“But has anyone tried to actually talk to them?” Bethany said. She caught everyone’s attention with her wild suggestion. “What if they just wanted to expand their border to the river, and they took the two because they invaded their territory. They left Toria because she never actually crossed the river.”
“What, and ransacked all of her possessions and stole her horse for the hell of it?” Genevieve said.
Victory smothered her impulse to second Genevieve’s retort. But Bethany did have an idea there. Pulling herself a few mental feet away from the emotional situation, she acknowledged it was a sound theory when looked at with a more rational and experienced mindset.
“Soldiers are soldiers,” Lorus said, speaking aloud her unvoiced thoughts.
His voice stony, Max said, “We’re lucky they didn’t do worse to Toria.”
Victory tried not to think about what a horrible experience her daughter escaped with the narrowest of margins. Soldiers were soldiers, but her daughter told her that while they took the gear from her belt, no evidence pointed to anything worse occurring while she was unconscious. Victory breathed another huge mental sigh of relief for that.
“Perhaps we should speak with the Romans?” Daliana said. “Approach them as a diplomatic group instead of potential spies?”
“At this point, it’s probably our only option,” Victory said. “Anyone else we send across the river risks the same fate as Kane and Asaron.”
“Any volunteers?” Lorus said.
Victory shot her hand up, with Max’s following immediately after hers. While what the Romans were doing across the river concerned her, the opportunity to find the location of the rest of her family interested her more. It was a good bet Max had the same idea.
“No surprises there,” Lorus said. “And you’re our best fighters if everything goes bad and you have to get out in a hurry. This should probably stay a small group.”
“We have to take Sethri with us,” Max said. “It’s only right, since he’s the real head of the council. We are representing the city. If it was just Victory and me, they would have to assume we’re a rescue mission in disguise.”
Which they might still end up being. Victory couldn’t dismiss the option until they knew more about the whole situation. She checked her watch. Already past midnight, and she still needed real sleep at some point. “We’ll go tomorrow night, then. Leave right at sundown.”
“Armed? Unarmed?” Max deferred to Victory’s experience.
“And risk being taken along with the others? Armed, of course,” she said. “But not too blatantly. We are trying to be polite.”
“They’re the ones invading our territory,” Bethany said. “We have every right to go drive them off.”
“We’ve always been outnumbered by our neighbors,” Tristan said. “Despite the treaty nonsense about a neutral zone, we’re here on their sufferance.”
“We’ll have to see what they want and hope for the best,” Max said. “I guess that’s it for tonight.”
Victory remained curled in her corner of the couch, wrapping her arms around the pillow in her lap, while the others filed out of the room. She would rest here a few minutes while Max showed everyone out, then she could work out the details of tomorrow night’s excursion with him.
She jolted out of a light doze when a weight settled next to her on the couch. She looked forward to home and bed. It was highly unlikely she would make it back to the hospital tonight to see Mikelos. “Everyone gone?”
“Yep,” Max said. “You really think this is going to work?”
“Which part?” Victory stretched her arms above her head, feeling the pull of muscles not exercised in almost two days. “Controlling the Humanists or having a rational discussion with the Romans?”
“Right now I’m not laying bets on either,” Max said.
“Why don’t we call the British to our aid?” Victory said. “Tristan was right, Limani is the neutral zone. They’re not going to be happy about the Romans taking us over.”
“You talk like our doom is inevitable,” Max said. “No, I hadn’t thought about calling the Brits.”
Victory could already see the wheels spinning behind his eyes. “On the one hand, offering aid to us might be seen as breaking the treaty. On the other, they might do it so we can stay neutral, their own personal buffer zone.”
“Damned if we do, damned if we don’t,” Max said. “They help us, the Romans attack for the violation of the treaty. They stay out, the Romans attack anyway, and we get taken over or wiped out.”
“The only silver lining we have right now is that this can’t turn into another Wasteland,” Victory said. “Not with the world-spell still in place.”
“But we won’t be around to appreciate it if they do invade,” Max said. “We’re the government. Even if they take over the city with minimum bloodshed, we can’t be allowed to live.”
This was getting ridiculous. The new power-hungry Roman Caesar didn’t have enough to deal with on his continent, so he had to be greedy with hers. “What a mess. Fabbri couldn’t have picked a better time to stir up trouble.”
“On the positive side, she can be executed with the rest of us when we lose,” Max said.
“Fatalist. So. Pick me up tomorrow right at sundown with Sethri?”
“And we’ll head south toward the river,” Max said. “We can even use a truck instead of taking horses from the stable. Ride in style.”
“Sounds like a plan,” Victory said. “Want to go grab Toria for me? I need to take her home so both of us can get some real sleep.”
Max did not hide his appraisal of her, and she wondered how deep the bags under her eyes were. Coffee couldn’t cure all.
“Yes, that you should,” he said. “I’ll be right back.”
Victory laid her head back against the side of the couch for a few seconds, then hauled herself to her own feet. They all needed rest, and the real work had only just begun.
