Martius turned back to Diana. “We are away from the quay. But the baron’s vessels will attempt to prevent our departure.”
He pointed to several ships in the harbor that were responding to the signal flags from Tirut Castle. Two large carracks had already hauled up their anchors and spread some canvas. They were moving slowly to cut off the Darling Thoma from the narrow gap in the seawall that protected the harbor.
“They can spread more canvas than us,” said Nexius, stepping onto the quarterdeck. “We will be hard pressed to make the harbor entrance before them.”
“I am more worried about those men-at-arms,” said Martius, pointing.
A dozen soldiers in the livery of the Tirutan Color Guard were drawing the huge chain across the harbor entrance.
Diana drew her long-barreled laser pistol and jacked the slide.
“This will even the odds a bit,” she said. “But it may not be enough.”
“Look!” said Nexius. “Who are those men?”
Another large troop of men-at-arms was running along the top of the seawall. The Color Guard troopers saw them, but did not seem to consider them a threat. They continued their work securing the harbor chain. But then the newcomers formed a line and raised their crossbows. The attack was clearly unexpected and the Color Guard troopers saw that they had no chance. They put their hands up and were quickly disarmed. Their work on the harbor chain was undone and the harbor entrance was cleared.
“Those men wear the livery of the Baron of Firsk,” said Diana. “They are Horus’s men.” She pointed to the quays by the castle. “Look over there. I think they’re going to give us some more help. Rig a tow rope.”
A large longboat came into view, pulling strongly from the quays. Horus stood on the prow, waving to them. The oarsmen rowed with power and timing, cutting through the water with efficiency and great speed. In short order they came under the bows of the Darling Thoma. Diana had run for’ard with Nexius in anticipation and they were ready with the heavy tow rope.
Two of Nexius’s seamen threw the rope down and Horus’s men secured it to the stern of the longboat. Then, they resumed rowing toward the harbor entrance, increasing the speed of the Darling Thoma significantly. The baron’s carracks had had the advantage of position, but this was negated by the Darling Thoma’s increased speed.
“We’ll get you to the harbor entrance before them!” called Horus, looking up at the Diana, Nexius and the crowd of seamen on the Darling Thoma’s bow. “But they may be able to shoot at you. Deploy some crossbowmen on the tops.”
“We’ve already done that,” said Diana, cupping her hands around her mouth to project her voice. “How did you manage to get your men ready so fast?”
“The Color Guard sounded the general alarm in the castle,” said Horus, cupping his hands in like manner. “I brought my men down to the quays to support them. But then I saw you ride into the esplanade—no one but you could have ridden like that.” Horus paused and glanced at the others on the bow before going on. “I thought you might need a little help getting out of here.”
Their eyes met and Diana saw that he had much more to say to her. It remained unspoken, but she read most of it on his face.
The breeze was changeable and the baron’s carracks lost way. Aided by Horus’s longboat the Darling Thoma maintained steady progress and sailed through the harbor entrance, still out of crossbow range of her pursuers. Once beyond the seawall, Horus’s men cast off the tow rope and it was rapidly pulled in by the seamen on the caravel.
“Thank you, Horus,” Diana called out as their sails filled and they began to tack away. “Take care of yourself.”
Her words were businesslike, but he thought he heard some tenderness in her voice. He stood as tall as he could on the prow of the longboat and gave her a wave that was more like a salute. She put her long fingers on her lips but did not blow him a kiss. He remained standing as the Darling Thoma bore away to sea. He shaded his eyes that remained fixated on Diana. Her flaxen hair marked her out even as the ship grew increasingly distant.
AS GREGHAR AWOKE, the first thing he felt was the throbbing pain in his skull. He ran his fingers over the back of his head tenderly and felt the lump, now grown to the size of a pigeon’s egg. He groaned but swung his legs out of the hammock and onto the deck. He recognized the long swells and realized that they were on the open sea. He rapidly made his way up to the quarterdeck, where he found Martius and Diana standing by the helmsman.
