Abendau's Heir (The Inheritance Trilogy Book 1)

by Jo Zebedee

  Lichio nodded behind him to Sam, who was already on his feet and heading out the door. “They’re on the way. Will he live, Silom?”

  “I don’t know. He’d lost a lot of blood.”

  “Can you see him?” Sonly asked, leaning forward to the comms unit.

  There was a harsh sound at the other end. “I’m in the palace, overseeing his attack. He’s on the parapet. All I know is when I left him, he was alive.” His voice took on a softer tone. “When you hear from Sam, tell me.”

  Lichio ended the comms and glanced at Sonly.

  “He’ll be all right,” he said. “He’s as tough as nails, Kare is. After what he’s survived, this will be a walk in the park.”

  Sonly’s lower lip trembled, but she lifted her chin and met his eyes. “A walk in the park, that’s right, Lich.”

  He pulled her to him, and hugged her tighter when her shoulders started to shake. There was silence from Sam and it stretched on and on, telling Lichio what he needed to know. The comms unit buzzed and he reached for it.

  “It’s me,” said Sam.

  “Lieutenant Prentice,” Lichio said. At some stage he’d have to explain to Sam how an army communicated. “How is he?”

  “He’s alive,” said Sam. “He’s not in good shape, but he is alive. I’m taking him to the clinic now.”

  Lichio nodded to Sonly, who got up, wiping her eyes. “Sonly will meet you there.” He put the comms unit down and grinned at his sister. “See, I told you. A walk in the park.” A park in hell.

  CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT

  Sam straightened. “You’ll live,” he said. “I’ve seen you much worse than this.”

  “You’re the expert.” Kare winced as he tried to sit up.

  From the side of the bed, Sonly glared at him. “You left a captain in charge while you played at being a soldier. I feel like killing you myself.”

  “If I hadn’t gone, we would never have got through; there were thousands waiting once they forced the gate. Besides, I thought it needed either me or Lichio there.”

  There was silence for a moment, and then she crossed her arms, not mollified. “We nearly lost the commander of this army; how would that have helped matters?”

  “I’m alive,” Kare said. “It’s more than many of my men. How’s Perrault?”

  “Not as well as you, but he’ll live,” Sam said. “Whatever you did saved him.”

  “I don’t remember. When I passed out, we were sitting against each other; I guess I healed both of us.”

  The door burst open and Silom came in, his uniform bloody, his hair sticking to his scalp, a field bandage on one of his forearms. He sat on the end of the bed, his glare daring the doctor to tell him to move; it seemed Sam had more sense. Kare looked at Silom, questioningly.

  “It’s over,” Silom said. “We’ve captured the commander of the garrison; he wants to surrender. It’s Phelps, by the way.”

  “I’ll see him,” Sonly said, but Kare shook his head.

  “Give me a couple of hours. I’m not as bad as I look. Wheel me down to an office and I’ll gladly accept his surrender. It might speed my recovery.”

  It took more than a couple of hours for Sam to agree Kare was strong enough, but later that afternoon he found himself sitting in a chair in one of the Empress’ antechambers. “How do I look?” he asked Sonly.

  “Pale,” she said. “Too thin. But alert, focused.”

  That would have to do. The door to the outer room opened, and he straightened in his chair. General Phelps came in, somewhat older, but still with the same air of smug confidence about him. Kare remembered being dragged in front of him and handed over to Beck in the control room of the Banned; it felt like it had happened years ago. I look older than him, now. The thought served as a stark reminder what this man had delivered him to.

  “Phelps.”

  “Colonel,” Phelps replied, the word obviously distasteful to him. “I’m here to surrender the garrison of the palace to you.”

  “You can’t surrender the garrison; I’ve already taken it. Arrange the surrender of the planet and I’ll accept it. Otherwise, I’ll raze Abendau City to the ground if I have to.”

  “I have my own terms.”

  “We have nothing further to discuss until you agree to my terms. Belaudii, Phelps. All of it.” Kare nodded to the soldiers to take Phelps away.

  “I don’t know how you did this– you were a beaten man when I last saw you– but I knew once you took the port, the palace would fall. I put a little bit of insurance in place,” said Phelps.

