Barron's Last Stand (The Black Wing Chronicles Book 3)

by JC Cassels

  Seven years. It had been seven long years since she’d last set foot on her home soil. Seven long years since she’d last breathed its sweet air.

  She swallowed.

  Maker, it was beautiful!

  Her eyes greedily devoured the familiar coastlines and land masses as they settled into a high orbit. Wispy clouds swirled around the atmosphere in predictable, early season weather patterns.

  “It’s a beautiful day in New Gallis,” Royce said.

  Bo nodded. “And a stormy night in Narvon,” she observed as lightning flashed in the clouds covering the dark side of the planet over the island continent.

  “Where did you grow up?” Chase asked.

  “The Gallis Highlands,” Bo said.

  She pointed to the wide plateau flanked by rugged mountains to the east. “That city there on the plateau is New Gallis.”

  “Big.”

  “It’s the capital,” Royce said.

  “Ah.”

  Bo craned her neck. “See that river there? Where the valley bends and heads west for a bit? Caer Daecus sits on top of the promontory there, overlooking the forest and the valley.”

  “That’s home,” Royce said, resting a hand on her shoulder. “I never thought I’d set eyes on her again.”

  “Neither did I,” she whispered.

  “Yet here we are.”

  “Yes.”

  “Are you ready for this, Barron?”

  This. Such a tiny word to encompass so much meaning. It was a lovely little euphemism for war and death, and confrontation. Was she leading a coup or quelling one? She didn’t know.

  Royce sighed. “You’re thinking again. You’re going to talk yourself out of doing what you know needs doing.”

  Bo shook her head. “I may dread it, but I will do what’s best for Mondhuoun, no matter how it affects me.”

  “I know, Princess,” he said. “I’m with you to the end.”

  “Me too,” Chase said.

  True to their word, Royce and Chase stayed by her side as they boarded the shuttle to New Gallis.

  They walked with her as she followed the same route her father had taken five years earlier upon his own triumphant return.

  The deafening roar of the crowd drowned out the sound of the blood pounding in her ears. Ostra flowers and gifts tossed by the cheering throng blanketed the boulevard from the spaceport to the Mondhuic General Assembly steps. Flower petals and confetti showered down upon them.

  Bo lifted her hand to wave to her people who crowded the barricades, eager for their first look at the young Barron.

  Mondhuic flags waved over the heads of the crowd. Hands reached out to her. Those who surged too close were ushered back by the Black Wing honor guard escorting her. Bo focused on putting one foot in front of the other, pushing herself to keep going forward. The overwhelming sensory input threatened to overload her. After so many years of keeping to the shadows, finding herself in the spotlight was nearly too much to bear.

  They finally mounted the steps to the General Assembly, rising above the noise and the steaming crowd. At the top, Bo turned to wave one last time.

  “Galen isn’t here,” Royce said, leaning close to her ear. “He stayed at Caer Daecus.”

  Bo didn’t reply. She couldn’t. She simply nodded and waved to the crowd before turning and heading into the building to address her government. She only hoped Blade would have a good report for her at the end of the day.

  ***

  Bo strode into The Barron’s office to find Galen seated behind the desk. He looked up as she entered.

  “Barron. This is an unexpected surprise.”

  Bo stopped beside the display of ceremonial blades on the wall. She searched for the black handled dagger bearing the Barron crest, the weapon he’d used to kill her father.

  “But not a pleasant one,” she said, plucking the dagger from the group. She weighed the weapon in her hand, testing its heft. “You weren’t at the Assembly.”

  “No, I…” The social smile he’d plastered on his face wavered as Royce stepped through the door.

  The color drained from Galen’s face. “Royce.”

  “Hello, Galen,” Royce said. “Miss me?”

  Fear froze him in place for a brief moment. Recovering quickly, he reached for the panic button that would summon security.

  With lightning reflexes, Bo threw the dagger.

  With a loud thunk, the dagger impaled his hand, pinning it to the desk centimeters from the emergency call button. The hilt shuddered with the force of impact.