“You had no right to prevent me from going to Princess Caitlin,” he growled at Diana.
“She is not a helpless maiden,” she replied. “Vasitha chose her to be one of the Companions. You must trust her to find a way out of Tirut on her own. You will achieve nothing by throwing your life away. Come, Nitya has much to tell us.”
She led the way from the quarterdeck to the stern rail. Nitya was leaning over it precariously, tossing breadcrumbs in the wake and watching the seagulls diving in after them. She looked up as they approached.
“Vasitha has spoken to me,” she said without preamble.
They waited in silence for her proceed.
“Malitha co-opts more and more temporal powers to his cause, magnifying his strength. The Dark rises and we, the Companions, are all that stand in its way.”
“Invoke Vasitha and open the portal,” said Greghar, nursing the lump on his head. “Surely this is his problem, not ours.”
“Malitha has grown so powerful that he has sundered Vasitha from our world. We have tried, he from his side, I from ours, but we cannot open the portal. He cannot join our battle.”
“Be that as it may, I refuse to continue being Vasitha’s puppet. I have my own objectives and—”
“I know what your heart aches for,” interrupted Nitya. “But believe me when I tell you that the triumph of Malitha will spell doom for both of you.”
“You wish to be with Princess Caitlin,” put in Diana. “So do we.”
“Yes,” agreed Nitya, putting a hand on Greghar’s forearm.
She paused and surveyed the two of them for a moment in silence.
“Your bond with Vasitha is special, Cornelle Diana. Where must we go?”
Diana smiled. “Is there anything you do not know, young Nitya?” She paused and looked toward the shoreline. “We will steer for the port of Battara, then overland to the ruins of Bar-Dari.”
“Even if she escapes from Tirut, how will Princess Caitlin know to come there?” asked Greghar.
“Believe in Vasitha, Greghar,” said Nitya softly. “Princess Caitlin does. He will guide her.”
“I WILL DO anything in my power to help you, Cat,” said Yandharan, sipping his beer. They were seated in the secluded backroom of a tavern not far from his Tirut residence, out of the sight of prying eyes. “I have made discreet inquiries and have tracked Dhanraj to the Bermondy district of the city. Thereafter the trail goes cold, for the Bermondy ghetto is peopled by Yengars and Gandharas and they will not talk to lawmen.”
“Hopefully he is safe there,” she said. “But I must leave Tirut as soon as possible.”
“It will not be easy, but I think I can use my badge to get you out of the city gates.”
“You would sacrifice everything by doing that,” said Caitlin. “I cannot ask that of you.”
The look in his eyes was unmistakable.
“Cat, for you I would risk my life and fortune without a second thought.”
“You forget your responsibilities,” said Caitlin, softly. She put a hand on his arm, paradoxically making him feel worse. “Your wife and family will surely face retribution for your actions.”
“Perhaps I can conceal my identity—”
“Perhaps,” said Caitlin. “But I have a better idea.”
An hour later they were at the gatehouse of the Daksin Gate, on their horses. Yandharan was resplendent in his Collector’s uniform, prodding Caitlin who was astride Rufus and had her wrists in manacles. Her sword, Nasht, was in its scabbard on his lap.
One of the guards in the gatehouse came out and inspected the two of them carefully.
“I recognize you, Collector Yandharan,” he said. “And your prisoner fits the description of one of those we were asked to look out for.”
He went back into the gatehouse and reemerged with his captain.
“Why are you here?” asked the captain suspiciously. “Take her to the castle. She should be placed in the dungeons to await the chevalina’s pleasure.”
“I captured her just a few streets from here,” lied Yandharan smoothly. “I require some of your men to come with me to make sure she does not escape again.”
The captain digested this thoughtfully. As he did so, Caitlin suddenly reached over and grabbed Nasht. Yandharan pulled on his reins to turn his mount around, as if to snatch the sword back. However in the process, he interposed his horse between Caitlin and the gatehouse guards. She touched her spurs to Rufus’s sides and galloped through the open gate. Travelers and tradespeople scuttled to get out of the way of the big red horse.