  The first low worm of worry started. Phelps was clever, and ruthless. “What insurance?”

  “Look into my mind, Varnon. See what I know, see who I know about.”

  Kare let his psyche sink into the other man, who put up no resistance.

  “Your Empress has you well-housebroken,” Kare said, and then stopped. He pulled out of Phelps’ mind and glared at him; Phelps lifted his chin and met Kare’s eyes.

  “You bastard,” Kare said, and he forgot himself enough to try to stand, pain shooting through his side in response to his move. He sank back into the seat. “It wasn’t enough to screw me; you had to take it further.”

  “Maybe. But if you want her, you need to negotiate,” said Phelps.

  “I know where she is. It's in your mind.”

  “She’s guarded by a full platoon of soldiers, Varnon, with one order; if you attack, she dies.”

  “Who dies?” asked Sonly, but the general didn’t answer, just rocked smugly back on his heels. “Who dies, Kare?” she asked, but he could see she already knew; her blue eyes full of combined fear and hope.

  “Kerra. No wonder I was so fucking expendable. Not only had they taken what they needed for a spare, they already had their heir.”

  “You can’t let her die,” Sonly said. “Not again.”

  If only it was that easy, but the decision he should take as a colonel was different from that of a father. He saw Lichio’s shocked face and understood that this time the decision was his alone. His anger rose, but he bit down on it; it wouldn’t help.

  “Your terms?” Kare’s voice was clipped and cold.

  “I get off the planet– you get the girl.”

  “And your assurance?”

  “Check my mind and you’ll see the orders I’ve given. They’re clear; once I’m off the planet, I’ll order the release of the child. You take her from the messenger, and that’s it. You need to decide. If they haven’t heard from me in another couple of hours, they’ll kill her.”

  “What about the Empress?” Kare asked. “Won’t your mistress be displeased?”

  Phelps looked uncomfortable for the first time. “I don’t intend to go anywhere near the Empress,” he said, his voice tight.

  “I doubt that; she has a hold on you like I’ve rarely seen.”

  “Your decision?”

  “Get him out of my sight,” Kare said, coldly. He watched as the door closed and then looked at Sonly, Lichio’s arms around her, and said, “What do you want me to do, Sonly? He’s not bluffing; he has her.”

  “Could you get her?”

  “Maybe, but I’d have to go myself– they couldn’t do it without a psycher.” He hesitated. “Even if I was up to it– and I’m not, I can barely move– my powers have failed twice now: a psycher who can’t be relied on is worse than not having one.”

  “What do you mean, failed?” asked Sonly.

  “What does fail ever mean? It didn’t work. I couldn’t kill Beck with it– Silom had to do it– and I couldn’t take down the ceiling. Not the first time, anyway.”

  “Fuck. That’s all we need,” said Lichio. “Is there any chance he’ll double-cross you?”

  “No. He knows I’d have seen it. The deal on the table, that’s genuine.”

  “Then deal,” Sonly said. “Or I will.” She looked at him directly. She would, too. She’d do whatever it took to get Kerra back. For a moment, he was tempted to let her, tired of everything c
oming down to him, but he thought of Phelps, the kind of man he was. The only thing he’d respond to was power of the sort he wielded, strength of arm and will and, for Phelps, it was Kare who represented that.

  “You can’t; it’s a military decision. He knows, just like you know, what I should say. He’s the one who did it, Sonly: the base, all those people. Out there, in Abendau, the children and babies there, what about them? If I let him go, I can’t get a surrender, and I’ll have to attack the city to take it.”

  “You told me last night what happened to you,” Sonly said, after a moment. “What about me? Silom reached Kerra up to me, and my hand touched her as the soldiers came and he had to run with her. My milk came in while I sat in the transport and I had no baby for it. My womb contracted, and with every pain my whole being longed for her. It still does.”

  “Sonly, I know. I want her back too.”

  “You don’t know,” she said, “or we wouldn’t even be talking about it. You said there was a black hole when you lost your psyche. Well, my black hole’s still there and I need her back, Kare. We can work through everything else: what happened to you, what happens next; but I need her back.”