  Galen cried out.

  Bo stripped off the black leather gloves of her uniform and tucked them into her gunbelt. “If it’s all the same to you,” she said, “I’d prefer we not be disturbed.”

  He swore at her.

  With slow, measured strides, she made her way over to him. She rounded the desk and leaned her hip against it.

  “I know you had my father murdered,” she said. Bo ran her fingertips along the dagger’s black handle. “I know you collaborated with Gad Rameus to bring down the House of Marin. I know you desired to take Barron Clan for yourself.”

  Galen shook his head. “Royce has always been able to manipulate you. He’s Inner Circle…”

  She thumped the hilt, cutting him off.

  His face contorted with pain as a fresh wave of agony speared through his hand. His eyes filled with tears.

  “No.” She leaned down, bracing her hands on the arms of Galen’s chair. “You’ve been the one manipulating me.” She searched his face. “You tried to pressure me into accepting Jaden as my husband. When you realized I would never do that, you set me up for Frostfire.”

  “No…”

  “But then she named me her successor instead of Jaden,” Royce said. “That’s when you started making plans to get rid of all three of us. You knew she’d be convicted of Frostfire, that’s why pushed for that dramatic escape, knowing it would make a fugitive out of me, too. Then you sold out Bhruic. But they didn’t kill him like they’d said they would. They sold him in the Sub-socia. When you realized she was getting serious about Blade, you knew you couldn’t afford to have one of Marin’s IC agents getting too close. So Rameus sent Varo after him, and you started sending poison-laced treats to Bo in the diplomatic pouches you called on me to deliver.”

  “Implicating Royce made him ineligible to succeed me.” Bo backed off and braced her hip against the edge of the desk again. “Then Papa came home and ruined everything, so you had to start all over.” Her lips twitched. “I would have loved to have seen the look on your face when I named Blade as my successor.”

  “Please…”

  “Papa spiked your guns, you know,” she went on. “Naming Blade was his idea.” She canted her head. “Funny how all the attempts on my life suddenly stopped after that. You’d have to take Blade out before you finished with me, and he is simply too hard to kill, isn’t he?”

  Tears streamed down Galen’s face. “Bo…these men are evil,” he said. “They are trying to turn you against me…”

  She waved Royce forward. “No, Galen. You did that yourself. Rameus ordered Varo to keep the recording of my father’s murder in the event he needed to use it for extortion.” She leaned closer and whispered in his ear. “I’ve seen the holo.”

  Fear flashed in Galen’s dark eyes.

  Bo pulled back and met his hunted stare.

  “Jaden has seen it, too,” she said. “He’s been remanded into custody until we get this sorted.”

  Royce pulled a small black bag from his pocket and placed it on the desk in front of Galen.

  “What’s this?”

  “You know what it is,” Royce said.

  Galen shook his head.

  “You’ve put me in an untenable position, Galen.” Bo sighed. “My regent has committed treason, not just against Mondhuoun, but against the Commonwealth itself. I can’t allow that to go unanswered.”

  “No, I never…”

  Bo roughly pulled the dagg
er free.

  Galen’s agonized shout rattled the mullioned windows. He cradled his mangled hand in his lap.

  “Now, I could hand you over to the First Sector and let them deal with you, but I’d prefer to keep this within the family, given the stakes.”

  Bo wiped the blade on his sleeve, cleaning the blood from the weapon and leaving a dark red smear on the expensive blue cloth. She stepped around the desk, waiting for him to look up at her. “Did I tell you that Jaden offered his life as forfeit for your crimes.” Bracing her hands on the desk, she leaned over. “You know the law as well as I do, Galen, and so does he. It doesn’t matter whether I charge you or him for this, I have to charge your entire line. Jaden, Kari, their children…”

  “He named you his children’s guardian,” he cried. “Surely you wouldn’t…”

  “‘Sometimes being The Barron will mean making the difficult decisions. One must separate one’s personal feelings from one’s sense of duty and do what the law demands, however distasteful one may find it.’”