There wasn’t much Zerandan and Toria could do after figuring out that only Toria attempting to use magic caused her pain. There was no additional affect when Zerandan cast a glamour over her or briefly levitated her over the couch. But he stayed with her, investigating the books on Max’s shelves, while Toria dozed on the couch. He did promise to research and make a few calls when he got home to try to figure out how to reverse whatever the Romans had done to her.
But that didn’t prevent her feelings of helplessness. Her sword was gone—again—and now she couldn’t even use her magic. Some warrior-mage she was. This made the rescue harder, but at least Victory had plenty of spare weapons back at the house. None could replace her rapier, but she could still be lethal against the Roman bastards who took her partner.
With her thoughts running in circles, she drifted on the verge of sleep. She came awake right away when Max entered his office. “The meeting over already?” She struggled to push herself up. She had been comfortable and warm after Zerandan tucked her blanket back around her.
“More or less,” Max said. “Ready to head home?”
“Oh, yes.” A real bed that she could pass out in without worrying about her mother dragging her anywhere else. She wouldn’t even try to get Victory to take her back to her place. Her mother would feel better with her close, and she didn’t think she could face the apartment with Kane’s absence haunting her.
“Then I shall be off,” Zerandan said, snapping closed the book he held. The old man act returned, and he placed more weight on his cane than Toria suspected he needed to when he rose. “I will contact you when I learn anything, my dear.”
“Thanks, Zerandan,” she said. She nodded her head in respect to the elder elf, who gave her a slight bow before wishing Max goodnight and exiting the office.
“Let’s get you downstairs,” Max said. “Victory’s w
aiting, and she needs to get you back to the manor before she passes out herself.”
“One second,” Toria said. She remained in her seat, cross-legged on the couch with the blanket wrapped around her shoulders. She wasn’t about to move yet. She wasn’t even certain she could. She would figure that out when she came to it. “I need a favor.”
Max grabbed the book Zerandan left on the other couch and searched for its correct place on his bookshelves. “And that would be?”
“In the morning, you have to come with me to rescue Kane and Asaron.” She held her breath. He had to say yes. If nothing else, leaving Kane in the hands of the Romans for any longer than necessary risked the survival of his treasured warrior-mage pair. She couldn’t offer a better bribe.
Max found the book’s correct home and slid it into place. After a few seconds of silence, he said, “Absolutely not.”
“You have to!” Why was he being an idiot? “Do you want Kane to die?”
“He’s still alive right now, is he not?”
Toria checked again, grateful this small act didn’t fall under the category of giving her searing pain in her skull and making bright painful lights explode behind her eyes. “Yeah, for now.”
“If they didn’t kill him right away, he’ll probably stay alive for the foreseeable future.” But then he sat next to her on the couch and wrapped a comforting arm about her shoulders.
Not wanting to, and still cranky, she couldn’t resist the hug. It had been a hard day, and she did need the comfort. That still didn’t mean he wasn’t being a bastard.
His voice softened. “I want to get Kane back, too,” he said. “I’ve had friends captured before. I know what you’re going through.”
She knew she was being petulant, but she couldn’t hold the words in. No one had been part of his soul the way Kane was for her. “No, you don’t.”
His shoulders moved in a silent sigh. “Toria, you’re in no shape to go running off. You could barely walk into the building, and I know you wouldn’t have been able to make it up the stairs.”
“I’ll give you that much,” she said. She could compromise. “I’ll go home and sleep for a few hours. We can leave after dawn—I’ll be okay by then. Then Mama can’t even stop me.” A huge yawn welled up inside of her. She knew it hurt her case to let it out, but she couldn’t stop herself in time.
“I can’t go with you anyway,” Max said. “I’m leaving at sundown with Victory and Sethri for a diplomatic meeting with the Romans. An attempt at a diplomatic meeting, at least. We’re already planning to demand their release. You can’t go running off on your own after them.”
It was clear, then. She was on her own. She let her shoulders slump. “Okay,” she said, letting a twinge of relief swim into her voice. Let Max believe she would be a good little girl. “Promise you’ll ask after him?”
“Of course, Toria,” Max said. “We’ll do everything we can to get him back.” He squeezed her shoulders one more time. “Now let’s get you home. Can you stand?” He held his hands down to her.
“Let’s find out,” Toria said. She gripped both of Max’s hands, and he hauled her up. The blanket slid off her shoulders into a heap on the couch. He let go, and the world tilted around her while a strange darkness encroached on her peripheral vision.
“Whoa, girl!” Max grabbed her shoulders to prevent her from falling any farther to the side. “Okay, up you go.” He swept her up into his arms like before. “Home for you, now.”
“Sounds good.” She couldn’t prevent another yawn, relaxing into his arms while he carried her out of the office and down the stairs.
Toria would sleep, for at least a couple of hours. She acknowledged how futile a rescue attempt in her current state would be.
But when dawn arrived, she would be up and preparing to go. Was the saber between the ballroom windows sharpened? What horse could she finagle from the Hall’s stables?