  Lichio let her bury her head against him and looked, with sympathy, at Kare.

  Kare lifted his comms unit. He held Lichio’s eyes. “Prepare a ship: a small one.” He turned back to Sonly. “I’ll deal, but we need to secure the city through this. I won’t have the deaths of the innocents on our hands.”

  “I agree.” She smiled. “I can do better than that."

  “How?”

  Sonly shrugged. “I’m assuming he won’t want to read a forty page document before he signs. Especially if you threaten to change your mind a few times.”

  Kare started to smile. “I suspect not.”

  She broke away from Lichio. “I want the bastard sunk. He stole my daughter. I’ll make sure we take everything we can from him.”

  Kare turned to the soldiers at the door. “Bring the general back in.”

  ***

  Later, as the ship lifted into the sky, Kare nudged Lichio. “Can we track it?”

  “We didn’t have time.”

  “It’s definitely Kerra?”

  “Yes. She has the most lovely pair of green eyes,” Lichio said.

  Kare smiled. “You owe Silom, then.” The ship was quickly fading in the sky. “It feels wrong, letting him go.”

  “Absolutely not,” Lichio said. “You were right. We have the city with no bloodshed– your Barefoot Revolution will be remembered for not hurting the little people.”

  “Barefoot Revolution?”

  “It’s what the soldiers are calling it,” Lichio told him, an apologetic smile on his face.

  “I’ve heard worse. I gambled, Lichio, on my daughter’s life.”

  “You did well. I didn’t think you’d get a surrender.”

  Neither had he. But Sonly had been sure. “All he wanted was to save his skin. God help him,” Kare said as the ship vanished from the sky.

  “What do you mean?”

  “He either has to face the Empress, or learn to live without her. She has such a hold on him, he’ll be destroyed either way. Keeping him here, killing him, that would have been the merciful thing to do.”

  “So, it worked out well. Smile, Kare.”

  Kare looked at Lichio, no smile on his face. “Smile? He read me, Lichio; he knew I couldn’t take any more. He knew we– both me and Sonly– have had enough. And he might be right– how much more can we take? It worries me.”

  “Why?”

  “If he knows it, so does the Empress. There’s been nothing from her and it’s concerning me, that’s all.”

  “She’ll have to contact you. You have the baby and the palace, all the bloodline. And, presumably, if there are others carrying your child, they’re in Abendau, which you hold, and she can’t take,” Lichio said, firmly. “She has to deal, and she knows it.”

  “She’ll contact us because she thinks if she takes out Kare, the figurehead, we’ll fall,” said new voice behind them. Kare turned to see Sonly, the baby in her arms, and he wasn’t surprised she’d worked it out. “She’ll come,” she said, her eyes meeting his, “and she’ll finish you if she can.”

  Kare walked to her, still stiff, and held out his arms, his eyebrow raised. She handed him the baby and he held Kerra close, as astonished now as he had been on the day of her birth. She was sitting up in his arms, not lying down, looking around. She was heavier than he remembered, her skin softer than any he’d felt, and he tightened his hold on her, not believing she was here, real and alive. She appeared well cared for, but they’d lost so much time with her– all her babyhood. He glanced at Sonly and saw a wistful look on her face.

  “You said, if she can,” he said. “I’ll stop her if I can. At some point, it’ll come down to who’s stronger. I always knew it would. Why do you think I worked so hard to get my psyche as honed, as varied, as I can? She didn’t want to face me with it. Now she has to.”

  “Can you face her?” said Sonly.

  “I’ll have to, and the longer we leave it, the better for us.”

  “Why?” asked Lichio.

  “Psyching,” explained Kare, “is partly about confidence, and how much you believe you can do it.” The baby reached for a button on his jacket, attracted by its shininess. He put his hand on hers, holding it between his thumb and forefinger, and she tightened her grip on his thumb. This was who he was fighting for, a child as easy to hurt– to kill– as those on Corun, another pawn in his mother’s war. He smiled down at her and she seemed to smile back. She could sense him. He dropped her hand. He needed to be strong enough to finish this job– then he’d get to know her, when it was safe. “Anyone else, yes, my skills are enough to get me through. But, both of you know how I’ve been. How I still am. Do you want to bet on me at the moment?” He saw their faces, and nodded. “Me, neither. Which is why I think you’re right, Lichio– she’ll contact us, and she’ll do it soon.”