  “You use my own words against me?” Galen shook his head. “Against Jaden?”

  “I may not like the idea of putting your entire line to death, but I understand the reasoning behind it – especially in a ruling family. I can’t have any threat fomenting in my household.” She smiled. “There is too much at stake for me to take any chances. If formal charges are brought, they will be brought against your entire line. That’s the law.”

  “I’m sure we can negotiate a reasonable settlement…”

  She straightened. “You really have no way to win.”

  “I refuse to accept that!”

  “There is one alternative.” Bo nodded toward the parcel on the desk. “I don’t want to bring formal charges, Galen. Putting an entire family to death seems a bit extreme, even if it is the law. I’m willing to make a compromise and offer you the honorable solution.”

  “Suicide?”

  “Jaden will be investigated, of course, but if there is no evidence that he had any knowledge of your actions, he and his family will be spared. He loses nothing. Hell, in the event he’s cleared, I’ll even have your death declared natural causes and allow your family to retain their honor, but they will never set foot on Mondhuic soil again.”

  “And if I decline?”

  “You won’t. You know you don’t have any moves left on the board. Either you die a traitor, taking your son and his family with you, or you die a beloved family member, allowing Jaden to keep his good name and raise his family offworld, and in peace. I’m afraid he’ll have to renounce all claim to the title, though.” She shrugged. “The choice is yours, and I’m afraid you don’t have long to make it. I am truly sorry, Galen, but I cannot allow you to leave this room alive.”

  Galen looked from her to Royce, his emotions playing across his face until finally giving way to resignation. “How much time do I have?”

  “Not very long,” she said. “Just to the limits of Royce’s patience.”

  His lips twitched. “That’s not long at all.”

  Bo forced a cold smile. “Longer than mine.”

  “I see.” He studied the parcel a long moment before taking Royce’s measure. “I am safe to assume that any death you offer me would be disagreeable to the extreme?”

  Royce folded his arms across his chest. “I would enjoy making you suffer,” he said.

  Galen rose to his feet. “Then I suppose the choice is made,” Galen said. “You’ve bested me. My congratulations. I take some measure of pride in that.” He sketched a shallow bow.

  Bo returned the gesture. “Good-bye, Galen,” she said. “For what it’s worth, I did love you.”

  Her lips tightened as she studied his face one last time. Turning, she met Royce’s stony regard. He gave her one quick, reassuring wink, so fast she wondered if she imagined it.

  Tears stung her eyes.

  Behind her the parcel wrapper rustled.

  Royce would see the deed done. Even now, her security teams were sweeping the caer, identifying and removing any agents loyal to Galen. By the time Blade arrived, Mondhuoun would be securely in her hands.

  Without a backward look, Bo left her father’s study – hers now – and crossed the wide gathering hall to the carved bluestone staircase.

  Without comment, Chase fell into step at her side, taking her hand and offering the silent comfort of his presence.

  As badly as she wanted Galen to pay for his crimes, now that the time had come, she took no pleasure in it.

  Leaning heavily on her brother-in-law, Bo mounted the stairs to her suite. Her hand lightly rode the polished stone balustrade as they trudged up the steps. She’d barely made it halfway to the first landing when the dull thud of a heavy object hitting the floor came from her office.

  Tears stung her eyes.

  Chase’s hand tightened on hers.

  She lifted her gaze, afraid to find condemnation and judgment in his eyes. Instead, he offered her a sad smile filled with compassion. He pressed a tender kiss to her forehead.

  She offered him a tremulous smile and hugged his arm tightly. Burying her face in his sleeve, her tears flowed freely.

  Footsteps clicked against the stone floor. She turned and met Royce’s somber stare. He nodded curtly, then stepped back into the study.

  Bo drew a deep breath.

  Mondhuoun, at last, was hers.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  Bo leaned on the parapet outside the Chief’s chamber and breathed deeply of the cool, damp, early-morning air. Looking out over the Bluestone Valley, she took in the lush vegetation, awash in a riot of colors that marked the start of the Gallis Highland growing season. The sky, a brilliant deep blue, bore no hint of clouds. Love for the land and its people swelled in her chest. Her eyes stung with tears, and she swallowed hard to dislodge the lump forming in her throat.

