto the work surface. He turned for a last look at them, then Kaid was beside him, thrusting a coin into his hand before pushing him through the opening. Already Fyak’s guards had reached the door and were pounding on it.
“You’ll need this. Give it to Garras. Tell him I said he was to protect you!”
Kaid had time to push the shutters together and turn back to the room.
“I’m sorry, Khemu,” he began.
“Don’t be. I’m glad you came, glad to have seen him …”
The door flew open and two warriors burst in as Kaid flung himself toward the table in the center of the room. The floor beside him ignited briefly, sending up a shower of hot splinters as he hit the ground rolling. He came up in a crouch, getting off a couple of shots before a narrow beam of light hit him on the thigh, sending pain searing down every nerve in his body. Unable to control his muscles, he hit the ground hard this time, his injured arm crashing against the table leg as he fell. His gun spun in a lazy arc across the floor to stop at the feet of the male who’d shot him. From nearby he could hear Khemu howling in fear.
“Rrurto, get the gun. L’Seuli, get after the one that went through the window,” snapped the warrior in charge.
Lying there in frozen agony, all Kaid could see was the leader’s clawed toes poking out beneath his tan robes as he came toward him. The feet stopped half a meter from his head. The male bent down, grasping him by the hair. His head was jerked up off the ground and pulled backward until his captor could see his face.
The mouth opened in a large grin, teeth shining in the moonlight. “We got him. He’s the one the Prophet wants.”
At this point, his world blacked out.
*
When he came round, the worst of the pain was gone though his arm still throbbed and his whole body felt as if it was tingling. Arms bound behind his back, he was propped against the side of the bed in a vaguely sitting position. Opposite him an armed guard stood on watch.
He moved his head slightly but he could neither see nor feel Khemu. He looked up at his guard. “Where is she?” he asked.
The guard jerked his head toward the bed. “Behind you. She’s dead. Took some poison capsule before we could stop her.”
Kaid closed his eyes and let his chin drop on his chest. At least she was beyond pain and suffering now. He hadn’t been able to delay them by much, but hopefully it had been enough to allow Dzaka to reach the aircar.
“What does Fyak want with me?” he asked, remembering what his captor had said.
“You’ll find out when we reach Khezy’ipik,” was the short reply.
Khezy’ipik? He’d never heard that name before. Could he mean Chezy? And Fyak? Where did he fit into this? Ghezu he could understand, but Fyak? Unless Fyak was acting for Ghezu. They’d made some kind of deal that involved him! It made sense for Ghezu to have a backup plan, and how else could he reach straight into the heart of Fyak’s territory?
How had they known he was here, though? There had been no guards visible. A telepath? Was Fyak a telepath? He couldn’t be, that was implausible. Why would he persecute them if he was one himself? Still, stranger things happened. Likely he’d find out when they got to Khezy’ipik.
He tried to move and immediately wished he hadn’t. Tendrils of pain shot through his nerves causing him to yelp involuntarily. The effects of the stunner hadn’t worn off yet. He felt as if he were on fire as his bruised nervous system continued to send waves of pain along every limb, particularly his arms, against which he was leaning. Muscles jerked in reaction, trying to avoid contact with the bed behind him and he pitched forward onto the floor as unconsciousness claimed him again.
*
“Craft approaching, Lieutenant,” said the tech-op on duty in the Aldatan estate gatehouse.
Ni’Zulhu looked up from his desk. “We’re not expecting anyone at this time of night. Query their identity.”
“Lieutenant, it’s Dzaka!
He’s saying something about Kaid having been taken by Fyak’s people in Rhijudu.”
“Give me the link,” he said, pushing the papers aside and activating his comm unit.
Dzaka’s face came on screen.
“Lieutenant. Kaid’s been taken at Rhijudu. He sent me here to see Garras.” He held the coin up by the tiny ring set in the outer edge. “I’m under Garras’ protection. I must see him,” he said urgently. “Permission to land?”
Ni’Zulhu hesitated. He recognized the coin—what Warrior wouldn’t? “I’ll have him meet you here at the gatehouse. Permission to land granted, but our security system’s alerted. Be warned not to deviate from the landing procedure.”
“Understood.” The screen blanked.
“Shall I call Garras, Lieutenant?”
“Call our Liege first, then Garras,” said Ni’Zulhu. “Security on maximum alert as of now. If he makes one aggressive move, take the craft out.”
“Yes, sir.”
*
Garras had been on duty up at the main estate house. He and Kusac met in the garage area. Kusac didn’t waste words as he grasped Garras by the arm and pointed to a couple of two person hoppers. “Meet you there,” he said.
*
As they arrived, Dzaka was just emerging from the craft. Garras slewed to a stop, leaped off and flung himself toward Dzaka, but a curt word and gesture from Kusac sent one of the guards to intercept him.
Garras’ growl of anger rose in pitch as he tried to break away and reach Dzaka. “Why are you protecting him, Kusac? He’s already tried to kill Kaid once! How d’you know …”
“Enough, Garras,” said Kusac, his eyes already on Dzaka as he got off his hopper.
He stood, his back to the open doorway of the craft, facing six guards armed with pulse rifles. His ears were flattening as he looked impassively toward Kusac.
“Where is he, Dzaka? What have you done with him?” Garras demanded.
“He’ll answer to me alone, Garras.” Kusac’s voice, carefully pitched, brought instant obedience, rendering Garras silent and still. He’d been taught the technique but till now had never had occasion to use it. All his senses, augmented by Carrie’s mental presence, were alert. Skills learned in AlRel now had a purpose.
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