  He stroked the baby’s soft hair, blonde, not dark. “First Varnon blonde. I like blondes.”

  “I’m glad we dealt,” Sonly said as he gave the baby back to her.

  “So am I. I wouldn’t have risked her, you know. It might have looked like it, but I was careful.”

  “I know you wouldn’t, Kare; that’s why I let you go as far as you did.” She looked different, holding Kerra. Softer, somehow.

  “We’ve done well, so far.”

  He left Sonly and Lichio and walked up the great staircase and along to the office he’d taken. The palace was obscenely opulent on a planet full of beggars and desert tribes, little more than nomads. His feet sank into the thick carpet and, when he touched the wall, the wallpaper, a rich gold and red brocade, was thick enough to trace its design. He pushed through the gilded doors at the end of the corridor and found himself in an anteroom with three rooms off. His mother’s private chambers.

  The sense of her remained in them, the touch of her mind, the lack of warmth, and he focused on her. He’d never understand her: how she could do what she’d done; how this palace, with all its riches, couldn’t be enough. He thought back to holding Kerra. He’d do anything to keep her safe. Yet his mother had destroyed him, despite being inside his head and touching him as he’d touched Kerra. Despite having carried him and Karia. He could never understand her. All he could do was rid himself of her.

  He went into her office and sat at the desk, reading through the reports of the attack on the palace. It was at least an hour later when there was a quiet knock on the door, and Sonly came in.

  “Could you have advertised your intentions a little clearer?” she asked him, her eyes wide. “I presume these are your mother’s chambers.”

  He looked around the opulent room, with its huge desk and comfortable seats. “I suppose it is a little obvious.”

  She pointed to his comms unit. “In about half a minute, you’ll be getting a call.”

  “The Empress?”
>
  “The Empress.” Sonly closed the door and came over to the desk. “Remember, you’re her equal.” She gave a soft smile. “More than her equal. She’ll never come close to you.”

  And yet he could feel the steel will in this room, the cold determination that ran through everything his mother did. He pushed the doubts away and lifted the comms unit, his hands shaking. He perched at the end of the desk, swinging his leg. Sonly looked at him and gave a small, tight smile, and he knew he wasn’t fooling her. The unit flashed and he took a deep breath before he flicked it so Sonly could hear it too. He put a finger to his lips and she nodded.

  “Kare,” his mother said, her voice grating through the room. He should have put a visual unit in, let her see where he was; it would do no harm for her to be shaken a little, too.

  “This is Colonel Varnon.”

  Sonly gave him the thumbs-up and he turned away with a smile so she couldn’t distract him.

  “You’ll be a general next, no doubt,” she replied. “Or perhaps you wish to be Emperor.”

  “You contacted me; I assume it wasn’t to discuss my rank. Not again.”

  “I recognise your authority in the city, Colonel,” she told him. “But I hold the rest of the empire. I’d like to meet with you.”

  His heart thumped at her words. “How many men are on your ship?”

  “A platoon.”

  “I’ll let you land,” he said. He reached for the glass on his desk– her glass– and took a sip of water. “But your troops remain on your ship.”

  “And your assurance?”

  He glanced at Sonly, who nodded, firmly. “You have my assurance; if you show no hostility, nor will we.” He switched the comms unit off. “Well, that’s it. Are you sure?”

  “I’m sure. We have nothing to lose.”

  “We might have to let her go.”

  “We might,” she said, “but if she leaves you in Abendau she’s ceded, and we’ll announce it as such.”

  “You’re putting a lot of faith in me, Sonly.” Too much.

  “That’s because I think you can do it.” She put her arms around him, pulling him close, and he hoped she didn’t feel how much he tensed, how being touched made him want to run. She smiled up at him, and it was sad enough to know that she had. “In fact, I know you can. You can do anything.”