“Stop!” cried Yandharan, galloping after her.
As soon as she was clear of the gate, she gave Rufus his head. Yandharan spurred his horse as though he was in pursuit. The collector rode a fine horse but it was no match for Rufus; even if he had been in earnest, he could not have caught Caitlin. By the time the guards got their horses and thundered through the gate, she was out of sight. She was sure she could get to the Shard Pass long before her pursuers and Yandharan had assured her that it was still unguarded. They will not pursue me into the arid Borderlands of Daksin, she thought.
KITARA KEPT TO her bed for days, allowing only her personal maid, Rubya, into her bedchamber to see her. Nehemus came by her suite many times a day, usually with an herbalist. But each time she sent Rubya out to say that she was not ill, that she only needed privacy to recover from the shock of her assault. Jagus came by once, but when he was refused admittance, he did not return. On the fourth day, Nehemus came by once in the morning and once in the afternoon, each time looking more worried. He came by a third time that day, just after dinner, and stood in the suite’s luxurious lounge. After taking a few nervous circuits, he knocked on the door of her bedchamber.
There was no response for several minutes, and he was about to turn and leave when the door opened. Rubya came out and bowed low.
“My mistress, the chevalina, begs you to enter, my lord,” she said and stood aside.
Nehemus entered eagerly, but with a concerned expression, not knowing what he would find. He found Kitara in her wide, canopied bed. There was a silver bucket with a bottle of chilled Mussadec wine on a bedside table along with two goblets. She sat up in the bed when he entered, pulling the bed sheets up to her chin as she did so. She smiled at him nervously.
“How are you, my dear?” he asked, managing to keep the eagerness out of his voice, but unable to take his eyes off her.
She looked abashed and dropped her eyes.
“I am a simpleton and dupe, my lord. I fear I have brought shame on our house. I am embarrassed to face you.”
He advanced rapidly and sat on a bedside chair.
“No, no,” he remonstrated. “You are a dear, trusting thing—that is not a fault; it is something to treasure.” He clenched his fists. “That filthy dog, Greghar, dared to assault your modesty! You, who are such a paragon of virtue! It is he who has brought shame on his house, not you on yours. I would love to squeeze the life out of him, slowly and with great pain.”
“My lord, I am a weak woman,” she said, with a tremor in her voice. “This assault has left me a mental wreck. Every sudden sound now makes me tremble like a leaf, and I even fear sleep for the nightmares that it brings. I long to be held by someone I trust. I have sent messages to Jagus, but he does not come.”
Nehemus took her hands in his and held them gently. She lay back down on her pillows with a contented sigh.
“I have said it before, and I will say it again,” he said with a trace of testiness. “That boy is a fool who does not recognize what a wonderful wife he has in you. Why, there cannot be another like you in all of the One Land!”
She gave him a nervous smile, looking up to him with big, innocent eyes.
“My lord, my husband is always good to me. He denies me nothing. I am a lucky woman to have one such as him as my husband and master. But he is a busy man and does not always have time for me. I confess to feeling the deep ache that comes from missing his touch.”
“Surely he cannot stay away from one as beautiful as you?” Nehemus looked incredulous.
“He has much on his mind, my lord.”
“Cards and dice,” muttered Nehemus under his breath. “If he has been in the brothels, I’ll have his hide!” He held her hands tighter.
She sat up immediately saying, “No, no, my lord, you must not fault him—” and as she did so, the bed sheets slid down to her waist. She wore a red, sheer negligee that left just enough to the imagination. She saw his eyes light up with a burning desire and in response she looked confused and mortified. She crossed her arms over her bosom and dropped her eyes.
“My lord,” she faltered. “I long to nestle in your strong arms, for I would feel safe there. But my feelings for you are too strong. I fear I would not be able to control myself if I did.”