She would get Kane back.
Toria’s alarm clock beeped away, never knowing how close it came to flight across the bedroom. Her mental deal with herself the night before admitted waking up at dawn would be too painful, but seven seemed a reasonable compromise.
Seven o’clock was no less agonizing when she squinted in the bright sunlight streaming through the windows into her corner bedroom at the manor. More than anything, she wanted to burrow her head underneath the comforter and sleep until Kane dragged her out of bed for breakfast and a workout.
But Kane wasn’t getting her up this morning. With that cold reminder, Toria shoved aside the blankets. At the change in elevation when she sat up, her head came alive in fiery pain. The tap dancers were back for a second run of their performance. Groaning, Toria collapsed back onto her pillows. She remained still until the pain receded to a manageable level, then rose with more care. She stretched out legs protesting her harsh treatment of them the day before, an interesting counterpoint to the headache.
She had more important things to do than bemoan the early hour, so Toria rolled out of bed—careful not to revive the headache with sudden movements. The six solid hours of sleep renewed much of her energy, though she knew she didn’t have any reserves to speak of. Adrenaline would carry her today.
She dressed in a clean shirt and pair of jeans, then opened a window to beat the dust from her long coat. After running a brush through her hair and tying it back, she headed downstairs for a much-needed high-energy breakfast.
While water for her oatmeal warmed in a pan on the stove, Toria walked down the hall to the ballroom to rearm herself for the upcoming trip. She surveyed the weaponry displayed around the room. But she had been right in her first decision the night before, and she crossed the room to grasp the hilt of the old saber hanging between two of the windows by a rapier and scimitar. She looked in longing at the rapier, but knew attempting to wield it with any success would be hopeless. The charm that lightened her own rapier was the sole reason she used it with any degree of skill. Her wrists couldn’t take it, otherwise.
She considered the Roman gladius displayed on the other side of the room. It would be appropriate to take out Kane’s kidnappers with a weapon of their own design. But she took into account its size in relation to the blades she was used to. She didn’t have time to adjust to the gladius’ shorter reach.
The saber it was. She gave a few practice swings in the middle of the ballroom on her way out. She hunted down its proper scabbard from a chest to the side of the room, along with collecting extra knives and a small pistol from the locked cupboard in the corner. She eschewed firearms as a general rule, but now all the stops were out. She would get Kane back no matter what it took.
Toria stared at the kitchen phone while she sat at the counter to inhale her oatmeal. Was bringing backup even possible? Max had already turned her down, and any of her fellow mercenaries might let their Guildmaster know their plans. Certainly none of her school friends had the requisite martial training for such an excursion. Looked like she was on her own.
By seven-thirty, Toria headed out of the manor. She didn’t make a huge effort to be quiet. Mama must have been more tired than she let on while they drove home from the Hall. Let her have her sleep.
She tossed her pack into the back seat before climbing in the town-car, glad Dad insisted each vehicle have at least two spare sets of keys. With one last look at the silent manor house, she started the engine and headed back into Limani city-proper.
Toria drove toward the Hall, but passed the building and instead pulled into the rear parking lot of the high school campus. She took a far corner spot, leaving the town-car in the shade of a large oak’s branches. Since classes were out for the summer, with any luck no one would notice her town-car for a day or two. She planned to be long gone in a few minutes anyway.
Slinging the backpack over her shoulder, Toria locked up and shoved the keys into the
outside pocket of her bag. Since the keys didn’t seem any safer on her person, she felt no reason to suffer through them digging into the side of her leg through her jeans pocket while she rode.
Between the high school campus and the grounds owned by the Mercenary Guild stood a small copse of trees. She left the backpack in the crook of two tree branches, then continued through the woods toward the stable behind the Hall. She climbed the split rail fence and cut across one empty paddock, crossing mental fingers Max wasn’t up this early, and that if he was, he didn’t look out his office window right this second.
“Toria!” David, the Guild’s resident Master of Horses, rose from behind his desk when she entered the small office attached to the main stable. “You’ve come to check on Greenstar?”
Toria stopped in front of the desk, jolted out of her meticulous plans by David’s question. “Greenstar?” She hoped she didn’t have a look of stupidity on her face to match the way she felt.
“Yeah, all three horses made it back home on their own yesterday!” David pointed a thumb over his shoulder down the hall leading from his musty office into the spotless stable. “Isn’t that wonderful?”
That’s right, Greenstar was the name of the horse she had borrowed from the Guild. She might not feel it in her body, but her exhaustion slowed mental reactions. “Great!” she said. “In fact, that’s why I’m here. To find out whether they came home okay.” Good save, girl.
But David’s concern was only for his beloved horses, and he continued to chatter while she followed him past the rows of stalls. “It’s quite amazing, actually,” he said. “All three of them still had their tack. Whatever the Romans wanted with your friends, they obviously didn’t have interest in much else.” He gave her a sideways look. “Good for you, I guess.”
Steel Victory (Steel Empire Book 1) Page 15