  For good or ill, The Barron was Mondhuoun. Her fate was tied inextricably to that of her people. If she failed, Mondhuoun would fall. If Mondhuoun fell to the enemy, she would pay the ultimate price. Her death would mean the end of Mondhuic autonomy and the dissolution of the clans. Her son would be hunted down and executed. No conqueror would dare leave the Barron line unbroken, nor would they leave current systems of government or culture in place.

  She wouldn’t.

  Rameus’s minions couldn’t afford to.

  Her people would be forced to abandon their ways and assimilate into the culture of the Second Sector once and for all.

  For that reason alone, she would fight to her last breath.

  Something heavy thudded against the stone floor of her chamber. Pushing away from the balustrade, she retreated into the warmth of the caer, pulling the door shut behind her.

  A wood fire burned in the large hearth. Blade sat in front of it, stripped to the waist, his large campaign bag between his knees and he sorted through the contents, taking inventory of his gear.

  “I really wish you wouldn’t insist on being on the front lines.” She frowned at his scarred back. “The Black Wing is more than capable of defending our airspace.”

  “If I’m on the command ship, it frees you to stay groundside in Central Command,” he said, oblivious to her censure.

  So much for subtlety.

  She sighed and tried again.

  “You’re the one who should be groundside, not me.”

  He didn’t look up from his task. He pulled one shiny black item after another from the bag, lining them up on the floor beside his feet.

  “It’s not up for debate, love,” he said. “If you insist on being in the middle of a war zone, you’re going to be in a heavily fortified position, deep inside this mountain – as safe as I can make you.”

  She canted her head to one side, distracted by the way the muscles in his back and shoulders bunched and flexed as he bent and stretched over his gear. Holy Maker, she would never tire of looking at him.

  He paused in his task and looked over his shoulder. His lips quirked in a lopside
d smile. “Are you ogling me?”

  Caught, her cheeks warmed as a guilty flush crept up from her collar. “Well if you didn’t want me to ogle, you’d have worn a shirt.”

  “True,” he said.

  Bo moved to the hearth and stretched out her icy hands to the fire. She stared unseeing into the crackling flames. A companionable silence fell between them as he returned to his task. Behind her, his bag rustled and his gear clicked and thunked against the stone.

  The firelight glinted off the woven metal of her wedding ring. With one finger, Bo absently traced the intricate knot that circled the band. The Lover’s Knot. Lives separating and coming back together, over and over. A warrior’s promise to return.

  Bo turned, searching Blade’s hand for the mate to her ring. She needed to see it. She needed the reassurance of knowing he still wore it.

  His ring caught the light as his long fingers worked, laying out the interlocking pieces of a giant puzzle. It took on a vaguely humanoid shape.

  “Is that body armor?”

  “Predator Assault Armor.” He didn’t look up. “It’s a combination of EVA suit and body armor. If my ship is boarded or the hull is breached, it’ll keep me alive until a rescue ship can pick me up. I had to agree to it or Ian wouldn’t let me go.”

  “Ian’s going to be with you, right?”

  He nodded. “Every minute. And I need to be up there to coordinate with the First Sector fleet.”

  “If they arrive in time. If they’re not under Rameus’s command. If your father’s message got through in time.” She bit her lip. “I want you to take Sundance.”

  “I’d rather you have him, just in case…”

  Bo shook her head. “If this goes sideways, I’d like to know that you had the best ship possible at your disposal. He’s got seven years’ worth of my flight experience in him. Sundance will take care of you. He’ll get you safely away. Besides,” she smiled and tapped her forehead, “I’m The Barron. My flight experience is here.”

  His hands stilled. This time he did look up. He searched her face, his expression impassive. “While we’re discussing ifs, don’t lie to me, Bo. Not now. I know you too well. You won’t leave your people again. If this turns on us, you’ll make your stand here.”