One of her negligee straps fell off her shoulder, revealing more of her cleavage through her crossed arms. He hesitated no longer but rose from the bedside seat and sat on her bed. He put his arms around her and held her tight. After a brief interval, she took her arms out from between them and put them around his neck, rubbing her breasts against him. He kissed her tentatively, and she kissed him back with an ardor that stoked his arousal. Her mixture of innocent waif and wanton vamp was incredibly seductive. He could not have resisted her animal magnetism even if he had wanted to do so.
He paused to unbuckle his sword belt and draw his tunic over his head. When he took her in his arms again, she said in a timid voice, “Be gentle with me, my lord.”
But once they were under the sheets, her expertise far exceeded his, and she got what she wanted very quickly.
Later as they cuddled, she whispered, “Pour us some wine, darling.”
They sipped their wine and she fussed over him, marveling at his manliness. As he sought to reassure her of his protection she continued, her voice growing throaty. “Secure in your love, I can please you in more ways than you can imagine.”
After they finished their wine, her hands and mouth caressed his body. As she dexterously aroused him again, he briefly wondered where she had learned these skills. But her adept ministrations soon drove these thoughts from his head.
The next morning, she rose early and stretched languorously. Nehemus was still stretched out on his back, deep in an exhausted slumber. He snored gently. She had been as good as her word, and Nehemus had had an active night. She looked at his peaceful features and sighed. She would have to stoke his passions and his ego regularly, but she was confident that she could convince him that this baby was his.
TWELVE
THE MISSION HOUSE OF ABAID
“WE ARE BEGINNING our descent to Bar-Dari, Lady Vivia,” said the pilot over the airboat comm. “If you go to the obvservation deck, you will get a superb view of the old Dari river valley and the ruins.”
“Thank you,” said Vivia. She was with Darbeni in the dining parlor of her large personal airboat. She sipped her vintage fitza and nodded to her daughter. “Let us go and take in the view, darling. I haven’t been to Bar-Dari in years.”
“I haven’t been here since I was brought on a school trip,” replied Darbeni.
The two of them walked up to the observation deck, clutching their stems of fitza against the slight turbulence.
“Just descending through five thousand meters, your ladyship,” said the pilot. “You can se
e the dry bed of the old course of the Dari River quite clearly over to port.”
“Mother Ma!” said Darbeni. “That must have been a big river!”
“Yes, indeed,” said Vivia, pointing. “You can see the old river bluffs—they are over a kilometer apart. But I have been told that in spate the river could cover all the land between them.”
Darbeni glanced at her mother sharply, but Vivia did not elaborate.
As they proceeded lower, their view of the city resolved from a rough outline into distinct streets and buildings. It was an impressive city, with grand boulevards, huge public squares and concourses. Massive buildings dominated the city center and as the airboat glided lower, they saw the details of a uniformly grandiose architectural style. The hot, dry climate ensured that the city’s buildings and infrastructure were preserved in good condition.
“I had forgotten how grand it is,” said Darbeni. “It is almost as impressive as Atlantic City.”
“Yes, it makes Dreslin Center look like a village, doesn’t it? It is hard to imagine that they built all this without construct-bots. Just levers, inclined planes, pulleys, and human muscle.”
“Don’t forget slavery,” said Darbeni.
“Where would you like to land, your ladyship?” came the pilot’s voice over the airboat comm.
“In Dhalian Square,” responded Vivia. “Just in front of the Abaidan Mission House.”
The landing went off without incident and the egress ramp was extended. Vivia’s personal maid, Naorina, stood by the ramp with two other junior maids.
“Would you like us to escort you, your ladyship?” asked Naorina as Vivia and Darbeni approached.
“No, no,” said Vivia. “My daughter and I will be fine.”
As they walked down the airboat ramp, Vivia’s fine kanjiam scarf fluttered in the breeze. Darbeni gathered the pleats of her gown to prevent it from billowing up. The airboat had landed in the middle of the large square and it was a hundred meters to the massive Mission House. Thorny tumbleweeds skittered about in the wind that also threw up a fine dust, prompting them to shade their eyes.
The Eclipse of the Zon - First Tremors (The New Eartha Chronicles Book 2) Page 31